Ok, maybe it IS the epitome of my kind of movie. I’ve recently realized just how much I like Masterpiece Theatre and Thomas Hardy and such. I mean, I knew I loved them before.. Maybe what I mean to say is that I didn’t realize how much I needed them.
Let me start over.
I really love period pieces. Especially victorian-era stuff, like Jane Austen and Thomas Hardy. And what I really like is how immensely fucked-up their stories can be. Jane Austen always ends her books with weddings and happily-ever-afters, while Thomas Hardy is a little more of a realist (pessimist?
). Their works satisfy that girly need in me to read something trashy and romantic, but then they give it that grit to bring it back to home. Life’s not happiness and sunshine. Life is fucked up. And I love it. I love how raw it is.
This seems to not follow though that I like Jane Austen so much, since she always wrote happy endings. You would be right… I used to actually think less of her novels because I thought it was a cop out that everything went so swimmingly in the end.
That was until I saw Becoming Jane. It gave me this new insight into her life, whether or not it may be true. There is a lot of speculation in the movie and a lot of controversy surrounding her life–most of the information we have is gleaned from letters she wrote to her sister, most of which were destroyed after Jane died.
That being said, here’s the trailer for the movie:
I know, it looks like some dumb romance movie. Sure, it is for the most part. But she doesn’t get him in the end. I won’t give away why not, just suffice it to say, it has to be the most incredibly sad movie I have ever seen. I had to pause the movie so I could get up and blow my nose (more than once).
This movie gets at something that I never connected to Austen’s happy endings: she didn’t have one. She didn’t get married to her true love (she never married at all), and she didn’t live happily ever after. She died young (for our standards), and a spinster. But she wrote about love and happiness being the end result of struggle and sadness. She lived vicariously through her work. And I respect that immensely. And maybe that’s because it makes her otherwise happy endings into something that isn’t happy at all.
That is why I love Jane Austen now. What a woman she was!