Death Comes to Pemberley... and I Resurrect Pride and Prejudice

Just five days ago, I gave up on re-reading Pride and Prejudice. And I was totally okay with that. And if this was your project, and you did that, I would not judge you at all.

But I can't quit.

Maybe I just needed an Austen break. Maybe reading Death Comes to Pemberley reignited my drive. Whatever it was, I realized this morning that I just could not compromise on my original plan for this project.

So, I'm back on board with Pride and Prejudice. With a little over a month left, I have quite a bit of reading to do. Luckily, my little introverted heart needs a break from all the socializing and coast-hopping and is screaming for me to just have a couple nights in to relax.

But let's go back and talk about Death Comes to Pemberley. This novel picks up the story of Elizabeth and Darcy, six years later, happily settled at Pemberley with two beautiful children and a happy life punctuated with, of course, family drama here and there. Though she is not particularly welcomed to Pemberley, Lydia shows up in the middle of the night before an annual ball, and plunges our favorite characters into a murder mystery.

I was happily impressed with the continuity of story. It felt seamless, often referencing small plot points from Pride and Prejudice. At times, though, I felt that James challenged how I understood these characters. Elizabeth became less romantic and mused on how financial considerations impacted her past decisions. Charlotte is suddenly less sympathetic and a bit devious. And Darcy is now quite thoughtful and romantic! I don't know that these characterizations are wrong, and I might also be far too influenced by the BBC adaptation, but it just felt "off" at times to me.

I also have very little interest in reading contemporary mystery novels. While this retained the language and writing style of Jane Austen, there were too many features of modern storytelling that frustrated me. For example, the same details, around the events of the murder in question, were repeated numerous times. Occasionally, this was done to illustrate how one person's recollection varies from another, or to introduce a small piece of information not previously known. More often, though, I felt like I was suffering through another three-page retelling of "what happened that night" without any payoff.

Yet, this was a quick read and it was fun. The requisite twists were surprising, though not shocking. I didn't feel any compulsion to keep reading as I do in my best experiences but I did not have to force myself to get through the story. I certainly do not feel any worse off having read it, if that's a recommendation at all.

Verdict: if you love pride and prejudice, it's a cute read; good for beach days or rainy weekends

De-Booted!

Those readers who also have to deal with me in person know that for the last six weeks, I've been awkwardly walking slightly off-balance in an effort to let a stress fracture heal. Actually, if you've been reading the blog, whether you know me or not, you know this - because I've used many opportunities to elicit pity by mentioning this dreaded walking boot ruining all my summer plans.

Summer's best fashion accessory - really.

Well, I paid my dues. I wore the boot. I took my calcium supplements. I stopped working out for six weeks. My left calf muscle has atrophied into just a remnant of its former glory. But my six weeks are finally over and I am de-booted!

I have six more weeks before I can hope to be back to where I was six months ago. This week, I'm only allowed to engage in "normal, everyday" walking activities. And then it's a few weeks of physical therapy and a lot of finger-crossing that my bones are strong. By mid-September, I should be back to my five to ten hours of dance each week.

But first things first - just normal, everyday walking, and I"ll try it out in Boston. Yes, another weekend trip to Boston. This time: walking through the Common, of course, a housewarming party, a kayaking trip, suppertime reunion with my favorite botanist (or are you a phrenologist now?), and much more! What happy and lucky timing that this trip occurs now, the day after the de-booting!

I will miss being able to pre-board my flights, though.

Quitting Pride and Prejudice

I have quit my rereading of Pride and Prejudice.

I just can't do it. I read this book about a year ago. I've seen the BBC and Keira Knightley-led adaptations countless times. I just cannot read this book again, not right now. It's a good book; I love it. But it doesn't feel fresh to me at all right now and I found myself dreading reading in general because of the obligation. And that's not the point of this, at all.

I tackled two Pride and Prejudice-related tasks last night though: reading P.D. James's Death Comes to Pemberley, which has started off wonderfully, and watching The Lizzie Bennet Diaries. This book is really quite delightful. James retains much of Austen's language and cadence, which really makes it seem like a proper sequel. The plot is quick enough (in sometimes stark contrast to Austen's, um, patience with her plot development); I expect to be through it before the end of Friday. It's very obviously something done by someone who loves Jane Austen and Pride and Prejudice, which in itself is rather endearing. The web series next mentioned is a sort of modern twist on Pride and Prejudice. I'm pacing at about two videos a day; they're short and pretty cute. 

I may not reread Emma either.

Disappointments abound, but as long as I get through all the new-to-me Austen works, I'll be satisfied with my endeavor.

Who Has the Better Summer? Round 2: Stuff To Do

Wisconsin is where Chicagoans go to escape the city in the summer but it's also where I spent my first 24 summers. The novelty that city slickers find in small town Wisconsin is just my normal. But after a few summers in Chicago, this feels normal too. So which is better? If you had to spend summer in just one place, which promises a better summer: Chicago or (my) small-town Wisconsin?

Summer Festivals
In my hometown, we have two summer festivals really - Walleye Weekend and the fair. The first is at the large park on Lake Winnebago and has formed around a three-day walleye fishing tournament. I know it better as the weekend we eat all kinds of fried food and watch the younger ones in the family play soccer. Just like any other summer festival - terribly unhealthy but delicious food, beer, bands, and the real purpose is something no one pays attention to. The fair is, of course - the fair. Come on. Carnival rides, animals in a large barn-type thing (um, I've been informed it's just called "a barn"), and more fried food and beer.

In Chicago, summer festivals are much more compact - just a few blocks of space, at most. They're typically not free; they're suggested donation-admittance. Of course, here you'll also find your fair share of fried foods, but many festivals are held in celebration of some heritage and so you'll get a sampling of new foods too. Chicago's festivals are so phenomenal though because there is literally something for everyone all summer. Lincoln Square's Maifest (like Oktoberfest in spring!), Printer's Row Lit Fest (used books for sales, author talks and readings!), and Wicker Park Fest (hipsters and music!) are a few of my favorites. And there are several fests every weekend, so it goes without saying if you have nothing to do - you're wrong, there's something to do.

Point Chicago.

Camping
This one is easy. You can't camp in Chicago. Point Wisconsin.

Lazy Summer Porch Drinking
Yikes, this is harder. There are not many porches in Chicago. We have a back staircase that has a landing which we could theoretically put out one, maybe two, folding chairs and drink some beer. The view is lovely - the roof of the apartment building next door or into my neighbor's kitchen. But Chicago has some pretty amazing local breweries that give perfect summer beer options - nice and light, crisp and a bit fruity.

Eh, you can buy Goose Island anywhere now. Wisconsin has New Glarus, big backyards, decks with grills and plastic kiddie pools. Point Wisconsin.

Outdoor Dining
It feels unfair to even write out a comparison here. There is no comparison. Point Chicago.

The Lake
Contenders: Lake Winnebago and Lake Michigan. I realize much of Wisconsin has access to Lake Michigan but we're talking about my Wisconsin. My small-town Wisconsin has Lake Winnebago. A lake I've never swam in, maybe once canoed in, and often mocked. That said, I've only been to a Chicago beach once and certainly did not go in Lake Michigan. Tied.

Oh no, tied overall. Who guessed that would be the case? Truly, the winner is usually wherever I am not. When Chicago is too hot (and dirty), I crave a Wisconsin summer. And when Wisconsin gets boring, I itch to be back in Chicago. Luckily, it's easy to go between the two.

Watching Sense and Sensibility

Friday night, AVH tolerated my intermittent commentary and watched the Emma Thompson adaptation of Sense and Sensibility with me. Overall, I absolutely enjoyed it. The adaptation of this very long and tedious novel was extraordinarily done, keeping all the major plot points and adding just enough extras to make up for some of the things Austen left out of the novel (ahem, a certain engagement scene).

I have a few thoughts though:

• Hugh Grant as Edward Ferrars did nothing to convince me that he and Elinor were a great match. Maybe I'm too much like Marianne but I wanted to see a certain indescribable spark of chemistry on screen. Just a touch of romance underneath the surface.
• I felt even more, after watching the film, that Marianne wilted at the end of the story. It didn't come across to me as growing up, but resigning herself to a tolerable life. And while this was probably very much the case in many real scenarios, I just felt sad for her at the end.
• The secondary characters (particularly Margaret, Mrs. Jennings, and Mr. Palmer) were delightful!
• Emma Thompson is flawless and was indeed a perfect Elinor, just as I expected.

I know many people love Sense and Sensibility and I don't wish to take that away from anyone. I think I've been spoiled by my immersion in two other Austen novels: Pride and Prejudice and Emma. I intend to write much more about my love of Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse as I launch into those titles. I'll just say that my literary preferences were formed in my youth and that is likely why I did not connect with Sense and Sensibility in the same way.

For most of the summer, I've felt like I have so much time to get through Austen, but it turns out that my three months will expire on September 8th - and that is only 47 days from now! I started Pride and Prejudice again last night and intend to finish that this week and then read Death Comes to Pemberley while traveling this weekend. There is much reading yet to be done and I haven't even started my historical research or touched any criticisms! August will necessarily be an Austen-heavy month (and this means I should probably stop buying other books).

Maine Coast Adventures, Part 3

I cannot think of a better time to publish a blog post than at 5 p.m. on a gorgeous, summer Friday evening. This one will have the most readers of them all! Oh well.

Sunday in Maine started early early early. Like 4 a.m. early. We sleepily headed back up Cadillac Mountain for something that you really just don't get to see every day - the sunrise. From a mountain top. On an island. In the Atlantic. Wingman was chatty, everyone was a bit shivery, but when the sun rose? Wow. I got all weird-historian on Caitlin and wondered aloud how it would have felt to see something like that before, you know, we knew about science and how that all works. No wonder we had a sun god - it was pretty terrifying and impressive. And I spent a good ten minutes writing the scene for being the first person to see a sunrise (what is that blinding ball of fire oh my god why is there now a black spot everywhere I look?!)

After a three hour nap, we indulged in blueberry pancakes (blueberry everything!) and coffee before heading to the Bar Harbor Farmer's Market. See, we needed to stock up on some easily transportable and super delicious local food for later that evening.

We spent the afternoon perusing shops, participating in a free beer tasting at Bar Harbor Brewery (seriously, they have everything on this tiny island), and then taking in the "Indians and Rusticators: Wabanakis & Summer Visitors on Mt. Desert Island 1840s-1920s" exhibit at the Abbe Museum. This was really extraordinarily done. I was quite impressed (and a bit winsome for missed career opportunities - that is right in my preferred academic era). 

But honestly, the highlight of the day, the apex of the trip, was our sunset sea kayaking trip. Walking boot be damned, I was going kayaking! So, sure, I was pretty nervous - the ocean is a bit intimidating. But after about an hour or so, we had this down. We were basically pros, paddling our kayak to the front of the group, CMM steering that thing like she drives a kayak to work everyday, and expertly landing on the beach for our snack break.

Terrible photo - delicious food. You win some, you lose some.

I maintain this is because CMM and I are both oldest children. We take direction well, learn quickly, and excel at pretty much everything. (Also apparently modest about our awesomeness.) I certainly got some real satisfaction from mastering how to paddle without splashing everyone in our group with gallons of water, and feeling the power of pushing that paddle through the water, and propelling our kayak forward. It's no surprise that I'm already set up with some kayak "lessons" here in Chicago, huh? I don't think it will compare to sea kayaking, but at least I can work on my form.

Kayakers! We'll see you next summer when we're leading out twice daily trips of our own.

One evening ice cream trip later and Maine kind of ended there. On a sweet, sweet note. I left around 9 the next morning, made it back to Boston around 3 p.m. and spent the late afternoon, early evening at Marina Bay - dinner and drinks with a new friend, discussing the life woes we Millennials have as we start to become full-fledged grown-ups, and admiring a new skyline. A skyline that impressed, and perhaps inspired, me more than I anticipated.

Disposable cameras are not "cute" and will give you terrible pictures. 

If you ever forget your camera on vacation, buy a new camera.

I may have rushed through this a bit, but frankly - I kept great travel notes and this trip was so important to me, that I'm a bit selfish with those thoughts and feelings. Suffice to say that I fell in love with Mt. Desert Island, and fell harder still for Boston (sure, three trips in two months might have helped with that).

This weekend: look forward to some Jane Austen updates, confirmation that I am practicing the ukulele, and a countdown of getting out of this walking boot and into wearing both shoes of a pair again (7 days!)

Maine Coast Adventures, Part 2

I've neglected you, my robust audience close friends and family, but there is a secret project in the works. If it comes together, it'll make an appearance here soon and become a good project to pick up when Summer of Austen wraps up. If it doesn't result in anything, I'm running through ideas, including: tile mosaics, making my own stationary, and making my own candy (all good options).

Saturday started off the only way a Saturday morning in Maine should start: Lobster Eggs Benedict at 2 Cats, so called because there are cats - real cats and pictures of cats, everywhere. And from there we were off, and my notes from Saturday are brief and disorganized. My notes appear below in italics and any memories they triggered follow.

Early morning - off to Sand Beach... Reading, and chatting on the beach, leaving before too crowded. 
Ah, yes, that was our first destination! In the early, single digit hours of the morning, we arrived at Sand Beach, the one sandy beach on the island, spread out a blanket and pulled out our readings - a book for CMM and the latest issue of The Atlantic for me. I wanted to read Slaughter's "Why Women Still Can't Have it All" piece in print form and this was the perfect time to do it. We took reading breaks to watch young children and teenagers tempt their hardiness in the cold Atlantic water. And as the beach started to fill up, we packed up and headed back to pick up Wingman.

Drove all around Acadia - up Cadillac Mtn, Seal Harbor, Naturalist's Notebook, Caitlin's stomping grounds last summer, Lower ___ Pond, those gardens.
Yes, clearly I was trying to cram a lot of memory triggers into very short notes. I remember writing this out at the very end of the night, after a long day and facing an early-morning wake-up. As a reminder, this trip to Maine was tinged with the frustration of being in a walking boot and that affliction ruling out any chance of real hiking. So CMM drove us to the top of Cadillac Mountain so I could still see the views, and then gave me the best driving tour of the island anyone's ever had. Through the lovely gardens (below), to a wonderful lookout where I marveled at the Rockwellian views. Everything I saw was augmented with interesting anecdotes and history from my dear friend. Oh, and it's Lower Hadlock Pond, too - I looked that up, and the short stroll there counts as my "hiking in Maine."

Pretty gardens... I did not take enough pictures, I know... sigh... 

Rest break w/Julie and Julia. Dinner at _____ - so fresh scallops. That play, Fully Committed - so good!
The driving tour was sucking some energy away and we took an afternoon rest to watch Julie and Julia - which I had not seen (though I read the book a few years ago), but thoroughly enjoyed (due primarily to the genius of Meryl Streep). We prettied up and headed out to dinner - and CMM will have to remind me where, but the scallops were local and the best I've ever had, the wine was crisp, and the blueberry basil sorbet was divine. We then went to see the Acadia Rep's staging of Fully Committed - a play so good that I'll only tell you to see it, if it's ever staged near you. To tell you any more would take out so much of the pure delight we had in experiencing it.

The stars!
My last note for Saturday and, yes, it's been a long time since I've seen stars like that. This is why we go camping, sleep outside, go nature-y on vacation. Those stars...

Part 3 - the last piece - tomorrow, I promise.

Maine Coast Adventures, Part 1

Another of my resolutions this year was to go somewhere in the US that I have not yet been. And pretty quickly, it became apparent that place should be Maine, specifically Mount Desert Island: Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park.

Early on the 4th, I fled the cruel Chicago summer heatwave for the welcoming weather of the East Coast. Sure, I got to Midway three hours early, but it was an air conditioned utopia compared with my breeze-free apartment. With my closest Boston friends out of town, when I arrived, I truly got to pretend as if I lived there (a tourist tip from BKJ). Three trains and 1.5 miles of awkward walking-boot travel later, I was comfortably settled on the Cambridge side of the Charles River, waiting for fireworks and surreptitious champagne toasts.

The fireworks were, of course, amazing. The warm summer rain that started in synchronization with the first fireworks was welcome and just inconvenient enough to create a good story. After all the sparkles and boom!s, we headed back to the Chateau and discussed how chance affects evolution and whether intelligence is a good or bad thing for human survival (...only in Boston) until 2 a.m.

The next morning, with no alarm clock (because who needs one on vacation?), I took my time waking up and readying for the next leg of my trip: a four hour bus ride to Bangor, Maine. And that was much better than expected - the bus more comfortable and the trip more beautiful than I had hoped. I read Christopher Camuto's Time and Tide in Acadia most of the way, which easily increased my anticipation for "nature!"

CMM picked me up in Bangor and we made the hour-drive to Bar Harbor, listening to This American Life at first, and then pointing out landmarks. After a lovely dinner - my first lobster roll of the trip, it was time to call it a night. I was tired from traveling all day and my host had to wake up early for work the next day.

Friday rolled around and I woke early while CMM got ready for work and then alternated between light dozing and finishing Austen's Sense and Sensibility. By 11 a.m. though, I was out the door and started on my first journey, The Shore Path.

This path is a little less than a mile (good for my awkward walking) and provides lovely views of the rocky shore and the unattainable and gorgeous houses on the waterfront.

The end of the path, where I paused to take my one and only work call of the trip, brings you back into town. From there I meandered through the shops of Main Street and Cottage Street before heading back to Friday night's dinner spot for my second lobster roll (what? how often do you get lobster that was caught right there just that morning?!)

Lobster Roll at Side Street Cafe in Bar Harbor, ME.

After a short rest, my favorite canine and I headed out for another walk - to visit the sand bar to a neighboring island. It was high tide, as I suspected, but I thought it worth a view so I could compare on a subsequent visit during low tide. You know, you see a town differently walking a dog. And that was another very perfect part of the trip. (Come on, isn't he just the prettiest dog?)

Hello readers - meet Wingman, the dog who convinced me to get a dog asap.

CMM returned home and we popped out to dinner (no lobster roll this time, ok), drinks at a narrow  bar, and wrapped up the evening with a show at ImprovAcadia. A pretty fantastic day, it was an auspicious start to a vacation where nothing could go wrong. No - that's not foreshadowing, nothing went wrong!

Saturday and Sunday brought all that nature I had been anxiously waiting for, and provided much material for Part 2.

Blog Recommendation: If you like beautiful nature writing, so much so that it warms your cold, city heart to trees and flowers (but not too much to birds), then check out 3rdcoastfieldnotes.tumblr.com.

Sense and Sensibility... and Disappointment

I finished Sense and Sensibility - I fought through to the end while on vacation in Maine late last week. And I was never so glad to finish one book and start another as I was once I moved from this to The Art of Fielding (for another book club meeting I didn't actually make it to - shocker).

If you have not read Sense and Sensibility, and do not desire to read blatant spoilers, please do not read further. I will summarize with this: I do not recommend reading it unless you also have a desire to read all of Austen's novels for yourself. It's slow and you will not be entertained. In fact, you may feel quite dissatisfied at the end. I certainly do.

Okay, it was fine. At this point, I'm comparing my experience to what I know of Jane Austen: a first read of Northanger Abbey, a few reads of Pride and Prejudice and countless journies through Emma. Sense and Sensibility. Going up against these reads I have loved, this just did not capture my attention nearly enough. I felt like I knew exactly what was going to happen - I did not have any moments of surprise, save near the end when Austen demonstrates that indeed Colonel Brandon pines for the obnoxious Marianne. And when Edward finally proposes to Elinor, Jane Austen keeps all the details a secret from us! We read through all these pages of insufferable detail in which I was frankly unconvinced that Edward was worth Elinor's attentions to get to this (emphasis added):

How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told. This only need to be said;- that when they all sat down to the table at four o'clock, about three hours after his arrival, he had secured his lady, engaged her mother's consent, and was not only in the rapturous profession of the lover, but, in the reality of reason and truth, one of the happiest of men.

NEED NOT BE PARTICULARLY TOLD?! Are you kidding me?! Why does Jane Austen hate me? 

I trust that the film adaptation will be much better and that Kate Winslet will inspire me to love Marianne and Emma Thompson will prove to be a perfect Elinor. But if I don't get a proposal scene, I'm done. 

Well, done until I move onto Pride and Prejudice, a title with so much adapted material, I shall be happily inundated with Austen for the rest of July.

Verdict: it wasn't for me, i don't recommend it, but do what you want

Who Has the Better Summer? Round 1: Summer Storms

I'm in the midst of my sixth summer in Chicago and starting to feel the twinges of homesickness that always pop up along with the sudden summer thunderstorms and tornado warnings. Chicago, like the rest of the Midwest, has severe summer weather, but not often enough for my taste.

I lived in Milwaukee briefly last year and was kind of lounging around listening to the news one morning, when I heard something about a "water spout on Lake Michigan." And a moment later, I realized, I live on Lake Michigan! (Literally - my apartment was across the street from the lakeshore.) And sure enough, a glance out my window was enough to see something completely new (to me) and fascinating.

Photo from the National Weather Service and WISN Studio via mlive.com. 

Read about the water spout here.

Severe summer weather captivates us because we're so close to but rarely ever in any real danger. (Please note that I do not live in Tornado Alley and while we have had our share of devastating tornadoes, they are rare.) And we're regularly reminded of the power of nature, of weather, in a Wisconsin summer. We crave and relish the summer thunderstorms while keeping an ear out for the sirens ushering us to the basement.

When severe weather strikes in Chicago, it's just not the same. I've never really lived somewhere with an enclosed porch. I've certainly never lived somewhere with more than a pocket-sized view of the sky. The ramifications of severe weather inconvenience us more in the city than they did in small-town or rural Wisconsin. Chicago thunderstorms inspire annoyance long before any sense of awe.

It's storming. It'll take me 45 minutes to get home by train/bus. Do I wait out the storm at work? Do I want to be on the train during the worst of the storm? Will I have to wait for the bus long? 

It's all much more tiring than fascinating when a thunderstorm strikes Chicagoland. Point Wisconsin.

What do you think, summer storms: yay or nay?