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Written by gianni
(8/24/2011 10:29 p.m.)
in consequence of the missive, to us they're precious, penned by Felicity S
...than refiner's gold. Just in this one letter, there's so much that glitters just as do her novels! I suppose the only way to account for her relations' attitudes is their familiarity with Jane herself, and that she spoke the way she wrote? The prose in her novels is absolutely unique in my experience, and her letters shine almost as brightly and consistently.
"We have had a thunder-storm again this morning. Your letter came to comfort me for it."
Not so big a deal, but still...
"I had a great mind to add that, if she persisted in giving it, I would spin nothing with it but a rope to hang myself, but I was afraid of making it appear less serious matter of feeling than it really is."
Is the highlighted text a joke, or is it an attempt to avoid being construed as an instance of habitual wry jokes of this kind? Either way, it's a gem.
"I will not say that your mulberry-trees are dead, but I am afraid they are not alive."
"We shall have pease soon. I mean to have them with a couple of ducks from Wood Barn, and Maria Middleton, towards the end of next week."
"How horrible it is to have so many people killed! And what a blessing that one cares for none of them!"
:-} She was certainly not slave to the trite sentimentality one sees so much of.
"I continue to like our old cook quite as well as ever, and, but that I am afraid to write in her praise, I could say that she seems just the servant for us. Her cookery is at least tolerable; her pastry is the only deficiency."
More wry sincerity, playful teasing, ...?
"I hope you understand that I do not expect you to write on Sunday if you like my plan. I shall consider silence as consent."
So this now trite. I can't imagine her being trite, so maybe it wasn't so commonly spouted then? or maybe wasn't so grotesquely misused then? or maybe she was poking an already trite saw?
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