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Quote of the Day: By ‘A Lady’
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
Thus begins the best-known work by one of English literature’s best-known authors who was born 244 years ago, on December 16, 1775. Pride and Prejudice was Jane Austen’s second published novel, one of only three that were published during her short life, which ended prematurely at the age of 41 from what was probably Hodgkin’s lymphoma combined with long-term Addison’s disease.
As with Sense and Sensibility, and Emma, the novels were published only with the byline “By A Lady,” and Jane’s identity was not known until her brother published Persuasion and Northanger Abbey after her death. A sixth novel, Sanditon, was unfinished at the time of her death in 1817. It was published in its fragmentary form in 1925 and has been the basis of numerous continuations, completions, and adaptations, perhaps most interestingly in The Price of Butcher’s Meat, a detective novel in the ‘Dalziel and Pascoe’ series by Reginald Hill.
The opening lines of Pride and Prejudice are, without a doubt some of the most famous in the entire literary canon. But there are others just as famous, or just as beloved, even if only to ourselves.
Do you have a favorite opening line or paragraph from a work of fiction? What, and (if you care to share), why?
Published in Literature
The O. Henry story I was thinking of did remind me of the Christmas Gift story that you refer to…quite similar…but I was thinking of a different O. Henry story. Probably one not one of those written by O. Henry, which may have thrown an English Lit expert like you off. (I’m a Big Picture guy. Details–for example, “facts”–aren’t my strong suit).
Hoo boy.
I’ll never really leave this place, no matter how mad it makes me sometimes.
“riverrun . . . ” blabla etc. Can’t remember the rest of it; not a Joyce fan.
But I do love the opening of Dylan Thomas’s “A Child’s Christmas in Wales,” and am going to indulge myself as the post author (RHIP) by quoting the first two sentences here. Because, in addition to everything else, seasonal:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of reason, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
“I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.”
From I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith, another novel of a madcap and eccentric British family, of which I seem to be dredging up an inexhaustible supply today. Sensing a theme. (Dodie Smith is better known for having written 101 Dalmations.)
And then there’s this:
And this:
A wonderful book. Cassandra Mortmain is one of the most charming and engaging characters I’ve ever encountered in fiction. You make me want to go read it again, just by quoting that one sentence.
“In 1937, I began, like Lazarus, the impossible return.
Whittaker Chambers’ first sentence in Witness comes as close to perfection as does the opening of any non-fiction that I’ve read. By perfection, I mean a sentence that captures the essence of the 808 pages that follow.
The Audible version of “Necromancer” includes a preface by Gibson describing the problems of writing sci-fi where the true future totally changes the fictional one and, in some cases, the thrust of the story told in the book at hand.
Would that be true today? Prince Andrew probably wasn’t in want of a wife. But those are cads. I would hope decent men still do. Now if anyone wants to write a modern day version, they could have Elizabeth Bennett meet up with Prince Andrew…lol. Luckily Darcy was a bit more of a gentleman. Now what would a modern day Elizabeth Bennett be like?
I love Jane Austen. I’ve read four of her seven novels. Emma is my favorite. It’s probably time I went for the fifth.
I’ve always thought that clever “Aunt Jane” was describing what’s come to be called (in a somewhat different context) “the female gaze” here. That it is the women who think that the man with the fortune must want a wife. And that, perhaps, they’d like to volunteer. Not so much the man, who depending on his interests and character, might want a wife; but then again, a wife might be the last thing he wants.
Glory be.
I think my stepdaughter has a lot of her qualities, in a more modern incarnation. Sticking with the Royal Family as an example, I should think Kate Middleton might be the best bet. Confident, pleasant, sociable, even-tempered, hard-working and forthright. I’ll have to think about whether there are any such in media or entertainment, bit thin on the floor in those venues, I think.
Go for it!
I am curious. Why do you say that? (I don’t follow the royals–I have people for these details–so I don’t know anything about his needs one way or the other.)
* * * * * * * *
Notes
“I have people for these details”
(Inaudble)
Say again? You’re breaking up.
(Inaudible)
Ok, I am saying that I have “people”, or perhaps, “a person.”
(Inaudible)
Ok, yes, you are right. I just have one person.
(…)
Ok, Kate.
(…)
What?
Fine, then! It is under dispute just who has whom. Are you satisfied, now?
Because it would not be terribly difficult for him to find a second wife if he wanted one. Instead, he prefers to cavort with younger women in questionable company. There might have been a reason he had the nickname of “Randy Andy” in his youth.
Not to be a stickler, but it’s “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.”
I love that line and I was second-guessing myself that I recalled the word “dreamt” in it. I just had to look it up!
@she, I love this post idea and had thought of doing something similar. In the spirit of the season, and since we’re re-reading “A Christmas Carol,” I’ll add:
“Marley was dead: to begin with.”
She,
It occurs to me that you may be substituting the modern meaning of “want” with Jane Austen’s.
Are you? Today, “want” means “desire”. Jane Austen meant “need” or “lack”.
Well, possibly. Although I don’t know that it makes much difference. Change my first sentence to read, “that it is the women who think the man with the fortune must be in want of a wife,” with “want” in the sense of lacking or need. I am still inclined to think that Jane was being ironic.
Then again, the Oxford English Dictionary does show that “want” in the sense of “desire” or “wish for,” was used as early as 1706, and throughout the Eighteenth Century.
So perhaps Jane was messing with us.
Well, there is no doubt about that! Please don’t hear what I’m not saying.
I disagree. I think that it would have been a very different thought. If “desire” is read, the whole sentence is nonsense. As it was in fact meant, it is brilliant irony, brilliant insight into the war between the sexes.
Oh good point. I never thought of that. It is written in an objective voice, but I think that’s what Austen intended.
Interesting. I’ve often wondered what the history of the two meanings was. And I’ve often wondered what it reveals, if anything, about the change in values and beliefs between then and now.
I guess you haven’t been catching the news around him. Google “Prince Andrew and Jeffery Epstein.”
Ah yes, I remember now. I am so out of it.
But back to it: any man who turned to Jeffrey Epstein’s services was more emphatically in want of a wife than Darcy. Unless you are making the same semantic assumption (incorrect, I’m pretty sure) as She.
I didn’t think I was. I thought I was merely restating what I’d said in response to Manny’s comment, that I thought the “irony” or what you’re calling “insight into the war between the sexes” was the controlling interest here, not so much the definition of “want,” which I’m not all that fussed about. I’m happy to agree that your definition of “want” must be correct if that helps, but I don’t think it alters the point I made in #42. I could easily rewrite it to factor in “lack” rather than “desire,” and it would still be essentially the same. I think.
Well, we’ll have to agree to differ there then, in that I think it’s possible to read it both ways.
He was in want of…umm…a play thing.
He desired a plaything, and was in need of a wife. I think you’ve been confused by the changing meaning of English words.
Yes, that is true. He was just too stupid to realize.
Along with the telephone booth in Istanbul.