Jane Austen, who died 200 years ago on July 18, 1817, is more than just the author of six beloved novels; she is an industry.
Mid-century Broadway was a wacky place. The musical “First Impressions,” an adaptation of “Pride and Prejudice,” was no exception.
Forward Editor in Chief Jane Eisner discusses Gaza, Ivanka Trump’s business practices and more in this week’s Jane Looking Forward.
Austen’s priorities were clear: Marriage should be about love, compatibility, integrity, and mutual respect.
The white nationalists of the “alt-right” see Jane Austen as an icon of a lost white world.
Nora Ephron may no longer be with us (sob!) but her work lives on. ‘Portlandia”s Carrie Brownstein is set to complete an unfinished script by Ephron for adapated U.K. mini-series, ‘Lost in Austen.’
Not this again. After the success of “Bridesmaids” seemed to finally sound the death knell for the whole “women can’t be as funny as men” canard, we’re right back to hearing “women can’t write like men.” The culprit this time? Acclaimed novelist V.S. Naipaul, who dissed all women writers, and said none were his match. He even declared that his own editor churned out, in his words, “feminine tosh.”
As I prepared for the beginning of the perennial Purim question of “Esther vs. Vashti” at the same time as I delved into Jane Eyre-mania, I began to think about how women are always pushed into dichotomies. I wondered cynically how soon someone would write about the new Brontë films by declaring Jane Austen passé. I didn’t have to wait long. This article about the “Battle of the Bonnets” in the Washington Post is a witty and sharp look at women’s cultural obsessions and it contains some great literary observations. But the headline, and the “battle” premise, rankles.
In Cathleen Schine’s “The Three Weissmanns of Westport” — currently on The New York Times’ extended bestseller list — Jane Austen’s tale of two very different sisters, “Sense and Sensibility,” is transposed to the world of Manhattan and Connecticut Jewry. Miranda Weissman is a headstrong, romantic and a disgraced literary agent, while her practical, prim older sibling, Annie, is a librarian and divorcée. When their beloved stepfather abandons their mother, Betty, for a younger woman, and pushes her out of their Central Park West apartment, Miranda and Annie join her in self-imposed exile in a cousin’s each cottage in Westport, Conn.