A Modern Retelling of Jane Eyre in Rachel Hawkins's The Wife Upstairs.

This novel takes the characters and plot points from Jane Eyre and recasts them into a suspense story set in modern-day Alabama. I love retellings, and the shifting of Jane Eyre into a dog walker in a fancy housing development is a good choice. The opening scene with the snotty Mrs. Reed who sends her out walking in the rain is well done. Hawkins doesn't worry too much about staying exactly true to the characters as Bronte wrote them, so both the Jane character and John Rivers are a little bit of a surprise.

It's also a very twisty mystery, and I didn't guess the ending, even though in retrospect I totally should have.

While I enjoyed the mystery, characterization, and reshaping of plot points, the pacing was not great. It takes a very long time for the suspenseful part to emerge - in fact, just when I was wondering how much longer she could string out the romance between Eddie Rochester and Jane, a plot twist emerges. Once the suspense gets going, it feels less exciting than I think it's meant to be.

This, however, could also have something to do with the audiobook narration. I alternated between the audiobook and a kindle copy, and I wound up listening to the final third. When Eddie takes over the narration, it's spoiled in my mind because the narrator is very sleepy sounding. Eddie's supposed to be a bit of an enigma, but the narration sounds a little like a deer in the headlights.

Overall, I enjoyed this book and read it really quickly, but I also wished it was just a little bit better.

I received an ARC of this novel from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Virginia Kantra's Meg & Jo

In the middle of a pandemic, with no clear timeline for any of us getting to leave our homes anytime soon, comfort reading is in order. Virginia Kantra's Meg & Jo seems like the perfect fit for right now. It is an adaptation and modern retelling of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, which was one of my favorite childhood books. Jane Austen adaptations are an industry of their own, but Alcott's Little Women has gotten very little attention from novelists. Despite the many screen adaptations, I can only think of one other novel version, Geraldine Brooks's March, which tells the story of the March sisters' absent father while he is on the battlefront. Are there others that I'm missing?

Meg & Jo illustrates one very good reason that there may be fewer adaptations: it is hard to hit the right tone. The characters in Little Women fight and undergo hardships, but there's an underlying cheerfulness that sometimes seems hard to believe. While Kantra has found a creative way to update Alcott's story, it's heavy-going at some points because the characters are so weighed down by burdens and unhappiness. In some sections, the novel misses much of the original's joy.

And then there are moments where it veers a bit too far into heavy-panting romance and over the top language. When Jo's in the throes of a romantic encounter, she tells us that "he kissed like this was the main course instead of merely an appetizer, like he could go on kissing me for hours." She describes sex as "hot and wet, carnal and wonderful. I was drowning in sensation. In him." Her love interest declares that "I have such a taste for you, Jo." In response, Jo describes feeling like "His whisper sparkled along my nerves, burst in my chest like a fistful of glitter. And my breath went all over again." What does it even mean that her "breath went all over again"? The writing in these sections feels more like a cheap romance novel more than a witty updating of a classic.

Despite this, I did enjoy the novel as a whole, especially in the second half when the different plot lines start converging. Kantra is tough on the father, which doesn't feel entirely out of place given how small his presence is in Little Women. Just like Alcott's novel, Meg & Jo celebrates family in a way that doesn't feel contrived or artificial. Despite my misgivings about tone and the writing, this novel is a light read for a pandemic.

I received an ARC of this novel from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Sense and Sensibility updated: HIllary Manton Lodge's Jane of Austin

In the world of Austen adaptations, there are four main categories: spin-offs that tell the continuing adventures of one or more of the characters (Molly Greeley's The Clergyman's Wife), retellings from a different point of view (Jo Baker's brilliant and beautifully written Longbourn), modern retellings that update Austen's characters (Curtis Sittenfeld's Eligible), and re-writes that stick to the story, but place it in another setting to show how Austen's insights on class, gender, and prejudice continue to be relevant (Soniah Kamal's amazing Unmarriageable and Ibi Zoboi's fabulous Pride). 

This novel fits into the third category: a modernized retelling focused on updating the story for fans who know the story and can appreciate the cleverness of Austen's characters reimagined today or readers who are unlikely ever to pick up the original. Jane of Austin is a modern take on Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility featuring three sisters whose father embezzled money from his firm and disappears to avoid the repercussions. The sisters ultimately have to relocate to Austin, where they hope to open a tea shop and support themselves. It's a fun read, and the modern twists on Austen's tale are creative, including shifting the Colonel Brandon character to a disabled war veteran.

Lodge makes the interesting decision to tell the story through Jane (the Marianne character) and Callum (the Colonel Brandon character). Austen's original emphasizes Elinor's story and point of view, so this adds another perspective and makes Marianne's point of view easier to understand (and feel less over-emotional and melodramatic). Margaret (here Margot) also has a chance to come more into her own because she's depicted as an older character with more chances to show her personality.

I had no idea that this was published by a Christian imprint until I read a few other reviews. It doesn't come through strongly in the novel, so I'm wondering what makes it specifically Christian.

Overall, I found this a light and enjoyable read, and I plan to make some of the recipes that are included (not the tea, though. Way too fussy.).

I received an ARC of this novel through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

In case you've ever wondered how things turned out for Charlotte Lucas and Mr. Collins: Molly Greeley's The Clergyman's Wife

Some recent Austen adaptations have reimagined Pride and Prejudice from different racial, ethnic, or national perspectives (e.g., Ibi Zoboi's Pride, Corrie Garrett's Pride and Prejudice and Passports, and Soniah Kamal's Unmarriageable). These adaptations illustrate how questions of class, economics, and female independence continue to resonate beyond nineteenth-century drawing rooms.

Molly Greeley's new novel, The Clergyman's Wife (coming out Dec. 3, 2019), functions in a different way. This novel extends the storyline of Pride and Prejudice to three years after the original novel's conclusion. Told from Charlotte Collins's point of view, this story not only imagines what happens to the couple, but also how Charlotte feels about her marriage to the ridiculous Mr. Collins.

In that way, it's a fantasy novel. The Charlotte Lucas of Austen's novel reveals so little about her thoughts beyond her practical view of marriage and the ways that she has accommodated her married life to carve out some space and time for herself outside of her husband's sycophantic devotion to Lady Catherine. The Charlotte Collins of Greeley's novel is no less practical or accommodating, but her frustration with her husband gets full expression, as well as her frustration that she had so few other options.

To some extent, this novel mirrors Patricia Rozema's film adaptation of Mansfield Park (1999). Rozema re-writes Fanny Price to be a much more spirited character, melding her with a fantasy vision of an outspoken Jane Austen and a Fanny who is less sanctimonious and more rebellious. Greeley's Charlotte Collins has to work hard not to roll her eyes at her husband's behavior or Lady Catherine's rudeness. She also has desires for connection and community that can't be fully suppressed.

I won't give away what happens, except to say that I was wrapped up in Charlotte's story and in much suspense about where it was heading.

I received an ARC of this novel from Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.

Mahesh Rao's novel Polite Society: Austen's Emma in India

I’m usually a total sucker for Austen re-writes, and I was excited to see this modern retelling of Emma in India. It’s usually Pride and Prejudice that’s being retold, so I was looking forward to a version of Emma.

Unfortunately, this novel was a real disappointment. It has none of the depth, social critique, humor, or charm of Austen’s original. The Emma character, Ania, has all of her flaws, but no redeeming qualities. She’s petty and even cruel in one scene. She doesn’t redeem herself by the end, and I really didn’t care about her relationship with Dev, the Knightley character. 

In fact, the most interesting character is Dimple (Rao's version of Harriet Smith), who is sweet and much more thoughtful and observant than Ania. 

I know that Emma is often the most disliked of Austen’s protagonists, but that doesn’t mean that Ania has to be this spoiled and thoughtless.

I received an ARC of this novel from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Why you should read yet another Pride and Prejudice adaptation (Soniah Kamal's Unmarriageable)le

I have read a LOT of Pride and Prejudice adaptations in the last few years. Some of them work really well - Ibi Zoboi's Pride and Jo Baker's Longbourn are particular standouts, and Bridget Jones's Diary has become something of a comfort read for me. Soniah Kamal's Unmarriageable (subtitled Pride and Prejudice in Pakistan), however, is my new favorite, not only because it works, but also because it is so smart and enjoyable.

Similar to the film Bride and Prejudice, Kamal's version uses the backdrop of a marriage-obsessed (including arranged marriage-obsessed) society to show how the class and gender issues that Austen wove into her plots still operate in some parts of the world. The Bennet sisters' dilemma is not an antique artifact for Alysba Binat and her sisters, but a constant pressure.

But Unmarriageable doesn't work just because the social strictures of early nineteenth-century England translate well to Pakistan in 2000. Kamal has re-imagined the plot and the characters in ways that are unique to her narrative and add a richness to the framework of Austen's story. Take, for example, Sherry Looclus, the Charlotte Lucas character, who has formed an alliance with Alys over cigarettes and frank conversations in the graveyard near the Binat house. The friendship between the two women has developed through sharing frustrations over work (they’re both literature teachers at a local girls’ school), their parents' determination to get them married, irritation that the only respectable way to have sex in Pakistani society is to get married, and the tedium (particularly for Sherry) of meetings with increasingly unappealing potential mates. Kamal has fully re-imagined Sherry’s need to marry without it seeming mercenary, but rather as a believable and deeply considered imperative. Plus, Kamal’s rendering of the horrible meet and greet with an old man who makes Sherry give him a neck massage before rejecting her makes clear how limited her options are - and where Kaleen would fall on the desirability spectrum. As a reader, I was genuinely sad when Alys and Sherry’s friendship is tested by Sherry's marriage (a marriage that is as compromised and complicated as in Austen's original).

Alongside the re-workings of Austen’s story, this novel is a lot of fun. I found myself googling many of the clothes that Kamal mentions so that I could visualize the splendor of the gatherings. Alys is also a smart and funny character who cares about her family, but also has her own ideas about how she wants to live her life and what her connection is to Pakistani culture.

As for the Alys/Darsee romance...after the expected display of pride and dislike on both sides, Alys’s relationship with Darsee is sparked by a mutual love of books and a sense of feeling between cultures. When they inevitably get together at the end, it feels right both for Austen’s world and for the one Kamal has created. Overall, this is a satisfying read.
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