Common phrases often heard in literary establishments such as classrooms, book clubs, or libraries, the expectation of a book's magnificence is often what propels us fans of writing to fill notebooks with scribbles of "to read next" and "have read" that act as grocery lists for our weekly stop at the supermarket of intellectual stimulation. Picking up new reads, hot sales, or necessities of life, the readers of the world gain energy and keep the mind sharp through and endless cycle of literature, new and old alike. And just as one would buy milk, eggs, and bread at the market, there are certain pieces, classics, that become standard for every book lover to peruse at least once.
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen is one of these such standards. A classic, a masterpiece, a staple of literature. The novel is considered by many to be an elegant and eye opening portrayal of the past. With its own culture surrounding it, Pride and Prejudice is a trademark not only for high school reading requirements, but also for a supposedly thrilling plot line, with romantic whirlwind and a long list of movie versions that keep anyone entertained on a quiet evening. With this hyped up image in mind, it is only logical that my expectations were high upon finally picking up the novel myself.
At first, the novel was just as exciting as any classic I delve into. A perspective of life in the past and the unique writing style of the time is always thrilling and entertaining, drawing me continuously in to the plot and theme, genuinely excited to know what comes next. The first hundred pages or so of Austen's work had me hooked. Who is this Mr. Darcy? What are his intentions? The irony of the character's actions, opinions, and thoughts, were immensely humorous to me, and I was overwhelmingly curious to know how the novel would play out.
However, 285 pages in, it soon became apparent that the plot over all is rather flat. There is not much differentiation than the events that once drew me in. Being well versed in the movie depictions and the many cultural parodies of the work, I assumed I would know how the novel would play out, and be at least relatively entertained. Unfortunately, this is not the case. With a hundred pages left to go, I find myself dragging. The pace is somewhat agonizing, with the same basic descriptions of events happening repeatedly with only slight variation. Is this merely Austen's attempt at accurately portraying life of the time? Or is it simply that I have lost the patience for a slow paced work? Regardless, one of literature's greater staples, which has been revered by many for decades, has failed to hit me as particularly impressive or outstanding.
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet's relationship is entertaining, yes, and the theme Austen presents is excellent and relevant to social climate. Nevertheless, the continual discussion of marriage proposals gets old after a third of the novel is dedicated to it. And while I would love to simply abandon the book for another time, and pick up on where I left off in the ever enthralling world of Dickens or Hugo, I find that I cannot allow myself to leave the novel unfinished. Perhaps it is my streak of perfectionism, or the hope that the last hundred pages will offer a redeeming quality that snatches hold of my interest. Regardless of the reason, Pride and Prejudice will continue to drag at the pace of a snail, and I will continue to be underwhelmed by one of the literary community's favorites.
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