They got me again! Honestly, these authors and publishers seem to know how to effortlessly get rabid Anglophiles to part with our dosh. Simply throw the name of one of our beloved (Austen, Dickens, Thackeray, Russell Brand) in the title, and we line up unquestioningly to buy . . . whatever it is. Such is the case with the book
A Walk with Jane Austen by Lori Smith. Not only does the title of the book promise literary, cultural and travel insights about Britain, but the cover features a lovely bucolic scene of meandering streams and grazing sheep. Just the ticket for getting lost in scenic Britain, right? WRONG!
This is another one of those unfortunate "I-need-to-find-myself-because-I'm-having-such-a-crisis-so-I'll-do-it-in-Britain" memoirs. (See
My Love Affair with England.) This book is very, very light on Jane Austen and Britain, and very heavy on the minutia of Lori Smith's problems. Four chapters in, and I'd learned that Ms. Smith had a difficult-to-diagnose illness that left her exhausted, was in her early thirties and not married but desperately looking for a husband, suffered from depression and quit her job "to be a writer." She does throw in the occasional reference from Austen's work to show how it is
so relevant to her own personal situation, but I didn't quite follow her logic.
The reader is treated to the scintillating information that Smith sets out to explore Oxford "in my green T-shirt and matching sort-of-coolish walking shoes and almost knee-length jean skirt with the ruffle." At this point, I'm just breathless to see what outfit she chooses next!! Thankfully, we don't have long to wait, because she next appears "wearing my fun pink pleated skirt with the flip-flops that match exactly." Be still my heart!
The book is also largely about the author's spiritual journey. While it might be enjoyable for the reader who wants to read personal stories of that nature, I felt misled in the way the book was presented. Here is one of the lengthy sentences describing the author's spiritual struggles:
"As soon as I confess and receive forgiveness and occasionally feel the depth of that, the cleanness of being right with God, I set off on another pattern of wrong thinking, where I'm the center of my universe, where even when I try to put other people first and love God (and don't always put that much energy into that), I fail miserably and am aware of the fact that seemingly two seconds after I've been irrevocably washed clean, I am dirty again, like filthy rags."
Um, anyone see the "Walking with Jane" part there? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? I have to say that I didn't make it past chapter four. She may eventually drop all the rambling and actually attempt to write about Austen's Britain, but I didn't have the patience to find out. It's amazing to me that: a) someone thinks anyone wants to read this self-absorbed drivel, and b) that there is a publisher willing to publish it. (All bloggers are somewhat self-absorbed, I know, but we're generally not charging $13.99 for the privilege of letting others in on it.) I must start writing down what I wear every day and the occasional thought I manage to have -- I might just have a best-seller on my hands!
Since I was unable to finish the book, I'll refrain from giving it any Gherkins. That'll show 'em that we Anglophiles take this bait and switch stuff seriously!