by Massey, Beth
Copyright © 2012 Beth Massey
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13:978-1470045340
DEDICATION
For Bill with gratitude and love. To paraphrase my beloved Stylistics: You were there when I needed a friend. You believed in me through thick and thin. This book is for you. If I knew magic like Prospero, my first act would be to make you feel brand new.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
PART ONE - LONDON, FEBRUARY 1806
1 Such People
2 The First Time Ever
3 Great Expectations
4 Et tu, Mrs Darcy?
5 Can I See Another’s Woe, and Not Be in Sorrow Too?
6 Secrets and Lies
7 Good Morning Heartache
8 Don’t They Know It’s the End of the World?
9 I’d Rather Be a Hammer than a Nail… if I only Could
10 Her Pound of Flesh
11 A Good Man is Hard to Find
12 A Tale of Two Families
13 The Unsinkable Elizabeth Bennet
14 Lizzy Gets by with a Little Help from her Friends
15 Stolen Pleasures
16 Strange Fruit
17 Anticipation
18 I Will Always Love You
19 Atonement
20 An Ideal Husband and Father
21 The Portrait of Lord Wolfbridger
22 There is No Place Like home
PART TWO - HERTFORDSHIRE, SEPTEMBER 1811
23 What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love
24 Where is it Now the Glory and the Dream?
25 More Great Expectations
26 Oh, What a Night!
27 A Riddle wrapped in a Mystery inside an Enigma
28 A Good Woman is Even Harder to Find
29 Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered
30 Blessed Be the Tie that Binds
31 Measure for Measure
32 A Flirtation to Remember
33 The Talk of the Town
34 By the Pricking of Her Thumbs
35 Such a Brave New World of Possibilities
36 Dancing with the Green Eyed Monster
37 The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
38 What’s Done is Done
39 The Talent of Writing Agreeable Letters is Peculiarly Female
40 What’s in a Name?
41 Oh, Tell me the Truth about Love, War and Depravity
42 Disguise of Every Sort
43 Trains of Trust and Golden Dust
44 Oh, What a Day!
45 A Tale of Two Sisters
46 Lovesick Blues
47 Star Crossed Lovers
48 Good Wombs have Borne Bad Sons
49 We Will Be Glad When You’re Dead, You Rascals You
50 Just Give Me Some Kind of Sign
51 It is the Laughter We will Remember
52 Ode to the Beauty of Truth
53 Something Wicked this Way Comes
54 In What Furnace was thy Brain?
55 Truth is the First Casualty
56 The Pursuit of Love in a Cold Climate in the Time of Measles
57 Take These Chains from my Heart
58 Bridge Over Troubled Water
59 Dance Me to the End of Love
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is a truth universally acknowledged that aspiring writers in possession of a fervent love of literature, music, art, theatre, history and the struggle of humans for a better world have many people to thank. My first task is to give credit to those who most inspired this work. Some I will not mention as their influence can be seen throughout the text—snippets of lyrics I have loved, images I have seen, novels I have read, historical texts that have taught me and political writings I have embraced—all demanded to have their share in the conversation. That being said, there are some who were the cultural inspiration for this tale.
As my Fitzwilliam Darcy says in a letter to his Elizabeth—‘I will start at the beginning… with Shakespeare.’ In my life, the love affair began when I joined the Chattanooga Little Theatre Company in Chattanooga, Tennessee at eight. There are nods to many of the bard’s works, but it was his final play that gave my tale its premise and title. I first became enamored of ‘The Tempest’ when I played Trinculo at nineteen. I admire the play’s optimism, and as the state of Arizona accuses—its themes of ‘race, ethnicity and oppression.’
Layer upon that foundation, a group of paintings of the ingenue from ‘The Tempest’ that captured my imagination. They were done by George Romney. His most frequently painted subject, outside all the portraits of wealthy patrons, was the infamous Emma Hart/Lady Hamilton, and she was the model he chose for this series depicting Miranda. What I responded to was the haunted look he captured in her eyes. Both the dramatic character he painted (the castaway daughter of the usurped Duke of Milan) and his muse (Emma Hart—then a sixteen year old mistress to a second wealthy man) lived precarious lives fraught with hardships as does my heroine. One of Romney’s images of Miranda became my cover. A more sedate painting of a ‘Young Girl Reading’ by Fragonard became the juxtaposed alter persona for my Elizabeth.
Throughout the tale there are other contemporary to Austen artists’ works that provided me with images to illustrate my vision. One in particular, Francisco de Goya, was outraged by what was occurring in his home country of Spain at the time of my tale. He left a profound legacy that allows us to see the impact of war and occupation on a civilian population. Goya was as ground breaking as Jane Austen was—taking painting, as she took the novel, in a new ‘modern’ direction. Though a court painter for The Spanish Crown, he broke through those confines and chronicled life around him—as did Miss Austen. Their observations of everyday life were starkly different, and I chose to combine both their outlooks in Goodly Creatures. Goya’s series ‘The Disasters of War’ graphically depicts the horrors of the conflict raging around him. In particular, I have always been moved by his ‘The Third of May 1808.’ A description of what is shown there was a major inspiration for one of my chapters. I first became aware of that painting and experienced its powerful vision of a retaliatory firing squad and the diverse emotional response of the participants, as an art history student at Monticello College in Godfrey, Illinois. The faces of those being killed for daring to object to the occupation of Spain by Napoleon’s troops and those same troops carrying out the ordered sentence have haunted and inspired me as an anti-war activist for close to fifty years. I was introduced to the painting by a very astute Iranian professor, painter and poet, Hannibal Alkhas. It was at a time when combatants dubbed guerillas (the actions of the insurgents in Spain during the Peninsular War gave us the word) were fighting U.S. troops in South East Asia. Very few courses during my college career had as profound an effect on me as his.
In addition to Goya’s depiction of the terrors of war, I must thank Georgette Heyer in ‘Spanish Bride’ for giving me a verbal feel for the horror experienced by both soldiers and civilians (especially women) during the storming of Badajoz.
As becomes obvious early in my story, Charles Perrault’s fairy tales were a major theme throughout. Elizabeth Bennet was a contemporary of the brothers Grimm so she would not have had benefit of their compilation of folklore. Perrault’s would have been available though and could have been a great tool for teaching English speaking children the French language. In addition, I have often believed that much of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ fan fiction is far from Austen’s style and instead reflects a fairy tale view of literature’s iconic couple. I suppose, my use of those tales which still entertain and influence us today
(the recent ‘Puss in Boots’ movie as an example) could be classified as my attempt at an inside joke.
Another stylistic conceit I used sporadically in Part One was something I had seen in Kurosawa’s ‘Rashomon.’ It too dealt with rape. From the first viewing of the film, I became fascinated with watching the major characters’ differing memories and evaluations of such a personal and life altering event.
The French Revolution rocked Jane Austen’s world. Though she barely mentions it, there is plenty of historical evidence to support its importance to the politics of her day and her own family. My appreciation for its legacy, particularly with regard the role and aspirations of women began when I read Marge Piercy’s ‘City of Darkness, City of Light.’ The controversy of how to evaluate the French Revolution raged for decades—through years of war with Napoleon and beyond. Two of the polemics that I reflect on are from Mary Wollstonecraft and Edmund Burke. One burning question that was so hotly debated was the terror. I reject Dickens’s (‘A Tale of Two Cities’) and embrace Mark Twain’s (‘The Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court’) view. My Elizabeth’s struggle to make sense of her misfortune is placed in the context of much bigger tragedies that existed in her world. Thanks go to Laclos and Moliere, as well, for giving me a tone with which to approach my story. I drew heavily from their writings with regard how to portray the hypocrisy and corruption that threatened my protagonist. William Blake as both poet and artist lent me a hand in helping to craft her thoughts on those subjects as well.
On the music front I owe a great debt of gratitude to Patrick Galvin’s ‘Irish Songs of Resistance.’ It was an excellent source of information about the tunes and lyrics and the history of struggle in Ireland they reflected. John Gay’s ‘Beggars Opera’ allowed my Elizabeth to push the boundaries of inequality of relations between the sexes, and to a lesser extent classes, in the context of music. His use of traditional songs to point out hypocrisy was brilliant and inspired another of my idols Berthold Brecht.
Of course, the greatest thanks for inspiration is reserved for Jane Austen. There are bits and pieces of every one of her novels interspersed throughout ‘Goodly Creatures.’ It was a desire to give her two Elizas from ‘Sense and Sensibility’ a happy ending that first moved me to attempt fan fiction. I wanted to try my hand at telling tales, so what better way to get feedback than writing serially ‘a la Dickens’ in an online forum. The plot of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ seemed the most advantageous to pursue—besides, it is the most popular for readers at the different sites where I posted my story—and would assure me a larger readership. I was already committing a major heresy by raping Elizabeth Bennet (a beloved character) so I thought I should not push my luck or make my story too repugnant by using a lesser favored of Austen’s plots. I did wonder and even felt some outrage when I heard that particular criticism. Would it have been acceptable to rape Lydia Bennet or Maria Bertram (non-beloved characters)? But, I digress. ‘Pride and Prejudice’ is about people changing, after all, and the characters I envisioned all needed to rid themselves of considerable baggage in order to achieve a happy-ever-after.
I debated the question of whether to use some of Austen’s prose or to completely ignore it and create my own. In the end, I chose to wrap her words around my changes to her plot. Though the words spoken in ‘Goodly Creatures’ are many times identical, the meaning often shifts dramatically and even the speaker or the one spoken to are not always the same. This was one of the most enjoyable things about my process.
Ms Austen in chapter 44 of ‘Sense and Sensibility,’ through the words she put in Willoughby’s mouth created the definitive selfish and amoral character—the first such intentionally psychological depiction in literary history—at least for me. The seducer without a conscience she crafted would in today’s world be labeled a sociopath. Her truth left me stunned and with the belief that she also did not believe justice was served—but felt it the better part of discretion not to say it in print. Her description of Willoughby’s domestic felicity and freedom to enjoy his horses and dogs was to my ears dripping in irony and I even detected a whiff of angry sarcasm. Thanks, for making me do this, Jane.
It is time I turned to the living in my acknowledgements. The first group I must tip my hat to is my family. My sisters and brother—Bronwyn Hinton, Sari Bledsoe and Dr. John Semmer are throughout this tale—as are my deceased mother and father. We like the Darcy siblings lost our parents early, and all know the pain of being rudderless at an early age. It is my brother John who became the prototype for my hero, a good man who was a bit too rigid in his following of society’s rules as a young man. My sister, Sari, read the serialized version of the story online and gave tremendous encouragement.
Friends also provided inspiration, encouragement and acted as advisors. The memory of a voicemail from my coworker Dwana provided the imagery and words for one of my favorite scenes. My high school girl friends, Connie, Dianne, Martha and Pam were the inspiration for another. Barbara Gregorich, an amazing author, has been one of my staunchest supporters. She gave me invaluable aid in learning how to self-publish.
The online community for Jane Austen Fan Fiction is a wondrous thing—enthusiastic, passionate, kind, astute and international. The idea that readers will comment on what you are doing is amazing and was a tremendous aid in determining where I needed to improve and what about my characters was not being understood—it was even better than having Gertrude Stein critique my manuscript. I raise the international component because it was particularly thrilling to me that my words were being read all over the world. Though a strong believer in the sovereignty of all nations, I think the way forward—humanity’s brave new world so to speak—is through international understanding and cooperation. There are no borders in the JAFF world. I thank all I have met, but I especially enjoyed my interaction with Loli in Puerto Rico, José in Greece, Pumza in South Africa and Ann in Austrailia.
The other amazing thing about the Jane Austen community is the assistance offered so freely by participants to aspiring writers. The people who helped me were amazing and thankfully very honest. I know what you will read is greatly improved by their contribution. Pam W was the one who pushed me to rewrite this story and post a second time. The first draft was entirely too long and full of unnecessary tangents. Along the way as beta for that ride, Pam was fabulous at asking me probing questions about my characters’ motives and actions. My other beta was Carol B. She knows ‘Sense and Sensibility’ backwards and forwards and would not allow me to take the easy road when portraying Eleanor (my first Eliza). She insisted my character reflect the faults Austen had given her. Carol was also instrumental in pointing out cuts I could make to improve flow and focus. And, then there was her gently pointing out that I had written prone when I meant supine. Letting my error stand would have resulted in a major guffaw for readers since I had used the word to describe the way a very pregnant Elizabeth was lying on the floor.
Sybil H, who I met online, and then learned she lives only a few miles from me, has become my friend. She volunteered to take on the job of doing a detailed critique of my story after it had been posted for the second time. Acting as my editor, she questioned me on oh so many things, and because she was close we were able to spend time together in person going over her impressions and suggestions for improvements. This final version would not have been as accomplished or probably not even accomplished at all without her input.
The process of implementing an editor’s suggestions often results in missing words or words that should have been deleted during the rewrites. In addition, I chose to use British English in my novel and being an American that presented a challenge. What could be better than to have a professional proofreader do the final perusal? Even more advantageous would be to have that person be from the UK and have a well-rounded knowledge of British history and literature. Kathryn Begley is the person who offered her services as part of the JAFF community. She performed the final check for me. I am very grateful.
My biggest thanks is for my husband. He was both an inspiration and a major help in accomplishing this project. He and I have the right names (Beth and William), but he is not my Mr. Darcy. As I said earlier, that honor went to my brother. When I met Bill Massey, he was thirteen years my elder—more like Colonel Brandon or Mr. Knightley. He owned no estate, but instead had under his belt two tours in the marines, a six month spell in an Irish Christian Brothers’ seminary, time working a clerical job at National Review because he agreed with their politics, a stint living homeless on the streets of New York City and incarceration in the same jail at the same time as Dr. King as a participant in the Civil Rights Movement. In addition, he was struggling with a deteriorating marriage and had undergone a profound political conversion worthy of Saul on the road to Damascus. He did not hesitate for one second to express his outrage when I told a few friends that I had been the victim of date rape—even though my female roommate did not. In 1968, what happened to me was not considered a crime. It was something I was expected to accept as the lot of my sex and the consequence of poor judgment. Women had the responsibility to take the precautions necessary to guard themselves against unscrupulous men; and if they failed in that endeavor, society judged them the guilty party. It was determined that their dress had been provocative, they drank to excess or they went somewhere they should not have gone. Bill, who was only a friend at the time, likened my ordeal to the denial of nations to the right of self-determination. His passionate solidarity with my plight endeared him to me and played no small role in our becoming a couple after the failure of his marriage. We have been together more than forty years. Though he is triply disabled and dealing with the effects of aging has resulted in the development of numerous fears and anxieties which has prompted me on occasion to rudely refer to him as Mr. Woodhouse, he still makes me laugh—much more Henry Tilney than Fitzwilliam Darcy.
