This was last night.
3.05am.
I find I must write at once.
Like Jo March in her scribbling suit, like Cassandra
Mortmain atop her castle tower, I must write, brief as it is.
I’ve just finished watching Becoming Jane, after months and
months of delay. Widaad first made the recommendation, Awin seconded it sometime
afterwards, and now that I’ve finally seen it, I am left with this and only
this:
John Warren : And the famous Mrs. Radcliffe, is she as Gothic as
her novels?
Jane Austen : Not in
externals. But her internal landscape is, I
suspect, quite picturesque.
Mr. Wisley : True of us
all.
True of us all.
I won’t spoil it for you by going any further, but I dare
say these lines will ring a bell with those who’ve seen this film. To those
dear souls, you will understand when I say this:
Wisley over Lefroy, any day. His quiet countenance, his
character, his calmness, his conduct, his patient temperament, his take on
affection…there was such a sweet allure to his personality, and I saw little fault in his stiffness or his social unease, for reasons I cannot fathom.
It was then I realised that I was being completely rational. Reason alone took control and nothing else.
Oh dear God. I suspect I’m growing up.
What a blow to the wild fancies of the heart!
Pardon the seemingly pretentious language used above – rest
assured, the effects of a period film on my way of addressing things will wear
off quite quickly.
I really need to shut up now.
Enough said here.
