Sense and Sensibility Adaptations

I know I've been remarkably lax in the one reading challenge I entered this year. I confessed in January that Sense and Sensibility is not my favorite Austen book, but still, I felt I should re-read it before I started reading and watching various adaptations.

Well, the Sense and Sensibility group read at Indiejane.org just finished yesterday, so now I'm ready. We started our read by hosting a virtual movie night--the '95 movie--in our chat room, and then last week I finally watched the newer BBC production. I'm going to compare them today, knocking off two items for the challenge!

There are two major areas that affect the way an adaptation strikes the audience: casting and script. Both productions have pros and cons on both.

Casting:

I do not care for Hugh Grant in the role of Edward. Dan Stevens was far more suited to it, and I realized as I watched how much Grant's demeanor affected my opinion of the character--keeping in mind that the movie was my first introduction to the story and characters.

Until I watched Dan Stevens as Edward, I truly disliked the character. I could not forgive him for his behavior at Norland, for not leaving once he realized he was in love with Elinor. I couldn't understand how Elinor could accept it! Why wasn't she angry when she found out he'd been engaged the whole time? Looking back on the story, I think it was Grant's delivery of the apology which struck me wrong. Stevens was just pitch perfect in all those scenes, including... ah, but that is part of the script, is it not?

On the other side, for me, Alan Rickman is Colonel Brandon. I didn't dislike David Morrissey, but once you've seen a portrayal you love so much, it is hard to accept anyone else in the role. My favorite scene is at Cleveland when he begs Elinor to give him something to do to keep his mind off Marianne's illness. It strikes just the right note of barely restrained despair that I imagine him to feel.

Script:


Something odd happened here. Usually, I prefer the mini-series version of Austen novels, as there's simply too much to fit into a feature length film. However, despite the things that were cut or only hinted at in Thompson's script, I feel she did a better job, for one reason: she use a much larger percentage of Austen's dialogue.

Jane Austen wrote superior dialogue. It moves the plot along, it defines her characters, and it is charming and witty. Why write other lines that only attempt to say the same thing hers did? I was surprised to find this problem, because the 1995 Pride and Prejudice, also by Sir Andrew Davies, did an amazing job at sticking to the dialogue in the book.

I have to wonder if the shorter length played a part here. Sense and Sensibility is only half as long as Pride and Prejudice, and it's possible he felt there simply wasn't time to use Austen's dialogue. There were certainly some very choppy scene changes, such as when Mrs. Jennings announced they were all removing to Cleveland.

There were four places where I really appreciated the new script:

1. The beginning. Mildly salacious (which Davies seems to prefer), it goes a long way toward displaying Willougby's character. However, on further reflection part of the plot of the book is the whole mystery--is he a rogue or an honorable gentleman? Showing his seduction of Eliza in the first five minutes of the film is like reading the last chapter of a mystery first.
2. The duel. I loved actually seeing this. It's one of those little things you might not even be aware of if you skim over that chapter of the book, but Brandon does indeed call Willoughby out. However (again, a caveat!), I thought the way they filmed in and where they placed it made it seem like he was calling him out over Marianne, not Eliza. If one hadn't read the book before, they would certainly get that impression.
3. Edward's first apology. Though I don't believe for a minute that Elinor and Edward would have had a conversation that came that close to acknowledging what their relationship was while he was still engaged, I absolutely loved his question--"Why don't you think badly of me?" (Um... paraphrasing here!) That sincere admission of guilt and repentance did more to win me over to the character than anything else. 
4. Willougby's horrible excuse for an apology. Okay, Austen purists. I admit, this is one thing I really don't care for in the book. Why does he get to come back and explain away all his bad actions? Why does Elinor give him time to do so, and then accept at the very least, he always loved Marianne and will regret her? Why doesn't she just say, "Hey! You lost your chance because you were too selfish to do the honorable thing. Get out!"? These are things Nancy wants to know, and the abbreviated apology in the mini-series (which is completely omitted in the film) gave me some small bit of satisfaction.

All that being said, the film script wasn't perfect. As mentioned, it omits Willougby's apology altogether. There are times when dialogue moves from mouth to mouth, most notably when Marianne gives Elinor's quote about how Willougby might soon have learnt to rank the demands of his pocketbook above those of his heart. Since this quote is given by Elinor in answer to Marianne's doubt that Willoughby was truly selfish, it is really out of place in the film. 

Also, I don't think it's just Hugh Grant's delivery that makes Edward's explanation and apology at the end fall flat. It's just... off. Like, it doesn't sound like his voice. Also, it didn't sound really apologetic, more like... "Hey, I know things didn't go so well earlier, but now that I'm free, what do you think?" which really made me hate him.

Okay, I know this was long, but I thought it would be easier to do them both in one blog post. These are my second and third completed items for the Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge.

Review: Sass and Serendipity

The only thing most girls of Barton, Texas can talk about is the upcoming prom. Who's going with whom, what dress they bought, and where they'll be going for dinner beforehand--those are the hot topics at school.

Gabby Rivera couldn't care less about any of it. Prom, and everything it represents (in a word: boys), are completely beneath her. She decided when her parents divorced that love wasn't real, and believing some fairy tale prince will sweep her off her feet only keeps her from reality.

Her sister Daphne is less practical. In fact, Daphne isn't practical at all. She loves the idea of love, and she runs into a handsome stranger--literally--she decides he must be her Prince Charming. After all, they both love Jane Eyre!

That's the opening set-up for Sass and Serendipity, a new YA twist on Sense and Sensibility by Jennifer Ziegler. Ziegler takes the theme of sisters from Austen's novel and reworks it into a modern setting. The relationships between the two sisters was real and honest. I loved reading about them, both separately and together. There was a realness to them that drew me in.

Sass and Serendipity was often laugh out loud funny. One of my favorite parts was when Daphne was day dreaming about her future relationship with Luke (who is, of course, Willoughby). "Although they had years go to before their spring garden wedding with the string quartet and the mermaid ice sculpture, there was no harm in being prepared with a good dress design, right?"

I was that girl when I was in high school, and the memory of those secret dress designs cracked me up. Oh, if only I knew then what I know now...

Obviously, Sass and Serendipity was a well-written, funny, YA novel. There's another question however--is it a true Austenesque novel? This is a bit trickier, and I finally approached it from this angle: Would I know it was a retelling of Sense and Sensibility if the title didn't have the double S, or if I wasn't told so on the fly leaf?

I'm not sure I would. Part of my uncertainty comes from the character of Gabby. As much as Daphne strikes a chord as a Marianne, I didn't really feel Gabby was a faithful representation--or even modernization--of Elinor. Elinor's most basic character trait is a strong sense of propriety, a solid understanding of the rules of society. Her conflict with her sister comes when she attempts to check Marianne's less fettered spirits to follow those rules.

Gabby, however, is like Elinor only in her practicality. I could certainly imagine her insisting the family didn't have money for beef (or for the fancy dinner their mother splurges on in a celebration). She holds down a job at the local movie theater to help with the family finances, and she's constantly pestering her sister to apply for work herself.

However, that was really where the similarity ended. Where Elinor hides deep feelings behind a demure mask, events of the past made Gabby bitter. She is determined never to love (a thought that would never cross Elinor's mind, I am sure), and she absolutely rebuffs any boy who shows an interest in her.

That bitterness leads her to lash out at Daphne several times. While I could utterly sympathize with her, I did miss seeing some of the sisterly togetherness that is so present in Sense and Sensibility. Elinor only chastises Marianne out of a desire to see her happy, and one never doubts that the two sisters truly love each other. Even Marianne in her most willful moments does not resent Elinor in the way Daphne does Gabby.

In the end, I felt like Sense and Sensibility is about more than two very different sisters, and those other elements were missing in Sass and Serendipity. The family dynamic and the inclusion of Luke/Willoughby were really the only two things I found that tied the two stories together.

Despite that, I'm giving Sass and Serendipity 4 solid stars. It's an excellent YA novel, with enough hints of Austen to interest a reader looking for a Sense and Sensibility redux. However, if you're looking for a faithful adaptation of Austen, this might not be the novel for you.


This is the first selection I've fulfilled for the Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge.

FTC disclaimer: I received a review copy of this book from the author's publicist. That did not affect my review in any way.

Finding time to read

The first piece of advice aspiring writers receive is, "Read." Steven King said it, agents have said it, and it is (I believe) the seventh habit in 101 Habits of Highly Successful Novelists. Everyone knows this; I want to talk about the execution.

Every writer I know struggles to keep their schedule balanced. Most of us have full time jobs or families that require the lion's share of our time. Writing is something we squeeze into those precious few minutes we call our own. We know we should read; we want to read; it is finding the time that is difficult.

Yesterday I created a writing schedule--fifteen hours blocked out each week are dedicated to my own story. On Tuesday and Thursday I'll write before work, which means those evenings can be filled with reading. I don't know if it's enough, but it's a start.

To stay on track, I've also joined a reading challenge. Laurel Ann of Austenprose is hosting the Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge 2011. My participation level is Disciple, with 5-8 selections. I will read  Eliza's Daughter by Joan Aiken, Colonel Brandon's Diary by Amanda Grange, The Three Weissmans of Westport by Cathleen Schine, and Reason and Romance by Debra White-Smith; I will watch Sense and Sensibility (1995) and Sense and Sensibility (2008).

 Even with a schedule and a reading list, finding time to read will not be easy. How do you, as writers, deal with this? What sort of balance do you strive for? Do you read an hour for every hour you write? Every two hours? Do you spend your lunches and breaks reading, and write when you get home? Any tips you can offer would be most appreciated.