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The disappointment first:
After not being able to stomach more than fifteen minutes of Billie Piper's Fanny in the recent adaptation of Mansfield Park, I thought I'd try the 1999 film version and see if Frances O'Connor could do any better. Unfortunately not - though I made it through 30 minutes this time, mostly through sheer immovable horror.
The film followed the trend of the Billie Piper version in having Fanny chasing Edmund around the house and being accused by Sir Thomas of "improper behaviour" very near the start, and continued to see her speaking her mind on all occasions and skipping down the stairs to partake in the horseriding that, in the book, is the mainstay of her health.
What was much more horrifying was the portrayal of the other characters. I know Tom is supposed to be a bit of a wastrel, but falling off his horse at Mary Crawford's feet and belching a lot because of incredible drunkenness in the middle of the afternoon is taking it a bit far. And I know Lady Bertram is wholly indolent and rarely moves from the sofa, but it's never suggested in the book that this is because she's drunk herself unconscious on gin given to her by Fanny, of all people! But it was Sir Thomas returning from Antigua to be lascivious and offensive that made me turn it off, as I've always rather liked him as a character and I couldn't bear him drooling over his female slaves and complimenting Fanny on her figure with a leer on his face.
It was awful. Dave asked me afterwards if I'd ever seen an Austen adaptation I liked, and I immediately named eight, hopefully soon to be increased to nine, though I haven't yet watched the first episode of the current Sense and Sensibility. I've seen excellent versions of all five of the other books - it's just Mansfield Park nobody seems to be able to do properly.
And now the surprise:
My brother presented me with the first Flashman novel by George Macdonald Fraser at Christmas. Fifty pages in, I was asking anyone who would listen how the reader can possibly like such a despicable character, and how anyone was supposed to enjoy a book about a character they didn't like.
I decided to persevere for a while, anyway, and am ashamed to admit that I was thoroughly enjoying it by about half way through. I certainly don't like Flashman any better, but the narrative is very well written, the story is very exciting, and there's a certain horrified fascination with marvelling at how he manages to extricate himself from situations by heinous actions and rank cowardice and still maintian a heroic reputation! After struggling with the decision to finish the first book, I'm now putting the rest on my wishlist.
After not being able to stomach more than fifteen minutes of Billie Piper's Fanny in the recent adaptation of Mansfield Park, I thought I'd try the 1999 film version and see if Frances O'Connor could do any better. Unfortunately not - though I made it through 30 minutes this time, mostly through sheer immovable horror.
The film followed the trend of the Billie Piper version in having Fanny chasing Edmund around the house and being accused by Sir Thomas of "improper behaviour" very near the start, and continued to see her speaking her mind on all occasions and skipping down the stairs to partake in the horseriding that, in the book, is the mainstay of her health.
What was much more horrifying was the portrayal of the other characters. I know Tom is supposed to be a bit of a wastrel, but falling off his horse at Mary Crawford's feet and belching a lot because of incredible drunkenness in the middle of the afternoon is taking it a bit far. And I know Lady Bertram is wholly indolent and rarely moves from the sofa, but it's never suggested in the book that this is because she's drunk herself unconscious on gin given to her by Fanny, of all people! But it was Sir Thomas returning from Antigua to be lascivious and offensive that made me turn it off, as I've always rather liked him as a character and I couldn't bear him drooling over his female slaves and complimenting Fanny on her figure with a leer on his face.
It was awful. Dave asked me afterwards if I'd ever seen an Austen adaptation I liked, and I immediately named eight, hopefully soon to be increased to nine, though I haven't yet watched the first episode of the current Sense and Sensibility. I've seen excellent versions of all five of the other books - it's just Mansfield Park nobody seems to be able to do properly.
And now the surprise:
My brother presented me with the first Flashman novel by George Macdonald Fraser at Christmas. Fifty pages in, I was asking anyone who would listen how the reader can possibly like such a despicable character, and how anyone was supposed to enjoy a book about a character they didn't like.
I decided to persevere for a while, anyway, and am ashamed to admit that I was thoroughly enjoying it by about half way through. I certainly don't like Flashman any better, but the narrative is very well written, the story is very exciting, and there's a certain horrified fascination with marvelling at how he manages to extricate himself from situations by heinous actions and rank cowardice and still maintian a heroic reputation! After struggling with the decision to finish the first book, I'm now putting the rest on my wishlist.
