J A N E T I L I T Y

My dear Cassandra

My expectation of having nothing to say to you after my last letter, if not the Truth, is very near it. I can only say that I have nothing that was of interest or pleasure to me, though you, my dear sister, may find some diversion in it.

On Sunday last, as I was leaving from church, I fell prey to the insufferable Digweeds once more, and they would not be at peace until I promised to drink tea with them this evening to watch another of their Programmes. I have found very little of merit in these Programmes, and cannot comprehend those who will sacrifice the better part of an evening to them. The Digweeds, however, would hear no refusal, and cried, “How can you not wish to see the Oscars! You must come to see the Oscars!” in such an insistent fashion, that I gave a hurried before their vociferous demands invited scenes unpleasant to more than myself.

I had, at least, the comfort of knowing that this Proposal would not lead to a weekly summons, as this particular Programme is but an annual Ceremony whereupon those who devise and put up the Playlets, of which I have spoke in my previous letters,all come together to single out some of their Profession for particular Honours. The notion of watching people who have got so accustomed to the praise of the Public coming together to praise each other is of little interest to me, but the Digweeds assured me that it was an excellent opportunity to observe all of the latest fashions, and that there would be the additional diversion of some music.

I arrived promptly at seven to find the Digweeds already assembled before their Device, and believed that I had mistook the time, but they assured me that it would be at least an hour or more before the commencement of the Programme, and that what they were watching was only a Prologue to the Occasion. This Prologue consisted of a Promenade, whereupon the Candidates for the Honours were set upon by a number of fawning Hosts and Hostesses and complimented upon their appearance and quizzed upon their finery, and importuned for the names of their dressmaker and jeweler, to which the long-suffering Candidates reply with admirable forbearance. The ladies, it seems are singled out above the gentlemen for this impertinent teazing; they for the most part, are asked little more than to introduce the mothers and grown-up daughters that they have brought to the Event. Their wives, I suppose, chuse to stay at home where they may watch the proceedings in peace and comfort.

Once all have been ushered into a great Theatre, a Master of Ceremonies appears and attempts to divert those present with a succession of quips and jests, often made at the expense of the anxious Competitors. Occasionally, one might catch a look of displeasure from one of the Objects, yet for the most part, they all affect a show of good-humour and forebearance.

There are a great many of awards to be presented, and it is the custom of the Programme to begin with a presentation to a Performer, who will step forward to triumph over his rivals with a great show of humility and a little speech of thanks to all of his acquaintance. A number of lesser awards are then presented by Performers of some renown to Candidates that nobody cares for, and the sole purpose of this seems to be to liberate Viewers at home so that they may go in quest of some light fare or pour out tea and coffee without any apprehension that something agreeable or diverting will be missed (a quest that is likewise reserved for those episodes of necessary Commerce that disrupt the Programme at frequent intervals).

 As the Digweeds had promised, there was something of music to relieve the tedium of this prolonged Affair, but these were in the form of some dancing, or a chorale or a solo Performer who rendered a great, wailing ballad. When two hours had passed with nothing more remarkable than this parade of Honours and indifferent Music, I attempted to make my excuses, and was shocked to hear from Miss Digweed that the Programme was but half finished. Indeed, only last week, I attended a ball at the Mayhews’, and danced from nine in the evening until four o’clock the next morning, and I declare that I did not feel half as weary as I did after two hours of this Programme.

 Miss Digweed assured me that the most significant Honours and the finest Speeches were saved to the last, and yet does it not display a want of sense or feeling to withhold until the end what a spectator may then be too weary to enjoy? I saw nothing at all to suggest that what was laid out in four hours could not be accomplished in one, unless it is to provide an Occasion for as many Performers as possible to air out their finery and show off their humility, generosity and other amiable qualifications.

As for the name “Oscars” given to the Occasion, I cannot satisfy your curiosity upon this point, unless it is drawn from Lord Byron’s Oscar of Alva as a subtle suggestion that, among the Performers at least, this annual rivalry is taken up in deadly earnest; or, it may be (as I am inclined to think) that it is an allusion to the volume wherein that verse is contained, that is, Hours of Idleness.

Your affectionate sister,

Etc, etc

“We have tried to get Self-Control, but in vain. I should like to know what her Estimate is, but am always afraid of finding a clever novel too clever and of finding my own story and my own people all forestalled.” So wrote Jane Austen to Cassandra on the last day of April, 1811.

“I should like to know what her Estimate is…”

Is Austen’s “I should like to know what her Estimate [i.e., reception and readership] is” disingenuous? Self-Control, the first novel of Scottish author Mary Brunton, had been published in early 1811 and was an immediate success. At the time that Austen wrote her letter, Brunton was correcting proofs for the novel’s second printing; Austen could not have been unaware of Brunton’s very favorable “Estimate”.

Self-Control is a rambling part-romance/part-morality tale. Seventeen-year-old Laura Montreville, raised in rural Scotland, possesses “…an active mind, a strong sense of duty and the habit of meeting and overcoming adverse circumstances.” She has become infatuated with the most eligible of her suitors, the wealthy Colonel Villiers Hargrave. Unfortunately for Laura, the Hargrave she admires “…was a creature of her imagination”. When he attempts to seduce her, she innocently assumes he is proposing marriage. Her disgust and his remorse effect an agreement: if Hargrave will demonstrate his contrition by living a scrupulously honorable life for two years, Laura will marry him at the end of them.

An error that has delayed the payment of the Montrevilles’ annuity requires Laura’s widowed father to meet with agents in London. He is accompanied by Laura, and there they are introduced to the son of a former acquaintance, Montague DeCourcy. DeCourcy becomes Laura’s admirer and her anonymous patron, when she attempts to meet their expenses by selling her paintings. Hargrave pursues Laura to town, but even as Laura’s father encourages her to accept his proposals, she learns that he has not kept to his pledge, but has become involved in a sordid affair with a married woman.

Laura’s father dies, and the scene shifts to the household of the wealthy Lady Pelham, the estranged maternal aunt to whom Laura appeals for help. This lady’s country residence is in the neighborhood of the DeCourcy manor and Laura and DeCourcy become more attached to one another, while evidence of Hargrave’s depravity mounts. Lady Pelham allies herself with Hargrave for the wealth and station that marriage to him would confer upon Laura (and, by extension, herself) and collaborates with him to trick Laura into an elopement.

From here, the plot takes an improbable course. Hargrave has Laura spirited off to North America, and detained in an isolated cabin. Laura escapes, makes her way through the woods, finds a canoe along a riverbank, navigates it down the river, through rapids and over a waterfall, is rescued by settlers who help her arrange passage back to Scotland, where she is reunited with DeCourcy.

When Austen again mentions the novel, about a week before the release of Sense and Sensibility, she is less apprehensive about it’s being “too clever”. While she concedes that it is “…an excellently-meant, elegantly written work”, she adds that it lacks “nature or probability”, and that “I do not know whether Laura’s passage down the American river is not the most natural, possible, every-day thing she ever does.”

It is difficult to detect any relief from Austen’s moderately generous remark, but upon finally getting her hands on a copy of Self-Control, complacency would have been “the most natural, possible, every-day” response. She would have been too modest to boast of her superiority as a novelist, but the differences in style, humor, characterization, plotting were obvious. Self-Control is exposition without “voice”, behavior without insight, contrivance without humor, essentially a 300 page plot squeezed into 500 wordy pages that calls up a remark of Sherlock Holmes: “…he had not that supreme gift of the artist, the knowledge of when to stop.”

Still, Austen may have seen hints of “my own story and my own people” in Brunton’s work. In the incompatible match between Montreville and his wife, there are shades of the Palmers, the Bertrams or the Bennets. The garrulous, well-meaning landlady, Mrs. Dawkins, with her dissimilar daughters calls up Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton and Charlotte Palmer. In the presumption of Montreville’s business associate toward Laura, we see something of John Thorpe or Mr. Elton. Like Mr. Collins, Miss DeCourcy’s placid suitor, Mr. Bolingbroke “…was resolved to marry, for he considered marriage as one of the duties of his station.” When Hargrave confides his intentions to Lady Pelham, her imagination jumps from the wedding announcement, to herself riding around in her married niece’s barouche and four, to public acclaim for her bringing about the match as rapidly as Caroline Bingley’s imagination progresses from admiration to love to marriage; and when Lady Pelham chastises Laura for refusing Hargrave, we hear in her “…you will never have it in your power to throw away such another offer. You need hardly expect to awaken such another passion”, a reproof similar to Mr. Collins’ reaction to Lizzy’s refusal.

“I should like to know what HER estimate is…”

Self-Control certainly forestalls Sense and Sensibility in Laura’s “Team Elinor” conviction that “Her own sensibility she had been taught to consider as a weakness to be subdued, not as an ornament to be gloried in”, and there is a frankness about the inequity of consequence in extra-marital relationships; i.e., that men can retain their social footing, while women are permanently disgraced.

There are a few pioneering plot elements as well: at one point, Laura decides to earn a living as a painter, with some success; later she decides to study the male-dominated field of mathematics, and shows some aptitude for it. A heroine who is intellectually curious and who is able and willing to be self-supporting is noteworthy, but both subplots are undeveloped and short-lived.

Austen’s recollections of Self-Control were not short-lived. Three years later, Mansfield Park was published (and comparisons can certainly be drawn between the Fanny/Henry Crawford and Laura/Hargrave relationships), and Austen tallied the opinions of friends and family; they were generally complimentary, but many expressed a preference for her previous publication, Pride and Prejudice. In a letter to Anna Lefroy, she addresses Brunton’s novel more satirically: “I will redeem my credit…by writing a close imitation of Self-Control as soon as I can. I will improve upon it; my Heroine shall not merely be wafted down an American river in a boat by herself, she shall cross the Atlantic in the same way.”

My Dear Sister,

I had resigned myself to quiet evenings of reading while Henry dwelt upon his Face Book when we received a note from Mr. Plumtre to say that he had once more secured a box to Part III in the series of Bella and Edward playlets – Part III is called Eclipse – and knowing how very curious you were to learn how the plight of these two young people would reach its resolution, I consented to lay aside my book.

The Twilight Saga, Part III, Eclipse begins with a dispute between Bella and Edward, whose schemes for the future have put them at variance, as Bella will not consent to take the name of Cullen unless she may share in that family’s gross Malady, which Edward is reluctant to inflict upon her. Bella’s insistence and Edward’s reluctance take up a great deal of The Twilight Saga, Part III, Eclipse and I could not help but feel some irritation toward the young people – to have such earnestness and yet no resolve! Their manner in everything is the same as ever it was, but for Edward’s willingness to venture into the sunlight now and again, though it has done little to alleviate his Pallor.

Meanwhile, in a distant town called Seattle, a young man has got himself in liquor and so is unable to ward off a violent Attack which inflicts upon him the same gross Malady as Edward and all his family, but without imparting any of their forbearance in regard to their Appetites. Yet, before we can work up any sympathy for this Unfortunate, his plight is quickly dropt and we are thrown back upon Bella and Edward once more.

Bella’s father (to whom she refers, quite impertinently, by his Christian name!) expresses dismay to learn that that she has slighted her friend Jacob, and reminds her that the old friendships must be kept up as well as the new. Edward objects to her continuing the Acquaintance, as Jacob, his family and his companions once Were Wolves and – though they may assume a human Form – they are at the mercy of Passions which have the effect of making them into Wolves once more.

Moreover, there are ancient Hostilities between those who Were Wolves and those who suffer the Cullens’ gross Affliction, and these hostilities have carried over in to the present Generation – and so for Bella to befriend one must be an affront to the other.

While in the company of their friends at school, Edward and Bella are struck by the pensiveness of his sister, Miss Alice Cullen, which is a Symptom of her peculiar Foresight. She declares that her family must ready themselves for some unhappy Trial, and that Bella will be a party to their Misfortune. It seems that the flame-haired villainess, Victoria, who bears ill will toward Bella and the Cullens (as she continues to hold them responsible for the death of her Beloved, which occurred in The Twilight Saga, Part I), has resolved to raise up an army of freshly Afflicted, making a particular protégé of the intoxicated young man who was pressed into Affliction at the beginning of the piece and charging him to seek out Bella’s whereabouts. Edward persuades Bella to take herself away, and she consents to make a brief visit to her Mother, who continues in a distant land with the cricket player of great renown.

This visit is not unmixed with sadness, as Bella anticipates that this must be their last meeting before she becomes one of the Afflicted. To ease her mother into the notion of separation, Bella declares that she means to go to University (as it seems in the town of Forks, ladies may also sit for the examinations!) in the distant country of Alaska, a place quite northward it seems. While Bella enjoys her time with her mother, the flame-haired villainess Victoria descends upon the town of Forks. Her presence is quickly rooted out, and she is set upon by the Cullens, but the pursuit carries them beyond their own borders and into the ancestral lands of those who Were Wolves, a breach of the prior Understanding that a strict division in territory between the Wolves and the Afflicted would always be maintained.

This transgression stirs up their ancient hostility, and throws a pall upon the younger generation, and this general dislike becomes a more particular resentment when Jacob is given to understand that Bella means to become one of the Afflicted as soon as she has finished with school. Jacob’s jealous hatred of Edward and his love for Bella brings pain to them both, for upon declaring his love for Bella, she strikes him a blow to the face which wounds him only so far as his pride, but leaves her with an injury to her hand that is tended to by Dr. Cullen (who is addressed as “Doctor” but, it seems, will also do the work of a surgeon when need be). Afterward, Bella is reproached by one of Edward’s sisters, Miss Rosalie for wishing to submit herself to Affliction, as she had this gross Malady imposed upon her most unwillingly, and laments the loss of a more conventional, mortal existence where one might have children and die.

Bella and her young friends now come to the end of their schooling, and at the ceremony which marks their all being out, one of Bella’s young friends gives a charming speech, instructing them to go forth into the world and to fall into error and to be as foolish as they like, assuring them that there will always be time for prudence and sense much later. In honour of their all now being out, the Cullens host a lively ball, but the revelry is interrupted by the news that the flame-haired villainess Victoria and her army of newly Afflicted (who are called Newborns, though all of them are quite grown save for one or two who might not yet be sixteen) have come to slay Bella, and so a scheme must be fixed upon for preserving Bella from harm and for preparing the Afflicted and the Wolves to band together, as the Newly Afflicted are greater in strength and numbers than the Cullens alone.

(Meanwhile, the Councillors of the prior episode, The Twilight Saga Part II The New Moon arrive in a state of great Agitation as it seems that both the Cullens and the Newborn Afflicted have broke the ancient pact not to call attention to themselves and thus cast Opprobrium upon their like, which is a cause for censure and even a sentence of irrevocable Death, which is not to be confused with that other state of everlasting Affliction).

On the eve of battle, Edward directs that Bella shall go to a place of safety upon a mountaintop, and they come away in such a hurry that they have nothing to safeguard them from the cold, and, caught up in a great snowstorm, they are left without any greatcoats or blankets, nor so much as a shawl. As the temperature of Edward and all of the Afflicted is many degrees below than it had been prior to the onset of their Malady, Jacob is summoned (as all who Were Wolves go about in a state of chronic fever) and so he has only to sit beside the sleeping Bella, to keep her from catching a chill. Her repose gives Edward and Jacob an opportunity to effect something of an accord, despite the conviction of each that they offer Bella a happier future than the other.

There is a dreadful battle wherein the Afflicted and the Wolves fight as one against the Newborns and there is a great loss of blood and tearing of limbs and general disarray until at last the Newly Ailing are conquered, but for the flame-haired Victoria who sets upon Edward. He is saved from certain death by Bella, who wounds herself in order to have her blood draw Victoria’s base appetites toward herself, which gives Edward the Opportunity to dispatch the villainess. (It was something on the order of the ruffians and Lady Blanche and St. Foix in Udolpho, yet while playlets may stir the blood, to stir the imagination, I should infinitely prefer a book).

The chapter ends with the demise of everyone who ought to be dead and a few innocents as well, and with Jacob lying abed in great pain from injuries inflicted in battle. He tells Bella that he will always love her but, as she has resolved upon marrying Edward, he no longer wishes to see her, and leaving him upon his sickbed, Bella and Edward set out to ask her father’s consent to their marriage.

Your affectionate sister,

Etc, etc

PS – I had erred in thinking that three Parts must be sufficient to accomplish the tale – to continue on shows a want of something – sense or feeling – but, alas, it seems I can speak only for myself.

JA

April 5

London

My dear Cassandra,

Henry and I had no sooner got settled than Mr. Plumptre sent ‘round a note that he had secured a Box for the second Chapter in the series of Playlets, of which the first was Twilight. I confess that I was curious to see how the Romance of Bella Swan and Edward Cullen would fare, as the last Chapter, which concluded with a declaration of Mutual Affection, did nothing to address the Impediment of Edward’s gross Affliction. The second Volume of this Playlet was put up under a different Title – New Moon – but the principle players were all carried over, and it was all set in the same cheerless village of Forks, save for a jaunt to Italy just at the last.

The New Moon Playlet began with the approach of Bella’s eighteenth birthday, which brings on a Plague of troublesome Dreams. The meaning of these Visions is made clear upon the presentation of gifts from her father and mother (whose gift was sent from the distant country where she continued to live with the Cricket Player of great renown) – a Device for capturing images and a Book to collect them all together for viewing in years hence. These presents cause Bella to reflect upon a peculiarity of Edward’s Malady, which – other than his excessive Pallor, and partiality for night and shade, and difficulty in speaking above a whisper, and feasting upon the Blood of wild animals but eating scarce anything else – prevents him from growing old in the normal fashion, so that Edward, not yet twenty, would always remain so while Bella would suffer the natural Advancement of the years. Bella laments that if Edward will persist in his refusal to pass his Malady on to her, there would come be to so great a disparity in Age, as must bring an end to his affection.

Edward, in an effort to make her understand the grave Consequences of her Ambition, relates some history of the Afflicted – how they must hold themselves apart from Society and go about with an attire and countenance akin to Mourning, and submit to the strict and unforgiving Authority of Royal Councillors. These Councillors are charged with finding Employment for any Sufferers who may have a particular Aptitude, as a facility for reading Thoughts or anticipating future Events, and with ensuring that the Afflicted will never cast Opprobrium upon their fellow Sufferers by making themselves a Spectacle, an breach that will result in the Offender’s violent death.

Bella’s eagerness to become one of the Afflicted, and Edward’s determination the she shall not be, puts them at variance, but it seems near to being smoothed over when Edward’s family hosts a party in honour of Bella’s birthday – until an act of Misbehaviour results in an injury to Bella and stirs up the Cullens’ Appetites for her blood, which they must exert to repress. As Doctor Cullen dresses her wound, Bella declares her eagerness to share in their Affliction, so that she will not lose Edward’s love by growing older while he remains young. Doctor Cullen replies that it is a Belief among the Afflicted that a Consequence of their Malady is Eternal Damnation, which may explain Edward’s reluctance to have her share in their Plight, and yet Bella is willing to suffer even Eternal Damnation if it might be united with Eternal Youth.

Edward’s family, however, believe that she cannot know her own mind, and so resolve upon departing from Forks where Bella must always put them at risk of succumbing to their Appetites, and so draw them into a Spectacle that will excite the wrath of the Royal Councillors. Despite Bella’s pleadings, Edward can only reproach himself for not being more guarded, and for raising Expectations that – considering their difference in Circumstance and their Natures which are so decidedly at variance – could never be fulfilled, and with a caution against heedlessness and risk – as he can no longer be her Protector – he leaves her with every wish for her Health and Happiness.

Bella is thrown into such despair that she wanders into the woods without knowing what direction, and at last falls into a Swoon, while her father and friends, distressed by her prolonged absence, set out to find her. At last she is discovered by a young man named Sam, who had been so eager to be one of the Searchers that he did not even pause to don his Shirt.

For many months after Edward’s departure, Bella indulges in Recollections of the Past and laments the Present, until her father’s suggestion that she return to her mother and the Cricket Player compels her to make a show of good cheer, and to attempt at something like Diversion with one of her friends.  In the course of an excursion, they spy a group of ill-mannered young men who course about on peculiar two-wheeled Vehicles in a wild fashion and quiz any young ladies who happen by. Bella recalls an episode when she had been saved by Edward from a similar band of Ruffians, and – struck with the desire to defy Edward’s parting Caution and throw herself at Risk – she consents to course about with one of the ruffians. This exploit brings about such an intense Agitation that it calls up Edward’s likeness in her Imagination, and Bella decides that if she can devise some method of stirring up that state of Agitation, she might once more call up the image of Edward.

Reluctant to trust herself to the Ruffians, she decides to course about in a Vehicle of her own, but without means to purchase one, she collects bits and pieces of discarded Vehicles, and persuades her friend Jacob Black to make them whole. In the course of this Project, their friendship deepens, and Jacob begins to feel great Affection for Bella; as for Bella, while her love for Edward does not lessen, Jacob’s affability and good cheer drive off her state of unrelieved Despair.

One afternoon, when travelling a mountainous road, Bella and Jacob spy three of his friends frolicking shirtless upon a Precipice. The leader of this group was the very Sam who had carried Bella from the woods, and to Bella’s horror, he goads some of the young men to cast another from the cliff and into the Sea. Bella is astonished by such a display of Imprudence and Incivility (despite her own schemes to submit herself to Risks and Perils), but Jacob assures Bella that this is often done in Sport by his ancient people, and that among them it is a form of Diversion to fling themselves and each other into the sea. Yet, even while reassuring Bella, Jacob expresses dismay at how far his shirtless friends will submit to Sam’s authority, and how often they have encouraged him to throw in his lot with them, and how determined he is to resist their influence. Despite these assurances, Jacob’s cheerfulness sinks into sullenness and aggression, and he drops his acquaintance with Bella entirely. Determined to seek out the reason for Jacob’s coldness, Bella finds that he has shorn his hair and taken to walking about shirtless, and understands that he has thrown in his lot with Sam.

Ill words are exchanged between them and Bella departs, and in the course of making her way to a Clearing where she might indulge once more in recollections of Edward, she is spied by the vagrant Moor who had come upon her in the prior Playlet in the company of the red-haired Tramper and the vicious James. The Moor tells Bella that the red-haired woman, Victoria, means to retaliate upon Bella for the violent death of James, and to dispatch her in an equally gruesome fashion. The Moor – who is also one of the Afflicted, but who has not tempered his Appetites as have the Cullens – offers to slay Bella quickly and so spare her from falling victim to Victoria, but before he can carry out his object, a great black Wolf leaps from the brush, followed by several more Wolves, and drive off the Moor.

Jacob attempts to make some rapprochement with Bella, but she cannot conceal her annoyance at his throwing in his lot with Sam, and she and goes so far as to rebuke one of his companions, striking him full in the face, whereupon the young man transforms himself into a great Wolf. Bella cries out for Jacob to save himself from the Beast, whereupon Jacob makes himself into a Wolf and after a great deal of all of them tussling about as Wolves, they return to human form and go to visit a young lady called Emily, betrothed to Sam, who treats them all to little cakes which they call muffin. The lady’s face bears the scars of ill use, the result of some innocent provocation which induced Sam to make himself into a Wolf in the course of their dispute. It seems that Sam and his shirtless young disciples are of a particular class of people whose response to any provocation is to make themselves into Wolves, and those nearest them will often feel the effects of it. Emily expresses sympathy for Bella, as they have both come to love young men with Imperfections which must put a great strain upon a Romance.

Attempting once more to call up the image of Edward with an act of Imprudence, Bella throws herself off the Precipice into the sea. She is rendered unconscious and rescued by Jacob who returns her to her home, where Edward’s sister, Alice, is waiting. Alice, it seems, has been gifted with a limited amount foresight, just enough to call up an image of Bella’s plunge into the sea but not enough to make out her rescue, and while very happy to learn that Bella is not dead, Alice laments that her error has sent Edward into such despair that he means to present himself before the Royal Councillors and petition them to kill him in so permanent a manner as to ensure him not coming to life again. All Clairvoyance and other means of spirit Communication having broken down, Bella and Alice have no choice but to set out to rescue Edward, which has them making a very rapid Journey from the Village of Forks to someplace in Italy where, it seems, red Cloaks are all the Fashion.

As Edward’s appeal to the Councillors is rejected, as they might find some Use for his particular gifts in the future, he resolves to make such a Spectacle of himself before the Red-Cloaks so as to ensure a sentence of death. As he is in the course of removing his Shirt – it seems that for every Four gentleman in this Playlet, there are only shirts enough for Two – Bella appears on the scene, and the two Lovers make a declaration of their mutual Devotion and the reluctance of either to be entirely dead while the one of them is still living in some manner or other.

They are taken by the Councillors and there is a great Battle, leaving Edward at the point of death until Bella offers to exchange her life for his. The Councillors are taken aback at this declaration, as a prior attempt to peruse her Thoughts had shewn nothing at all inside her head, and so they presumed her to be as void of a Mind as they are of Soul. A Reprieve is given to all of them on the Condition that Bella will be given her wish to be Afflicted at some point in the future.

Upon their return to Forks, a reconciliation is effected between Edward and Bella, and he confesses that he had deserted her only out of a fervent wish that she might enjoy a normal Life, and vows that he will not leave her Normal again. Bella then petitions once more for Edward to inflict his Malady upon her. He asks her to wait for five years and when she objects, he reduces the term to three years. Bella furthermore insists that she will receive the Contagion from no one but Edward, and he consents on the condition that she will marry him.

Here, it left off once more and it seems that there is at least one more Playlet to be got through before anything is resolved. Though I imagine they will keep the same Players, unless, for all the wet and the cold and the want of enough warm shirts to go round some of them are taken ill.

Yours, etc,

JA

My dear Cassandra,

We had not finished our breakfast when Henry’s friend Mr Plumptre appeared to say that he had secured passes to a very new kind of Entertainment called a Moving Picture, a sort of Playlet whereby the images of the performers are thrown upon a great sheet hung above the Stage. These Playlets are quite short – no more than two hours – and all carried out in a single act with no break, which allows for many performances each day.

I confess that the Story confused me exceedingly as a great deal of Plot was crammed into the two hours, but I will recount it as far as my paper and ink will oblige.

The name of this Playlet was Twilight and Heroine of the tale was Miss Isabella Swan, or Bella, as she would have everyone call her. It seems that some time in the past, Bella’s mother, Mrs Charles Swan abandoned her family and threw in her lot with a Cricket Player of great renown. Mr Charles Swan, having little confidence in his ability to raise a daughter, allowed the girl to continue with her mother, while he remained in his native village of Forks, where he had long been charged with keeping the Peace and resolving matters of Law.

When Bella reached her seventeenth year, her mother and the Cricket Player (whom she married as Mr Charles Swan had no difficulty in obtaining a divorce) wished to attend some Cricket Matches to be held very far from their home, and their scheme was to have Bella accompany them, but she, having no interest in Cricket, petitioned to return to her father and to Forks.

The village of Forks was set near to a coarse and rocky Coast, among great Woods and Fens, and was so beset with clouds and rain, as to impart an unhealthful caste upon the villagers. Many of the younger set were quite thin and wan, and yet, they appeared cheerful and content with themselves and eager to make Bella feel at home among them.

Mr Swan, intending to promote wholesome and healthful pursuits for his daughter, made her a gift of a Chariot. This Chariot (a curious Vehicle with no clew as to how it propelled itself with no horses!) was purchased from the descendant of one of the country’s most ancient families. This gentleman, having long been subjected to the insalubrious Climate of Forks was quite infirm and deprived of the use of his lower limbs. Yet this affliction did not dampen his spirits – indeed, he was full of noisy good cheer. This man had one son, Jacob, a fine-looking lad, who was as robust as his father was frail, and who wore his hair in a very long fashion, which, it seems, was a family custom.

Bella was enrolled in the village School where young ladies and gentlemen were educated together in everything. At physical activities, Bella did not fare well (as a natural awkwardness rendered her unfit for anything requiring quickness or skill), but happily she was of that class of Females whose awkwardnesses were as good as graces.

One afternoon, sitting with her friends in the school’s dining hall, Bella spied a young man who, she was told, was Edward Cullen one of many adopted children of the local Physician. Nature had given young Edward his share of good looks and yet he was so very pale and wasted-looking as to suggest a chronic infirmity. Moreover, he was of a reserved and melancholy disposition, keeping entirely to his family circle, and addressing no one else. When he happened to be placed next to Bella in a lecture of Natural Science (as young ladies were encouraged to be scientific at this particular academy) he regarded her with coldness and silence and this conduct, so unlike the ease and informality of the other young people, left Bella with the opposing sensations of curiosity and indignation.

In time, however, Edward made one or two attempts at conversation, addressing the Climate and asking whether Bella was very much put off by the quantity of rain until Bella understood that he was not proud, but only very shy and unused to conversation with anyone beyond his immediate family.

Still, their acquaintance might not have progressed had not Edward occasion to save Bella from certain disaster when a Chariot, coursing at great speed, raced in her direction. Edward flew to her rescue and – with a remarkable display of strength – held off the Chariot until Bella could be removed to safety. Though uninjured, it was thought necessary for Bella to be attended by a Physician, which gave her opportunity to meet Doctor Cullen, a kindly gentleman, but one whose pallor was so extreme that it was difficult to imagine, looking so ill himself, that he could coax anyone else into health and vigor.

Bella now had time to reflect upon Edward’s display of inhuman speed and strength, but when she demanded an explanation, he rebuffed her so coldly that all intercourse between them seemed now at an end.

(Bye the bye, not long after these events, Bella was to learn of an ancient Feud between the families of Jacob and Edward.)

In the community of Forks, the point at which a young lady might be said to be ‘out’ was in her seventeenth year or thereabouts, whereupon they were brought into Society all together at a Great Promenade, which the young people referred to as The Prom.  At The Prom, young ladies and their escorts dress in their finest attire and attend a Great Ball, where they have their likenesses done, and partake of refreshments and then there is Dancing.

There were no mantua makers in Forks, so young ladies traveled to a near-by village to purchase their attire ready-made! Bella left her friends to chuse their Dresses and made her way to a bookseller to purchase an ancient volume which might provide an explanation of Edward’s curious History. While returning to her friends, Bella was set upon by several inebriated young men who would surely have done her mischief had not Edward appeared and driven off the ruffians. This mysterious display of prescience added to the puzzle of Edward’s excessive pallor, his extraordinary strength and other peculiarities, such as his sleeplessness and spare diet.

Edward, wishing to unburden himself, confessed to Bella that he and all his family were long afflicted with an incurable Malady, and to make her better understand it, he carried her above the crest of the wood to the point where the sun broke through the clouds. The sunlight raised great radiant blisters upon Edward’s skin, and from this and his strange fits of passion and dyspepsia and sleeplessness, I inferred that his Malady was the same which was said to have beset His Majesty, our beloved King George, though Bella called it by a peculiar name. Her expressions of tenderness and compassion reassured him that his affection for her – despite his declaration that he had killed a great number of People, and, in fact, had wished to kill Miss Swan herself upon their first introduction – was enthusiastically reciprocated. An invitation to know his family better, to dine with them (though their chronic dyspepsia kept them from eating scarcely anything at all) and to join them in a family game of Cricket was offered, and Mr. Swan – delighted to see that his daughter had not been kept back from companionship and amusements by his preoccupation with the matter of some villagers who had been savaged by Wild Beasts – made no objection to her going.

The Cullens all displayed a superior agility and speed at the game of Cricket, which gave Bella the hope that, despite their dyspepsia and pallor and chronic infirmity, they might one day rally against the ravages of their Affliction.

Their spirited match was interrupted when three blowsy-looking and unshod Trampers, who had made great mischief in Forks, (and who were in fact responsible for the acts of savagery attributed to Wild Beasts), set upon the players. Two of these Vagrants were young men, one a Moor and the other appeared to be English, and the third was a young lady who gave every appearance of Irish lineage. The Englishman, James, was immediately possessed of a great passion for Bella, which put the Cullens and the Trampers at variance, and ended in the Vagabonds being driven off. The Cullens insisted upon removing Bella from the neighborhood, and from the peril of James’s wickedness and ignoble desires. The clever Vagabond, however, contrived to lure Bella away from the protection of her friends and used her very ill and indeed, she might have been killed had not Edward arrived and called out the villain. With all the Cullens acting as his seconds, and none to stand for James (his companions having abandoned him), the Duel was quickly finished and James was dispatched in a violent manner. It was discovered that James had poisoned Bella and there was nothing to be done to save her but for Edward to draw out the venom with his lips, putting her at great risk of inflicting his contagion upon her. Bella was then conveyed to bed to recover from her injuries, which were a great loss of blood and a fracture of one of her limbs.

Despite her injuries, Bella was able to attend The Prom with Edward though obliged to wear a great splint upon her injured limb, which, while cumbersome, could not render her unfit for Dancing. When they were able to draw away from the company and enjoy a few minutes of uninterrupted discourse, Bella expressed a genuine dismay that Edward had been so skillful in extracting the Poison from her that she had not suffered any Infection, and thereby been deprived of sharing in his Affliction. She pressed him to inflict his Malady upon her, but Edward firmly refused, insisting that he could not consign her with so grave and irreversible a state and still be thought a gentleman.  It was upon this note that the Playlet ended, and when I remarked upon the abruptness of it, Mr Plumptre informed me that it was only the First Part of the Playlet and that in the coming months there will be subsequent new performances that are called Sequels which will continue on with further episodes of Bella, the Cullens, etc etc

For my own part, I can see no advantage to irritate an audience by giving them only a portion of the Work or suspend their interest and pleasure. I am certain that no one could like P&P half so much if they got to the end only to find that they had put down their money and only got half a tale!

Yours very affec.

J. Austen