Austen: I’d like to tell her to get lost!

Reporter: Ges on the Box, by Geladine Dutto
Date published: 10 September 2008


THERE are two things, in my experience, that you should never do to a teenager.

The first is embarrass him/her in front of his/her peers. The second is to give them a classic to study. It almost guarantees a lifelong abhorrence for anything even remotely considered good reading.

And I should know, having been force-fed “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” AND “Pride And Prejudice” for my O-level. Which, incidentally, I passed with an A, although to this day I couldn’t tell you the storyline of either work.

The very mention of the two words Jane and Austen in the same sentence brings me out in a rash. Those who know rate her sense of humour. Those forced to study her, see nothing even remotely funny.

When I opened my copy of said book on my first day in the fifth form and read those side-achingly funny words: “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. . .” I knew I was in for a long school term.

Irony being lost on most teenagers, all that’s left is an early 19th century version of a Mills and Boon: girl likes man, man likes other girl, enter self-centred but handsome (and rich) second man-with-a past, add a bit of misunderstanding, a lot of breast-beating, a life-threatening illness and Bob’s your uncle: Happy Ever After.

Since 1968, not a single page of Austen has wasted my time. Indeed, apart from watching half of Bollywood remake “Bride and Prejudice”, I’ve also managed to avoid any and all costume dramas.

So how did I come to find myself watching — nay, glued to — the first episode of “Lost in Austen” (ITV 9pm)?

First the critics panned it. And secondly, there wasn’t much else on.

More than 200 channels and I couldn’t find any reality show I fancied. Thank heavens. Because I loved “Lost In Austen”. Here at last we can utter humour and Jane Austen in the same breath.

It’s about a modern miss changing places through a secret bathroom door with Elizabeth Bennet, heroine of “P&P”.

It’s every bit as unlikely as it sounds and, no doubt, our 2008 heroine, Amanda Price, will wake in the final episode to discover she fell asleep over her “P&P” and it was all a dream.

Until then we’ve got more misunderstandings than you can shake a stick at — all aided and abetted by the punch-drinking, cigarette-smoking ladette from Hammersmith.

I would like to see what Regency Lizzie Bennet is making of a flat complete with television set and resident boyfriend though. . .