​I am interrupting my examination of the works of Eliza Kirkham Mathews, for which I interrupted my examination of the authorship of The Woman of Colour, to clutch my pearls so hard that my knuckles whiten over a recent headline in the British newspaper The Telegraph. ‘Don’t change books to be more PC--that’s like cutting Jane Austen’s buggery joke.”
   In this article, Paula Byrne, an eminent and telegenic Austen scholar, once again asserts that Mary Crawford’s dinner-party quip about “rears and vices” in Mansfield Park is a pun about sodomy. She, and millions of other Austen fans, evidently take enormous pleasure in repeating this. In fact, I have the impression that it is now received wisdom. So by protesting, I mark myself as a pedantic killjoy, and I’m throwing myself open to accusations of being a homophobic prude. Even if I’m right, a lot of people want to believe it anyway. It’s a prime exhibit in the gallery that proves Jane Austen was a rule-breaker, a gal after our own hearts and our own enlightened principles.
   Despite knowing how invested so many of my fellow Janeites are in this ribald notion, I am going to reiterate why I think it just can’t be true...

​​     Many of Jane Austen’s devoted readers feel surprise and consternation over the passages in Persuasion about "troublesome, hopeless" Dick, the deceased son of the Musgrove family, along with the mocking depiction of his sorrowful mother. Austen doesn’t pull her punches in describing Dick as “stupid and unmanageable" and as someone who "had been very little cared for at any time by his family, though quite as much as he deserved.” His death far from home was “scarcely at all regretted.”
​   Some scholars have surmised that, had Austen not been in the throes of her final illness, she would have revised her callous descriptions or excised them altogether. Others have speculated about why Austen inserted these harsh passages in a novel famous for its gentle heroine and its wistful tone.
   Could it be that these strongly-worded passages hint at something Austen felt strongly about? Her seemingly out-of-place attack on the Musgroves is intended to catch the reader’s attention, to provoke them to pause and probe beyond the liminal space of the Musgrove's drawing room and to confront the costs of empire which supports their way of life. Indeed, we were mistaken in taking these passages at face value.
​    Dick Musgrove may well have been a satiric, inverted portrait of a real-life Richard who served in the Navy—Richard Parker, infamous in Austen’s time but forgotten today.

       So where are you in your journey from Austen fan to Austen superfan? Have you worked out the Austen family tree? Do you smile politely when someone quotes Austen's "little bit of ivory" at you, because you've already heard or read it a hundred times? Have you read any or all of the novels mentioned in Northanger Abbey? Did you know that "Lover's Vows," the play performed by the young people in Mansfield Park, was a real play?
      In my opinion, Jane Austen's Bookshelf by Rebecca Romney is geared toward people who are not far along in their Austen journey, but are ready and eager to learn more. On the other hand, well-informed Janeites might find that it covers familiar territory, while others might be bemused by the proposition that Maria Edgeworth and Frances Burney are forgotten writers whose connection to Austen was waiting to be rediscovered.
    I don't mean that as a criticism of a well-written and deeply researched book, which this is. For someone wanting to learn more about Austen and her literary world, Jane Austen's Bookshelf is packed with revelations for the reader (I'll get back to that later) and a valuable guidebook to the literature of her time.   

   In the previous three posts, I gave a synopsis of the satirical novel Rosella, or, Modern Occurrences, by Mary Charlton. This novel is not so well-known as other novels of the same type, such as The Female Quixote or The Heroine.
   If you're familiar with the modern academy, you won't be surprised to know that scholars are mostly interested in the question of whether Rosella's author Mary Charlton has feminist leanings or not. Natalie Neill devotes much of her introductory essay on Rosella to examining the apparently conflicting messages: “Although Rosella can be read as a conservative satire, there are tensions in the text that complicate such a reading…. Further complicating our understanding of Rosella is the way that it opens itself to feminist counter readings…”
   I think Charlton, like other authors of the period, mocks and criticizes human foibles on both sides of any question. As did Austen. Consider that Austen satirizes the vain Sir Walter Elliott but also skewers his toad-eating attorney Mr. Shepherd and Mr. Shepherd’s ambitious-social-climbing daughter, Mrs. Clay. So, which side is she on--is she with Jacobins who want to overthrow the aristocracy or is she an Anti-Jacobin who believes people should stay in the social class they were born into? I think she’s laughing at both sides. Likewise, Lydia Bennet is ignorant and has no education, Mary Bennet is a pedant and uses her education to be tiresome, while Elizabeth is the happy medium between the two.