Faux Bath to go with Faux Henry in NA2

Alert Janeite Heather L. posted a link in comments to an article in the Telegraph stating that none of the new NA will be filmed in Bath. This makes us very sad indeed.

Much to the dismay of the burghers of Bath, the costume drama, which will feature in ITV’s Jane Austen Season next year, has been lured by the tax breaks Ireland offers television drama, which are similar to those for films and are no longer available in Britain.

Much to the dismay of Janeites as well, at least here at AustenBlog World Headquarters. We went to Bath last year for the first time and absolutely loved it. We know that Jane didn’t care for it, but she was not a city girl, so that is understandable. (Neither is the Editrix, but we like small walkable cities like Bath.) We climbed Beechen Cliff (well, part of it anyway…) and looked out on the non-picturesque view, went to Camden Place, paced the Gravel Walk, twirled in the Assembly Rooms, took the waters in the Pump Room, walked the Royal Crescent, shopped on Milsom Street, and giggled when we reached the top of the street, looked up, and saw the words “Edgar’s Buildings.” They can fake Bath, but they’ll never replace it!

We shook our head and smiled over this bit:

Janeites, as devotees of Austen like to call themselves, are notoriously protective of the author’s work. Given that Northanger Abbey is being adapted for television by Andrew Davies, they are more assured of a faithful rendering of the story.

Unless the script that we read has undergone major rewriting, we would disagree with that, especially the portrayal of Da Man. He isn’t the delightfully snarky, teasing Henry Tilney we have come to know and love, we are afraid. That being said, we hope there has been some rewriting and rethinking of the script by Mr. Davies. Despite the popular apprehension that we enjoy being negative, no one would like to see an excellently-done film version of Northanger Abbey more than the Editrix.

Have a bit of Bath-via-NA.

They passed briskly down Pulteney-street, and through Laura-place, without the exchange of many words. Thorpe talked to his horse, and she meditated, by turns, on broken promises and broken arches, phaetons and false hangings, Tilneys and trap-doors. As they entered Argyle-buildings, however, she was roused by this address from her companion, “Who is that girl who looked at you so hard as she went by?”

“Who? –where?”

“On the right-hand pavement — she must be almost out of sight now.” Catherine looked round and saw Miss Tilney leaning on her brother’s arm, walking slowly down the street. She saw them both looking back at her. “Stop, stop, Mr. Thorpe,” she impatiently cried; “it is Miss Tilney; it is indeed. — How could you tell me they were gone? — Stop, stop, I will get out this moment and go to them.” But to what purpose did she speak? — Thorpe only lashed his horse into a brisker trot; the Tilneys, who had soon ceased to look after her, were in a moment out of sight round the corner of Laura-place, and in another moment she was herself whisked into the Market-place.

A little more? All right, but then right to bed!

The Clifton scheme had been deferred, not relinquished, and on the afternoon’s Crescent of this day, it was brought forward again. . .She had left them for a few minutes to speak to Miss Tilney. In that interval the plan was completed, and as soon as she came again, her agreement was demanded; but instead of the gay acquiescence expected by Isabella, Catherine looked grave, was very sorry, but could not go.

[. . .]

Thus passed a long ten minutes, till they were again joined by Thorpe, who, coming to them with a gayer look, said, “Well, I have settled the matter, and now we may all go to-morrow with a safe conscience. I have been to Miss Tilney, and made your excuses.”

“You have not!” cried Catherine.

“I have, upon my soul. Left her this moment. Told her you had sent me to say that, having just recollected a prior engagement of going to Clifton with us to-morrow, you could not have the pleasure of walking with her till Tuesday. She said very well, Tuesday was just as convenient to her; so there is an end of all our difficulties. — A pretty good thought of mine — hey?”

Isabella’s countenance was once more all smiles and good humour, and James too looked happy again.

“A most heavenly thought indeed! Now, my sweet Catherine, all our distresses are over; you are honourably acquitted, and we shall have a most delightful party.”

“This will not do,” said Catherine; “I cannot submit to this. I must run after Miss Tilney directly and set her right.”

Isabella, however, caught hold of one hand, Thorpe of the other, and remonstrances poured in from all three. Even James was quite angry. When everything was settled, when Miss Tilney herself said that Tuesday would suit her as well, it was quite ridiculous, quite absurd, to make any further objection.

“I do not care. Mr. Thorpe had no business to invent any such message. If I had thought it right to put it off, I could have spoken to Miss Tilney myself. This is only doing it in a ruder way; and how do I know that Mr. Thorpe has — he may be mistaken again perhaps; he led me into one act of rudeness by his mistake on Friday. Let me go, Mr. Thorpe; Isabella, do not hold me.”

Thorpe told her it would be in vain to go after the Tilneys; they were turning the corner into Brock Street, when he had overtaken them, and were at home by this time.

“Then I will go after them,” said Catherine; “wherever they are I will go after them. It does not signify talking. If I could not be persuaded into doing what I thought wrong, I never will be tricked into it.” And with these words she broke away and hurried off. Thorpe would have darted after her, but Morland withheld him. “Let her go, let her go, if she will go.”

“She is as obstinate as — “

Thorpe never finished the simile, for it could hardly have been a proper one.

Away walked Catherine in great agitation, as fast as the crowd would permit her, fearful of being pursued, yet determined to persevere. As she walked, she reflected on what had passed. It was painful to her to disappoint and displease them, particularly to displease her brother; but she could not repent her resistance. Setting her own inclination apart, to have failed a second time in her engagement to Miss Tilney, to have retracted a promise voluntarily made only five minutes before, and on a false pretence too, must have been wrong. She had not been withstanding them on selfish principles alone, she had not consulted merely her own gratification; that might have been ensured in some degree by the excursion itself, by seeing Blaize Castle; no, she had attended to what was due to others, and to her own character in their opinion. Her conviction of being right, however, was not enough to restore her composure; till she had spoken to Miss Tilney she could not be at ease; and quickening her pace when she got clear of the Crescent, she almost ran over the remaining ground till she gained the top of Milsom-street. So rapid had been her movements that in spite of the Tilneys’ advantage in the outset, they were but just turning into their lodgings as she came within view of them.