Alert Janeite A. Marie sent us a link to a recipe for corn salad at Salon that “is good enough for Mr. Darcy.” Well, one presumes that his two or three French cooks at least could produce a tolerable corn salad.
More than anything else in the store, I lusted after the luxury picnic baskets With wine glasses, porcelain dishes, cutlery, and matching linens and blanket, all secured to the basket by leather straps, the hampers evoked Jane Austen romances. I envisioned myself dressed in an empire-waist gown, serving from containers of corn salad and cold chicken.
Alas even in my fantasies, no guy knew looked good in a Regency style cravat.
That’s what you think, sister. But mmmm, corn salad.
IT’S STILL ALIVE! P&P&Zombies is now a game for the iPhone. If anyone wants to buy and review it for the blog, we would love to read it.
Back here again, are we? Complaining about the tea-sipping, cat-stroking, uptight purist spinsters who love Jane Austen not wisely but too well. We’ve read it all too many times before.
For a writer who drew much of her gift from a cold heart and alarming acerbity, her devotees’ admiration is not only mawkish but missplaced.
Just because a writer can observe her characters disinterestedly does not mean she does not have a warm heart.
By all means revel in Austen for her literary excellence, but please release the author herself from being pawed and drooled over like a puppy, and claimed as queen of the book group brigade as if she were the kind of benign friend who’d suffer watching an iPod’s worth of baby photos without a murmur of complaint.
For a friend, we have no doubt she would do this (and then laugh about it with Cassandra and Martha in private). Enough with the extremes, please.
This is an AustenBlog DIY post, so please feel free to add your own Austen-related links in comments.