It’s that time of year again. Flight costs are up, schools are out, and anyone lucky enough to afford a break is heading – literally or metaphorically – for the hills. Some might harbour visions of a beautiful stranger alone in a beach or bar, someone who takes a keen interest in them, gives them the best two weeks of their lives then disappears into the sunset. This is probably what most of us imagine when we think of a holiday romance: something magical and fleeting, but removed from everyday life.
One writer, however, proved in novel after novel that a change of scene can also inspire a lasting change of mind. It might shake the blinkered out of an unhelpful way of seeing the world, or reveal hidden depths in overlooked friends and acquaintances. It can take people away from those who do not appreciate them, and introduce them into new communities in which they thrive.
Jane Austen’s heroines are a nomadic bunch, by and large. The author is known for psychological development, but the emotional and educational progress of her romantic plot lines is almost always kick-started by a series of more literal journeys. Movements between home, “seasons” in the city and prolonged visits to family and friends map out narrative progress towards love.
Following the footsteps of one Austen protagonist, Anne Elliot of Persuasion (1817), reveals how the different narrative locations she inhabits present different opportunities for her to grow in confidence and reclaim a love that she thought lost forever. At the same time, they also enable Frederick Wentworth, her erstwhile fiancé, to reconsider his false assumptions about her and see her in a more truthful (not to mention more flattering) light.
It’s something I explore in my soon-to-be-published book, Love and Landscape: Iconic Meeting Places in Classic and Contemporary Literature.
This article is part of a series commemorating the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth. Despite having published only six books, she is one of the best-known authors in history. These articles explore the legacy and life of this incredible writer.
When we meet Anne at the beginning of Persuasion, she clearly needs to get out more. She is 26 and unmarried, having been convinced at 19 by her snobbish family to end her engagement to Wentworth.
Now, she is unloved and overlooked by her father and elder sister Elizabeth and, when her family’s profligate spending means they must rent out their home and seek cheaper accommodation, it is a blessing in disguise for Anne.
She goes first to visit her other, married sister in the Somerset village of Uppercross. Mary is as self-centred as Elizabeth and their father, but does at least love and appreciate Anne. Mary’s sisters-in-law, Louisa and Henrietta Musgrove, live nearby with their parents and are fond of her too. Crucially, this kinder branch of Anne’s family is also connected to the now-Captain Wentworth, who has made a good career for himself in the Napoleonic wars and is warmly welcomed into their circle.
Anne’s first move having brought her into better company, she then makes a second journey, with this group, to the coastal town of Lyme Regis. Here, the fresh sea air restores her faded youth, and Wentworth is gratifyingly present when a passing stranger looks at her “with a degree of earnest admiration”.
Anne however is more than a pretty face, and her stay at Lyme also allows her to show off her pragmatism and good judgment when Louisa is knocked unconscious by a bad fall. Wentworth, who blames himself for the accident, benefits directly from Anne’s taking charge of the situation.
Their last move, to Bath, shows the nascent couple carving out small opportunities for intimacy among crowded ballrooms and claustrophobic family gatherings.
When they are finally able confirm their mutual affection, they engineer a retreat to a gravel walk which is only “comparatively quiet and retired”, and count on their fellow walkers being too wrapped up in their own business to pay them much attention.
In Northanger Abbey (1817), Austen’s most satirical novel, it is observed that “if adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad”. In Persuasion, Anne’s particular adventures bring her into a more supportive community, reinvigorate her youth and give her the chance to prove her worth.
In Austen’s footsteps
Over the past two centuries, a huge variety of writers have forged their own romantic plot lines from paths first cut by Anne Elliot, Catherine Morland of Northanger Abbey and Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice (1813).
For those whose stories feature marginalised characters, for example, the value of a sympathetic and supportive community becomes even more important. So it is that author Sarah Waters imaginatively reconstructs pockets of Victorian London in Tipping the Velvet (1998) in which queer characters are visible and able to celebrate their love. The South London barbershops and jazz clubs of Open Water (2022) offer a similar respite for Caleb Azumah Nelson’s young Black lovers, who crave spaces in which they can be themselves away from the prejudices and false assumptions of mainstream society.
Jane Austen’s novels perform a kind of romantic alchemy in which travel is the catalyst. From Lyme to Bath, Hertfordshire to the Peak District, her protagonists move through a holiday atmosphere, but the transformations they undergo along the way are anything but fleeting. There might be a depressing uniformity in marriage as the inevitable, final destination, but we are left in no doubt that these marriages – like Austen’s legacy – are built to last.
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Barbara Cooke does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
