and it is Pride and Prejudice. I read all day Saturday and Sunday. And I finished it. And now I'm sad because all books pale in comparison. I'm reading one, Sleep, Pale Sister, but I hear Lizzy and Mr. Darcy beckoning me back to Pemberley. Sigh. I'm lovesick. I can't get into another book. I want to reread P&P (and will probably have to before it's all over with). I have already watched the Pride & Prejudice with Keira Knightley, which I adored. Keira is so lovely. And Matthew whatshisname was great as Darcy. And not too bad on the eyes either I am positively DYING to see the one with Colin Firth, so much so that I will submit to the temptation to drive all the way to Target (all of 10 minutes haha) on my lunch hour, praying that they have it.
I find it especially amazing that, in a day and age when nothing is shocking anymore, that the slight, deft hand Austen uses to seduce the reader is SO effective. This book was SO romantic and none of the typical tricks writers use today where there. No nudity. No kissing. But God Almighty was it sexual charged. The looks. The brief glances. The small touches. Ye gods it sets you on fire! Oh how I wish I wish that there was someone, anyone, who lived near me and shared my readerly obsessions. I want to read this with someone. I want to watch the movies with someone. I want to dissect it into the ground and tear it apart limb from limb and then put it all back together again with someone. Oh how I miss college. WHY oh WHY did none of my teachers make me read this in school????
Sigh. I guess I'll read it again and again and love it alone.