After watching the movie, The Jane Austen Book Club, which followed several couples whose stories mirrored those in Austen’s books, I decided to reread Sense and Sensibility. While plowing through the incredibly long and obtuse introduction to the book, I couldn’t help wondering what Jane would think of it. Did she really mean to say all the things the author of the introduction said Jane meant to say? How would Jane feel if she found out that kids were studying her book in school and adults were studying it in book clubs? Did she mean her books to be studied? Or did she mean for them to be read?
On the off chance of Daughter Am I ever being taught in schools, I’ll tell you right now what I meant. I meant for people to enjoy the story of Mary’s quest to discover who killed her grandparents. I meant for people to be taken away from their mundane lives for a few hours. I meant for people to read themselves to sleep and wake up thinking about Mary’s journey and perhaps smile at the antics of the aged gangsters who accompany her. And after all that, if I get anyone to wonder about the truth of the stories my gangsters tell, so much the better.
Although I pepper my novels with little known or controversial truths, I stay away from obvious messages in my novels, such as political agendas, religious beliefs, and current issues, yet it’s almost impossible to completely delete messages from a story. Even the frothiest romance has a message, a theme: love wins out in the end, or love conquers all.
The unifying theme in all of my books is the perennial question: Who are we? More Deaths Than One suggests that we are our memories. A Spark of Heavenly suggests that we are the sum total of our experiences and choices. Daughter Am I suggests we are our heritage. But you don’t really need to know this theme. It was more for me, a way to keep me focused on my stories.
Because that is what I write. Stories. Not books to be studied, but stories to be read.
Daughter Am I is Pat Bertram’s third novel to be published by Second Wind Publishing, LLC. Also available are More Deaths Than One and A Spark of Heavenly Fire.


12 Comments
November 15, 2009 at 3:09 pm
What did you think of the film, The Jane Austen Book Club? I watched it because I adore Emily Blunt, but I had to walk out of the theatre…too cheesy for me.
November 15, 2009 at 3:35 pm
I watched it at home, so I couldn’t walk out, but I didn’t turn it off either. I liked it from the standpoint of all those disparate people coming together for the discussions, and how the discussion mirrored and affected each other’s lives. It took me a long time to get into the movie, though.
November 15, 2009 at 4:19 pm
Hey, Pat. Just me. Interesting to think what about my own fiction would wind up being an English paper… Yikes. Maybe not interesting at all…
I’ve posted about this at Win a Book. Of course. *grin*
November 15, 2009 at 4:51 pm
I’ve never been good at finding the “right” meaning in stories. In college I got a failing grade when I had to analyze a Kafka story. I also did badly analyzing films in my film theory class. To me, art should be for the viewer or the reader or the audience to enjoy and understand the way they want to. Sometimes the artist is very blatant and no one will miss the message but often the work is designed to be an individual experience.
It’s not only writing that gets so much analysis.
“Studies” drove me insane in art history classes as well. Friends of mine that went to the Art Institute of Chicago were actually schooled on how to make up stuff in case a gallery owner or critic asked them questions. They’d sit and dream up lots of BS in case they had to use it.
I suppose that researchers have their place and can be informative but I hope people try to make their own sense of things before reading the research.
November 15, 2009 at 8:28 pm
Teachers always used to ask “What do you think the author is saying?” You’d answer, and they’d say, “Wrong!” How can an opinion be wrong? It’s an opinion.
I wonder how many experts who spout that nonsense really believe what they are saying, or if they are doing what your friends do, make something up that sounds so good people start believing it.
November 15, 2009 at 5:50 pm
I love the thought of Jane Austen spinning in her grave, going, “Jeez louise, I was just trying to tell a story, okay? ENTERTAINMENT!”
November 15, 2009 at 5:58 pm
It makes me smile to think that some of these artists would appreciate or be pleasantly surprised that readers connect with the themes, storylines, and characters in ways that the artists didn’t think was possible or intentional.
November 15, 2009 at 8:32 pm
If, in fact, Jane was trying to spoof the mores of her day, I wonder what she would think of the regency romances written today? Many of them make Jane’s spoof seem like a serious study.
November 15, 2009 at 8:56 pm
I’m afraid I got in trouble more often in English class than anywhere else because I didn’t think the authors were saying what the teachers said they were saying.
What they said was in the book. What the teacher said wasn’t in the book. That seemed so obvious to me, but I got a D- for pointing it out.
You’ve done future students a service. When Dr. Angst says, “‘Daughter Am I’ is an example of the torn Freudian slip complex,” students can print out this post and say, “no way, Jose.”
Malcolm
November 16, 2009 at 12:32 pm
I kept my contentiousness to myself, but still, I never got what I supposed to get out of the book. I did have fun making stuff up, though, and apparently the teachers bought it, because I got good grades.
I hope future students will appreciate my efforts on their behalf.
November 16, 2009 at 2:31 pm
It always seemed odd when I saw my sons take tests that didn’t just ask “What did the author mean?” but gave them multiple choice answers to choose from. My oldest became quite adept at knowing what the teacher, or examiner, was likely to think the author meant. My youngest was adept at saying his opinion was as good as anyone else’s – youngest now wants to be an author and mean whatever he chooses to mean by it.
November 16, 2009 at 3:51 pm
Isn’t it interesting how kids react differently to the same test questions? Neither way is wrong. And both of your sons sound bright.