Lessons from a Jane Austen inspired book

🙊▼Spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.▼

I recently finished reading an Advanced Reader Copy (ARC) of The Austen Affair and was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it. No, I didn't go into it expecting to hate it or to find it barely tolerable. When I started reading it I found myself in a gray area where I wondered if I'd like a contemporary take on the regency era where Jane Austen is involved, and looked forward to how the modern-day characters would react to life in that time period. Basically, I knew it would go either way.


It's been a few days since I finished it and posted a review for it (which you can find here) and I'm still thinking about the parts of the book that can be applied to life, that can be called "lessons" on how to grow and improve our view of what we have. In my review, I found myself raving about the characters realistic behavior, and I must say that while I don't usually like a too-realistic-that-it-becomes-annoying character, the main characters, Tess and Hugh, were okay in that aspect. Just like real people I did not love everything that they did, but their growth as fictional characters made me think of how we can continue to grow as people. Who says that we can't learn anything from rom-coms?

Navigate through grief, but don't let it control you.

Tess and Hugh are, whether I liked to admit it while I was reading the book, both sides of the same coin of grief. If such a thing exists; if not, I'm coining it. Tess is someone with grief from her mother's death, which is something that happens in her past, while Hugh holds grief for what he is aware will inevitably happen soon, which is the death of his ill father. Despite the usual behavior that has been ingrained in many of us, these characters don't ignore the grief until it goes away by itself (honestly, we know it doesn't go away, it sometimes disguises its ugly face as something else that we try to ignore until it comes running to tackle us down at Walmart while we're shopping for laundry detergent because something sparked a memory. Where are the tissues?). 
Through at least a dozen chapters filled with laughter, tears, and conversations with new friends and 200-years-removed family, the protagonists realize that grief is not the arrow that they should follow in life, because it isn't allowing them to live fully as who they are and can be. Tess sees that she can't continue aiming for what her mother would've liked to see, and Hugh accepts that he needs to use the time that he has left with his father.

What happened in the past can no longer be changed, and the future will come nonetheless, and the grief reserved for it becomes self flagellation when we allow it to guide every decision that we make. It needs to be seen and untangled, for us to live life in our own terms.

Let other women know when someone is trying to play them.

There is a scene in the book that I quite enjoyed. Tess warns another woman about a regency fuckboy man who clearly has no good intentions with anyone. He had been flirting with Tess and even put her reputation on the line by cornering her and making advances while the family was just a few rooms away. Luckily, she escapes and manages to mostly avoid him afterwards. He moves on to another young woman who has become smitten by his attentions and appears to be falling for whatever he is telling her during a lively event with music and dancing (a fuckboy's hunting grounds).

Tess holds her hand gently and tells her clearly that this man is not someone with good intentions for her nor for anyone else, and luckily the other woman admits that she was sensing a bad energy from him and hears the advice. It's such as a small part of the scene, but it filled me with joy. Tess did not like the other young woman, as she is not very kind to her younger sister, but she saw that a woman's life was at stake and intervened, because I'm sure she'd liked someone else doing that for her. I am aware that the recipient of such advice may not always take it kindly, but speaking up is what should be done, afterwards, we may only hope that they realize what we mean.

Watch what you say and whom you say it to.

It wouldn't be a regency novel without the gossiping sessions and passing gossip casually as one gets measured for a new dress. In multiple scenes, I saw how Tess just couldn't hold her mouth with a few people and manages to undo the work that she and Hugh have achieved between themselves and with other characters around them. Not only is she imprudent, but she can be careless and needy for attention, which is a horrible mix that leads to a spiral of chaos.

As a word of advice given the scenes in this book, not everything needs to be said, and if you feel like some piece of gossip is really bouncing around inside you and can no longer be held, think of who you're talking to. Some people may easily hear you and then turn around to share with others what you said in confidence, giving you some unwanted attention from those who are not your friends.

Don't let the ghost of someone dictate your life.

This point is similar to the first one except that the aspect in which grief was mentioned was in matters of death, while when I say "the ghost" of person here, it can be someone who still lives but no longer holds a space in our lives. In this case, it is the former romantic partner of Hugh that has become the ghost that haunts him and whispers in his head. Her words became constraints on him, making him self-aware of his vocabulary, behavior, and even of his posture until he cracked and couldn't recognize himself beyond what she had told him.

I loved seeing his growth and realizing that the words of his ex only have as much power as he gives them, that he is more than how she described him. Just like Hugh, releasing the weight of a ghost can allow for growth and remove the blindfold that was placed on us.

Collect the present to have it as history.

Journal! Make videos! Take pictures! Because you will want to admire your great-grandmother's face when you are in your 60s and surrounded by your own grandchildren as you tell them the story of how the behind-the-scenes of that picture. In just a few generations, the stories that we know as boring, but that shaped our homes and traditions, may be forgotten and erased from our family histories, leaving our future generations without much clue of where they came from and who their family members were.

Don't allow yourself nor your family members to become only a name and two dates in a headstone; the media you make and stories you gather now will help the future of your family know you as the person you where and what you had to say.

An rival might not become a lover, but they can become a friend.

Some people may classify The Austen Affair as an enemies-to-lovers and I can say that they are wrong (they are not enemies!). Tess and Hugh are work rivals  (that barely know each other) with lots of tension and flowering hatred that gets stronger as the scenes are filmed on set. Through banter, dialogue, and the need to survive as well as protect each other in the 1800s, they grow closer and realize that they are only humans with high walls and distorted self-perceptions because of what has been told to them by their exes or is being spread by the media. Their rivalry is exposed as tension to survive in the Hollywood scene and be taken seriously.

Tess and Hugh's relationship becomes romantic, but not all rivalries should go that way. In a world where people are struggling to survive and deal with the constant bumps of life, a friendship with a former rival can go a longer way than a romance. 

So, have you read The Austen Affair or plan on reading it?


Let's Get Physical: Ownership and Access

Last year I realized that as convenient as e-books are, there is a main problem: I don't really own them. Sure, I paid for them and they are in my device, but if you have kept up with the bookish news (or maybe it has happened to you before), you can lose access to your e-books like this. Imagine that I am snapping my fingers. 

A few years ago I bought a book on Kindle, which was recommended by the author in a Facebook group, I got halfway through the book only to be hit by academic responsibilities. When I went back a few weeks later to continue reading the book, it was as if I never even had it. When I think about that, I consider the alternative: if I had had the physical copy of the book, I could've gone back to it when I was ready and pick up right where I left off.

The thing that we (royal we, because I'm sure I'm not the only one noticing this) are seeing now is how easily non-tangible media can be erased from our devices, our apps, and from the cloud. Unfortunately, these sudden disappearances don't stop at books; the media we consume but do not own can easily be taken down and erased as if it never existed beyond our collective memory and some screen captures online.

Let's put it in perspective...

It is a Spring day with cherry blossoms blowing in the air. You grab your e-reader and decide to read that book you got a couple months ago, while sitting outside in your backyard. You scroll and scroll, looking for it, but it is now gone from your app. You paid $5.99 for an e-book that a platform (I'm not blaming authors here) decided to one day take down without notice and a refund was not given. Shrugging, you move inside to the living room. Sure, if you can't read then you can leisurely watch a movie on one of your streaming services. You browse, and browse, and browse, the screen changing with every click of the remote. The movie that you've been watching religiously (because you love it that much) has been removed from the streaming service you've been paying $16 every month. For another service, you've been paying $9.99 each month, but they are constantly taking shows and movies down, and the choices that are available are far from your taste. You check the other platforms that you're paying for, and even turn on the TV to see what's on besides the news. But you don't like anything that's playing. You're out a few hundred dollars every couple of months as you pay for entertainment that you can't really enjoy.

And do I need to talk about "ad-free" streaming services that try to deviate from that specific feature? You pay for them to listen to your favorite artist's new album, or to a song, well aware that they can be removed or edited at any time. 

We pay to consume, and at the end of the day all those things can be removed and we are left with nothing.

That's where having physical media comes in.

Earlier this year I cancelled my Spotify subscription because I was getting annoyed at the random ads between podcast episodes. Besides the personal aspect of this, there's the fact of how little they pay artists. I also got rid of my show and movie streaming service accounts, as well as rarely buying e-books anymore (as I prefer paperbacks when I purchase a book).

After making those decisions, I have moved back to "tangible music": I hit up my local thrift stores and went through the bins of records and CDs. I have gotten some $1 records of Tchaikovsky and Southern music that I play on the record player, as well as some CDs of Los Temerarios and Ramon Ayala.  I got my favorite Chappell Roan and Leon Bridges' records that I can listen to whenever I please. As for movies and shows, something unexpected happened. I don't feel in any rush to collect all the episodes in a series nor to buy every movie that I have liked. Instead, I've been taking my time when buying movies and show seasons depending on what I find second-hand. Just last week I found the first few seasons of The Simpsons and I've been watching it when I get some free time.

The older I get and want to be careful with my money, the more I'm realizing that once I own these pieces of media--favorite movies and TV shows, music--it's made me more mindful of what I'm consuming and what I decide to spend my money on. I'm no longer browsing endlessly for what to watch, instead I can put on my Golden Girls DVD and play it while I write or clean the house, catching some of the scenes that I love so much. I can be certain that if a show gets taken off a streaming platform, or a music album is removed, I can still find my favorites in the shelves of my home.