Would it surprise you to hear that this was the declaration of my amiable thirteen-year-old daughter—about one of my favorite books—and her words delighted me?
Because what Jane meant, what she followed this adamant statement with, was that she wants me to read the rest of Sense and Sensibility to her, because she so enjoyed hearing the first two chapters read aloud this afternoon. I admit I’m a bit of a ham and I tackle the accents with immense relish. (Former drama major, what can I say?)
She hasn’t read any Jane Austen yet (I think she tried Pride and Prejudice a year or two ago and it didn’t grab her at the time), and I had a hunch that if I read a chapter or two aloud to her she would get sucked in and devour the rest, and then we could have all kinds of girlish gabfests about Elinor and Marianne and that absolute pill, Fanny. And I was mostly right: Jane howled in all the right places and we had ourselves a fine old time. So fine that she wants to continue on as we’ve begun.
Which is aces with me, because I can’t wait to try my hand at Lucy Steele.