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Sanditon, The Watsons, and Lady Susan
Sanditon, The Watsons, and Lady Susan
Sanditon, The Watsons, and Lady Susan
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Sanditon, The Watsons, and Lady Susan

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

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Collected together here are three of Jane Austen’s posthumously published works; “Sanditon”, “The Watsons”, and “Lady Susan”. These fragmentary tales show Austen experimenting with different literary styles and parodying the popular novels of her day. In “Sanditon,” Austen uses the premise of an idyllic and modern seaside town to examine its inhabitants and their various social circles with her trademark sharp social observations and wit. “The Watsons” is the story of Mr. Watson, a widowed clergyman, and his two sons and four daughters. The heroine of the tale is the spirited daughter Emma, who finds her marriage prospects lessened by both her poverty and, ironically, her sense of refinement. “Lady Susan”, the most complete of the three, is an epistolary novel which focuses on the story of its title character, a beautiful, but petty and unscrupulous woman. Lady Susan engages in constant flirtations and manipulations while she searches for rich husbands for herself and her young daughter. Also included here is a cancelled chapter of “Persuasion” and the short essay “Plan of a Novel” in which Austen sets out her capacity as a novelist and what makes up the ideal novel. This edition includes a biographical afterword.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 27, 2018
ISBN9781420958744
Sanditon, The Watsons, and Lady Susan
Author

Jane Austen

Born in 1775, Jane Austen published four of her six novels anonymously. Her work was not widely read until the late nineteenth century, and her fame grew from then on. Known for her wit and sharp insight into social conventions, her novels about love, relationships, and society are more popular year after year. She has earned a place in history as one of the most cherished writers of English literature.

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Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
3.5/5

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Marie Dobbs, under the pen name "Another Lady," took up the challenge to complete Austen's Sanditon and the result is a delightful and satisfying treat. Another Lady takes up her pen where Austen left off and continues the tale. There is no jarring shift in the narrative style, Another Lady adopts the language and style of Austen, developing the plot and characters in a careful and believable manner. Her Sanditon has all the fun and novelty of Catherine Morland's adventures, Fanny Price's astute observations, and the eventfulness Emma's of close-knit town life.Gricel @ things-she-read.org
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I read this so I could start watching the new series from Pemberly Digital and it worked in nicely with my personal challenge to read all of Jane Austen this year.

    It was okay, but I would not consider it a Jane Austen novel. The first 11 chapters were hers and the rest of the story was okay, but I would never re-read it.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I have had this book a long time sitting on my shelves and have been very hesitant about reading it. I didn’t know how I felt about reading a book that was started by Jane Austen and then finished by someone else. Plus reading any uncompleted Jane Austen novel is very hard to handle. Eventually curiosity got the best of me and I picked up this book with basically no expectations that I would enjoy it. I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised with it. I think that had Jane Austen lived to finish this book it would have been another masterpiece, but since she did not have this chance, I have to say that Another Lady did a very good job at keeping with Jane Austen’s style. I don’t think a better imitation could have been accomplished. It is very hard to find the exact point that Jane Austen ends and Another Lady picks up. Another Lady does tell you in the last chapter where she began, and she does apologize for not being Jane Austen. It was a very smooth transition. I thought that Another Lady completed the story with probably the same intentions that Jane Austen may have had. The only small issue I have is that I wish the character development for Charlotte would have been done a little better, and I think her feelings for Sidney at times were very differently wrote than maybe how Austen would have done it but this still doesn’t make me think any less of it. I really enjoyed it and I will be keeping this book as part of my Jane Austen collection.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    *Please note: the author, who published this under the name of "Another Lady" also publishes under the names Anne Telscombe and Marie Dobbs. I'm not sure if either is her real name, but for the sake of brevity, I'm calling her "Dobbs" from here on out.To properly explain to you why I love this novel, first I need to set the scene: the year was 2008, I wasn't blogging yet, and was in need of some structure; I was planning my summer reading and wishing for something like Jane Austen, when I realized that there were all these adaptations out there. At first, I was a bit startled. People would dare to "continue" and "adapt" Jane Austen? The horror. But then I thought, Maybe I could just embrace it? Maybe I could have a "Summer of Jane" and read all the adaptations I can get my hands on... (sound familiar?) Well, it didn't work out quite the way I'd planned, because the first few I picked up (the names long since forgotten) were dreadful. Awful, awful, awful stuff. In fact, I had just read another completion of Jane Austen's last unfinished work (ie this one) called "Charlotte" - about which I wrote my most scathing review EVER...only to have a Goodreads pageload error when I hit publish and I lost everything. Thwarted!Anyway, I was about to give up and write off all Austen adaptations as puerile trash, but I had one more book in my stack of library books that was waiting to be read. I was really hesitant to read it, not only because it was another Austen adaptation, but because it was an adaptation of the very same work I'd just finished and loathed. Even if it turned out marginally better (I wasn't expecting much), I doubted I'd be able to separate it from the crap that filled the other book. But I decided to suck it up and give it a chance, and oh my sweet Jane, if it didn't completely change my mind about Austen adaptations. It was a revelation.Now, I'm not saying this was perfect by any means. And I don't know how Jane Herself would have actually finished out the story (the fragment, if you didn't know, is 11 chapters long, so a good amount of the groundwork had been laid), but I have to say, Dobbs did a really admirable job of taking what she had to work with, parsing it out and figuring out where Austen may have intended the story to go, as well as where modern readers might want it to go, and then embracing that and going there. Aside from one particular sub-plot (that of the foolish wannabe-rake who takes things too far), I really didn't have any trouble believing that the story Dobbs presented was the one Jane intended. It has her characteristic wit, and skewers the foibles of a population in a very Jane-like way. The hero and heroine Dobbs presents feel very well-suited to each other and to Austen's world, like they may be close to what Austen intended of them, and most of the things they go through worked for me.I was also very impressed with how seamlessly Dobbs blended her writing with Austen's. I was so invested in the story (both the first and second times I read it) that I was 3/4 of the way through before I ever had the thought to wonder where specifically Austen's fragment left off and Dobbs writing picked up. I had to google, and then flip back and forth and compare. Dobbs did a very admirable job of mimicking Austen's tone and style without feeling forced or hitting many false notes. She captured that sly sense of humor, the sharp eye towards the follies of others, the characterization, the structure - she really took her time to make the story and the style - Austen's style - shine, rather than letting her own style intrude. Rather, when it came time for her to take over the story, she injected her style gradually, so that - even though the plot does become more absurd and somewhat modern in its telling - the transition happens at such a good pace, and the style remains consistent enough, that the reader is never jarred out of the story by an abrupt shift in style or content.Now, four years later, my "Summer of Jane" - which was to be a single, read-it-all and move on project - has evolved into a yearly tradition, and I've stumbled across many more good - and more than my share of bad - adaptations. To make sure my enjoyment of Sanditon wasn't a fluke due to the horrid nature of the other adaptations I'd read, I bought a copy and curled up with it for a second time. It wasn't a fluke; I fell just as in love with it as I did the first time around, and if it weren't for the fact that people would look at me like, Who? in Austen conversations, I'd talk just as readily of Charlotte and Sidney as I do of Elizabeth and Darcy, Catherine and Tilney, Wentworth and Anne... This was the first Austen adaptation I read that made me feel anything even close to what I felt the first time I read any of Austen's works, and it remains one of the few to have done so.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I have been saving up this book for myself for two reasons. First, it's Jane Austen's last novel — once I read this, there remain only a few fragments of her work that I have not devoured. Alas. And second, I was afraid that the completion of the story (written in 1975) by "Another Lady" would disappoint. I was correct on both counts. Do be aware that this review will contain spoilers.Charlotte Heywood is a sensible young woman of twenty-two, the eldest child in a family of fourteen children. Because of the number of children, the Heywoods are never able to visit anywhere fashionable. So when chance throws the Heywoods together with the gentleman proprietor of a new seaside resort, Sanditon, the family is delighted that Charlotte is invited to spend the summer there. The Parkers are a kind and respectable family, though Mr. Parker is perhaps a trifle gullible on the point of his pet project, Sanditon. When Charlotte arrives, she finds plentiful subjects for her great pleasure, observing the behavior of others. Lady Denham is the principal leader of Sanditon society, and despite her riches she is shamefully parsimonious, selfish, and mean. Her suspicious nature makes life very difficult for her dependent cousin, the lovely Miss Clara Brereton. Sir Edward Denham and his sister Miss Denham are hangers-on at Lady Denham's elbow, hoping for a share of the inheritance. Sir Edward — a passionate young man with more feeling than sense — hopes to woo the fair Clara. But what does Clara want? Add to the mix a young mulatto heiress of weak health, Miss Lambe; two coquettish young fortune-hunters, the Misses Beaufort; Mr. Parker's two hypochondriac sisters, Diana and Susan, who have taught their other brother, Arthur, to be as worried over his health as they; and Mr. Sidney Parker, the last of the Parker siblings, who is a joking, intelligent, and apparently untruthful young man. He brings his two friends, Henry Brudenall and Reginald Catton, to the neighborhood as well. The young ladies are excessively interested in the possibilities afforded by the influx of so many eligible gentlemen. Charlotte, feeling herself possessed of no particular beauty or fortune to tempt any of them, is content to observe the machinations of the party as each person politely connives to get his way. Jane Austen's part of the story ends with chapter eleven, and it really is a pity that she was unable to finish. I would love to know the full storyline that she had in mind. While it is not immediately apparent where the join comes in, things get a little out of hand as the story progresses. The plot becomes a bit uncharacteristic and the characters begin to say and do things that do not always feel authentic. Sir Edward, for example, seems altogether unfit to be an Austenian character (even for a villain) when he fails to carry off Clara and decides to abduct Charlotte instead. I know Austen laid the foundation for this with Sir Edward's unhealthy obsession with novels in which the hero can never control his passion for the heroine, but eesh! Abduction in an Austen novel?The person most inconsistent with the Austenian formula, however, is Charlotte herself. I can understand how she would inadvertently fall in love with Sidney, but to confess that she would have done whatever he wanted, regardless of her moral convictions — it just doesn't feel right. Austen's heroines are perhaps weak at times in controlling their feelings, but they can always control their actions and regulate their behavior with good sense. The way it sounds in this book is that Charlotte would have eloped with Sidney, against all her notions of morality, if he had but asked her. Sidney's desire, to have a wife who is sensible in all things except him, comes across as egotistical and selfish rather than amusing (as it would seem that "Another Lady" intended). The justification for all the lies he tells throughout the story feels a bit threadbare.But there were some good points with the completion, too. I enjoyed the other characters and found them mostly believable. The dialogue was fairly good, though sometimes the acerbic narrative asides were a bit too pointed ("look at me! I'm being snarky in Regency language!"). However, I was mollified by the note at the end of the completion, in which the author gives the reasons for her plot additions and apologizes for the deficiencies of her work. It's good that she acknowledges that she cannot perfectly imitate Austen's style — because, of course, she can't. I'm not sure anyone can. "Another Lady" was certainly brave to make the attempt!Overall I would say I enjoyed this quite a bit, despite its flaws. It was wonderful escaping to another Austenian world, with all its absurd characters who are somehow believable. I would tweak the completion a bit, mostly in terms of the abduction scene and the moral character of Charlotte, but I'm glad I read it. And it could have been much worse; with the "continuations" of Austen's novels written nowadays, with graphic sex scenes and extremely modern characters, I feel very thankful that this completion did not veer into territory so antithetical to Austen's portrayal of Regency England. It could have been better, but it also could have been much worse, and I believe that most Austen fans would enjoy this. An enjoyable read.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    I wouldn't like to say that it was impossible for another author to complete Jane Austen's unfinished novel, Sandition, or to pen a sequel worthy of her masterpieces, but I have simply never seen it done. Sadly, this book did not prove me wrong...I am not sure who "Another Lady" may be, but as admirable as I find her attempt, her prose is no match for the witty Jane, and I recall being instantly aware of the change in authorship, when passing from the eleventh to the twelfth chapter. How I wish that Austen had been able to complete this novel... but as she didn't, I must simply reconcile myself to the fact that there will be no more Jane Austen discoveries for me...Unless, of course, I decide to read her letters... hmmm - now there's an idea!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    You can certainly tell at some point that Austen has ended and "Another Lady" has begun, but that's ok. I think the book itself keeps to the spirit of Austen very well. Personally, I love the biting sarcasm that harkens back to Austen's earlier works (especially Northanger Abbey). Charlotte is a great heroine, although she will never be my favorite. Sidney is an utterly fantastic and irresistable character in and of himself. And the supporting cast is rich enough I almost thought I was reading Dickens at times. Overall a very good read. I'm sure I will be revisiting it at some point.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Written in the last months of Austen's life, the uncompleted novel Sanditon is set in a newly established seaside resort, with a glorious cast of hypochondriacs and speculators, and shows the author contemplating a changing society with a mixture of skepticism and amusement (Wikipedia).Here is the summary for the completed version, which I found on a wonderful book review site called Cleo's Literary Reviews: "Charlotte Heywood, captivating heroine of Sanditon, is smart, beautiful, and in search of a husband. As in all of Austen's novels, however, the road to matrimony is littered with obstacles: Charlotte must escape the clutches of an insufferable suitor, deal with the fortune-hunting schemes of the reigning local dowager, and outsmart a bevy of ambitious beauties who have set their sights on the charming Sidney Parker--and convince the fickle young man that he really loves her."Alas, I found Sanditon hard going. Despite being an Austen die-hard, I could not summon up the same level of enthusiasm as I always have with Ms. Austen's (for me) perfect Regency novels. Perhaps that is why one cannot imitate another author. There is a fine touch, an aliveness, a magicality to each author's work that can be copied but never perfectly imitated.Jane Austen wrote the first eleven chapters and `Another Lady' took over from there. While reading, I have been wondering if Ms Austen meant the story to go in this direction. The story seems to flounder in the new author's hands. I found her descriptions fussy, overly-detailed and, in places, laboured. While the framework of dry, sly wit and detailed observations of people, places, actions, and daily activities remain, the enchantment of Jane Austen's style is lost. The women are silly and dull-witted (even the increasingly vacillating heroine); the men lack any kind of depth or gallantry, and sorrow comes across as the sulks in a few instances.I find Sydney Parker shallow, sly and manipulative and cannot believe that Charlotte does not instantly dismiss him from her (increasingly scattered) mind. Many of the lesser players do, however, have the wonderful absurdity characteristic of an Austen work--the busybodies, the chatterboxes, the hypochondriacs, and the industriously idle. For me it is not true Austen in terms of the plot development, but as I said, some of the players are really memorable little gems. The Misses Beaufort could easily be 21st-century socialites by the way they latch onto the latest fashions and fads. Their activities with collecting, drying and pressing seaweed are hilarious. Despite these little glimmers, I found Sanditon seriously disappointing.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I'm an Austen fan, so nothing more natural than reading everything she had ever written. Sandition is one of her unfinnished works, in fact is the novel she was writting when she died. This edition has a finished version of the story written by an anonymous lady.She just wrote the first eleven chapters which are mainly focused on character and set description. While reading these chapters I was frequently thinking that they felt like a draft version, nothing wrong with it specially reading an unfinished work, just something a less fanatic reader should take into account. The draft-ish style ends with the beginning of the Another Lady'spart.What sould I say about it? First of all I found this part interesting and quite Austen-like, I think the development of the story is certainly in the style Jane Austen would have ended it herself, I mean the matches and relations established are very much in her style and no strangesness aroused from them. The writing style is also good and though it is certainly not Jane's it fits perfectly well.So where's the problem? I think it's mainly in the ending and in some phrases and little details of the characters behavior that the 'Another Lady' is not faithful to her and a more 20th century approach is taken. Some phrases and manners are so far from the typical from Jane's heroines and suitors that I could not help thinking 'this is not Jane' several times while reading the last chapters.In spite of these I have greatly enjoyed the book and I am very much satisfied with the brave author that dared to end this novel.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Another ‘continuation’ or ‘completion’ of a Jane Austen work in progress, though Marie Dobbs’ take on Sanditon, which Austen began six months before her death in 1817, falls short of the original chapters, in my opinion. No author can successfully imitate Austen’s style or humour, and granted, the finished six novels in her compact oeuvre are limited in plot and players, but Dobbs doesn’t develop one likeable or sympathetic character and the story, such as it is, merely follows the direction of Emma and Northanger Abbey.The first eleven chapters penned by Austen introduce the cast and set the scene. A carriage overturns in a small town on the Sussex coast, and the gentleman travelling within seeks medical assistance for a threatened sprained ankle. He is Mr Parker of Sanditon, a seaside village, with his wife, Mrs Parker. They meet a kind farmer by the name of Mr Heywood, who takes the beleaguered travellers home to meet his family of a wife and fourteen children. In return, the Parkers offer to transport the whole Heywood family on with them to Sanditon, which Mr Parker likes to promote as a bathing place and modern health resort. Mr Heywood declines on his own part, but accepts for his eldest daughter, Charlotte, who becomes the Parkers’ house guest. When the three of them finally reach Sanditon, Charlotte finds not a populous location like Brighton or Eastbourne, but instead a small community by the sea, being slowly transformed into an up and coming holiday destination by Mr Parker and his co-sponsor, Lady Denham. There she meets Mr Parker’s brothers, Sidney and Arthur, and his two hypochondriac sisters, Susan and Diana. Lady Denham’s hateful relations are also on the scene, including the pompous and ridiculous Sir Edward and his sister Miss Denham, plus a distant cousin, Clara Brereton, who is on probation as Lady Denham’s companion. And a veritable influx of summer guests are promised to arrive at Sanditon any day, but there might be some confusion as to numbers.And then, after presenting all of Sanditon’s inhabitants to the reader and hinting at a secret romance between two of the characters, Jane Austen died. Marie Dobbs picks up on mid-paragraph, but loses the irony and sharp wit of Austen’s writing in almost the same chapter. Instead of letting the characters make fools of themselves, Dobbs mocks them through the penetrating observations of her snotty heroine, Charlotte. Austen’s Sir Edward spends half a page expounding on romance novels, but Dobbs cuts to the chase, and condemns him for using ‘nonsensical words and inappropriate quotations’. Charlotte herself turns from a laughing Elizabeth Bennet into a prudish Fanny Price, and seems ill-matched with the only decent suitor of the set, Mr Parker’s brother Sidney, who is himself an unappealing combination of Frank Churchill and Henry Tilney. The rest of the characters are little more than caricatures, from the fussy Parker sisters to the Misses Steele – sorry, wrong novel – Beaufort, staying at the hotel. I don’t mind comic relief, if the characters are actually amusing, or at least pleasant, but I didn’t even like the heroine of this novel. The only pair I was actually happy for was Arthur Parker and Miss Lambe, who at least didn’t mess around and deserved their happiness.The direction of the story is fairly predictable, and painfully slow to get to the point – which is fine when reading Austen, but not a pale imitation. There are pages of dialogue about toast and seaweed, all in the proper language but not really helpful to the plot and tedious to read. The romances are signalled from the beginning, and the lovers too flat and pathetic to care about. I think Dobbs was struggling with so many names and relationships, because nobody really makes the grade in the end. How I wish Austen could have finished her own novel, or at least written a few more notes before she died.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The first eleven chapters of Sanditon were written by Jane Austen between January 27 and March 18, 1817. While writing this she had less than six months to live, and it’s hard to believe she was still able to keep her characters so witty and engaging with death at her door.“Another Lady” says her completion of the manuscript is not intended for literary critics but for Jane Austen fans. She takes over half-way through chapter eleven. Jane Austen’s last words being, "Poor Mr. Hollis! It was impossible not to feel him hardly used: to be obliged to stand back in his own house and see the best place by the fire constantly occupied by Sir Henry Denham."I imagine this was how Wheel of Time fans felt when Robert Jordan died before finishing his final novel in the series. Good thing he left extensive notes. Unfortunately Jane Austen didn’t, all “Another Lady” knew was that 1) in five of six novels, the heroine lives in a country village until a rich bachelor arrives 2) each heroine has a rival and 3) nobody dies on stage and you can expect a happy ending.It all starts with a couple’s carriage being overturned near the heroine Charlotte's home. Because her family helps them out and takes care of the gentleman’s ankle they take Charlotte back home with them to Sanditon, a seaside resort for a vacation. There Charlotte meets all sorts of dashing and extravagant people. Including Mr. Parker’s brother Sidney. One thing I really loved about Sidney Parker was he reminded me of Henry Tilney from Northanger Abbey my favorite Austen novel. Sidney is charming and witty and teases Charlotte mercilessly. This is hilarious because her character is extremely practical and cautious and he disconcerts her to the point of bafflement.Some hardcore fans claim the novel was better left unfinished, but I’m glad “Another Lady” did. I mean you have to give her credit for even attempting. She admits that Austen’s writing can’t be faithfully copied and for that she apologizes, and I don’t mind. To be honest I didn’t notice the switching of authors, it was that seamless to me. I’m not a scholar on the subject though so maybe to others it would be more evident. The ending was more like a Georgette Heyer ending in that it was a bit more fantastical, but that made it all the more enjoyable.If you’re an Austen or Heyer fan read it. Take it to the beach and laugh. I hold Charlotte Heywood and Sidney Parker right up there with Austen’s other characters. "Another Lady" did a really good job.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Fans of Jane had to buy it and had to read it. And we fans wish she had finished it too. It is better than nothing, but not as much care, understanding of the era or of mores and morals were included in the the larger non-Jane part of the book.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I enjoyed this book as much as any other of her books, although this one was actually finished by "another lady". She did an admirable job, though in my opinion.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This represents the last writings of Jane Austen. She put the work aside in March of 1817, and died 4 months later. The novel remained unfinished, but at some point another took up the pen to complete it, and the flyleaf of this edition (Houghton Mifflin Company, 1975) bears the inscription of Jane Austen and Another Lady (who apparently is names Anne Telscombe).Starting to read this book, I found myself entering into that singular rhythm found in Austen novel; smiling to myself at the quaintness, and delighting as she drew out characters. But there was a point when things no longer felt "right". The characters changed, and the writing seemed to bear the complexities of a more modern hand. By about chapter 14, I put the book down and began to investigate more thoroughly where the break was from Austen's original and the pen of Another Lady. This apparently occurs in chapter 11, where Austen was outlining the situation of the twice-widowed Lady Denham, who was living back in the home of her first (deceased) husband, who was not titled. His portrait was on the wall in a corner, while Sir Henry's occupied a more prominent place of honor over the mantle. The last sentence Austen wrote, was on this, and shows her typical delicious style/ "Poor Mr Hollis! It was impossible not to feel him hardly used; to be obliged to stand back in his own house and see the best place by the fire constantly occupied by Sir Henry Denham"I think I almost enjoyed my research more than the actual novel (which was one my mother got as a library discard, and passed on to me.) I did both online reading and then discovered an afterward in this edition that gave nice info.Normally, I steer clear of novels "in the style of", but this was nice to read, and I must admit that I am rather proud of myself for picking out the change in authorship.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    More of a social commentary than a novel, but interesting nonetheless.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Before I knew that it was only 11 chapters that Austen wrote, I was remarking on modern phrases, devices, and hijinks. It was an interesting story, that kept me going til late at night, but it did not leave me feeling as radiant as real Austen work does. I liked Charlotte Heywood a lot, and the characters were vividly drawn, but the meetings and hijinks and openly discussed (or thought) manipulation on the part of the hero just seemed a bit much. Also, I thought it weird that nowhere in the book does the Other Lady say her name... not even in her apology at the end. Weird? Nice story and plenty of humor and time and place-specific fun details.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Before I knew that it was only 11 chapters that Austen wrote, I was remarking on modern phrases, devices, and hijinks. It was an interesting story, that kept me going til late at night, but it did not leave me feeling as radiant as real Austen work does. I liked Charlotte Heywood a lot, and the characters were vividly drawn, but the meetings and hijinks and openly discussed (or thought) manipulation on the part of the hero just seemed a bit much. Also, I thought it weird that nowhere in the book does the Other Lady say her name... not even in her apology at the end. Weird? Nice story and plenty of humor and time and place-specific fun details.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Although superficially like Austen I found the events of the final chapters unlikely.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    While this is unfortunately an unfinished work, it’s worth reading if you’re a Jane Austen fan. This gets off to a somewhat slow start as it’s busy introducing characters and setting the scene of this close-knit seaside community, plus rather than immediately settling in with one of the heroines, it begins with Mr. Parker who’s a bit on the tedious side (though as is common for Austen’s novels she does wring some humor out of his tedium as well as his hypochondriac siblings).Sadly Sanditon stops before there was time enough to truly dig into the personalities of the three heroines, Charlotte, Miss Lambe (a mixed race character which could have been refreshing for a book of this era depending on how she might have developed) and Clara, but I was intrigued by Edward’s villainous intentions, it seemed like that could get pretty juicy in a conflicting Henry Crawford sort of way. I haven’t watched the mini-series of this yet, but you could definitely see why someone would want to expand on this story, there’s a ton of potential here.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This is a novel fragment of 12 short chapters written by Austen in the last months of her life and presumably abandoned due to her growing ill-health. It sets the scene nicely for an interesting and amusing story featuring an eclectic cast of characters and it is a shame it was never completed. For those watching the current ITV adaptation, the action of these chapters is really all included in the first TV episode, so only the backdrop and characters are as Austen intended.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I recently read two incomplete novels by Jane Austen, The Watsons and Sanditon, loved both, and was left wanting more. I found the fragment of Sanditon left uncompleted by Jane Austen's death, even more intriguing; it had such possibilities! I really liked our heroine Charlotte Heywood, with her obvious intelligence, lack of pretension and good sense. In the eleven chapters of 26,000 or so words of Austen's text, Lady Denham and the three Parker hypochondriac siblings struck me as brilliant comic creations. Then there's Sir Edward Denham, who models himself after rakes like Richardson's Lovelace and schemes to seduce, and if not, abduct, Clara, his rival for Lady Denham's inheritance. Then there's Miss Lambe, "a young West Indian of large fortune," who is "about seventeen, half mulatto, and chilly and tender." What an interesting character to find in an Austen novel! However, after my experience with Aiken's Watsons completion, I didn't expect much from the 1975 completion by "Another Lady" For what it's worth, I loved it. No, I'm not saying "Another Lady" (from the copyright apparently Marie Dobbs) is Austen's equal. But she tacked on her story seamlessly from where Austen ended, developed the characters very nicely and seemed to get the period details right. On its own terms, this is a winning historical romance, and I loved in particularly how she developed the hero, Sidney Parker, from the bare hints in what was left to us. I agree with the review below that he rivals Henry Tilney of Northanger Abbey in wit and charm. I've been unimpressed by most of the Jane Austen pastiches I've tried, this one left me with a smile. One point off to indicate no, this doesn't rank with those of Austen's novels completed by her, but the story is very enjoyable and earned a permanent place on my bookshelf.

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Sanditon, The Watsons, and Lady Susan - Jane Austen

cover.jpg

SANDITON,

THE WATSONS,

AND

LADY SUSAN

By JANE AUSTEN

Sanditon, The Watsons, and Lady Susan

By Jane Austen

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5873-7

eBook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5874-4

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Cover Image: a detail of The Letter (oil on canvas), c. 19th century, by Domenico Induno (1815-78) / Private Collection / Photo © Christie's Images / Bridgeman Images.

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CONTENTS

PLAN OF A NOVEL

SANDITON

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

THE WATSONS

CANCELLED CHAPTER OF ‘PERSUASION’

LADY SUSAN

Letter I

Letter II

Letter III

Letter IV

Letter V

Letter VI

Letter VII

Letter VIII

Letter IX

Letter X

Letter XI

Letter XII

Letter XIII

Letter XIV

Letter XV

Letter XVI

Letter XVII

Letter XVIII

Letter XIX

Letter XX

Letter XXI

Letter XXII

Letter XXIII

Letter XXIV

Letter XXV

Letter XXVI

Letter XXVII

Letter XXVIII

Letter XXIX

Letter XXX

LETTER XXXI

Letter XXXII

Letter XXXIII

Letter XXXIV

Letter XXXV

Letter XXXVI

Letter XXXVII

Letter XXXVIII

Letter XXXIX

Letter XL

Letter XLI

Conclusion

BIOGRAPHICAL AFTERWORD

Plan of a Novel

Scene to be in the Country, Heroine the Daughter of a Clergyman, one who after having lived much in the World had retired from it and settled in a Curacy, with a very small fortune of his own.—He, the most excellent Man that can be imagined, perfect in Character, Temper, and Manners—without the smallest drawback or peculiarity to prevent his being the most delightful companion to his Daughter from one year’s end to the other.—Heroine a faultless Character herself,—perfectly good, with much tenderness and sentiment, and not the least Wit—very highly accomplished, understanding modern Languages and (generally speaking) everything that the most accomplished young Women learn, but particularly excelling in Music—her favourite pursuit—and playing equally well on the Pianoforte and Harp—and singing in the first stile. Her Person quite beautiful—dark eyes and plump cheeks.—Book to open with the description of Father and Daughter—who are to converse in long speeches, elegant Language—and a tone of high serious sentiment.—The Father to be induced, at his Daughter’s earnest request, to relate to her the past events of his Life. This Narrative will reach through the greatest part of the first volume—as besides all the circumstances of his attachment to her Mother and their Marriage, it will comprehend his going to sea as Chaplain to a distinguished naval character about the Court, his going afterwards to Court himself, which introduced him to a great variety of Characters and involved him in many interesting situations, concluding with his opinions on the Benefits to result from Tithes being done away, and his having buried his own Mother (Heroine’s lamented Grandmother) in consequence of the High Priest of the Parish in which she died refusing to pay her Remains the respect due to them. The Father to be of a very literary turn, an Enthusiast in Literature, nobody’s Enemy but his own—at the same time most zealous in discharge of his Pastoral Duties, the model of an exemplary Parish Priest.—The heroine’s friendship to be sought after by a young woman in the same Neighbourhood, of Talents and Shrewdness, with light eyes and a fair skin, but having a considerable degree of Wit, Heroine shall shrink from the acquaintance. From this outset, the Story will proceed, and contain a striking variety of adventures. Heroine and her Father never above a fortnight together in one place, he being driven from his Curacy by the vile arts of some totally unprincipled and heart-less young Man, desperately in love with the Heroine, and pursuing her with unrelenting passion.—No sooner settled in one Country of Europe than they are necessitated to quit it and retire to another—always making new acquaintance, and always obliged to leave them.—This will of course exhibit a wide variety of Characters—but there will be no mixture; the scene will be for ever shifting from one Set of People to another—but All the Good will be unexceptionable in every respect—and there will be no foibles or weaknesses but with the Wicked, who will be completely depraved and infamous, hardly a resemblance of humanity left in them.—Early in her career, in the progress of her first removals, Heroine must meet with the Hero—all perfection of course—and only prevented from paying his addresses to her by some excess of refinement.—Wherever she goes, somebody falls in love with her, and she receives repeated offers of Marriage—which she refers wholly to her Father, exceedingly angry that he should not be first applied to.—Often carried away by the anti-hero, but rescued either by her Father or by the Hero—often reduced to support herself and her Father by her Talents and work for her Bread; continually cheated and defrauded of her hire, worn down to a Skeleton, and now and then starved to death.—At last, hunted out of civilized Society, denied the poor Shelter of the humblest Cottage, they are compelled to retreat into Kamschatka where the poor Father, quite worn down, finding his end approaching, throws himself on the Ground, and after 4 or 5 hours of tender advice and parental Admonition to his miserable Child, expires in a fine burst of Literary Enthusiasm, intermingled with Invectives against holders of Tithes.—Heroine inconsolable for some time—but afterwards crawls back towards her former Country—having at least 20 narrow escapes from falling into the hands of the Anti-hero—and at last in the very nick of time, turning a corner to avoid him, runs into the arms of the Hero himself, who having just shaken off the scruples which fettered him before, was at the very moment setting off in pursuit of her.—The Tenderest and completest éclaircissement takes place, and they are happily united.—Throughout the whole work, Heroine to be in the most elegant Society and living in high style. The name of the work not to be Emma, but of the same sort as Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice.

Sanditon

Chapter 1

A Gentleman and Lady travelling from Tunbridge towards that part of the Sussex coast which lies between Hastings and Eastbourne, being induced by business to quit the high road and attempt a very rough lane, were overturned in toiling up its long a scent, half rock, half sand. The accident happened just beyond the only gentleman’s house near the lane—a house which their driver, on being first required to take that direction, had conceived to be necessarily their object and had with most unwilling looks been constrained to pass by. He had grumbled and shaken his shoulders and pitied and cut his horses so sharply that he might have been open to the suspicion of overturning them on purpose (especially as the carriage was not his master’s own) if the road had not indisputably become worse than before, as soon as the premises of the said house were left behind—expressing with a most portentous countenance that, beyond it, no wheels but cart wheels could safely proceed. The severity of the fall was broken by their slow pace and the narrowness of the lane; and the gentleman having scrambled out and helped out his companion, they neither of them at first felt more than shaken and bruised. But the gentleman had, in the course of the extrication, sprained his foot; and soon becoming sensible of it, was obliged in a few moments to cut short both his remonstrance to the driver and his congratulations to his wife and himself and sit down on the bank, unable to stand.

There is something wrong here, said he, putting his hand to his ankle. But never mind, my dear, looking up at her with a smile, it could not have happened, you know, in a better place Good out of evil. The very thing perhaps to be wished for. We shall soon get relief. There, I fancy, lies my cure, pointing to the neat-looking end of a cottage, which was seen romantically situated among wood on a high eminence at some little distance—Does not that promise to Be the very place?

His wife fervently hoped it was; but stood, terrified and anxious, neither able to do or suggest anything, and receiving her first real comfort from the sight of several persons now coming to their assistance. The accident had been discerned from a hayfield adjoining the house they had passed. And the persons who approached were a well-looking, hale, gentlemanlike man of middle age, the proprietor of the place, who happened to be among his haymakers at the time, and three or four of the ablest of them summoned to attend their master—to say nothing of all the rest of the field, men, women and children, not very far off.

Mr. Heywood, such was the name of the said proprietor, advanced with a very civil salutation, much concern for the accident, some surprise at anybody’s attempting that road in a carriage, and ready offers of assistance. His courtesies were received with good breeding and gratitude, and while one or two of the men lent their help to the driver in getting the carriage upright again, the traveller said, "You are extremely obliging, sir, and I take you at your word—The injury to my leg is, I dare say, very trifling. But it is always best in these cases, you know, to have a surgeon’s opinion without loss of time; and as the road does not seem in a favourable state for my getting up to his house myself, I will thank you to send off one of these good people for the surgeon.

The surgeon! exclaimed Mr. Heywood. I am afraid you will find no surgeon at hand here, but I dare say we shall do very well without him.

Nay sir, if he is not in the way, his partner will do just as well—or rather better. I would rather see his partner. Indeed I would prefer the attendance of his partner. One of these good people can be with him in three minutes, I am sure. I need not ask whether I see the house, looking towards the cottage, for excepting your own, we have passed none in this place which can be the abode of a gentleman.

Mr. Heywood looked very much astonished. What, sir! Are you expecting to find a surgeon in that cottage? We have neither surgeon nor partner in the parish, I assure you.

Excuse me, sir, replied the other. I am sorry to have the appearance of contradicting you, but from the extent of the parish or some other cause you may not be aware of the fact—stay—can I be mistaken in the place? Am I not in Willingden? Is not this Willingden?

Yes, sir, this is certainly Willingden.

Then, sir, I can bring proof of your having a surgeon in the parish, whether you may know it or not. Here, sir, taking out his pocket book, "if you will do me the favor of casting your eye over these advertisements which I cut out myself from the Morning Post and the Kentish Gazette only yesterday morning in London, I think you will be convinced that I am not speaking at random. You will find in it an advertisement of the dissolution of a partnership in the medical line—in your own parish—extensive business—undeniable character—respectable references—wishing to form a separate establishment. You will find it at full length, sir,’ offering the two little oblong extracts.

Sir, if you were to show me all the newspapers that are printed in one week throughout the kingdom, you would not persuade me of there being a surgeon in Willingden, said Mr. Heywood with a good-humoured smile. Having lived here ever since I was born, man and boy fifty-seven years, I think I must have known of such a person. At least I may venture to say that he has not much business. To be sure, if gentlemen were to be often attempting this lane in post-chaises, it might not be a bad speculation for a surgeon to get a house at the top of the hill. But as to that cottage, I can assure you, sir, that it is in fact, in spite of its spruce air at this distance, as indifferent a double tenement as any in the parish, and that my shepherd lives at one end and three old women at the other.

He took the pieces of paper as he spoke, and, having looked them over, added, I believe I can explain it, sir. Your mistake is in the place. There are two Willingdens in this country. And your advertisements must refer to the other, which is Great Willingden or Willingden Abbots, and lies seven miles off on the other side of Battle. Quite down in the weald. And we, sir, he added, speaking rather proudly, are not in the weald.

Not down in the weald, I am sure, replied the traveller pleasantly. It took us half an hour to climb your hill. Well, I dare say it is as you say and I have made an abominably stupid blunder. All done in a moment. The advertisements did not catch my eye till the last half hour of our being in town—everything in the hurry and confusion which always attend a short stay there. One is never able to complete anything in the way of business, you know, till the carriage is at the door. So satisfying myself with a brief inquiry, and finding we were actually to pass within a mile or two of a Willingden, I sought no farther.... My dear (to his wife) I am very sorry to have brought you into this scrape. But do not be alarmed about my leg. It gives me no pain while I am quiet. And as soon as these good people have succeeded in setting the carriage to rights and turning the horses round, the best thing we can do will be to measure back our steps into the turnpike road and proceed to Hailsham, and so home without attempting anything farther. Two hours take us home from Hailsham. And once at home, we have our remedy at hand, you know. A little of our own bracing sea air will soon set me on my feet again. Depend upon it, my dear, it is exactly a case for the sea. Saline air and immersion will be the very thing. My sensations tell me so already.

In a most friendly manner Mr. Heywood here interposed, entreating them not to think of proceeding till the ankle had been examined and some refreshment taken, and very cordially pressing them to make use of his house for both purposes.

We are always well stocked, said he, with all the common remedies for sprains and bruises. And I will answer for the pleasure it will give my wife and daughters to be of service to you in every way in their power.

A twinge or two, in trying to move his foot, disposed the traveller to think rather more than he had done at first of the benefit of immediate assistance; and consulting his wife in the few words of Well, my dear, I believe it will be better for us, he turned again to Mr. Heywood. Before we accept your hospitality sir, and in order to do away with any unfavourable impression which the sort of wild-goose chase you find me in may have given rise to—allow me to tell you who we are. My name is Parker, Mr. Parker of Sanditon; this lady, my wife, Mrs. Parker. We are on our road home from London. My name perhaps—though I am by no means the first of my family holding landed property in the parish of Sanditon—may be unknown at this distance from the coast. But Sanditon itself—everybody has heard of Sanditon. The favourite—for a young and rising bathing-place—certainly the favourite spot of all that are to be found along the coast of Sussex; the most favoured by nature, and promising to be the most chosen by man.

Yes, I have heard of Sanditon, replied Mr. Heywood. Every five years, one hears of some new place or other starting up by the sea and growing the fashion. How they can half of them be filled is the wonder! Where people can be found with money and time to go to them! Bad things for a country—sure to raise the price of provisions and make the poor good for nothing—as I dare say you find, sir.

Not at all, sir, not at all, cried Mr. Parker eagerly. Quite the contrary, I assure you. A common idea, but a mistaken one. It may apply to your large, overgrown places like Brighton or Worthing or Eastbourne—but not to a small village like Sanditon, precluded by its size from experiencing any of the evils of civilization; while the growth of the place, the buildings, the nursery grounds, the demand for everything and the sure resort of the very best company—those regular, steady, private families of thorough gentility and character who are a blessing everywhere—excite the industry of the poor and diffuse comfort and improvement among them of every sort. No sir, I assure you, Sanditon is not a place—

I do not mean to take exception to any place in particular, answered Mr. Heywood. I only think our coast is too full of them altogether. But had we not better try to get you—

Our coast too full! repeated Mr. Parker. On that point perhaps we may not totally disagree. At least there are enough. Our coast is abundant enough. It demands no more. Everybody’s taste and everybody’s finances may be suited. And those good people who are trying to add to the number are, in my opinion, excessively absurd and must soon find themselves the dupes of their own fallacious calculations. Such a place as Sanditon, sir, I may say was wanted, was called for. Nature had marked it out, had spoken in most intelligible characters. The finest, purest sea breeze on the coast—acknowledged to be so—excellent bathing—fine hard sand—deep water ten yards from the shore—no mud—no weeds—no slimy rocks. Never was there a place more palpably designed by nature for the resort of the invalid—the very spot which thousands seemed in need of! The most desirable distance from London! One complete, measured mile nearer than Eastbourne. Only conceive, sir, the advantage of saving a whole mile in a long journey. But Brinshore, sir, which I dare say you have in your eye—the attempts of two or three speculating people about Brinshore this last year to raise that paltry hamlet—lying as it does between a stagnant marsh, a bleak moor and the constant effluvia of a ridge of putrefying seaweed—can end in nothing but their own disappointment. What in the name of common sense is to recommend Brinshore? A most insalubrious air—roads proverbially detestable—water brackish beyond example, impossible to get a good dish of tea within three miles of the place. And as for the soil—it is so cold and ungrateful that it can hardly be made to yield a cabbage. Depend upon it, sir, that this is a most faithful description of Brinshore—not in the smallest degree exaggerated—and if you have heard it differently spoken of—"

Sir, I never heard it spoken of in my life before, said Mr. Heywood. I did not know there was such a place in the world.

You did not! There, my dear, turning with exultation to his wife, you see how it is. So much for the celebrity of Brinshore! This gentleman did not know there was such a place in the world. Why, in truth, sir, I fancy we may apply to Brinshore that line of the poet Cowper in his description of the religious cottager, as opposed to Voltaire—She, never heard of half a mile from home."

With all my heart, sir—apply any verses you like to it. But I want to see something applied to your leg. And I am sure by your lady’s countenance that she is quite of my opinion and thinks it a pity to lose any more time. And here come my girls to speak for themselves and their mother. Two or three genteel-looking young women, followed by as many maid servants, were now seen issuing from the house. I began to wonder the bustle should not have reached them. A thing of this kind soon makes a stir in a lonely place like ours, Now, sir, let us see how you can be best conveyed into the house.

The young ladies approached and said everything that was proper to recommend their father’s offers, and in an unaffected manner calculated to make the strangers easy. As Mrs. Parker was exceedingly anxious for relief—and her husband by this time not much less disposed for it—a very few civil scruples were enough; especially as the carriage, being now set up, was discovered to have received such injury on the fallen side as to be

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