Global Wandering

Mansfield Park

Last Friday, LaPriel and I watched Finding Jane, the new Jane Austin film. I don’t view too many movies so I’m a poor judge of technique. Suffice to say, we were amply entertained ⎯ which given the quality of most movies nowadays is saying something.

Afterwards, LaPriel reminded me of a trick I played on her years ago when our eldest son was a few months old. It was a demanding time. I was in graduate school and LaPriel was home with an all-consuming infant. One afternoon I arrived at the house with an 1892 edition of Jane Austin’s Mansfield Park I had bought at a library book sale. I showed LaPriel the book and encouraged her to read it. At that time in her life, the thought of reading a novel seemed overwhelming to her. Still, after paging through book, she decided it wasn’t too long so she would give it a try. Several weeks later she was absorbed by the plot and the characters. As she neared the end of the book, she noticed the novel wasn’t approaching a conclusion. That’s when she examined the title page more carefully and discovered she’d been reading volume one of two. She was most annoyed. Looking back, it was insensitive of me, but at that point of my life, despite being knee deep in an MBA program, I was consumed by literature. I'd spend hours reading and rereading classic novels, visiting used book stores, attempting to learn ancient greek and wondering why I was studying something so banal as business. Somehow I couldn't relate to why LaPriel wouldn't want to read so a bit of deceit seemed justified to get her back on the literature wagon again.