Showing posts with label Bright Star. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bright Star. Show all posts

Giggly Austen quote of the week

Oh my – this made me more than giggle! Guardian writer Tanya Gold saw the new Keats bio-pic Bright Star over the weekend, dropped her popcorn, and then remembered why Hollywood should stop making films about our great writers. Among mention of the highlights of past blunders were Hugh Grant and his handkerchief in Impromptu (1991), Renee Zellwegger’s and her pout in Beatrix Potter (2006) and one rippingly funny analogy of a recent Austen bio-pic:

And it isn't just Keats who gets monstered. Do you remember Becoming Jane (2007)? "Society expected her to marry," said the unforgettable trailer, "but Jane Austen had ideas of her own." You think? Austen was played by Anne Hathaway, a skeletal actress with a big smug grin. If Austen had looked like her, she would never have written a word – she would have been staring in a mirror, saying, "I am hot, I am smoking, I am babelicious." I remember the anger still. I remember thinking, Hollywood has raped Jane Austen. They have turned the patron saint of celibates into a hottie. Austen's writing was incidental, a stuck-on accident that unfortunately had to be mentioned. "What is Jane doing?" asks a character. "Writing," was the reply.

That’s right. Our doe eyed babelicious Jane. Such a hottie.

I had mixed feeling about Becoming Jane. It was a good movie, but had little to do with the Jane Austen I knew and loved. Unlike writer Tanya Gold, I do appreciate a good bio-pic on writers and artists – or at least want to – I just can’t think of any!!! Can anyone remind me of what I have forgotten? Which movies do you fondly remember that did not spoil your vision of what one of your fav’s life should be? I am hard pressed for an example!

Cheers, Laurel Ann, Austenprose

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death. - John Keats


Listen to a wonderful reading of this poem by Samuel West at this link.


It is 1818 and John Keats, 23, begins a secret love affair with Fanny Brawne, his next door neighbor. The film, which is coming out in theaters this fall and is set in the Regency era, has received rave reviews, especially for Abbie Cornish. Jane Campion (The Piano), directed.
Posted by Vic, Jane Austen's World