My Jane Austen Tattoo: A Story

Behind every tattoo is a story. So, here is mine:

It was my first week in London. I was miserable. I had left my family and friends to study abroad, thousands of miles away from home, not knowing a soul. But I needed to do this for myself. To prove to that I could be independent, and maybe discover a little bit more about myself along the way. However, needless to say I was lonely and crying to parents that I wanted to come home the first night I got there. I didn’t know how I was going to survive and be happy for the four months that I was there. But I knew I needed to suck it up and try to make the best of the situation. I mean, I was living in one of the most famous and amazing cities in the world! Not to mention I was only an hour’s train ride away from Jane Austen’s house in Chawton. All I needed to do was to get out and occupy myself in order to make the most of this experience.

Every day that week the study abroad group that I was with had something planned for us to do, until the weekend. During the nights that I just couldn’t sleep, because I was either too lonely or the goons upstairs were playing loud techno music, I would go online and look up places that I wanted to visit and how to get there (public transportation being pretty easy in the UK). I knew that once Saturday came I needed to get out and do something and the Jane Austen House was where I wanted to go. Saturday came and words cannot describe how excited I was to see where my favorite author lived and wrote some of the world’s greatest novels. I was finally going to one of the places I had dreamed about visiting for a long time. In some ways going to the Jane Austen House was like a pilgrimage for me. Thus, to say that I am obsessed with Jane Austen is an understatement.

I took a train from London to Alton, and I got a cab from the train station to the Jane Austen House. After reading about Jane Austen’s life and seeing pictures of her home, I was finally there and it was beautiful and better than I had imagined. It was just amazing to be in the same room and witness the same desk that Jane wrote Emma, Mansfield Park and Persuasion. I didn’t want to leave. But of course I had to in order to make sure I didn’t miss the train back to London. Instead of taking a cab back to the train station, I decided to walk through the town of Alton. Along my walk through the town I spotted cute little shops including a second hand bookstore with Jane books displayed in the window. Since, I had already spent a lot of money at the Jane Austen House gift shop, I decided to skip going into the bookstore. However, a few minutes later I spotted a place where I just might spend the rest of my money. A small building with a sign labeled “Tattoo.”

I stood in front of the tattoo parlor contemplating, “To get a tattoo or not to get a tattoo.” I opened my wallet to  check how much money I had left. If I was going to get a tattoo it would just be a small one so it wouldn’t cost that much, would it? I stepped into the parlor and asked one of the tattoo artists how much they charged. Fifty pounds per hour. Not bad. I told him I was interested in getting a tattoo that day and that I knew what I wanted to get. The silhouette portrait of Jane Austen. He asked me if I had a picture and I said no, but that I could definitely find one on the internet. Unfortunately, the parlor didn’t have internet connection. So, I thought my journey of getting a tattoo was over; but for some reason I was determined. I remembered on my walk through the town passing the second hand bookstore. I figured they must have a Jane Austen book with the silhouette portrait that I wanted to get. And, believe it or not, they had just what I was looking for. The silhouette was pictured on the back cover of Lord David Cecil’s biography of Jane Austen. With book in hand, I triumphantly walked back to the tattoo parlor to get my tattoo. Lucky for me, the tattoo artist had just enough time to fit me in before another appointment.

I was nervous and excited. I couldn’t believe that I was doing this. The tattoo artist asked me where I wanted it and so I picked my upper back, by my shoulder blade on the right side. Once I sat in the chair there was no turning back. I wasn’t sure how much it was going to hurt and braced myself for pain. But, once he started, it wasn’t as painful as I was expecting. So, here I was, in England, less than a mile away from Jane Austen’s house getting a tattoo of her silhouette on my back, something that would be on my skin forever. A permanent souvenir. A memorial and homage to a woman that is my hero and who I truly admire.

Virginia Woolf Challenge #2: Night and Day

I was surprised to find after reading an Introduction to Night and Day, that this particular novel has never been really well received. It’s one of Virginia Woolf’s longer works, but still just as entertaining, poetic, and exploratory as The Waves or To the Lighthouse. Published in 1918, Night and Day was Woolf’s second published novel after The Voyage Out. Woolf had written many essays and shorter works previously, but never a full novel. So, why does Night and Day have such a bad reputation? Some critics have called it boring, and even Woolf had some disparaging remarks for her own work. But, as for me, I truly did enjoy this novel.

Night and Day is a story about finding love. The novel centers mainly around Katherine, who finds herself caught in the middle between two men who love her, William Rodney and Ralph Denham. Set in Post WWI London, Night and Day is considered as a modern novel and certainly expresses modern ideologies and views (especially in terms of the exploration of women’s roles). Katherine is at a juxtaposition in her life. She wants to be independent but at the same time encounters uncontrollable feelings and attachment towards Ralph Denham. So, does Katherine choose a life of independence, or can she marry Denham and have independence at the same time?

This idea is also explored through the character of Mary Datchett. Like Virginia Woolf, Mary works for the Suffragist Movement. Highly educated and independent, Mary feels as if she is missing something in her life, and that is love. Mary ultimately discovers that she loves Denham, but does he love her? And is Mary really fit for domestic life? Or is her work her true love, in that it makes her truly happy?

So, although a simple plot setting of love and marriage, Night and Day is more complex than that. Virginia Woolf, in Night and Day, I feel hearkens the wit and intricacies that can be traced in Jane Austen’s novels. And like Austen’s novels, there is such rich and symbolic dialogue. The dialogue in this novel, I believe, really sucked me into the story. Also, Woolf’s descriptions of the city of London are vibrant and so descriptive. Made me miss London I must say.

Overall, I would highly recommend this book. Don’t listen to any other reviews either. Night and Day isn’t boring or tedious; rather, it is of true Virginia Woolf style–genius.

Death and Mrs. Dalloway

Mrs. Dalloway is a fifty two year old woman living in London. It’s June and five years after the end of World War I. The Dalloways are hosting a party, and as Mrs. Dalloway ventures onto the streets of London to by flowers for the party, all hell breaks loose. Well, not really. Virginia Woolf’s narration delves into the inner thoughts and reflections of Clarissa Dalloway.  I had some difficulty with this book at first. Woolf writes in a stream of consciousness that can be confusing. Every sentence is well crafted, significant, and full of meaning. That is how Virginia Woolf works. Each sentence is like a brush stroke in a painting, creating the overall effect that Woolf intends for us to see and interpret.

So, did I like Mrs. Dalloway?  Yes and no. I have read To the Lighthouse and I loved it, and in tackling Mrs. Dalloway I thought that I would enjoy it. Having recently been to London, I was familiar with the atmosphere of London that Woolf scrupulously describes in the novel. When Woolf mentioned Big Ben, Whitehall, St. Jame’s Park, the Strand, etc. I could say “I’ve been there!” which for some reason I find exciting. However, I was not as engaged in the story as I was while reading To the Lighthouse. Yes, Mrs. Dalloway is a masterpiece, and Woolf’s genius in writing is worth the read alone; but, I guess I just didn’t like Clarissa Dalloway herself. Clarissa grew up in the lap of luxury, but as a woman, feels stifled by her only role as a wife and a mother. As a young girl, Clarissa dreamed of making a difference in the world, but at fifty two those dreams are dead. However, Clarissa continues to “go with the flow” even though she can sense her impending doom that is mortality and death.

Death. A major focus of the novel. Not only does Clarissa contemplate her mortality, but so does the city of London as they are still recovering from a war that has effected millions of young men. One of these men we meet. Septimus is a World War I veteran, and is suffering from shell shock. His experiences in war haunt his daily life. Septimus’s character represents a contrasting figure to Clarissa Dalloway. Unlike Clarissa, who is concerned about death but moves on, Septimus is consumed by death and is ultimately unable to move on. SPOILER ALERT! Septimus eventually kills himself by throwing himself out of a window. It is important to keep in mind, also, that all of these events take place within the same day. So as Clarissa continues with planning her party, Septimus is suffering, along with the thousands of other war torn men in London.

There is also Peter Walsh. Once, and still is, in love with Clarissa Dalloway. Having moved to India, married, divorced, Peter Walsh returns to London unfulfilled. We learn of Peter Walsh’s memories, and because of Peter Walsh we explore Clarissa Dalloway’s memories. The novel ends through Peter Walsh’s view of Clarissa. Why? I don’t know. It was one of the discussion questions at the end of the book. But, I can quess. Maybe we see Clarissa through Peter Walsh because Peter Walsh is a reminder of Clarissa’s past. And Clarissa’s past is creeping up on her as she reflects throughout the novel on her life and impending death. Clarissa is conflicted. Her past conflicts with her present. Should she have married her Richard? Did Clarissa loose a part of herself when she married and had a child?

One day. Nothing can be resolved. What has Clarissa realized? How will her life end? Nothing is certain, and that is why the novel is so resonant, and slightly depressing.

So what can I say in closing? Just read the book for yourself. There are so many more things I could talk about and discuss, but I have no one to discuss it with. Therefore, these are just a few musings that I had while reading the novel.

Picturing London: A Journey

My time here in London has come to an end. It is a bitter-sweet ending. From the stresses of riding the Tube during rush hour, to walking the streets and viewing the magnificent buildings and lovely gardens; London will always hold special meaning to me. London truly is a wonderful city. Steeped in history, yet modern and innovative. A cultural epicenter of the world, and my home for a mere four months. I set out to try and capture the London that I experienced on film, which was a rather daunting task. But the pictures that I took will forever reflect a London that I had come to know and love.

Bright Star: A Hampstead Romance

Bright Star, would I were as steadfast 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.

I recently ventured to Hampstead, a little outside of the City of London, to visit Wentworth Place, or, as it is now known now as the Keats House. Poet John Keats lived at Wentworth Place for a brief time (1818-1820). It was during this time that Keats wrote some of his most famous poems, including ‘Ode to a Nightingale’ and it is also where he met, fell in love,  and became engaged to Fanny Brawne. However, Keats’ and Brawnes’ relationship was short lived as Keats passed away at the age of 25 to Tuberculosis. Recently, a film was made by Jane Campion, Bright Star, chronicling the romance of both Keats and Brawne. Below is a closer look at Keats’ relationship with Brawne, in which Keats produced some of the most famous and romantic love letters ever written.

In 1818 Fanny Brawne lived with her mother and two younger siblings at Wentworth Place, having rented out rooms from a Mr. Brown. It was at Wentworth Place that the Brawne family met and became friends with those who were well acquainted with Keats, during a time in which Keats and Brown were away in Scotland. Although once returned from Scotland, and having just met Fanny Brawne, Keats’ thoughts were rather distracted as his brother, Tom, was dying of Tuberculosis. Keats remained at his brother’s side, until his passing on December 1st.

Grieved of his brother’s death, Fanny Brawne created a lively distraction for Keats. He became enamored of her beauty and her personality. It only took a short amount of time for Keats to become completely wrapped up in Fanny’s charms. In 1819, Keats began writing Fanny sonnets, praising her appearance and character, among which is the famous ‘Bright Star.’ It is during his time that Keats was with Fanny that his poetry matured, as he experienced a strong and powerful love. And despite the fact that Keats was poor and an unsuitable match for Fanny, Fanny couldn’t help but fall in love. But Keats was determined to make money through publishing his poetry in order to marry the woman that he loved.

In 1820, things took a turn for the worse, as Keats had his first lung hemorrhage. Brown took care of Keats diligently, attempting to keep Fanny away from Keats, as he did not like Brawne. Due to Keats’ financial woes, he was forced to move out of Wentworth Place. Although only a mile away from Hampstead, Keats could not bear the separation from Fanny, and Keats only continued to get worse. It was during this time that Keats published a book of his poetry to favorable reviews. However, there was still little hope for Keats’ full recovery from his illness.

Keats’ friends suggested that he journey to Italy for his health, yet, Keats felt as if he would never return. A letter meant for Keats, outlining the state of his health, was accidentally opened by Fanny. This incident brought Keats back to Hampstead where he spent a happy month with the Brawne family. During this month Keats and Fanny fell deeper into love, only to be parted, unknowingly forever.

Keats departed for Italy in September of 1820 and arrived in Rome in November. It was evident in Keats’ letters that Fanny was always on his mind. And it was in Rome that Keats sent Fanny letters containing the most powerful profusions of  a devoted and steadfast love. However, it was in 1821 that Keats passed away, never having seen Fanny again. But, Keats’ letters and poems remained alive in Fanny’s heart, as she held onto Keats’ letters her entire life.

My dearest Girl,

This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair.  I cannot proceed with any degree of content.  I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time.  Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else – The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life – My love has made me selfish.  I cannot exist without you – I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again – my Life seems to stop there – I see no further.  You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving – I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you.  I should be afraid to separate myself far from you.  My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change?  My love, will it?  I have no limit now to my love – You note came in just here – I cannot be happier away from you – ‘T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles.  Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder’d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr’d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you.  My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet – You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.”  I can do that no more – the pain would be too great – My Love is selfish – I cannot breathe without you.

Yours for ever
John Keats

Poems of the Underground

The Tube in London is flooded with advertisements, but amongst the valuable ad spaces are true works of art. Here are a few that I saw while underground. There are many more poems that you can check out on the link to the right, and posters of each poem are sold at the London Transport Museum. The poems are an eclectic mix of old and new. So, if you are on the Tube, take a moment and look around you instead of staring blankly at the person sitting across from you.

Here too are dreaming landscapes,

lunar derelict.

Here too are the masses,

tillers of the soil.

And cells, fighters

who lay down their lives

for a song.

Here too are cemeteries,

fame and snow

And I hear murmuring,

the revolt of immense estates.

To See a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour.

Austen’s Women: A Review

Descending the stairs to the tiny Basement theatre in Leicester Square, I was unsure of what I was about to experience. Having never seen a one- woman show, I was curious as to how the performance would be executed. Upon entering the tiny blackbox theatre, I viewed Rebecca Vaughan sitting at a writing desk dressed in a Regency corset and robe, writing with a quill pen and ink. I took my seat in the front row, and every now and then I noticed Vaughan looking up from her writing smirking, as if holding a secret that only her writing revealed. The lights dimmed and a spotlight descended upon Vaughan as she looked up from her writing, glancing at each of us in the audience with an endearing smirk. “Gentleman!” She announces directly to the only male in the audience, which gathered more than a few laughs. Vaughan then begins in brilliantly executing Anne Elliot’s famous speech declaring the constancy of woman’s affections. Vaughan brought a liveliness and an eagerness to Anne’s (Austen’s really) words, captivating the audience in her first sentences. And it is then that our Narrator introduces herself, and proceeds to embark on an exploration and insight into the women of Austen’s novels, mainly through Austen’s words themselves.

Who can forget Lizzy Bennet’s fiery and passionate words towards Darcy after his botched and almost unforgiving proposal? Vaughan brought a new life to Lizzy Bennet’s words. Lizzy Bennet’s astonishment was everywhere present in Vaughan’s performance, and in each sentence, her anger and exasperation was rising, to the point where Vaughan’s face was bright red and her lungs quickly running out of breath. I was completely entranced. I felt every ounce of Lizzy’s frustration and anger towards Darcy.

From there, Vaughan embarked on a cavalcade of  stunning performances of Marianne Dashwood, Mrs. Norris, Miss Bates, Mary Musgrove, Catherine Morland, Emma Woodhouse, Fanny Dashwood, Diana Parker, Harriet Smith, Mrs. Elton, Elizabeth Watson and Mary Stanhope. Vaughan’s performances of each character were everything that a Jane Austen fan would expect. And it is a testament to Vaughan’s outstanding performance skills to pull off embodying each character!

Of course out of the many memorable characters Jane Austen has created, Vaughan couldn’t have possibly performed them all. However, the arrangement was clever in that the performance encompassed a variety of emotions, an homage to Jane Austen’s genius in the formation of true character representations.

I would have liked to see Fanny Price, Mary Crawford, Mrs Bennet, Jane Bennet, but I am not complaining. Vaughan’s performance left me with a smile on my face. The simplicity of the set, and the intimacy of the theatre gave the audience a front row seat for a performance that brought Jane Austen’s words to life.  Austen’s Women was testament to Jane Austen’s brilliant mind and novels.

Unfortunately, Austen’s Women is only running for a short time in Leicester Square, until May 9. Hopefully, Vaughan will tour with this magnificent piece… possibly to America?