Once again, I get overly worked up about books

I am having a dilemma. Even a personal crisis, if you'll allow me to have my dramarama. Here it is. Are you ready for it?

I like Pride and Prejudice.

Oh, no! Not the novel. I still think the way Jane Austen writes sucks rocks, and there is so much banality in her novels that I cannot stand to read them (and yet I've read 3--only one was of my own volition. But honestly, how could I love Clueless so hard without reading the book upon which it was based? That would be a violation of everything I stand for). However. I love the story; I love the characters--mostly, I love the way it was all brought to life in the most recent film adaptation. (Do not accuse me of liking it because there are several pretty girls in it. It is true that there were, but you insult me by thinking that was the only attraction.)

Here's the thing. Jane Austen, in the midst of all that boring writing, knew how to create a compelling story. And I certainly would have fallen in love with Elizabeth Bennet if I'd met her. (And not just because she looks like Keira Knightley now in my head. Stop insulting me!) But the film version made it all playful and touching and charming, while I just found the novel largely stultifying. Clueless did the same thing to Emma. The plot of Emma is brilliant. The plot of Pride and Prejudice is indeed quite entertaining if you don't have to read it.

I hate to say it, but seriously. In this case, reading was a chore. A CHORE! How dare you make reading a chore, Ms. Austen, when you have such a fun story about interesting characters to tell? I will never forgive you for that.

The other important part of Pride and Prejudice, the part about women's rights that was the only thing about the novel I liked, is more or less lost in the film. Of course there's the mention of how Mr. Collins will inherit the Bennet estate, because the women can't under English law, but that's about it, really.

Anyway, I was having this crisis, because I was wondering if the fact that I liked the movie so much meant I should re-read the novel. A terrifying thought to be sure. Because the thing that bugged me the most about the novel was all the evidence that these people don't do anything. They talk about boring things and play cards and walk around and moon over men, and they don't do anything worthwhile. And I know that's what it was like for people of their class in England at the turn of the 19th century. I know that. You think I don't know that? I was an English major. I know that better than you do. (Unless you were an English major, too. In which case, we probably know it the same amount.) That doesn't mean I want to read 400 pages of it. It's the same thing that killed Emma. In the movies, you get no sense of this, because movies aren't supposed to have time to get boring. Clueless is certainly never boring. And neither is this Pride & Prejudice--and I'm sorry, all you diehard Colin Firth freaks, but you'll have to tie me to a chair and prop my eyelids open with toothpicks to get me to sit through 6 hours of Pride and Prejudice. I have a feeling that version does not quite lose all the boring, do-nothing-ness of the book.

So, crisis averted, I think. I have effectively talked myself out of reading Pride and Prejudice again.

Update! Crisis totally not averted. I kind of need to read this novel again, so I can add some specific examples to this rant, because the pesky little English major in me kind of can't stand all the vaguery up there. Oh dear.