Revisiting Lost in Austen

I bit over two years ago I wrote within these pages about my first time watching Lost in Austen, Guy Andrews’ brilliant and pitch-perfect reboot of “Pride and Prejudice”. I am finding it to be even more gratifying upon second viewing, familiar as I now am with the fortuitous twists and turns of the plot.

I also find myself, for the moment, disposed to rejoice in the pleasurable cadences of Andrews’ recreation of Austen’s language, and the many and varied locutions by which the characters express themselves. It is indeed refreshing to visit, if only for the briefest of intervals, a period in the history of our fair English when even the most subtle indications of one’s inner thoughts were able to find expression in one’s words.

On the morrow, alas, I shall undoubtedly revert to our ruinous modern habit of abbreviated communication, of language stripped bare, of grievously monosyllabic utterances endlessly compromised by a sad reliance upon base cliché. Please forgive me, gentle readers, for allowing myself the pleasure, on this occasion, of indulging a rare and joyful celebration of our dear mother tongue, clothed in all her finery.

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