As part of my campaign to read classics of literature as an adult (thank you bargain bins at Borders and Barnes and Noble!), I've just completed Northanger Abbey and am in the middle of reading Mansfield Park, both by Jane Austen.

My reaction to both books couldn't be more different.

Northanger Abbey cracked my shit up to no end. I'm talking wall-to-wall giggling because, get this, everyone who's ever been involved with any kind of fandom knows Catherine Morland, her wanky friend Isabella Thorpe, and the laid-back reality-based fans represented by the Tileneys.

( Northanger Abbey: So that's what 19th Century Fangirls looked like! )

Seriously, though. If you want to read the funniest depiction of fangirls and fandom in general that you'll ever read, as well as a heartwarming story about how even the most awkward fangirl can grow up to be a real a person while still being a fan, Northanger Abbey is the go-to book.


Mansfield Park, on the other hand, is a bit of a mystery to me. I'm really not entirely sure what Austen is going for here, although it could be because I'm only 70 pages into the book. It's...irritating me, despite the fact that I can't seem to put it down.

( Mansfield Park: Ms. Austen tells those damn kids to get off her lawn. I think. )

I'm choosing to assume that there's a twist here, or Austen is making some kind of point how the landed gentry aren't really all that. At least I hope so. If I read to the end of the book and Fanny is still a special little snowflake, I might be tempted to throw Mansfield Park across the room out of sheer disgust.

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