Another entry in Jane Austen-related books, this one a modern version of Sense and Sensibility, with the point of view characters switching between Jane (the middle sister, based on Marianne), and Callum, who is the Colonel Brandon character, which makes it clear that this retelling is more of a romance than social satire with some weddings.
The social satire really isn’t there at all, though there are many other elements to enjoy in this sometimes on-the-nose retelling. Celia, the elder sister, is very much like Elinor, though Jane is not at all like Marianne in that she doesn’t like or trust sentiment, and even when she falls head over heels in love with Sean (the Willoughby character) she still isn’t into hearts and flowers talk.
The author gets rid of the mother altogether, and keeps the father alive but strictly off-scene, living abroad after being caught in financial scams. He pretty much abandoned his daughters, who band together tightly, at first opening a tea shop in San Francisco, and when the owner’s heirs boot them out (these are the Fanny and John Dashwood characters), they move to Austin, Texas, where a cousin has offered them a guest house as they try to recoup to start all over again.
They meet Sean on the road, and he comes to the rescue, settling us into the familiar plot as we get to meet Ian, the genuinely nice cousin who is the Sir John Middleton character, and his prickly, cold wife Mariah, and Nina, Mariah’s warm, friendly mother.
Things I enjoyed: the relationship between the sisters. Even when Celia wasn’t talking to Jane they still stuck by each other, and Margot, the teen, was particularly well done.
My favorite was Callum Beckett, who was recently discharged after a devastating incident in which he lost a leg; he woke up to discover his father had died, and he was now expected to take over the family business.
Sean, the Willoughby character, is a rock star, an interesting choice.
I also really liked the tea shop aspect, as Jane gets into baking sweets and mixing teas.
Things that didn’t work as well: the Steele sisters were conflated into one, Lyndsay, who is introduced promisingly, but pretty much vanishes except to be reported on as the plot needs. Too bad—Lucy Steele’s sharp eyes, and her sister’s ridiculousness, are some of my favorite passages in S&S, and we didn’t get any of the household upset when Nancy Steele admits to the Dashwoods that Lucy is engaged to Edward. Nor do we see the tough position that Lyndsay/Lucy puts Celia/Elinor in with her ‘relationship’ with Teddy/Edward. The scene between the sisters when Celia tells Jane what she’s been hiding has little impact, unlike the similar scene in S&S when Marianne begins to understand that yes, Elinor feels too, she keeps it inside while watching out for everyone else, unlike Marianne, who expects the world to fall in with her emotional excesses.
The Dashwood replacements pretty much disappear, too, except for off-stage mentions that serve the plot.
Teddy is the Edward character, and he’s equally wishy-washy, bringing me to the next observation. The book was published by a Christian house, but I wonder if the story was edited for a mainstream audience. Teddy does opt for seminary at the end, and Ian quietly says grace before meals, but otherwise there isn’t any faith or church-going in sight—nor is there on-stage sex. (There is still the subplot about the unfortunate girl ruined by Willoughby/Sean and rescued by the Colonel/Callum, which was pretty well handled.) So the story doesn’t quite fit either model, but floats somewhere in between, which sometimes make it feel slightly out of focus, though Austen’s plot pulls the events steadily along.
Overall it was an entertaining, fast read, ending with smiles all around.
Copy provided by publisher