Despite a degree in English and several classes on Western/British literature, I've never finished a single Brontë or Jane Austen book. I relied on CliffsNotes, yellow and black summary booklets that save countless American college students.
Older now, but none the wiser about British literature, I had a chance last night to ask author Soniah Kamal about Austen's pull on so many women, especially intelligent, highly educated ones from affluent families. Her response was brilliant, rendering me able to understand Austen's allure for the first time--a feat none of my college professors managed.
Kamal began by explaining Austen isn't about romance, but about social satire. More specifically, Austen used her pen to mock everyone, especially the upper classes. It's important to remember Austen grew up in a time when options were limited because of her gender. "Keeping up appearances" was vital for women to gain comfortable lives through their most straightforward avenue: marriage, a one-shot deal due to divorce being rare or available only in ways making wives destitute.
Sadly, in Austen's time, women's dependence on men, whether brother or stranger, was almost total. Existing laws mandated inheritance to male heirs, so a father with three daughters and no sons would likely pass his entire estate to a male cousin--no matter how distant. To summarize, women's chastity and behavior were linked to familial reputation, which in turn was necessarily conservative because a lack of economic opportunities, coupled with sexist laws, buried women alive under social constraints. (My crude belief that the Brontë sisters and Jane Austen suffered from an inability to achieve orgasms, causing them to transfer their Victorian passion into literary dramas now seems grossly unfair. We can also see how such strict norms led to other injustices, most notably in the area of race relations, but that's another topic.)
Kamal's approach is unique in that she recognizes such social constraints also buried men, who may not have wanted to support a family or even to get married. (Note Jane Eyre's Edward Rochester character, who was tricked into a bad marriage.) Kamal's multi-faceted explanation also helps us understand why Austen's modern-day audience tends to be affluent and educated, despite Austen herself being neither royalty (e.g., a Lady) nor rich. Though she wrote about what she knew, a scope neglecting the working classes, the quality making Austen's writing timeless is her recognition that marriage and "high society" involve appearances for the sake of social inclusion--and, more importantly, that such status can be lost with a single poor choice. (See "Bag Lady syndrome.")
These themes of social inclusion and social mobility based on superficial traits mean every time someone buys a Louis Vuitton wallet or a Birkin bag, s/he's bringing Austen to life. When we watch Carrie Bradshaw buying a pair of imported Manolos, Austen is lurking in the background, waiting to pounce. Considering that most first marriages, even today, occur at a very young age and are therefore dependent in large part on familial support and reputation, Austen's work seems less outdated. Indeed, it's more accurate to say her muse midwifes itself from rebellion against social repression and constraints rather than Victorian-era sexual mores. Given the universality of youthful rebellion in the context of strict parents, Kamal joked that Austen didn't realize she was Pakistani, Bangladeshi, and perhaps even Italian.
Let's talk about Soniah Kamal. My first impression was a woman once constrained by social norms, now ready to let loose--but in a manner befitting her social stature. Kamal, born in Pakistan and raised in London and Saudi Arabia, where she attended an international school, won't be seen anywhere near a dive bar, but her alligator skin shoes and colorful dress and scarf tell you she wants to be seen. And yet, I never once saw a prurient quality in her. Observing a photo after taking one with a fan, she decided it didn't meet her standards and told the photographer to "stand up" and try again. The photographer obliged.
Incredibly, Kamal wrote her latest book, Unmarriageable (2019), a fusion of Pakistani culture and Jane Austen, in two months. She advises aspiring writers, often told to picture their audience that "There is no audience. You are your audience--write what interests you."
Fans of Austen are familiar with a surfeit of emotion hidden under prim surfaces, and Kamal sheds tears easily. Waterworks occurred when she discussed a reader's poignant note; the unexpected revelation some people were using her book as a gateway to Jane Austen, her original inspiration; and two other instances. Despite my newfound respect for Austen's desire to give her characters more agency on the page than they had in real life, I won't be reading Austen's books. There are too many interesting female writers today, including G. Willow Wilson (The Butterfly Mosque), Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Michelle de Kretser (The Life to Come), Zadie Smith and, yes, Soniah Kamal.
Older now, but none the wiser about British literature, I had a chance last night to ask author Soniah Kamal about Austen's pull on so many women, especially intelligent, highly educated ones from affluent families. Her response was brilliant, rendering me able to understand Austen's allure for the first time--a feat none of my college professors managed.
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| Soniah Kamal with interviewer Rebecca Richardson |
Sadly, in Austen's time, women's dependence on men, whether brother or stranger, was almost total. Existing laws mandated inheritance to male heirs, so a father with three daughters and no sons would likely pass his entire estate to a male cousin--no matter how distant. To summarize, women's chastity and behavior were linked to familial reputation, which in turn was necessarily conservative because a lack of economic opportunities, coupled with sexist laws, buried women alive under social constraints. (My crude belief that the Brontë sisters and Jane Austen suffered from an inability to achieve orgasms, causing them to transfer their Victorian passion into literary dramas now seems grossly unfair. We can also see how such strict norms led to other injustices, most notably in the area of race relations, but that's another topic.)
Kamal's approach is unique in that she recognizes such social constraints also buried men, who may not have wanted to support a family or even to get married. (Note Jane Eyre's Edward Rochester character, who was tricked into a bad marriage.) Kamal's multi-faceted explanation also helps us understand why Austen's modern-day audience tends to be affluent and educated, despite Austen herself being neither royalty (e.g., a Lady) nor rich. Though she wrote about what she knew, a scope neglecting the working classes, the quality making Austen's writing timeless is her recognition that marriage and "high society" involve appearances for the sake of social inclusion--and, more importantly, that such status can be lost with a single poor choice. (See "Bag Lady syndrome.")
These themes of social inclusion and social mobility based on superficial traits mean every time someone buys a Louis Vuitton wallet or a Birkin bag, s/he's bringing Austen to life. When we watch Carrie Bradshaw buying a pair of imported Manolos, Austen is lurking in the background, waiting to pounce. Considering that most first marriages, even today, occur at a very young age and are therefore dependent in large part on familial support and reputation, Austen's work seems less outdated. Indeed, it's more accurate to say her muse midwifes itself from rebellion against social repression and constraints rather than Victorian-era sexual mores. Given the universality of youthful rebellion in the context of strict parents, Kamal joked that Austen didn't realize she was Pakistani, Bangladeshi, and perhaps even Italian.
Let's talk about Soniah Kamal. My first impression was a woman once constrained by social norms, now ready to let loose--but in a manner befitting her social stature. Kamal, born in Pakistan and raised in London and Saudi Arabia, where she attended an international school, won't be seen anywhere near a dive bar, but her alligator skin shoes and colorful dress and scarf tell you she wants to be seen. And yet, I never once saw a prurient quality in her. Observing a photo after taking one with a fan, she decided it didn't meet her standards and told the photographer to "stand up" and try again. The photographer obliged.
Incredibly, Kamal wrote her latest book, Unmarriageable (2019), a fusion of Pakistani culture and Jane Austen, in two months. She advises aspiring writers, often told to picture their audience that "There is no audience. You are your audience--write what interests you."
© Matthew Mehdi Rafat (2019)
Bonus I: "For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?" -- Jane Austen
Bonus II: from Kwame Appiah's The Lies that Bind (2018), on Jane Eyre:
Bonus I: "For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?" -- Jane Austen
Bonus II: from Kwame Appiah's The Lies that Bind (2018), on Jane Eyre:
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