Austen in August; Book Review – Georgiana Darcy’s Diary By Anne Elliott

The are many different takes on the classic Pride & Prejudice, the story has been revamped with zombies, vampires and other variations but this is one of my favourites so far.

It has been a year since the wedding and Elizabeth is now firmly established in her new home at Pemberley.  It is now Georgiana who takes up her pen and through her journal continues the search for love.

Many pf the characters from the original novel feature in this wonderful novel, while the wit does not quite match that of Austen it comes very close, and at times you can almost believe that Austen herself has played a hand in the decisions the author has made for the characters.

I really am torn here in reviewing this book because I really do believe all Austen lovers should read it for themselves and I don’t want to spoil it.

Lets see what can I tell you, well after her failed attempts to fix Darcy up with her daughter Lady Katherine has taken up residence at Pemberley and is now trying to arrange a match for Georgiana, the painfully shy girl struggles to hold potential suitors at arms length while harbouring a secret love which she believes will not be fulfilled.

Georgiana comes alive in this book, at times you cannot help but smile at her naiviety but it is a realistic reflection of a girl of her position and status and the difficulties her situation places her in.

The dastardly Wickham also puts in an appearance can a leopard have changed his spots… of course not if anything the marriage between Elizabeth and Darcy has angered him more and his sense of entitlement has grown as he know demands payment for his silence regarding the affair between him and Georgiana.

There is so much more I could go on to say but I shall not, instead I leave you with a quote and a recommendation to Austen lovers to buy this book and read it for your selves. The excerpt comes after Aunt De Bourgh realises one of the potential suitors she had lined up has been rejected

     Aunt De Bourgh read me a little lecture on the subject yesterday evening, of which the words feckless, hoydenish behaviour were the mildest terms she used to describe what I had done.

Since she usually lectures me for being too shy, I could have pointed out that I can’t be a wallflower and a hoyden, both.  but I doubt it would have served any purpose except to make her angrier still.

And as much as I may indeed despise myself for my cowardice, my hands felt clammy at the thought of prolonging the scene with her.