Emma, Feed Mr. Wickham to the Pigs

Lately, my wife and I have watched a few movie adaptations of Jane Austen books – “Emma” and “Pride and Prejudice” in particular. I feel comfortable with all four of my readers so I feel I can share something with you:

I love Jane Austen stories. I giggle like a schoolgirl when I know one of the movies is coming on. Something about watching rich, unmarried, uptight people really resonates with me. Naturally, I don’t mention this love in public. Other guys just wouldn’t understand.

But here’s the secret. All guys love Jane Austen. Guys love Jane Austen stories so much that HBO came up with “Deadwood” – which is exactly like a Jane Austen story but a little better because there are guns and Mr. Knightly is always calling Mr. Wickham a “c*&ks$ck#r.”

And he’s right. Wickham is a “c*&ks$ck#r.” He married Elizabeth’s younger sister, Lydia, only because Mr. Darcy bribed him in order to prevent shame and humiliation from descending on the Bennett family. Secretly, Mr. Darcy loves Elizabeth.

Ahem.

I find, too, that adding some Jane Austen-like language to our daily life provides a little flavor to otherwise mundane conversations. The other day, for instance, I ran across my wife just as I left the bathroom.

“It is my earnest endeavor,” I said, “to demean myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship. And in performing those rites and ceremonies of marriage caution the lady against premature passage through pernicious doors.”

She looked at me for a moment. “Does that mean you stunk up the bathroom and I shouldn’t go in there?”

“Indeed,” I said.

Jane Austen, rest easy. Grim Richard has your back.