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Persuasion (Penguin Classics) Paperback – April 29, 2003
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At twenty-seven, Anne Elliot is no longer young and has few romantic prospects. Eight years earlier, she had been persuaded by her friend Lady Russell to break off her engagement to Frederick Wentworth, a handsome naval captain with neither fortune nor rank. What happens when they encounter each other again is movingly told in Jane Austen's last completed novel. Set in the fashionable societies of Lyme Regis and Bath, Persuasion is a brilliant satire of vanity and pretension, but, above all, it is a love story tinged with the heartache of missed opportunities.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
- Print length288 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherPenguin Classics
- Publication dateApril 29, 2003
- Reading age18 years and up
- Dimensions7.75 x 5 x 0.6 inches
- ISBN-100141439688
- ISBN-13978-0141439686
- Lexile measure1120L
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About the Author
GILLIAN BEER is King Edward Professor of English at the University of Cambridge and President of Clare Hall.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who,for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage;there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in adistressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration andrespect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents;there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairschanged naturally into pity and contempt. As he turned overthe almost endless creations of the last century—and there,if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own historywith an interest which never failed—this was the page at whichthe favourite volume always opened:
ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH HALL.
Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth,daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county ofGloucester, by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth,born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son,November 5, 1789; Mary, born November 20, 1791.
Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from the printer's hands;but Sir Walter had improved it by adding, for the information ofhimself and his family, these words, after the date of Mary's birth—"Married, Dec 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of CharlesMusgrove, Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset,"—and by inserting most accurately the day of the month on whichhe had lost his wife.
Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and respectable family,in the usual terms: how it had been first settled in Cheshire;how mentioned in Dugdale—serving the office of High Sheriff,representing a borough in three successive parliaments,exertions of loyalty, and dignity of baronet, in the first yearof Charles II, with all the Marys and Elizabeths they had married;forming altogether two handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding withthe arms and motto:"Principal seat, Kellynch Hall, in the countyof Somerset," and Sir Walter's hand-writing again in this finale:
"Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson ofthe second Sir Walter."
Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character;vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsomein his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man.Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did;nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted withthe place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beautyas inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot,who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respectand devotion.
His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his attachment;since to them he must have owed a wife of very superior characterto any thing deserved by his own. Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman,sensible and amiable; whose judgement and conduct, if they might bepardoned the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot,had never required indulgence afterwards.—She had humoured,or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his realrespectability for seventeen years; and though not the very happiestbeing in the world herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends,and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter ofindifference to her when she was called on to quit them. —Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacyfor a mother to bequeath; an awful charge rather, to confide tothe authority and guidance of a conceited, silly father.She had, however, one very intimate friend, a sensible, deserving woman,who had been brought, by strong attachment to herself, to settleclose by her, in the village of Kellynch; and on her kindness and advice,Lady Elliot mainly relied for the best help and maintenance ofthe good principles and instruction which she had been anxiouslygiving her daughters.
This friend, and Sir Walter, did not marry, whatever might have beenanticipated on that head by their acquaintance. —Thirteen yearshad passed away since Lady Elliot's death, and they were stillnear neighbours and intimate friends; and one remained a widower,the other a widow.
That Lady Russell, of steady age and character, and extremelywell provided for, should have no thought of a second marriage,needs no apology to the public, which is rather apt to be unreasonablydiscontented when a woman does marry again, than when she does not;but Sir Walter's continuing in singleness requires explanation.—Be it known then, that Sir Walter, like a good father, (having met withone or two private disappointments in very unreasonable applications)prided himself on remaining single for his dear daughters' sake.For one daughter, his eldest, he would really have given up any thing,which he had not been very much tempted to do. Elizabeth had succeeded,at sixteen, to all that was possible, of her mother's rightsand consequence; and being very handsome, and very like himself,her influence had always been great, and they had gone on togethermost happily. His two other children were of very inferior value.Mary had acquired a little artificial importance, by becomingMrs Charles Musgrove; but Anne, with an elegance of mind and sweetnessof character, which must have placed her high with any peopleof real understanding, was nobody with either father or sister;her word had no weight, her convenience was always to give way;—she was only Anne.
To Lady Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and highly valuedgod-daughter, favourite, and friend. Lady Russell loved them all;but it was only in Anne that she could fancy the mother to revive again.
A few years before, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl,but her bloom had vanished early; and as even in its height,her father had found little to admire in her, (so totally differentwere her delicate features and mild dark eyes from his own);there could be nothing in them, now that she was faded and thin,to excite his esteem. He had never indulged much hope, he had now none,of ever reading her name in any other page of his favourite work.All equality of alliance must rest with Elizabeth; for Mary had merelyconnected herself with an old country family of respectability andlarge fortune, and had therefore given all the honour and received none:Elizabeth would, one day or other, marry suitably.
It sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine thanshe was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has beenneither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely anycharm is lost. It was so with Elizabeth, still the same handsomeMiss Elliot that she had begun to be thirteen years ago; and Sir Waltermight be excused, therefore, in forgetting her age, or, at least,be deemed only half a fool, for thinking himself and Elizabethas blooming as ever, amidst the wreck of the good looks of every body else;for he could plainly see how old all the rest of his family andacquaintance were growing. Anne haggard, Mary coarse, every facein the neighbourhood worsting; and the rapid increase of the crow's footabout Lady Russell's temples had long been a distress to him.
Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal contentment.Thirteen years had seen her mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding anddirecting with a self-possession and decision which could never have giventhe idea of her being younger than she was. For thirteen years hadshe been doing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at home,and leading the way to the chaise and four, and walking immediately afterLady Russell out of all the drawing-rooms and dining-rooms in the country.Thirteen winters' revolving frosts had seen her opening every ballof credit which a scanty neighbourhood afforded; and thirteen springsshewn their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with her father,for a few weeks' annual enjoyment of the great world. She hadthe remembrance of all this; she had the consciousness of beingnine-and-twenty to give her some regrets and some apprehensions.She was fully satisfied of being still quite as handsome as ever;but she felt her approach to the years of danger, and would have rejoicedto be certain of being properly solicited by baronet-blood withinthe next twelvemonth or two. Then might she again take upthe book of books with as much enjoyment as in her early youth,but now she liked it not. Always to be presented with the date ofher own birth and see no marriage follow but that of a youngest sister,made the book an evil; and more than once, when her father had left itopen on the table near her, had she closed it, with averted eyes,and pushed it away.
She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that book, and especially the history of her own family, must ever present the remembrance of. The heir presumptive, the very William Walter Elliot, Esq., whose rights had been so generously supported by her father, had disappointed her.
She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had known him to be,in the event of her having no brother, the future baronet,meant to marry him, and her father had always meant that she should.He had not been known to them as a boy; but soon after Lady Elliot's death, Sir Walter had sought the acquaintance, and though his overtureshad not been met with any warmth, he had persevered in seeking it,making allowance for the modest drawing-back of youth; and, in one oftheir spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in her first bloom, Mr Elliot had been forced into the introduction.
He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in the study of the law; and Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favour was confirmed. He was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked of and expected all the rest of the year; but he never came. The following spring he was seen again in town, found equally agreeable, again encouraged, invited, and expected, and again he did not come; and the next tidings were that he was married. Instead of pushing his fortune in the line marked out for the heir of the house of Elliot, he had purchased independence by uniting himself to a rich woman of inferior birth.
Sir Walter has resented it. As the head of the house, he felt thathe ought to have been consulted, especially after taking the young manso publicly by the hand: "For they must have been seen together,"he observed, "once at Tattersal's, and twice in the lobby ofthe House of Commons." His disapprobation was expressed, but apparently very little regarded. Mr Elliot had attempted no apology, and shewn himself as unsolicitous of being longer noticed by the family, as Sir Walter considered him unworthy of it: all acquaintance between them had ceased.
This very awkward history of Mr Elliot was still, after an intervalof several years, felt with anger by Elizabeth, who had liked the manfor himself, and still more for being her father's heir, and whosestrong family pride could see only in him, a proper match for Sir WalterElliot's eldest daughter. There was not a baronet from A to Z whomher feelings could have so willingly acknowledged as an equal.Yet so miserably had he conducted himself, that though she wasat this present time (the summer of 1814) wearing black ribbonsfor his wife, she could not admit him to be worth thinking of again.The disgrace of his first marriage might, perhaps, as there wasno reason to suppose it perpetuated by offspring, have been got over,had he not done worse; but he had, as by the accustomary interventionof kind friends, they had been informed, spoken most disrespectfullyof them all, most slightingly and contemptuously of the very bloodhe belonged to, and the honours which were hereafter to be his own.This could not be pardoned.
Such were Elizabeth Elliot's sentiments and sensations; such the caresto alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness and the elegance,the prosperity and the nothingness of her scene of life—such the feelings to give interest to a long, uneventful residence in one country circle, to fill the vacancies which there were no habitsof utility abroad, no talents or accomplishments for home, to occupy.
But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was beginning to beadded to these. Her father was growing distressed for money.She knew, that when he now took up the Baronetage, it was to drivethe heavy bills of his tradespeople, and the unwelcome hints ofMr Shepherd, his agent, from his thoughts. The Kellynch property was good, but not equal to Sir Walter's apprehension of the state requiredin its possessor. While Lady Elliot lived, there had been method,moderation, and economy, which had just kept him within his income;but with her had died all such right-mindedness, and from that periodhe had been constantly exceeding it. It had not been possiblefor him to spend less; he had done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliotwas imperiously called on to do; but blameless as he was, he wasnot only growing dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so often,that it became vain to attempt concealing it longer, even partially,from his daughter. He had given her some hints of it the last springin town; he had gone so far even as to say, "Can we retrench?Does it occur to you that there is any one article in whichwe can retrench?" —and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the firstardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done,and had finally proposed these two branches of economy: to cut offsome unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishingthe drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards addedthe happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne,as had been the usual yearly custom. But these measures,however good in themselves, were insufficient for the real extentof the evil, the whole of which Sir Walter found himself obligedto confess to her soon afterwards. Elizabeth had nothing to proposeof deeper efficacy. She felt herself ill-used and unfortunate,as did her father; and they were neither of them able to deviseany means of lessening their expenses without compromising their dignity, or relinquishing their comforts in a way not to be borne.
There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter could dispose of; but had every acre been alienable, it would have made no difference. He had condescended to mortgage as far as he had the power,but he would never condescend to sell. No; he would never disgracehis name so far. The Kellynch estate should be transmitted wholeand entire, as he had received it.
Their two confidential friends, Mr Shepherd, who lived in the neighbouring market town, and Lady Russell, were called to advise them; and both father and daughter seemed to expect that something should be struck out by one or the other to remove their embarrassmentsand reduce their expenditure, without involving the loss ofany indulgence of taste or pride.
Product details
- Publisher : Penguin Classics; Reissue edition (April 29, 2003)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 288 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0141439688
- ISBN-13 : 978-0141439686
- Reading age : 18 years and up
- Lexile measure : 1120L
- Item Weight : 7.5 ounces
- Dimensions : 7.75 x 5 x 0.6 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #20,306 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #619 in Regency Romances
- #759 in Classic Literature & Fiction
- #1,926 in Literary Fiction (Books)
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About the authors

Jane Austen was born on December 16, 1775 at Steventon near Basingstoke, the seventh child of the rector of the parish. She lived with her family at Steventon until they moved to Bath when her father retired in 1801. After his death in 1805, she moved around with her mother; in 1809, they settled in Chawton, near Alton, Hampshire. Here she remained, except for a few visits to London, until in May 1817 she moved to Winchester to be near her doctor. There she died on July 18, 1817. As a girl Jane Austen wrote stories, including burlesques of popular romances. Her works were only published after much revision, four novels being published in her lifetime. These are Sense and Sensibility (1811), Pride and Prejudice (1813), Mansfield Park (1814) and Emma(1816). Two other novels, Northanger Abbey and Persuasion, were published posthumously in 1818 with a biographical notice by her brother, Henry Austen, the first formal announcement of her authorship. Persuasion was written in a race against failing health in 1815-16. She also left two earlier compositions, a short epistolary novel, Lady Susan, and an unfinished novel, The Watsons. At the time of her death, she was working on a new novel, Sanditon, a fragmentary draft of which survives.

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The key word is ENJOY!
I ENJOY being alive. I ENJOY breathing the air. I ENJOY being able to sleep, to dream, to think, to write. I ENJOY reading books. And I especially ENJOY writing personally-revealing reviews of personally-revealing books that ignite the imagination and send the mind flying!
OK. OK. Enough about me. What about you?
Why might you want to read Jane Austen's "Persuasion"?
Why, to ENJOY the book of course!
OK. Very good. But why stop there? Why stop at the ENJOYMENT of reading the book? Why not let your mind go beyond the ENJOYMENT of reading the book? Why not keep going until you arrive at the ECSTASY of seeing, hearing, experiencing something imaginary, something ideal, something unreal, as if it were really happening right here, right now, in real life?
Sounds great! But how?
By bringing the book to life in your mind.
Yes. Yes. Yes. But how? How??
By seeing the 2007 movie “Persuasion,” starring Sally Hawkins and Rupert Penry-Jones, BEFORE reading the book. That's how.
I did see/hear the movie BEFORE I read the book. And I'm glad I did.
As I read the book, the movie kept coming back to life in my mind.
In addition, the book revealed -- in depth and in detail -- all of those seemingly minor thoughts, feelings, and incidents that did not make their way into the movie.
By means of the written word, a book can open a character's heart and mind to the reader. By means of voice-over, a movie can do the same kind of thing. But not to the EXTENT that a book can.
Be that as it may, whatever the movie may lack in such EXTENT is made up for, many times over, by the movie's astounding EFFECT.
Indeed, insofar as EFFECT goes, there is something in the movie that surpasses anything and everything in the book; in any other book I have ever read; and in any other movie I have ever seen.
That extraordinary "something" that I am raving about is the kiss scene. Not just the kiss, mind you. The scene!
(Not to mention the love letter -- and the race against time -- leading up to the kiss scene.)
In that kiss scene, a moment of time becomes an eternity of bliss. The infinity of space shrinks to nothing. Nothing except! Nothing except a small warm pocket of space wherein there is room enough for only two human beings, two people, a man and a woman, this man and this woman. Each is the whole world of the other.
What will become a kiss evolves and revolves between the two of them, binary stars, paired, gradually encircling one another, beyond the reach of all the universe that is not their own. It is just the two of them. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Try as I may, I cannot tell you in words. The book cannot tell you in words. You have to see the movie to believe it. Seeing it, hearing it, you will believe it, even though it is nothing but make-believe.
"Nothing but make-believe"??? What a thing to say!!!
As if make-believe were of little or no value. A next to nothing sort of thing. A waste of time! of money!! of life itself!!!
OK. OK. I stand corrected. How dare I down-talk make-believe!
Let me slow down here, stop, and ask myself a couple of questions:
1. What would thinking be like without the make-believe of imagination?
2. What would life be like without the make-believe of dreaming?
Those two questions have these two answers:
1. We cannot think without imagining.
2. Nor can we live without dreaming.
So, no more down-talking make-believe. Not by me anyway.
OK. Agreed.
Now that's settled, I can turn my back on things that do not interest me, and return to what does -- i.e., "Persuasion" : book and movie.
Much as I much prefer books to movies, the "Persuasion" movie of 2007 is exceptional. So exceptional that, if I had to choose one over the other, either the book or the movie, I would choose the movie.
By the grace of good fortune, however, I don't have to choose between the two. For, I have both: the movie and the book.
Each is excellent. Both are superb. And the two together are scintillatingly synergistic.
When push comes to shove, however, my mind must admit, and my heart must confess, that, to my way of thinking and feeling, the movie is even better than the book, simply because of the kiss scene.
That kiss scene is so good, so well done, so realistic, so believable, that I believe it to be real, even though it is make-believe.
Is believing in make-believe such a bad thing? I think not.
Speaking of thinking, consider this:
Once you have seen/heard the love letter, the race against time, the kiss scene, and the other scenes in the movie, you can replay them in your mind by conducting "search and enjoy" missions: just pick up the book; flip to the juiciest pages; and read to your heart's content.
What could be easier? What could be more enjoyable?? Certainly not the realities of everyday life. Ugh! Why get into that when you can get into this: a good book.
Author: Jane Austen
Read by: Juliet Stevenson
Publisher: Naxos Audiobook
Length: Approximately 8 hours and 43 minutes
Source: Purchased from Audible.
Persuasion is my favorite Jane Austen novel. It was published posthumously and was written at the end of Jane Austen’s life. The story is a story of second chances. Anne Elliot rejected the engagement from Frederick Wentworth eight years before. She loved the young Lieutenant Wentworth, but his wealth and consequence were not enough for her friends and family to think it a prudent marriage. She allowed herself to be persuaded out of the marriage. Now Wentworth is back as a wealthy Captain. The Elliot’s meanwhile have seen a decrease in their fortune and have to rent their estate out to Wentworth’s sister and brother-in-law while they take a house in Bath. Will they find their way back to each other?
I read Persuasion this month as it is the September book club selection for JASNA Wisconsin. I can’t wait to discuss it! I have reviewed Persuasion on this blog before as I love, love, love this book. This time I’m going to go over highlights and thoughts on had on my latest reread.
• Juliet Stevenson is a wonderful narrator. She was Mrs. Elliot in the 1996 version of Emma, and I have listened to her narrate other audiobooks in the past.
• I love thinking about this novel and how it was written at the end of Jane’s life. It makes me wonder, did she look back on life and have regrets perhaps of a love that she rejected? If only we had her missing letters!
• I love Austen’s characters. Their traits are still what we see in family, friends, and neighbors today from the preening and narcissism of Mr. Elliot to the hypochondriasis of Anne’s sister Mary.
• I love the description of Lyme Regis. Every time I listen to this book, it makes me want to visit and find Louisa’s wall.
• Louisa puzzles me and kind of makes me sad. I know she was young and impetuous, but it seems a lot to have a near death experience to take away her spirit and have her settle down.
• Speaking of Louisa, do you think Captain Wentworth ever had any feelings for her?
• I love Anne’s friend Mrs. Smith and her good-natured gossip. I love that Captain Wentworth helps her at the end to get what is due to her. It’s sad that without a male relative back in that era, you couldn’t get your finances settled.
• I wonder if Elizabeth Elliot every married. I can imagine her spending the rest of her days just wandering around Bath with her father.
• Wentworth’s letter is still the most romantic letter of all time.
• The ending is not nearly as long as Austen’s other novels. I wonder if she would have lived if this book would have been expanded at all.
• Where do you think Anne and Captain Wentworth ended up living? The movie versions have different ideas.
• What is your favorite movie version? I love the 1995 version. Are you looking forward to the new movie?
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