L'abbazia di Northanger (origineel 1818; editie 2001)

3.5/5

I suppose that it's a mark of maturity that I can no longer enjoy something without stepping back and asking "Yes, but what does it all mean?". Either that, or I'm taking this reviewing business way too seriously. Anyways.

This is the first novel that Austen composed, and it shows. Many of the ideas that she wishes to share with her readers are good ones, to be sure, but her delivery of them is not in a coherently fictional form. Much of it felt as if the reader was being led around a science fair exhibit or artistic diorama by an overenthusiastic child; there was much to smile at, but not much to sink ones teeth into. It must also be taken into consideration that the writing could have really used some more editing, but whether this is the fault of the edition or the author is up to consideration.

Still. It was very adorable in a wittily amusing sense. Also, many of the critiques and comments were spot on when it came to themes such as popular views of women in society, the oftentimes conniving methods of ensuring matrimony, and most importantly the power of fiction. While it's true that the heroine formed some particularly peculiar opinions regarding reality as a result of her reading novels, the book also demonstrates that one need not read overly dramatic tales involving supernatural elements in order to make extremely poor decisions. In comparison to the amount of useless drama and antagonism that resulted from misguided rumors, the heroine's actions based on her choice of reading were almost sensible.

In light of all that, while the writing itself is a bit discombobulated and rather shallow, there's also a lot of entertainment and a decent amount of sense to be found. It's not Austen's best, but considering her later works, I'd say it was a promising start. ( )

Important as a comparison to her later works. you can see glimpses of Austen's future themes and pathways to better character development. I tended to get bored while reading it. ( )

This is my final Jane Austen book - the only one I hadn't read. It's definitely not up with my top three (Pride and Prejudice, Emma, and Persuasion), but at the same time I did really like it. I'd probably place it on about a par with Sense and Sensibility (I didn't like Mansfield Park at all). There's something totally endearing about the whole thing, the satire being a little more obvious than in the others I've mentioned. I read somewhere that although this was the last book published, it was the first one she wrote? It definitely shows, particularly in the lack of subtlety, but it's no bad thing. The story is also notably slighter than some, but again, this isn't necessarily a critcism. It's just a completely different beast to the other books.

I loved Catherine. She was so charmingly naive, which is refreshing, given that Austen has a tendency towards very knowing protagonists. She's a little younger than her typical protagonist, which probably accounts for this somewhat, but I just liked her being a little less streetwise than perhaps Elizabeth or Emma (who obviously had their own blind spots, but that's for another review). I felt some elements of Henry's character weren't really fleshed out properly - I couldn't really "see" him the way I could see Knightly or Darcy, for example - but, again, given that this is more of a straightforward story than the others, it was kind of acceptable. I do wish Eleanor's affair had been a little more fleshed out, but again, I mostly put that down to the youth of the author at the time.

John Thorpe (who I kept accidentally calling Iain in my head - sorry, Iain!) was a complete git, which I know was the intention, and made me really, really angry. I find it a little annoying when authors use a set of crossed wires to (in particular) keep couples apart, but the few instances of this are resolved pretty quickly, so I can't complain too much.

In comparison to most other things, this is definitely five stars. I only gave it four because it's not quite a classic Austen, but a very good one nonetheless! ( )

"No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine...; but the Morlands had little other rigth to the word, for they were in general very plain, and Catherine, for many years of her life, as plain as any. She had a thin awkward figure, a sallow skin without colour, dark lank hair, and strong features -- so much for her person; and not less unpopitious for heroism seemeed her mind". Allein dieser Anfang spricht Bände. Wo sind wir hier gelandet? Das ist doch Jane Austen, DIE Autorin von Sense an Sensibility sowie Pride and Prejudice? Wer sich wie ich auflehnt bei einem Plot wie in Letzterem (4 Töchter, die erste wunderschön, die zweite, Heldin der Geschichte, natürlich blitzgescheit und hübsch, die weiteren Töchter arg dumme Gänse) und auch bei Liesbromanen eher dem Augenverdrehen als Dahinschmelzen zugeneigt ist, dem sei gesagt, Jane Austen kann mehr und das stellt sie hiermit fulminant unter Beweis. Eine Autorin, die mit Liebesromanen eine bis heute andauernde Berühmtheit erlangte, pflückt ihr Vorzeigegenre meisterlich auseinander. Das beginnt wie demonstriert mit der Vorstellung einer Antiheldin: singen kann sie nicht, zeichnen auch nicht und ist gerade mal ansatzweise hübsch, es fehlt jegliche Redegewandtheit plus sie ist von einer den Leser geradezu erschütternde Unbedarftheit. Catherine Morland, das ist ihr Name. Unsere Heldin reist in Gesellschaft eines gutmütigen älteren Ehepaares nach Bath, einer Kurstadt, dort triftt sie auf Henry Tilney und bekundet diesem in aller Naivität und mit schüchternem Verhalten ihr Interesse an ihm. Keine Annäherung auf dornigem Pfad über mindestens 99 Hindernisse hinweg, tränenreiches Leiden unerwiderter Zuneigung und funkenschlagende Rededuelle, nein, Mr. Tilneys Interesse erwacht einfach aus dem Grunde, dass eine junge Frau in schönster Einfachheit zeigt, wie anziehend sie ihn findet. Catherine ist zudem eine ausgesprochene Liebhaberin von Liebes- und Schauerromanen, was ihr fast zum Verhängnis wird. Eingeladen auf den Tilney'schen Familienbesitz vom Vater Henrys, einem ehemaligen nun umgewandelten und modernisierten Kloster (Abbey), hat sie nichts Naheliegenderes zu tun als in fremder Leute Schränke herumzustöbern, nach geheimen Türen und moderdurchzogenen Gängen zu suchen. Das fantasievolle Hineinsteigern kennt keine Grenzen und mündet in der Verdächtigung von Mr. Tilney Senior seine Gattin vor Jahren ermordet zu haben. Catherine gesteht Henry ihre ungeheuerliche Annahme, muss zutiefst beschämt hören, dass Vater und Mutter einander in Liebe zugetan waren, und sich eine Lektion anhören in der Unterscheidung von Realität und Fiktion. Mit diesen überaus komisch geschilderten Verwicklungen enttarnt Jane Austen nicht nur den Schauerroman, welcher damals grassierende Blüte in England hatte, weist dem Liebesroman seine Grenzen zu hinsichtlich des echten Lebens, räumt mit literarischen Stereotypen von Held und Heldin auf und gibt dem Leser augenzwinkernd den Rat seinen Verstand nicht unbenütz zu lassen. Letzendlich gibt es selbstverständlich ein Happy End, doch der Leser verlässt die Szenerie köstlich unterhalten und bereichert um feine Gesellschafts- und Genrekritik. ( )

I really couldn't stand Pride and Prejudice, when I read it, a fact I've made no great pains to disguise. But I was determined to get all the way through a Jane Austen book without chucking it across the room at any point, and Northanger Abbey made this easy on me. The tone of the novel is quite fun, and it was quite easy for me to see the cleverness and wit of the author I'd heard so much about and hadn't liked or noticed very much in Pride and Prejudice. Any complaints I might have about the character -- her ignorance, her silliness -- are sort of necessary for the plot to proceed as it does. I think if the novel had been much longer, I'd have got a bit sick of the tone, but it was just the right length, I think. ( )