Eligible by Curtis Sittenfeld

Eligible by Curtis Sittenfeld

A Modern Adaptation of Pride and Prejudice by Curtis Sittenfeld

 

(taken from Amazon.com)

This version of the Bennet family—and Mr. Darcy—is one that you have and haven’t met before: Liz is a magazine writer in her late thirties who, like her yoga instructor older sister, Jane, lives in New York City. When their father has a health scare, they return to their childhood home in Cincinnati to help—and discover that the sprawling Tudor they grew up in is crumbling and the family is in disarray.

Youngest sisters Kitty and Lydia are too busy with their CrossFit workouts and Paleo diets to get jobs. Mary, the middle sister, is earning her third online master’s degree and barely leaves her room, except for those mysterious Tuesday-night outings she won’t discuss. And Mrs. Bennet has one thing on her mind: how to marry off her daughters, especially as Jane’s fortieth birthday fast approaches.

Enter Chip Bingley, a handsome new-in-town doctor who recently appeared on the juggernaut reality TV dating show Eligible. At a Fourth of July barbecue, Chip takes an immediate interest in Jane, but Chip’s friend neurosurgeon Fitzwilliam Darcy reveals himself to Liz to be much less charming. . . . 

And yet, first impressions can be deceiving.

I'm going to tackle this rather opinionated and detailed review in a slightly different way. This book includes a series of discussion questions after its Acknowledgements in the back, and so I'm actually going to just respond to those questions in helping to guide my remarks on my thoughts and feelings about this book.

These are very long; I give you forewarning. Here we go.


1. Eligible is a modern adaptation of the classic novel Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen. Why is this story such a timeless favorite?

Quickie answer: Elizabeth Bennett is driven, clever, funny, self-confident, and lovable. It would not be nearly as prolific and enduring without her. 



2. Which of the sisters do you most identify with, and why? Did that change at all over the course of the novel? 

This is, ironically, the real reason that my opinion of the book quickly devolved after the first 150 pages or so. I (as I believe most Jane Austen and general literature fans) most identify and admire Elizabeth Bennett in the original Pride and Prejudice, and so it was most problematic for me when she seemed an increasingly less-likable character as the book progressed. In the original classic, her family is certainly ridiculous, but she still loves them, and she does the best she can to be respectable herself, all the while having a sense of both public and private propriety, reservation, and--most of all--dignity. In this adaptation, however, she does a number of things that indicate a low level of self-esteem.

At moments, Liz tries to act in ways to impress those around her (like Caroline, for instance, but certainly many others), instead of doing it because she feels it is what is right, and then Liz in private acts with just as much immaturity and lack of taste as her terrifying younger sisters. The original Elizabeth Bennett strove to silence the impropriety of her sisters, yes, because it embarrassed them all--herself included--but she also just genuinely did not find their remarks tasteful or amusing in the slightest. I found it very difficult to continue to like a character with an affinity for low humor. (Go ahead, call me a prude. But I firmly believe others should not be subjected to potentially offensive humor, and frankly, I just don't see the humor in it. I consider it to be demonstrative of lack of cleverness, and I think Austen and her heroine would both agree with me on that point.) Most troublesome, however, was not Liz's sense of humor, but how her behavior revealed her internal opinions of relationships. In Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth has a cynical outlook on men and marriage because she holds relationships to a high standard--that of genuine love, care, and affection--but has to survive in a society where marriage is about money and status. In Eligible, though, where society for the most part reserves marriage for real love (or what is believed to be real love, anyway), Liz actually uses men in completely casual, even twisted, sex, rather than treating sex as an elevated expression of love. Her actions reveal a low opinion of sex, and an even lower opinion of what love should be, which I found truly unforgivable. Whereas the original Elizabeth Bennett refused to give herself up (or to marry and use anyone else for money, status, security) for anything but a real mutual affection, this Liz Bennet is content to let men string her along, and in turn, preys on them and other men to satisfy her physical, mental, and emotional needs. She is inherently very selfish, and her selfishness is not in defense of love and her values, but in the very destruction of them.

[Addendum: Side note-- the Charlotte in this adaption I really liked even less than the original. The original Charlotte made her choice in sacrifice for personal security, and to take financial pressure off of her family. Marrying Collins was, in many ways, a selfless, practical, and proactive choice. In this adaptation, Charlotte has no real motivation for latching onto Collins except that she is lonely, which I thought un-endurably sad, since we know that Collins will never really love, respect, and care for her like she deserves. In the original, in sacrificing a marriage based on love, Charlotte gains independence and spares her family worry. In this adaptation, she simply loses herself to someone who can't--and won't--really give her the affection she desires most, making her choice unable to fulfill her wants and needs. Hint: if you want a better modern depiction of Charlotte that will help you to understand Austen's classic Charlotte, look to The Lizzie Bennet Diaries on YouTube.]

3. Were you surprised by Darcy and Liz having "hate sex"? Did it make the novel more or less enjoyable for you?

Well, I essentially just addressed this question. To reiterate, it disgusted me, plain and simple. Regardless of what you believe about at what point couples should engage in sex, I hope most would agree that sex should be treated as a way to demonstrate love to one another. This is a blatant abuse of that. I also felt that it started Liz and Darcy's real friendship off on a terrible footing--she was essentially using him, and he let her. Bothersome for so many reasons.


4. What prejudices does Curtis Sittenfeld explore in this adaptation? How do they differ from the prejudices of Austen's time?

I'm not going to go into long-winded detail to describe all the prejudices of current times depicted in the novel (and also because I don't want to dump too many spoilers in here), but in general, it seeks to point out prejudices about sexuality (and a few about race). Regardless of my personal beliefs about sexuality, I was, I must say, disappointed with how Sittenfeld dealt with the Bennet parents having to confront these issues of our time. All the adaptations I have ever read or seen of Pride and Prejudice have been unapologetic in revealing the backward beliefs, ridiculous hysterics, and simple bigotry of Mrs. Bennett. But they have also been equally understanding that even when family members are wrong about some things, they still do love each other, and they have redeeming qualities in their love for one another. In all those other adaptations, we still see moments where it is apparent that Lizzie loves her mother, and Mrs. Bennett loves her daughters in her own way, even if she does not understand them. I was disappointed that this book really just painted Mrs. Bennet as a terrible bigot, with no redeeming qualities. The author seems to believe that people with prejudiced views (which by no means are acceptable) deserve no grace and cannot possess any redeeming qualities, ever, which is just not representative of the human condition. In treating bigots as blatantly inhuman rather than uncaring or having wrong beliefs, we are being just as hateful as they.

To give you a contrasting example, in Gilmore Girls, Emily Gilmore has her numerous faults, prejudices, and flawed belief systems, but the writers of that show still depicted moments of her humanity that redeemed her for the audience, and gave her real, believable depth of character.


5. To what extent do you think the portrayal of modern courtship and marriage in this novel is realistic? Do you think Mrs. Bennet's concern over her daughters' remaining unmarried into their late thirties is common, or is this an outdated perspective?

I'm sure this rather depends on the person; in my experience, parents still do want their kids to get married and have families, but I believe they are merely wishing--not for financial stability, which would have been the case in Austen's time--that their children might experience the fulfillment of having a family that they themselves have experienced. You never hear parents saying how much they regret having a family, they always say it comes with costs, but ones they were glad they made, and I imagine parents who want that for their kids today just want them to experience that love and relationship. Of course, it's not for everyone, but I think our society is slowly becoming more understanding of that.


6. The title Eligible comes from the fictional reality television show Chip Bingley appears on. What do you think the novel has to say about reality TV? Would you go on a show like Eligible? 

Of course, the reality TV show in the book is a clear allusion to The Bachelor / The Bachelorette in real life, for which I cannot find the words to describe my loathing. It reduces love to something one-dimensional, fickle, and pathetic, mashed and rolled out into something palatable enough for ignorant, immature Americans to digest. I don't think this book really treats reality TV like that as such a bad thing, more of something mildly amusing, with which I just flatly disagreed. Especially once the book gets to the last 100 pages, it seems that the author is more interested in making a joke of messed-up reality TV rather than revealing its actually-rather-harmful vices (no, I don't mean naked people in a pool, by 'vices'; I mean how it distorts, contorts, and uses real people and real feelings for entertainment, and how that negatively affects those real lives). The consequences and damages of reality TV to real relationships are, I think, a lot more severe than Sitttenfeld depicts in this book.


7. On p. 305, Kathy de Bourgh tells Liz, "There's a belief that to take care of someone else, or to let someone else take care of you--that both are inherently unfeminist. I don't agree. There's no shame in devoting yourself to another person, as long as he devotes himself to you in return." Do you agree or disagree with this sentiment?

What's ironic, is that this is probably the only thing I agreed with in the book, and it came from the one prominent character of the original book that was reduced to mere filler in this version; AND, more significantly, it is the one major attempt at a theme that utterly fails to play out in the main two characters.

Liz Bennet doesn't really devote herself to Darcy--she uses him, and then becomes obsessed with him, but she doesn't seem to devote herself to him. Yes, he does devote himself to her, but she fails to act in a way that reciprocates, thus leaving this mutual commitment that Kathy de Bourgh identifies unfulfilled.

On another related note, I didn't like how the author switched around some of the antagonists in this book. Mostly because whereas in the original, the characters and backstories and secret-happenings were inter-related, they were all VERY un-cleverly disconnected in this adaptation. I had, early on, decided on what I thought the major backstory was, and I was completely off. In short, my predicted version of the backstory was better than the actual one (really, oneS, because they had nothing to do with each other) that played out. I wouldn't have minded if the reality was more original and well-thought-out, but it wasn't. I also felt that by not making Jasper's transgressions more directly offensive and antagonistic to Darcy personally (as in, relating it to Georgiana/his family), weakened that aspect of the story line. What he does is still entirely unforgivable, but it makes the animosity between the two not as strong as it might have been otherwise, and, by extension, does not give Lizzie as much of a rock-solid reason for a sharp about-turn in her opinion of Jasper [Wickham]. Furthermore, I think that the contrived and rather un-dramatic way that Darcy "saved" Lydia's predicament was weak. It was certainly a nice, wise, and well-intention-ed gesture, but it was not as Bennett-world-shaking as in the original, and did not require so much self-sacrifice on Darcy's behalf for Liz (i.e. the way he 'fixed' Lydia's plight required little of him in the way of personal or material cost).


8. If you've read Pride and Prejudice, do you think it is a feminist novel? Is Eligible?

1) Yes, and 2) No. First, I need to explain that I think feminism, in my definition, implies a high opinion of, and care and respect FOR women, BY men, and BY women themselves, as well as a high opinion of, care, and respect FOR men, BY WOMEN, and BY MEN themselves. That being said, men and women, both toward themselves, each other, and reciprocally, must have a high standard for love and relationships and how to treat one another. 

By that definition, a book that is feminist holds love (both for others and for one's self) and relationships to a high standard. It may certainly depict broken ones, but its themes argue for love, care, and respect in spite of human shortcomings and failure. Pride and Prejudice's outcomes and themes seem to demonstrate such, but Eligible overall does not seem to hold love or relationships to same high standards. 

If, however, you define feminism as flipping historical societal norms and having women use men the same way they have used women in the past, then, yes, I would say Eligible is a feminist novel.


9. The novel closes with Mary's perspective. Why do you think Curtis Sittenfeld chose to conclude the novel with her? How does the choice change your perspective on preceding events?

The Mary chapter was very odd. On one hand, I think it was an attempt to address a character that was little understood in the source material; on the other, however, it seems rather unbalanced (as opposed to, say, A-symmetrical) in terms of narrative perspective. I also didn't feel like it was prolifically insightful enough to merit the change in point-of-view. Perhaps if it revealed more about Mary than we already knew, it would seem more poignant and carry enough weight to feel justified; instead, it rather felt like the air deflating out of a tire-- the forward progression of the book (which actually was pretty good throughout) came to a fizzled-sort-of anti-climax ending. Kind-of like saying, "Okay, well, you've seen all the other Bennets' happy endings, so, I guess, in an after-thought, here's a look at Mary Bennet's: ...Oh, wait, I guess we already kind-of showed it to you. Well, here you go, anyway. Bye."


10. What would Jane Austen think of Eligible?

Well, obviously, she would first have a heart attack at the ideas of sexuality in it, but, if she ever recovered from that, I think she would wonder what the author really believed about how people should treat one another when genuinely in love. Additionally, I think she would have a lot of bones to pick with Sittenfeld about the main protagonist. I see Austen as writing Lizzy as a heroine very much like Austen herself, and, consequentially, I believe Austen would be disgusted with Sittenfeld's depictions of Liz seeming, at times, pathetic, crass, selfish, and un-driven, which are the dead opposites of the qualities that mark Austen's Elizabeth. 


Other final disclaimer: If you haven't figured it out from the review so far, this book definitely has a prominent amount of language, sex, and sexuality, so it falls clearly in the "Fiction" rather than "Young Adult Fiction" pile (where I might have placed the original P&P). Adult content advisory on this one, for anyone who may be worried about that.

Overall Rating: 3 / 10 Stars 

This book was an entertaining and easy-to-say-interested read, but my blatant disconnect with the book's characters and themes made it difficult for me to like it, especially as it progressed. If I were to write an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, I wouldn't use it as a piece of progressivist propaganda, because Austen's book was never a piece of propaganda. It was an attempt to show the value of love in romantic relationships and marriages, but the author of this novel seems to have a poor understanding of what romantic (and really, any type of) love actually says and does, and focuses instead on trying to show as many different types of sexual and inter-racial relationships, without ACTUALLY showing what strong, positive relationships look and sound like in words and actions. The ways the different couples interact with one another are either cookie-cutter, or, even worse, ultimately self-serving, and do nothing to communicate big ideas and universal themes so much as reinforcing political and social beliefs.

Overall, I'd give it a two, (one being "I couldn't get through the book"), but because, at least, of the author's pacing and chapter breaks, it was entertaining enough to keep my attention and avoid putting it down, so I'll bump it up an extra star for entertainment value.