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"When Catherine Morland, a country clergyman's daughter, is invited to spend a season in Bath with the fashionable high society, little does she imagine the delights and perils that await her. Captivated and disconcerted by what she finds, and introduced to the joys of 'Gothic novels' by her new friend, Isabella, Catherine longs for mystery and romance. When she is invited to stay with the beguiling Henry Tilney and his family at Northanger Abbey, she expects mystery and intrigue at every turn. However, the truth turns out to be even stranger than fiction ..."--Container.… (mer)
upstairsgirl: This is the book that Austen's heroine is reading (and which Austen is wryly mocking) in Northanger Abbey. Fun to read with each other; Udolpho is possibly less fun on its own.
En trevlig liten berättelse. Visst är den lite enkel i sin uppbyggnad och känns lite gammalmodig ibland, men man rycks med och känner för personerna i berättelsen. ( )
Av Jane Austens romaner brukar Northanger Abbey anses som den minst lyckade: psykologin är oftast väl enkel, och även om humorn i drifterna med de gotiska romaner som hjältinnan Catherine Morland läser överlevt förvånansvärt väl, så är historien synnerligen okomplicerad: Catherine åker till Bath tillsammans med grannarna Mr och Mrs Allen, där hon träffar dels de ytliga syskonen Isabella och John Thorpe – han är en ohyfsad tölp som mest bryr sig om sin häst, hon är en typisk Austensk dålig flicka, tanklös och självisk – och de mer väluppfostrade Henry och Eleanor Tilney. Man förstår direkt att Catherine och Henry är de som kommer få varandra på slutet, men till skillnad från andra böcker av Austen så upptas inte den mesta av tiden med vånda över olika hinder för giftermålet.
Nej, Northanger Abbey är för det mesta tämligen renodlad komedi: Catherines extrema naivitet kontrasteras mot Austens mer cyniska kommentarer, och i alla fall i början är texten strösslad med ironiska kommentarer om vad en hjältinna kan förväntas få utstå av rånförsök och ondsinta bekanta, medan syskonens Thorpes ytlighet och förställning får sig de kängor de förtjänar. Lite mer godmodigt gycklas också med Mrs Allens oförmåga att tänka på annat än hur hon klär sig. Efter en tid, efter att Catherine fått utstå en del milt obehag på grund av familjen Thorpe erbjuds hon att lämna Bath för att bo ett par veckor hos familjen Tilney. Eftersom det romantiska intresset för den intelligente och vänlige Henry redan väckts så behövs inte mycket övertalning, speciellt som hon fått reda på att familjen bor i vad som en gång varit ett kloster. Catherine har förläst sig på dåliga gotiska romaner, och blir överförtjust över tanken på ett hem som tycks utlova mörka rum med stenväggar, gamla märkliga porträtt och annat liknande. Naturligtvis blir hon gruvligen besviken när Northanger Abbey visar sig vara tämligen modernt inrett, utan minsta lilla lönngång.
Från detta skulle man kunna tro att Austen velat driva med allt vad gotiska noveller heter, och visst finns det klara inslag av parodi, men också uttalat försvar av rätten att läsa även lättare litteratur, och boken tål klart att jämföras med Don Quijote: även om det är möjligt att förläsa sig så innebär det inte att allt i romanerna är förkastligt – en lätt (nåja) förvirrad romantiker med hjärtat på rätta stället kan i längden vinna över mer världsliga personer –, och bara för att Northanger Abbey inte är ett gotiskt skräcknäste betyder det inte att allt är solsken och fågelsång.
Även om det går utmärkt att kritisera Northanger Abbey för det enkla upplägget, att slutet inte har samma poetiska rättvisa som andra av Austens romaner, och att uppdelningen i personer man skall gilla och sådana man skall ogilla är lite väl tydlig så är komiken så säkert utförd och de mindre händelserna så bra tecknade att det ändå är klart läsvärt. ( )
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No one who ever had seen Catherine Morland in her infancy, would have supposed her born to be an heroine.
Citat
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"Oh! It is only a novel!" replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. "It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda"; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best-chosen language.
Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.
...but while I have Udolpho to read, I feel as if nobody could make me miserable.
Young people do not like to be always thwarted.
Give me but a little cheerful company, let me only have the company of the people I love, let me be where I like and with whom I like, and the devil may take the rest
But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way.
Mrs. Allen was one of that numerous class of females, whose society can raise no other emotion than surprise at there being any men in the world who could like them well enough to marry them.
...no young lady can be justified in falling in love before the gentleman's love is declared...
Yes, novels; for I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel-writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding--joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust. Alas! If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of another, from whom can she expect protection and regard?
There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves; it is not my nature. My attachments are always excessively strong.
The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.
The quarrels of popes and kings, with wars or pestilences, in every page; the men all so good for nothing, and hardly any women at all--it is very tiresome: and yet I often think it odd that it should be so dull, for a great deal of it must be invention. The speeches that are put into the heroes' mouths, their thoughts and designs--the chief of all this must be invention, and invention is what delights me in other books. [on reading history]
To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.
...if adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad...
... why he should say one thing so positively, and mean another all the while, was most unaccountable! How were people, at that rate, to be understood?
But now you love a hyacinth. So much the better. You have gained a new source of enjoyment, and it is well to have as many holds upon happiness as possible.
The manuscript so wonderfully found, so wonderfully accomplishing the morning's prediction, how was it to be accounted for? What could it contain? To whom could it relate? By what means could it have been so long concealed? And how singularly strange that it should fall to her lot to discover it! Till she had made herself mistress of its contents, however, she could have neither repose nor comfort; and with the sun's first rays she was determined to peruse it. But many were the tedious hours which must yet intervene. She shuddered, tossed about in her bed, and envied every quiet sleeper. … The housemaid's folding back her window-shutters at eight o'clock the next day was the sound which first roused Catherine; and she opened her eyes, wondering that they could ever have been closed, on objects of cheerfulness; her fire was already burning, and a bright morning had succeeded the tempest of the night. Instantaneously, with the consciousness of existence, returned her recollection of the manuscript; and springing from the bed in the very moment of the maid's going away, she eagerly collected every scattered sheet which had burst from the roll on its falling to the ground, and flew back to enjoy the luxury of their perusal on her pillow. She now plainly saw that she must not expect a manuscript of equal length with the generality of what she had shuddered over in books, for the roll, seeming to consist entirely of small disjointed sheets, was altogether but of trifling size, and much less than she had supposed it to be at first. Her greedy eye glanced rapidly over a page. She started at its import. Could it be possible, or did not her senses play her false? An inventory of linen, in coarse and modern characters, seemed all that was before her! If the evidence of sight might be trusted, she held a washing-bill in her hand. She seized another sheet, and saw the same articles with little variation; a third, a fourth, and a fifth presented nothing new. Shirts, stockings, cravats, and waistcoats faced her in each. Two others, penned by the same hand, marked an expenditure scarcely more interesting, in letters, hair-powder, shoe-string, and breeches-ball. And the larger sheet, which had enclosed the rest, seemed by its first cramp line, "To poultice chestnut mare"—a farrier's bill! Such was the collection of papers (left perhaps, as she could then suppose, by the negligence of a servant in the place whence she had taken them) which had filled her with expectation and alarm, and robbed her of half her night's rest! She felt humbled to the dust.
Avslutande ord
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To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and eighteen, is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced, that the General's unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.
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This LT work, Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey, is the original form of this novel. Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey [ISBN 1854598376] is a dramatization of this work by Tim Luscombe. Please do not combine the two; thank you.
This "work" contains copies without enough information. The title might refer to the book by Jane Austen or a (movie) adaptation, so this "work" should not be combined with any of them. If you are an owner of one of these copies, please add information such as author name or ISBN that can help identify its rightful home. After editing your copy, it might still need further separation and recombination work. Feel free to ask in the Combiners! group if you have questions or need help. Thanks.
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Information från den engelska sidan med allmänna fakta.Redigera om du vill anpassa till ditt språk.
"When Catherine Morland, a country clergyman's daughter, is invited to spend a season in Bath with the fashionable high society, little does she imagine the delights and perils that await her. Captivated and disconcerted by what she finds, and introduced to the joys of 'Gothic novels' by her new friend, Isabella, Catherine longs for mystery and romance. When she is invited to stay with the beguiling Henry Tilney and his family at Northanger Abbey, she expects mystery and intrigue at every turn. However, the truth turns out to be even stranger than fiction ..."--Container.