Jane Actually

speak for that Jane Austen of so long ago and I look forward to the next biography, the next continuation and the next movie.
    That said, I do owe a debt to that Jane from so long ago and to the Austen name and the great and the good of my family and of my country. I cannot stand by if untruths or rumours can be corrected by me. And as much as modesty, propriety and my natural reserve permit, I will speak truthfully of my life when asked, even though it might cast my character in a bad light, destroy a thesis or contradict a biographer. I still claim ownership of my life, even though I am willing to share it.
    Some may also worry that my presence means an end to Austen scholarship, thinking me the final arbiter of my own story, but I assure you, I am not. Two hundred years is too short a period to achieve true self-awareness and yet it is long enough that I have forgotten much. Remember that I was just a maiden aunt in a small corner of England and although I read widely and had some small knowledge of the larger world, I truly knew very little. In fact, it is surprising what I did not know … but that can be said of many.
    I remain your humble and obedient servant,
    Jane Austen
    . . .
    “What possessed you, Jane? Did you suddenly think I had too much time on my hands?”
    Jane sat opposite her excited agent and Mr Pembroke from Random House. She had excused Mary from attending, not thinking it fair to make her avatar be the target of Melody’s predicted ire. Fortunately Mr Pembroke was there to calm Melody, reminding her that the other diners at the restaurant were observing her raised words. Jane, however, suspected Mr Pembroke was almost as concerned as Melody.
    “I’m sure Jane just didn’t consider public reaction to her post.”
    “Oh she knew, all right. That’s why she did it without asking me.”
    “Am I to seek your permission first, Melody?” Jane asked, her voice coming over the speaker attached to Melody’s terminal. Mr Pembroke reached over to reduce the volume.
    Melody said nothing, perhaps wisely, but her silence made clear her opinion that Jane should have asked permission.
    “No, I’m sure that’s not what Melody meant,” Mr Pembroke said. He smiled, as broadly and as affably as he could, which was considerable. He began to regret his suggestion of a dinner meeting. “But you have to understand … if we’d known what you were … if you had said something, we could …”
    “Have stopped you from doing something so stupid,” Melody said. “Did you even think for one second …”
    “Because I knew you would do your best to …”
    “Melody, Jane, shut up!” Mr Pembroke said, in a loud stage whisper. He pointed to Melody and the invisible Jane in turn.
    “You are obviously friends who have come to an impasse and it falls to me to make you realize you are still friends. First, Melody apologize to Jane for calling her actions stupid.”
    “But I … yes, I apologize,” Melody said.
    “Second, Jane, admit the reaction to your posting has caused far more controversy than you had intended.”
    Oh very skilfully handled,
Jane thought.
He first gets us to admit what we cannot deny.
    “Very well, I admit … there are wider … yes, I never thought it would cause so much trouble.”
    This was an understatement. For most of the day, Jane’s reply at austenonly had occasioned mostly positive comments, but then some had decided that Jane was asking for a moratorium on further biographies. Predictably Jane had supporters who said that Jane had every right to defend her name against slander and soon the back and forth of postings spread to other Austen blogs. Jane’s actual words were soon lost in the tumult.
    The controversy was also reported in the press, which had been closely watching how the most prominent disembodied author to date would handle the treacherous world of social media.
    “Very good, Jane. Now Melody, admit that Jane’s original post was very balanced. I first read it and thought nothing very alarming about it.”
    “No, there’s nothing wrong with the post. But if she’d only …”
    “Stop. Now Jane, is it possible that you forgot that one of the responsibilities of an agent is to represent and protect her client?”
    As he said this, he lost his stern look of admonition and returned to his more natural avuncular manner. He again smiled so broadly and earnestly that Jane forgot her anger.
    “Yes, I should have asked Melody’s … advice,” Jane