Eligible by Curtis Sittenfeld
I had so much fun reading this modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice. I met Curtis Sittenfeld at the Southern Festival of Books and got excited about reading this book when she read an excerpt of Liz and Darcy’s smoldering banter. There was plenty more sexual tension, and the two proposal scenes did not disappoint. Sittenfeld turns the classic into contemporary “chick lit,” while maintaining much more faithfulness to the original than Bridget Jones’s Diary, or any other retelling I can recall. The title comes from a reality TV show in the book that’s inspired by The Bachelor. I enjoyed the Cincinnati setting, and the discussions of the meaning of growing up in, leaving, and returning to a place like Cincinnati.
Sittenfeld’s Liz is considerably less likeable than the sparkling Elizabeth Bennet, about whom Austen said, “I must confess that I think her as delightful a character as ever appeared in print, and how I shall be able to tolerate those who do not like her at least, I do not know.” Liz is a judgmental busybody, pushing her family members to make more responsible choices when they don’t want to. She puts her parents’ house on the market for them and makes her younger sisters move out and get jobs. She’s right, but she crosses some boundaries to get her way. However, the issue of likeable female characters is fraught. It is not necessary that a character be likeable, only interesting, and Sittenfeld’s Liz qualifies. Her Darcy is perhaps more likeable than Austen’s, merely reserved rather than frequently rude.
Sittenfeld’s changes are not necessarily the ones I would have chosen, but they work well within the universe she has created. Mr. Collins is less obsequious and less objectionable for Charlotte Lucas to pair with. There is no entail, obviously, and Collins is just a tech-rich cousin. Lady Catherine de Bourgh becomes a stand-in for Gloria Stienem, and she has no connection to Darcy or action in the final chapters. Sittenfeld’s answer to Wickham the cad is more pathetic than despicable, and he also disappears early in the action and doesn’t come up in the story’s resolution. Mrs. Bennet’s silliness becomes shopaholicism and moderate racism and transphobia. She may be the character most true to her roots in Austen, which may be why her mania for getting her daughters paired off seems so anachronistic, although she surely has her counterparts in today’s reality. The biggest stretch may be the big deal made over Lydia’s elopement. I heartily recommend it to any romance fan and especially to fans of Austen.