Where Sanditon Gets an Ending

Sanditon: Jane Austen's Last Novel Completed by Jane Austen
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is the 1975 version of Jane Austen's unfinished novel, completed by "another lady." Probably about 25% is Jane Austen and the rest is Marie Dobbs, the unnamed lady making her best guess as to Sanditon's direction.

I liked it.

I didn't know exactly where Jane Austen ended and the modern writer began (well, I do now, actually, because it's spelled out in the author's "apology" at the end), and though I had a vague idea, the line didn't become obvious to me as I read. No clunkers--the writing is quite good. No obviously weird behavior. However, as the story continued, especially close to the end, even though it's all charming and sensible and pleasant, I become increasingly aware that I was no longer reading a Jane Austen novel. Not really. (It's also pretty different from the series, but I expected that.) And no, it's not quite as good. Of course it isn't. However, it's a pleasure to read, and the actual ending is perfectly satisfying, so you don't part with any hard feelings--the author hasn't done any damage to Jane Austen's fragment--but one can't help but wonder what the novel might have been.

Then you wonder about all the novels that might have been had Jane Austen lived longer.

Then you wonder about all the novelists who died too young or maybe never got published at all for a variety of reasons, including too many women for too long, not to mention all of those people through history who never learned to read and write, and you have to conclude that we're left with a fraction of the amazing literature that might have been but never will be...

Maybe it's just me that would follow that train of thought. But I brought you with me, so that's cool.

If you're an Austen fan who has read the 6 main novels but stopped there, I want to recommend giving this version a try, or maybe one of the other versions. You get at least a few more chapters of Jane Austen that way, and hopefully some decent pastiche to finish it out for you. Then, once you're done, you can sit and dream about what might have been.

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