I don’t know if I am allowed to admit this, but I haven’t previously read any Jane Austen. I recall opening Pride and Prejudice briefly, then deciding I’d much rather re-read Wuthering Heights instead. So, this wasn’t just my first time reading Northanger Abbey, it was my first time reading Austen – and what an indulgent text I found it. Rich in social history, and impropriety, I loved having the opportunity to explore Bath and the Pump-Room along with Catherine. This wasn’t a book I had to struggle through, I humoured the drama of Catherine crying throughout her breakfast after receiving news from her brother, and earlier wishing to throw herself from the carriage so that she may walk with Henry and Eleanor.

It is quite clear that in places we are also indulging Austen, especially in her declaration on the values on the novel. At times, this created a distancing that removed you from Catherine’s world briefly, and reiterated that you were merely an observer and that Austen too was observing these things. It was quite clear that this was Austin’s interference in the story, but I saw no reason why she shouldn’t use her influence and readership however she had wanted.

One of the passages I found most interesting, awoke questions of the value of the written versus oral text. As Henry, Eleanor and Catherine walk to Beechen Cliff, Henry mocks Catherine’s lexical choice: ‘nice’. It is clear that there are many interpretations to Henry’s mocking, and flirting seems most probable in my opinion, but the important question it raised was whether Henry would have the same critique of the written word. This is not answered in the text but was provocative enough to allow me to think of other places I’d encountered this before.

The most prominent in mind was from the Bible. This year I’ve downloaded an app in which David Suchet, of Poirot fame, will read the Bible to you in one year. (Another text I haven’t read before). In Luke 11:28 Jesus says that ‘blessed are those who hear the word of God.’ Suchet pointed out in an interview about the project, that the emphasis in this passage is ‘hear the word’, not read, not speak but hear the word. I therefore wondered whether Henry was giving the same authority to the spoken word as the written word, or if one is more worthy of respect than the other. The written word is more often carefully considered, than the spoken which is spontaneous, but this doesn’t necessarily make it better, or truer.

I then considered poetry, my go-to form, and one I feel more comfortable discussing. Especially in regards to poetry, do I feel that the reader experience is important in discussing the value of oral texts. There is nothing worse, than finding out your favourite poet is dull at reading their own work, and nothing more powerful that somebody surprising you with something you’d previously ignored by feeling every word fizzing around your bloodstream. There is no truer example of this than Kevin Kantor’s People You May Know. I loved it so much, I bought his collection to re-read which sadly failed to capture the tension in the air, and I spent longer looking at what I thought was an errant comma than enjoying the reading experience.

I am now left to wonder if the next time I re-read Northanger Abbey, I should do so aloud.

Bethany Ashley