Hello my lovely readers!
Tonight's #SeasonalSonnets entry was written in celebration of the fact that it is the 241st anniversary of Jane Austen's birth. As many of you will be aware, if only from my post last year on this blog, Austen is pretty much my favourite author (although Tolstoy's War and Peace is my favourite book). I mean, my dogs are called Darcy and Georgi (short for Georgiana). That said, as much as I love her work, I am aware that she was far from perfect as a person - not least because of her family's financial connection to plantations in the Caribbean. So, being a good student of literature, I have tried to use this sonnet as a way to pay homage whilst also providing a more balanced analysis...even if I have ended with a couplet that might be little more than wishful thinking.
Let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy.
16th December
I write tonight to praise another writer,
born this day in 1775,
‘cause I can think of few who’ve burned brighter
as a source of inspiration in my life.
My verse here does homage t’dear Jane Austen,
whose books (filled to the brim with tears and smiles),
‘ve long offered me a world I can get lost in –
and let me jump (with Lizzy) over stiles.
Plus ‘Dear Aunt Jane’ was skilled in ‘finger-spelling’,
since with her brother George she used to sign,
and that suggests to me she’d now
be telling
stories p’raps not very far-removed from mine...
Of course I know my ‘fave’ is problematic,
(by no means a campaigner in her time) –
and I’d be first t’disgrace her family’s tactics
that placed funds before respect for humankind.
Yet whilst it seems she took the Tories’ part,
I’d hope, like Darcy, she’d be a Whig at heart.
 |
| Copyright Jessi Parrott December 2016 |
No comments:
Post a Comment