On Tuesday, July 30th, grey skies and a light drizzle greeted us in the courtyard at quarter past ten. My classmates huddled under brightly patterned umbrellas and several individuals brave enough to venture outside without any such shield took advantage of the tardy transportation to dash back inside and change into warmer clothing. I didn’t take an official poll, but I gathered that the group as a whole was ready for this traditional English weather. Personally, it was both a welcome relief from the heat and provided the opportunity to pull out and wear some of the only clean clothes left in my closet: long sleeves and jeans.
The Busy Bee bus arrived and we cheered to see that Colin once again sat behind the wheel. (Why do we love Colin so much? Well, if you belt Olivia Newton John songs with your bus driver, you might become attached. Also, he’s cheery, patient, and dropped us off at Tesco.) Kevin explained that we were traveling to Chawton Village, where we would visit a large estate called Chawton House, and a small cottage in the same village, which was once home to Jane Austen.
The drive to Chawton was subdued compared to others we’ve taken in the past weeks. Colleagues participating in Morale Monday were on several classmates’ minds and we discussed expectations of how things will be when we return to NC.
I sat next to Justin C on the bus. Justin made the mistake on the way to Chawton of revealing that he hadn’t read any Austen. I took it upon myself to enlighten him and read one and a half chapters of Pride and Prejudice aloud. Justin kindly tolerated my blathering, as the Bennet sisters tolerated Mr. Collins.
Part of our conversation stayed with me. Justin is passionate about American literature and before this class didn’t feel a strong desire to read much British literature. Being here in England, however, and hearing others speak passionately about their favorite British authors has inspired him to branch out. He’s excited about the prospect of teaching twelfth grade a few years down the road and will draw upon his experience here when he teaches. There’s just something about walking the same paths these authors walked and being immersed in the history of this place that is restorative and inspiring.
Upon arriving in Chawton, the group split like an atom in a particle accelerator. Eleven walked to Austen’s house and ten stopped at Cassandra’s Cup to wait for the next tour.
A woman named Anna Holmes met the group of eleven near the gift shop and welcomed us to Jane’s home. Lisa, possibly scarred by her admonishment in the white tower last week, politely asked if she could take pictures in the house. Several faces brightened when Mrs. Holmes granted permission. It’s not essential to take pictures, and some might argue that putting away the camera allows us better experience an exhibit like the Austen House. Let’s be real, though: we want pictures to show our friends, family and students. I can imagine the high school teachers in our group showing pictures of Jane’s desk, or the gardens at the cottage where Jane and Cassandra walked to introduce their students to this groundbreaking author.
We watched a movie about Austen’s life, projected on a simple, white wall. The movie left us with the thought that THIS PLACE was where Austen wrote and had published most of her major works.
The cottage was small, but comfortable, and memories of Jane lined the walls. A first edition Pride and Prejudice safely slept behind glass near a lock of her hair. Her blue dress stands in a room next to a letter (http://www.pemberley.com/janeinfo/brablt17.html#letter95) written by Cassandra to her niece, Fanny, after Jane’s death. Jane’s relationship with her sister was remarkable and Cassandra’s devastation at the loss of her sister was palpable. “I have lost a treasure. Such a sister, such a friend, as never can have been surpassed, --She was the sun of my life, the guilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow. I had not a thought concealed from her and it is as if I had lost a part of myself. Several members of our group commented on the closeness of these sisters and were touched by Cassandra’s words.
Reading Cassandra’s letter, seeing Jane’s house, imagining the girls taking a turn about the garden, it all paints a picture of Austen’s influences in her writing. She wrote what she knew. I could so clearly see her relationship with Cassandra mirrored in Elizabeth’s relationship with Jane, or Marianne’s with Eleanor. I could picture the walks in the garden and the social dynamics of the country gentry she details in her books.
After the tour of Chawton Cottage, the group boarded the bus and drove to Chawton House where we feasted on quiche, potato salad, rocket salad, and the best damn lemon cake this world has ever known. Any volunteers to hunt down the recipe and make it for our weekend class in September?
The Busy Bee bus arrived and we cheered to see that Colin once again sat behind the wheel. (Why do we love Colin so much? Well, if you belt Olivia Newton John songs with your bus driver, you might become attached. Also, he’s cheery, patient, and dropped us off at Tesco.) Kevin explained that we were traveling to Chawton Village, where we would visit a large estate called Chawton House, and a small cottage in the same village, which was once home to Jane Austen.
The drive to Chawton was subdued compared to others we’ve taken in the past weeks. Colleagues participating in Morale Monday were on several classmates’ minds and we discussed expectations of how things will be when we return to NC.
I sat next to Justin C on the bus. Justin made the mistake on the way to Chawton of revealing that he hadn’t read any Austen. I took it upon myself to enlighten him and read one and a half chapters of Pride and Prejudice aloud. Justin kindly tolerated my blathering, as the Bennet sisters tolerated Mr. Collins.
Part of our conversation stayed with me. Justin is passionate about American literature and before this class didn’t feel a strong desire to read much British literature. Being here in England, however, and hearing others speak passionately about their favorite British authors has inspired him to branch out. He’s excited about the prospect of teaching twelfth grade a few years down the road and will draw upon his experience here when he teaches. There’s just something about walking the same paths these authors walked and being immersed in the history of this place that is restorative and inspiring.
Upon arriving in Chawton, the group split like an atom in a particle accelerator. Eleven walked to Austen’s house and ten stopped at Cassandra’s Cup to wait for the next tour.
A woman named Anna Holmes met the group of eleven near the gift shop and welcomed us to Jane’s home. Lisa, possibly scarred by her admonishment in the white tower last week, politely asked if she could take pictures in the house. Several faces brightened when Mrs. Holmes granted permission. It’s not essential to take pictures, and some might argue that putting away the camera allows us better experience an exhibit like the Austen House. Let’s be real, though: we want pictures to show our friends, family and students. I can imagine the high school teachers in our group showing pictures of Jane’s desk, or the gardens at the cottage where Jane and Cassandra walked to introduce their students to this groundbreaking author.
We watched a movie about Austen’s life, projected on a simple, white wall. The movie left us with the thought that THIS PLACE was where Austen wrote and had published most of her major works.
The cottage was small, but comfortable, and memories of Jane lined the walls. A first edition Pride and Prejudice safely slept behind glass near a lock of her hair. Her blue dress stands in a room next to a letter (http://www.pemberley.com/janeinfo/brablt17.html#letter95) written by Cassandra to her niece, Fanny, after Jane’s death. Jane’s relationship with her sister was remarkable and Cassandra’s devastation at the loss of her sister was palpable. “I have lost a treasure. Such a sister, such a friend, as never can have been surpassed, --She was the sun of my life, the guilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow. I had not a thought concealed from her and it is as if I had lost a part of myself. Several members of our group commented on the closeness of these sisters and were touched by Cassandra’s words.
Reading Cassandra’s letter, seeing Jane’s house, imagining the girls taking a turn about the garden, it all paints a picture of Austen’s influences in her writing. She wrote what she knew. I could so clearly see her relationship with Cassandra mirrored in Elizabeth’s relationship with Jane, or Marianne’s with Eleanor. I could picture the walks in the garden and the social dynamics of the country gentry she details in her books.
After the tour of Chawton Cottage, the group boarded the bus and drove to Chawton House where we feasted on quiche, potato salad, rocket salad, and the best damn lemon cake this world has ever known. Any volunteers to hunt down the recipe and make it for our weekend class in September?
I'll now leave you to hear Elizabeth's account of our afternoon at Chawton House.