“What delight! What felicity!”
Today is Pride and Prejudice’s 200th anniversary. To celebrate, the BBC is apparently going to throw a ball. Not just any old ball—they’re recreating the Netherfield ball (www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/news/bbc-to-recreate-netherfield-ball-for-200th-anniversary-of-pride-and-prejudice-8453439.html).
Will Nichols make enough white soup in time? Will Lydia behave abominably? Will Wickham do the honourable thing and simply stay home? And will Mrs. Bennett talk endlessly (and rather loudly) about getting rich husbands for her daughters, while Mary tries her best to monopolize the pianoforte to display her accomplishments?
We’ll have to wait until the spring to find out, I’m afraid. I only hope that BBC America or PBS does us all the favor of showing this delectable morsel, or I’ll feel as bereft as Kitty if she had no partner at the dance.
In the meantime, this anniversary provides the perfect excuse to reread an old friend—one that I discovered in seventh grade (if that gives you any indication of what a book nerd I was, even in middle school) and that has provided an abundance of joy since then.
In my house, our thoughts will be at Pemberley tonight. We’ll have hazelnut scones with clotted cream to celebrate (no white soup, alas), while we try—in vain!—to control our feelings about this book.