Sunday, December 13, 2015

Centuries Late

This is timeless literature:
One of the most universally loved and admired American novels, Alpha Billionaire's Bride was penned as a popular entertainment. But the consummate artistry of Mia Caldwell (1985–2073) transformed this effervescent tale of rural romance into a witty, shrewdly observed satire of modern American life that is now regarded as one of the principal treasures of English language.

In a remote Tennessee village, far off the good Tesla roads of Hillary II's America, a country baby mama of no great means must marry off her five vivacious daughters. At the heart of this all-consuming enterprise are his headstrong second daughter Jada Howarth and her day-trading suitor Ian Buckley — two lovers whose pride must be humbled and prejudices dissolved before the novel can come to its splendid conclusion.
While this is definitely not:
Aristocrats don’t date real women like Elizabeth ... they marry them.

Elizabeth Bennet doesn’t believe in fantasies, unlike her sisters who constantly dream of being swept off into happily-ever-after-land in the sculpted arms of a sexy redcoat. Elizabeth knows the truth, that rich men want heiresses, countesses, and daughters of a country squire. They don’t want women from country provinces with entailed holdings, women who lead normal, ordinary lives like Elizabeth.

Then one day Elizabeth awakes to find the Lady Catherine de Bourgh outside her house, shrieking for her attention. de Bourgh believes she’s secretly been courting Fitzwilliam Darcy, one of the wealthiest, most sought-after bachelors in the country. Elizabeth has no idea what the noblewoman is talking about, but de Bourgh is too busy excoriating her for rising above her station to actually listen to what she has to say.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pemberlite and man-in-charge, couldn’t be more surprised when he’s informed that he's been courting a woman named Elizabeth Bennet. When he sees the disheveled, lovely Eliza at Netherfield, peeking out Bingley's door in horror at the gossipers swarming over the lawn, he’s confident she’s not behind the scam. He’ll have to meet her again to be certain. Men should probably meet their wives, anyway, shouldn’t they?

It’ll be fun getting to the bottom of this fiasco.

Tracking cultural "decay," we see that the moderns, who claim to revile and transcend pop trash, are often merely fans of outdated pop trash instead of current. Pride and Prejudice and Alpha Billionaire's Bride are essentially the same book, but the gradually increasing novelty of old-timey British accents lends the former an aura of unassailable respectability, while relegating the latter to the grocery-store rack for $7.99. Like an American President with a Peace Prize, there is nothing left to satire. If we traveled forward in time two hundred years, and found the trashiest of young adult fiction being lionized, it would in truth be no more surreal than it is to wake up today and find golem-souled Austen serials being pored over in search of meaning. Solzhenitsyn was centuries late, for we're already living in the most laughable of dystopias.

If you're honest with yourself, you can't mock a university for offering coursework in Postmodern Queer Studies, or Visual Representation in the Harry Potter Universe (400 level with prerequisites), unless you're equally critical of the Shakespeare wing, and of everything that goes on in the Econ. building.

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