London Outskirts by Kent
In London Outskirts, Elizabeth Bennet is stranded in — well, the outskirts of London. By sheer coincidence, Darcy happens across her and, naturally, returns her to the Gardiners’ house. On the way, they air their various grievances, and within very short order their relationship is able to progress without any misunderstandings whatsoever.
Why you should read this: It’s funny, quick-paced and sharp-witted. Somehow, Kent manages to combine careful characterization and thoughtful commentary on both Pride and Prejudice and fandom conventions with his signature cracktastic style.
Why you may not like it: It’s common for reviewers to babble OMG this sounds just like Jane Austen!!! Nobody could ever say that about London Outskirts because it sounds nothing whatsoever like Jane Austen.
He gleefully takes up every fandom trope and smashes them together. The humour is anything but subtle. The premise assumes that, if Darcy and Elizabeth’s misunderstandings were magically cleared up, they’d start making out in maybe five minutes. The plot consists largely of them (1) talking, or (2) trying not to jump each other’s bones. Also, while most authors try (and fail) to avoid anachronisms, Kent seems to consider them as the chocolate sprinkles on the cupcake of lulz.
If you don’t like any (or all!) of these things, you probably won’t like London Outskirts.
Regency, AU, Teen, at DWG
I hate fanon. I hate the Earl of Matlock and Madeleine Gardiner and George, William and Georgie Darcy. I hate Jane Bennet’s inevitably golden hair. I hate Darcy’s curls and dimples. I hate Elizabeth’s magically delicious breasts and I hate her significant garnet cross. I hate it all.
London Outskirts includes all of these things, along with a number of other things I hate, too. Any one of these could easily ruin an otherwise decent fic. However, London Outskirts isn’t a decent fic and makes no pretensions at being so.
It’s a brilliant fic.
Any number of authors can blindly adopt generic fanon as they turn Darcy and Elizabeth into generic stars of generic romance novels. (And they do.) Kent, on the others hand, adopts as many pieces of fanon as can possibly be crammed into one story, then winds them up until they approach good from the other direction. It’s like the Spaceballs of Austen fandom.
The clichés and anachronisms only make the genuinely thoughtful content stand out all the sharper. Where most plots exist to maximize angst, London Outskirts’ plot — such as it is — exists to maximize witty banter. His Elizabeth is lively, charming and arch; his Darcy is clever, snarky and wry. Together, they’re firmly back in the Benedick-and-Beatrice style of the originals.
Here’s Elizabeth in a moment of alarm:
Mr Collins’s face held such a look of joy that Elizabeth wondered for a horrible instant if her father had died.
And here’s Darcy being romantic:
“Do I need to change, sir?”
“No, of course not. Apart from your incredible vanity, you are perfect.”
Extra points: Wickham does not show up in person, and in fact, only shows up at all when Elizabeth describes being driven to smack him, unusual euphemisms abound (see: curricles) the Bennets are neither evil incarnate nor sentimentalized in pretty much any way, Darcy and Elizabeth are kickass without approaching the typical Sueishness, and Kent is such a good writer that his words are a genuine pleasure to read.
This isn’t to say there are no flaws at all. Some of the modern prose falls flat (“You are not so bad yourself, Mr Darcy”) — this is Kent’s first Austenfic, and in some ways it’s much less polished than his later ones. As I implied above, the premise is somewhat less than likely — the scenario gives us no reason to think that Elizabeth’s antipathy would vanish any sooner than in canon, where clearing up their misunderstandings is only one step in their eventual reconciliation. The vaguely slapstick humour doesn’t always mesh perfectly with the romance and largely faithful characterization.
Yet overall, it’s one of the best fics in the fandom: clever, enjoyable, thoughtful and witty. I wholeheartedly recommend it.
“It’s like the Spaceballs of Austen fandom.”
What a great description. And more than enough of a recommendation for me.
Great review.
Thank you, ma’am! I hope you enjoy it — Kent’s works are, to put it mildly, an acquired taste, but I’m very fond of them.
I have to say, I love this fic, and thought of reviewing one of Kent’s during my week.
Oh, I’m glad to hear it. Well, it might be too much to review the same author again so soon, but I think it might be interesting to look at some of his other fics (especially “Mrs Bingley,” which I think is one of the fandom’s only pieces of explicit answerfic).
My dear Madam, are you on crack?
At least Spaceballs is actually funny.
Fetch me my smelling salts! I have to lie down.
Alas! I am not.
I stand by my commentary, however. I do think it’s far better than the overwhelming majority of the output of the fandom. It did make me laugh aloud — which, as you might imagine, is not a frequent occurrence in my life (laughing at things that are actually meant to be laughed at is rarer still). Not every gag worked for me, but lines like the ones I quoted did; therefore, as far as I’m concerned (this being an obviously subjective matter), it was funny and the rampant clichés only made it funnier.
I must say that I agree with this review — Kent has always been one of my favourite writers, though I must say I find his very obvious fascination on… certain parts of the female anatomy a bit unbecoming for a gentleman. Still, not every writer can be one, and he does it with such a good humour I can’t but forgive him the breach to good manners.
Thank you, sir. Kent does strike me as very self-consciously masculine, particularly in the preoccupation you alluded to, but I find myself willing to overlook it; partly due to his other merits, and partly because I find his refusal to disguise his opinions on every possible subject to be strangely engaging.