Reflections, by Teg

This week, I’m taking on one of the “classics.”

In this “heart-breaking” modern adaptation of P&P, Elizabeth and Darcy are reunited at Pemberley, where they do everything but confess their love for each other. The awful Lydia and Wickham create scandal and our beloved couple separate without revealing their feelings. Awkwardness prevails at Jane and Charles’ wedding and the star-crossed lovers part ways, again without acknowledging their love for each other. When they meet three years later, Elizabeth has more than one secret she’s keeping from Darcy. Can the two overcome their mistakes and rekindle their romance?

Why you should read this: You’re a sucker for stories with kids in them? You’ll read anything about people named “Will” and “Elizabeth?” You’ve been brainwashed by the Austen fandom? Okay, sure, then you might like this one, too.

Why you might not like this: Glamorized depictions of single parenthood make you cringe. You prefer your moderns with either a touch of reality or obvious fantasy. Plot and characterization are important to you. Your name is “Miss Kenton.”

Modern, Plot-Departure, comes in two varieties: Diet (at DWG) and Extra-Sexy (password protected at Pemberley Library). Apparently, there are also a few (utterly tragic) sequels.

Reflections seems to be widely regarded as one of the saddest stories in the fandom. It made me sad, too, but the tears I wept were not for our hero and heroine, beset by so much tragedy. No, I cried only for myself, and it was mostly tears of frustration over having to review this story.

Now, Miss Kenton, you might say, I have read Reflections, and truly, it can’t be as bad as all that.

To you I would respond: No, it is not as bad as all that. (Whatever that may be. Pestilence, maybe?) But it’s not exactly good, either.

Let’s start with the plot. I do understand that the basic dynamic of the last third of Pride & Prejudice is the will-they-won’t-they question surrounding Elizabeth and Darcy. However. When Elizabeth stumbled upon Darcy at his Cribs-style manor house, they parted on uncertain terms, but no one left pregnant. Also, no one got busy on the lawn or in the gardens. (Okay, maybe the Gardiners did, but they seem a little too well-bred to do that as first-time guests.) So the idea that Darcy and Elizabeth could have lots of sex and be passionately in love when they leave Pemberley without saying anything is a bit much for my suspension of disbelief. Most of the reason these two don’t figure out that they are in love is because 1) Elizabeth isn’t in love with Darcy at Pemberley; and 2) they aren’t yet very good at accurately deciphering the other’s behavior.

Next, at the wedding of Jane and Charles, neither the one nor the other says anything about how they feel. In the novel, Darcy has already decided that he will propose again, based on some pretty slim evidence from his aunt, when Elizabeth thanks him and pretty much opens the door for the lovey-dovey stuff. Now, if this is a guy who’s willing to take a refusal to promise to say no as a reason to ask someone to marry him, is he really going to be all shy and awkward when he’s knocked her up? (Even if he doesn’t know she’s got a bun in the oven?) The answer you’re looking for here is: No.

Are you crying yet? Good.

But Miss Kenton, I hear you pleading, the really sad part of this story is how they pine for each other through the years.

Yes, they do pine. And in the midst of their pining, Darcy hears Elizabeth whisper that she loves him. But let me tell you something about tragic separations: they usually last longer than two-and-a-half years. Go ask Gatsby. Or, if you’re really into Austen-ian pining, go read Persuasion, and ask Anne Elliot how she felt about that whole requited-but-not-quite-together love deal. Neither Gatsby nor Anne had that cool psychic-voice thing that Darcy seems to have, either.

But it was Elizabeth’s voice he heard in his head as the darkness claimed him.

I love you, Will Darcy…

“…and I always will.” Elizabeth murmured as she fell asleep. One hand was resting on her belly, cradling the new little life inside of her.

 

Are we all finding this slightly less tragic now? Not yet?

Well, then, let’s move on to the other Plot Points of Despair.

Poor Elizabeth, you say, raising a child without a job, dependent on her father for money while she tries to finish her degree, so far away from her family! She only saw Jane once or twice!

Yes, the distance from suburban London to Manchester is quite significant. Except that her father makes a day trip out of it, taking the train rather than a futuristic matter-transport device. Jane doesn’t appear to be employed, just hanging around her new mansion quite a lot. Maybe Charles has her shackled there, and she’s not allowed to leave? Also: everyone in this tale has servants! Despite Charles’ confession that he and Jane have had to help out with the monthly payments that keep Elizabeth only just out of poverty, both families can afford to keep a cook and full-time maids (and Elizabeth registered as a full-time student). You’ll have to pardon me if I’m not terribly worried about Elizabeth and her child’s prospects once she has a University degree.

And Darcy, you cry, didn’t even know he had a son! For two years! The tragedy of it all!

Yes, and when he does find out (after Elizabeth lied about it to Georgiana, who just seems to shrug off this minor deception), the kid instantly loves him and is regarded as his more-precocious mini-me. What’s really tragic about the whole scenario is that the kid wreaks havoc wherever he goes and everyone laughs it off as being so adorable and a sign of his intelligence. Then again, with a full-time maid and cook, what does it matter if the house is trashed? And you can always hire a nanny so your kid doesn’t get in the way of your sex life.

For all its faults (and there are more, I’m just too weary to write about them), Reflections isn’t the worst-written Austen fic around. Of course, there are some grammatical misfires that detract from the overall story, but on the whole, the plot and characterization are where I mostly take issue—in case that wasn’t clear by this point in the review. Am I perhaps judging this fic too harshly, basing my critique mostly on its reception in the fandom? Of course I am! But that is kind of the whole point of this site, if you’re just tuning in. Also, I think it’s important to acknowledge that this is a story that many people point to as being one of great sorrow and heartache (perhaps because of the tragic sequels as well) when it’s mainly about mistaken assumptions and lack of communication.

Then again, if you think reading about people who willfully misunderstand each other is just about the saddest thing ever, then this is the fic for you.