All Roads Lead to Austen: A Year-long Journey with Jane
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"An illuminating insight...fascinating."—Amanda Grange, bestselling author of Mr. Darcy's Diary
"A journey through both a physical landscape and the geography of the human heart and mind...delightfully entertaining and often deeply moving, this book reminds us that Austen's world—and her characters—are very much alive."—Michael Thomas Ford, author of Jane Bites Back
WHERE DO BOOKS TAKE YOU?
With a suitcase full of Jane Austen novels en español, Amy Elizabeth Smith set off on a yearlong Latin American adventure: a traveling book club with Jane. In six unique, unforgettable countries, she gathered book-loving new friends— taxi drivers and teachers, poets and politicians— to read Emma, Sense and Sensibility, and Pride and Prejudice.
Whether sharing rooster beer with Guatemalans, joining the crowd at a Mexican boxing match, feeding a horde of tame iguanas with Ecuadorean children, or tangling with argumentative booksellers in Argentina, Amy came to learn what Austen knew all along: that we're not always speaking the same language— even when we're speaking the same language.
But with true Austen instinct, she could recognize when, unexpectedly, she'd found her own Señor Darcy.
All Roads Lead to Austen celebrates the best of what we love about books and revels in the pleasure of sharing a good book— with good friends.
dice.” Jaque, ever cautious, was giving an inscrutable “Who’s to say?” shrug, while Susan, the most adventurous, was winking, “Could still be interesting if he’s bi!” Then poof, they were gone, and I was alone again. Had I been Frank Churchilled, Clueless style, or had I simply Emma’d myself? Gay or straight, Hugo wasn’t interested. So much for my belief that as an Austen devotee, I had especially keen powers of observation. I’d felt so sure that Hugo had feelings for me. But hadn’t I
call. I’d have to trust that he’d show up Thursday morning to take me to the group, since I’d lost the contact information Betsy had given me. And even if he’d lost my number, he knew where I lived. Thursday morning dawned, transformed into afternoon and then evening without a peep from Ignacio José. How dare he go to Pemberley without me! Turning my room upside down and plowing through the scraps in my purse, I finally unearthed the paper with the contact numbers and by evening reached
friends are all enjoying the novel!” When I asked if he were, he’d dodge. “I’m just about to start it…” The day before we’d arranged to meet at my apartment, he called me aside after one of my classes. “Amy, I’m so sorry. I can’t make it to the group. But the others are still excited about it.” I was sorry, too. There went my chance to win the Twain lover over to Austen’s camp! But así es la vida. We planned the meeting at my place for 7:00 p.m., which I assumed meant that folks would
rock. She’d shown me around Santiago, she opened her home to me, and she’d even opened her parents’ beach house to me, as well. One of my nicest trips had been a long weekend of sight-seeing and gossiping at their home just south of Isla Negra, the site of Pablo Neruda’s fanciful shoreside home. “You can’t leave Chile without seeing Isla Negra,” Carmen Gloria had insisted. We stopped in a seafood restaurant the first evening there. Our middle-aged waiter, discovering I was from the
provided at the moment between my thoughts and my speech. Maddening! I needed a nap. Spanish made my brain hurt. *** I’ve already mentioned how beautiful Antigua is architecturally, but what makes it the loveliest place I’d ever been is that the city is completely ringed by green mountains, among which are two enormous volcanoes. Real live volcanoes! Well, one of them is live, anyway—the other, dormant. Volcán Agua, the dormant one, is visible from any point in Antigua, a city