So, the Jane Austen Centre in Bath, has unveiled a forensic recreation of Jane Austen.
Allow me to tell you a story, that is purely fiction.
Jane Austen was very ill in 1817 and her family called for the Doctor. Though this good gentlemen did his best, there was nothing that could be done for her in that time. In another, later time, it could be imagined that much might be done to aid her.
If such a thing occurred, gentle reader, and the authoress were taken into a box of cobalt blue, thence to find herself in another era, how would she thank the man who saved her life? Perhaps, if you choose to entertain such thoughts, by writing him into a story– into every story, in the hopes that he would see and understand how deeply grateful she was.
It is is a pretty fiction, is it not?
Are you an immortal?
Mary,
To ask a semi-serious question. How much did this creep you out when you first saw it?
I laughed hysterically.
Ah, but would she had been so obvious in her efforts?
Now we know… ;o)
But are you a time lady?
And how soon will it be until you make that dress and cap?
I fear I can only agree with some slight hesitation. It’s as pretty a story as ever flowed from a pen, to be sure.
Fiction? If you say so, I suppose.
What a plot twist.
And beautiful foreshadowing.
Surprising, yet inevitable.
And I’ quite sure that’s how you came up with the idea for the WE podcast episode “What to do When Truth is Stranger than Fiction” …
I adore this response:-)
You’re amazing!
Well I know you’re not a time lord… you’re a time lady c:
This is pretty much the most perfect thing ever!
Maybe not a time lord … but quite possibly a companion. 😉