I am not one to find out what other people say about something in order to have an opinion on it. But once I have a definite attitude about a certain subject or person, I do consider the opinions of others. Sometimes, but not often, I change my opinion as a consequence. When it comes to personal likes and dislikes, I tend to agree with those who share mine, and sometimes I consult their opinions to help me to understand and to voice my feelings..

I do not care for Jane Austen's work although I must admit that she is a great novelist who has pleased millions of readers and who is raved about to this very day. No matter how much others might be amused by it, I have little patience for the complex detail and personal gossip in her work. I prefer the a more 'psychological' novel, where motives are exposed and behavior agonized over. I try to read Emma and I wind up being thankful the novel was turned into a really funny movie. Yes, I know, people who understand the novel read it several times over and never stop laughing, but it is not for me.

I recently perused the criticism of Austen's critics. Criticism is at bottom praise or blame, and honest critics are not afraid to come down on one side or the other. I saw few moderate opinions in the 19th-century criticism of Austen's person and work. Her work received either low ratings accompanied by rude personal remarks based mostly on hearsay, or it enjoyed high ratings along with praise for her person, again based mostly on hearsay. Yet in the 20th century, I found a consensus that she is one of the greatest novelist who ever lived, and several recommendations that every novelist should study her work. Furthermore, the critics claim that Emma is her most brilliant creation, the ultimate character study of English literature.

I was most interested by the following details: she was surrounded by family; she was a patient person who wrote for her amusement; she had no studio to write in, and hid her work when someone approached; she liked to tell children's stories; she never married but had a proposal; she was sociable; when first published, her name did not appear on her works; she was not popular while alive but got a few good reviews; she died young at 41; when she began to get famous 40 years later, people came around and asked questions about her, and the locals could not imagine why anyone would be interested in her.

I am certainly thankful for Austen's literary gift to humankind, yet I am now a heretic in respect to the orthodox opinion of my contemporaries. There are always heretics. While going through the critical anthologies, I found a fascinating letter written in 1850 by Charlotte Bronte, who read Emma with "interest and just the degree of admiration Miss Austen herself would find suitable. Anything like warmth or enthusiasm - anything poignant, heart-felt, is utterly out of place in commending these works...

"... Her business is not half so much with the human heart as with the human eyes, mouth, hands, and feet. What sees keenly, speaks aptly, moves flexibly, it suits her to study; but what throbs fast and full, though hidden, what the blood rushed through, what is the unseen seat of life and the sentient target of death - this Miss Austen ignores...

"Jane Austen was a complete and most sensible lady, but a very incomplete and insensible (not senseless) woman. If this is heresy, I cannot help it." Bronte came down hard on Austen and she has my sympathies. Jane might have been the kinder of the two women, but I cannot condemn Charlotte for expressing herself honestly. I share her antipathy. As a critic she is balanced but biased in my direction. She compliments Jane for her Reason while she blames her for her deficit of Will or passion. Reason versus Will was once the big "issue." I note her use of the term 'enthusiasm' (god-possession), once a popular theme with writers. Romantic Artists - is there any other kind? - are supposedly inspired by their vital Will, enthused by God's revelations, guided by idols called Muses. They are not cold, calculating and rational; they are not much interested in surfaces, in superficial detail, in mere gossip; rather, they burn within with fires wrapped in mysterious smoke and fog and so on. Yet they have been known to maintain a reasonable, classical line, whereas merely superficial minds cleave to materialistic details and are lost in newsprint that passes for literature.

Bronte, then, like all critics, employs a philosophical "platitude" to justify her feelings about Austen. After all, morality is founded on a few platitudes - the sin is in not concealing them with fancy talk, in using hackneyed phrases instead of original variations on themes.