What’s the Jane Austen News this week?
The £10 notes are nearly ready for release to the general public, and given what happened with the £5 notes, it seems likely the same could happen with the new £10 note when it comes to low serial numbers being worth more than their face value.
If you find a note with the serial code beginning ‘AA01’ you may be holding a couple of hundred pounds in your hand – as these numbers are popular with collectors. Another code to hold onto is the ‘AK47’ code notes; some of these on the £5 note have sold for as much as £1,000.
It’s not just notes though.
A new limited edition £2 coin featuring Jane Austen is also being put into circulation. The coin will only be available in a very limited number of places but it can be purchased from the Royal Mint website already. These will be uncirculated coins and can cost between £10 and £825. The bottom line is, if you find a Jane £2 coin, it could be worth a mint!
At last, Bustle has given the woefully underrated Mr Henry Tilney his day in the sun. Usually he’s overshadowed by Mr Darcy, but one Austen fan and writer for the online magazine has explained why Henry Tilney deserves far more recognition than he gets as a hero, and is, in her (and some at the Jane Austen News’) opinion, the best of all of Austen’s heroes.
- He’s Good-Looking — But Not Too Good-Looking
- He’s The Funniest Of Jane Austen’s Heroes
- He’s Very Sarcastic
- He’s Forgiving
- He’s A Good Brother
The list goes on! If you like Mr Tilney, you’ll like Emma’s article which you can read in full here.
“That gentleman would have put me out of patience, had he stayed with you half a minute longer. He has no business to withdraw the attention of my partner from me. We have entered into a contract of mutual agreeableness for the space of an evening, and all our agreeableness belongs solely to each other for that time. Nobody can fasten themselves on the notice of one, without injuring the rights of the other. I consider a country-dance as an emblem of marriage. Fidelity and complaisance are the principal duties of both; and those men who do not choose to dance or marry themselves, have no business with the partners or wives of their neighbours.”
Henry Tilney (talking with tongue firmly in his cheek) on the social etiquette of dancing.
I loved Mr Darcy. He was devilishly handsome, absurdly arrogant and my idea (everybody’s idea!) of an English romantic hero.
In fact, I realise I must have been fourteen at the time and the reason I loved the novel so much was that I convinced myself that I was Mr Darcy!
And then, at school, we put on a stage version of Pride and Prejudice and I went to the auditions with high hopes and great expectations and – yes, you’ve guessed it – I was cast, not as Mr Darcy, but as the ridiculous, pompous, po-faced, vain and vain-glorious clergyman, Mr Collins. I couldn’t believe it. Half a century on, I still can’t believe it. But from that moment, I turned on Mr Darcy. I had loved him. Now I loathed him. And I’ve loathed him ever since.