Pride and Prejudice and Disney

A few days ago I came across this hilarious pic on Pinterest

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…and it inspired me to search for five more similarities between Pride and Prejudice characters and those of Disney. Let’s start!

Lizzy: She loves to read. She is headstrong and brave. She is prejudiced against her future husband. She has dark hair in both 1995 and 2005 film adaptions. She is…

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Belle (from Nerdist)

Darcy: He is (seemingly) selfish. A terrible introvert. Does not want to admit his feelings. Undergoes a curing transformation and turns out to be quite tolerable. He is…

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The Beast (from Disney Movies). And do not get me wrong, I do not mean the looks 🙂

Jane: She is famous for her beauty. She is kind and naive. She believes in true love faithfully. She is definitely

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Princess Aurora (from  Disney Wiki). Remember Jane lying ill in 1995 film adaption and you will understand where the association has come from.

Bingley: A very simple minded, naive, cute, friendly guy. Never looks deep into the problem, expresses his feelings ridiculously openly. Although he is never portrayed to be dark-haired, I am still convinced he is a total

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Prince Eric (from Movie Pilot)

Charlotte Lucas: I would have never mentioned her if I did not have a strong association of this nice, modest girl with

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I am aware that I haven’t satisfied your curiosity about such significant characters as Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Wickham, Kitty, Lydia and many-many others (oh, the irresistible Mr. Collins, too, of course!). I will definitely try to work on this in the future, but I also hope for your imagination! Let me know your thoughts here in the comments so that we can make a new Pride and Prejudice adaption featuring Disney characters!

Cathy

Because of Rob. Chapter 5

Mrs. E. appeared out of the dark to meet us. A strikingly beautiful woman, you could never say she was forty years old (that’s what Mrs. Caroline whispered to me just before the greetings). Guys would call her irresistible. At least it was clear from Ben’s look. I squeezed his sleeve rather rudely and raised my eyebrows, meaning You are my boyfriend or you lose a million.

I didn’t like Mrs. E. Not because she was more beautiful or rich than I was (but we will see what happens when I am forty years old). The problem with her was this: she was using her beauty and position to win over everyone and everything. It was easy for me to feel. I was a girl and I had at least some sense left in me. I clung rather possessively to Ben, sorry for him for  the hundredth time that day and thought: You will lose that deal, bitch. You will.

I could not understand the meaning of Mrs. E.’s look at me. It was probably a look of interest, but a look of a snake was equally possible. I somehow knew a time will come and we will have to fight over something. No, not Ben. I doubt if she saw me as Ben’s girlfriend. I mean, she believed I was Ben’s girlfriend, but it wasn’t what I really meant to her. She was not going to play a game where we had equal chances. There was to be a game where she would be higher by all means, and breaking the rules would be wrong. Even for such an unreasonable girl like Emily J.

I don’t remember how Mrs. Caroline introduced us. I only know that after pronouncing my name Ben kissed my cheek and I didn’t kill him not because we had agreed on it, but just because I hardly noticed it. I was thinking of Mrs. E.’s opinion of me, and what the fight or game between us was just around the corner, and I was feeling it just like an old witch feels with her nostrils.

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Cathy

Image taken from Disney Wiki

Because of Rob. Chapter 4

Shopping. A totally. Hateful. Thing. Especially when your boyfriend (no matter whether a real one or not – you are still supposed to please him) is assuring you that everything looks wonderful on you, while you are determined that whatever you try on makes you uglier with every new glance in the mirror.

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Mrs. Caroline stood out of the way for a while and let the sweethearts work it out by themselves, but when it proved to be the most hopeless business ever, she threw Ben out of the game, having come to the conclusion that our clothes make no difference to guys as long as we are not naked, and dragged me out in the street, saying:

“I know where we are to go.”

I felt immensely relieved to be in the fresh air again, but my breath was soon taken away when Mrs. Caroline revealed that she was pulling me to her neighbor’s boutique.

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely, my dear. Lucy E. likes nothing more than seeing someone dressed the way she has wanted it.”

Well, this was the place that made me feel like a farmer’s daughter. But I was encouraged by Mrs. Caroline saying:

“Here you can choose whatever you like. Mrs. E. will be pleased with everything.”

There are rare moments in my life when I am practical. Luckily for Mrs Caroline, such a moment had come. I decided to choose the second cheapest dress seen around. Just not to rob Mrs. Caroline and to deceive Mrs. E., only a harmless bit. Choosing the cheapest dress would have made it obvious I was drawn by financial reasons. I wanted to pay her a compliment for her design, not for setting higher or lower prices. I was delighted to discover that my taste was unanimous with economy. The evening dress both chosen by me and approved by Mrs. Caroline was of dark-purple color, long, straight and simple, with a silver belt on my waist.

When my hair was done, make-up put on and heavy silver earrings completed the image, I appeared before Ben, and he shrugged:

“You look good like you did in every dress I had seen on you.”

Was it a compliment, or did it really look the same to him? Still being in my practical mood, I believed in the latter.

Cathy

Image taken from www.pinterest.com

Driving Across Kent

Before my eyes – an endless road, an endless sky (its colour looks so special today – something between blue, green, and golden!), an endless row of surreal green trees and red bushes. In my ears – Sweet Dreams, Someone Like You, Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word, Can’t Fight the Moonlight, Everything Has Changed. In my hands – a necklace with a C hanging from the chain – just cannot stop squeezing it between my restless fingers. In my heart – the mood of awaiting happiness, because waiting for a miracle is more important than the miracle itself.

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Life is a fairytale. Happy or sad – it still is. But the meaning of happiness and sadness is not certain at all. I need time to understand I am the princess in this fairytale. I do believe in fairytales. I always had. Love and Magic are ruling them, but they enter your life only when you learn to be happy.

I am sure that this drive is my first lesson.

Cathy

Image taken from bhmpics

 

Fool Your HEAD – Heal Your HEART

Nelly presses the cherry-red lipstick to her lower lip until it hurts; tears gather around the dark-blue eyeliner; the face toner makes her skin itch with irritation. The image looking back at her from the mirror is polished and refined, but it feels even worse than the blister in the new high-heeled shoes.

She lets herself bite the freshly drawn lips and cry, cry until mascara and powder paint bizarre lines on her cheeks. She takes off the shoes – they are not worth the pain. She does not care what she is wearing as long as there is a chain of N’s hanging around her neck. She runs out into the rain and lets the rain wash the remaining traces of the make-up away. The invitation is left behind – torn in two.

Why does she have to paint herself like a doll? For fear that people will not accept her as she is? Pretense is saluted – truth is repented. But lies hurt more than contempt. This is not an anti-makeup propaganda. Only, if you give it a thought, drawing a new face and hiding your own behind it has many names you would never want to be called: Hypocrisy, Egotism, Artifice, Dishonesty.

Nelly fights against it. She is throwing the HEAD out of her HEART: Humbleness, Emotion, Affinity, Respect and Truth. A spoiled party is the smallest price to pay for freedom, for the right to be loved for what you are. She is happy now: her hair a rainy-curly mess, her face desperately wanting some soap. She will go home, wrap up in her favourite old sweater, drink some peppermint tea and read Jane Austen.

Tomorrow will be different to her, now that she has felt the pain of lies and destroyed them. It will also be different to you, if you have arrived at the last sentence.

Cathy

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Image taken from Margaret May – blogger

© 2017 Cathy Sanju, My English Paradise. All rights reserved.