Jane Austen is still where she belongs, between book covers. We know the stories are good, but what isn't immediately obvious is the many recent adaptations is what an impeccable writer of English prose she is - no posturing word-dropper, no purveyer of hoary terminology, but a fine, simple, straightforward narrator.
She is brief but telling, using tilt and tone to make us smile. She doesn't bore with tedious flashbacks or podding descriptions of a new character's background. And she tells us what we wanted to know, just when we want to know it. As I am wondering what became of Mr. Bingley, he turns up; as I am trying to remember what the party is doing in Bath, it becomes clear. She's always ahead, dropping just the right number of crumbs.
Jane's world moved slowly, and reading her takes time. Her cncerns are universal - how to fill the hours of the day, the pairing of single young men and women, the effects of money, household matters. Her ethical domain is dominated by consideration - of others' feelings, needs, requirements. The occasional rebellious spirit is not admired, concepts such as fulfillment and freedom never enter her head. As for "needs" beyond basic physical ones - an idea that would have astonished her - she would have substituted "obligations."
But there is something about all this that keeps us going back, and back and back.