Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls -- A Review

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Before I begin, I have a confession: The first time I saw Quirk Classics' Pride and Prejudice and Zombies my response was "What the...?" I picked the book up, looked at it, looked at it again, and put it back down because I couldn't wrap my mind around the weirdness. Fortunately, I changed my mind because it so turns out that zombies go with Jane Austen like Havarti goes with pears.

Because Pride and Prejudice and Zombies ended up being such a rollicking good time, I jumped at the opportunity to acquire and review an advance reader's copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls by Steve Hockensmith (release date: 3/23/2010). And lo, I was not disappointed.

Unlike the original Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, this prequel is a completely original work rather than a mash-up featuring the work of Jane Austen. Never fear! Hockensmith captures the essence of Regency Literature, only better! I found this read faster while still including the descriptions of British country social life that one expects from Ms. Austen.

The book answers several questions which readers may have following a reading of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: How did England come to be overrun by foul unmentionables? Where did the Bennet Girls acquire their mad martial arts skills? Is it possible to be both a lady and a warrior? It includes excellent discussions of balls (ahem), the stresses connected with coming out during Times of Troubles, and life and love prior to the arrival of Messrs Darcy and Bingley in Hertfordshire.

Who would benefit from this book? Anyone adventurous enough to experience the daring mix of Regency literature and violent zombie mayhem, ballgowns and nunchucks, courtship and warrior maidens! The book contains a fair amount of violence, dismemberment, and the consumption of humans living and dead. So, if reading about jellied brains and rotting flesh causes you to vomit like many of the fine residents of Meryton, you may want to hold off on this one, or at least keep a basin handy. Otherwise, an exceptionally fun, tongue-in-cheek read well-suited to reluctant readers.

Is your interest piqued? Quirk Books is running a contest in preparation for the release of Dawn of the Dreadfuls! Up for grabs are prize packages which include:

o A Pride and Prejudice and Zombies Journal
o Pride and Prejudice and Zombies Postcards
o Audio Books of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters
o An advance copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls
o A password redeemable online for sample audio chapters of Dawn of the Dreadfuls
o A Dawn of the Dreadfuls Poster

Click here to enter, and let them know I sent you!

First Communion

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I have very clear memories of my First Communion. I was ten years old and it took place during the Maundy Thursday at the Lutheran Church in town. I remember the dress I wore--it had a dropped waist and tiered skirt and was covered in cabbage roses. (Hey--it was 1987. If you think back that far, you may have had one JUST LIKE IT.) The whole family went to church. It was a BIG DEAL.

Preparation involved extra classes and the ability to recite the books of the Old and New Testaments. To this day, I cannot tell you why I needed to be able to tell you all the books of the Bible in order to participate in Communion, but there you go.

What I don't remember is what I actually thought of Communion once I was able to receive it. Which is funny because I clearly remember what it felt like to be excluded from The Table. And it isn't just me--my sister has very similar memories. And a much better story which I'm going to tell because it really is that important.

When I was in the second grade...my sister was probably three years old...my mother was hospitalized on Christmas Eve with toxic shock syndrome. My mother was the organist for the Roman Catholic service at the Air Force Base where we lived. Christmas Eve is not the best time to be without an organist, so a friend of hers substituted during midnight mass, and my father helped by bringing his trumpet. And, of course, my sister and me.

During Communion, Dad was playing and no one was really watching my sister. She took the opportunity to go up to the priest (a friend of the family) as he was handing out the Body of Christ and ask him for "one of those Bread Things," which, of course, she could not have because a) she was not Catholic and b) she was only three, and, therefore, uninitiated into the ways of Holy Communion. But, being three, she didn't understand why everyone else got to have one except for her. So she continued to pull, and cry, and plead, "But Father Jim, I want one of those Bread Things--Give me one of those Bread Things!" The priest is laughing and has tears coming out of his eyes as my father goes up to grab my sister and haul her back behind the organ...still wailing for one of those Bread Things.

As an adult, I understand that the idea of First Communion was very important to my mother. It was familiar to her. It was what she knew. But, as an adult, I have trouble with a theology or a liturgy that denies participation based on age or expertise or comprehension. If we are all the Children of God, we should all have a place at the table, regardless of how old or experienced or smart we are. So I decided that C would get to have Communion when she was ready. And that I would know she was ready when she could recognize exclusion.

What I didn't expect is how early children know that something is going on without them. I was thinking maybe when she was two or so. When she would be able to verbalize wanting one of those Bread Things. But last week at church I watched her during Communion, and I watched the wheels turn in her head and the look that said "Everyone is getting something here but me." And so even though she's only 13 months old, she's ready.

Yesterday was my daughter's First Communion. She didn't have a special dress, and she can't recite the books of the Bible. She will have no memory of her First Communion. But she will have no memory of being excluded from the table.

She may not remember her First Communion. But I will.

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