Latest news with #JaneAusten
Daily Mirror
10 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
‘I found London's coolest party house with a fascinating past'
Having stayed in hundreds of hotels around the world in my time, it takes a lot for one to leave me truly wowed, but that's exactly what I found when I stepped inside Henry's Townhouse in London. Unassuming from the outside, inside it's beautiful and unique, and with a fascinating story behind. I admit that I hadn't heard of it before visiting, but I certainly won't forget this hidden gem. Back in the 18th Century, the building, 24 Upper Berkeley Street in London's village-like Marylebone area, was the home of acclaimed author Jane Austen's (reportedly favourite) brother Henry, a failed barrister, I'm told, who helped to bring Jane's works to the public after her death in 1817. It's said that Jane visited her brother and his wife Cassandra here often, and was even rumoured to have penned parts of Sense and Sensibility here (fans of the novel might spot references to this townhouse in the pages). Over the years following, the building fell into disrepair, gradually existing as a run-down B&B until local Marylebone-born-and-raised businessman Steven Collins and his wife spotted its potential and snapped it up. Following an extensive restoration project during which the interiors were thoughtfully overhauled – to appear even grander than they actually would in Henry's day, Steven tells me, as the Austen family wasn't wealthy – Henry's Townhouse opened in 2020 with six bedrooms, two reception rooms and a pantry for breakfasts and meetings. Individual rooms can be booked, as you would a traditional hotel (a must for history buffs or literary fans), but where it really shines is as a single-use venue, which, Steven says, has been used for everything from hen parties and small weddings to London boltholes for rock stars and their entourages playing at the Royal Albert Hall (he if of course too discreet to drop names). It appears nothing is too much of an ask to arrange, as I hear stories of magicians lining the stairs and musicians playing in the baths. The former home of Jane Austen's brother and now a gorgeous six-bedroom hotel or exclusive use venue. The six bedrooms at Henry's Townhouse are all named after Jane Austen's relatives, small but perfectly designed, and individually decorated in sumptuous yet stylish designs. I stayed in the Cassandra room, decked out in soothing powder blue tones and with so many special touches, from the shell-shaped bath draped in curtains and the gilded dressing table to the artwork on the walls and the fresh flowers in bud glasses, plus a big desk should inspiration take you. Lying in the comfy bed at the end of the day underneath the huge chandelier, I felt like I was in Bridgerton. All rooms also have a complimentary minibar and posh snacks, as well as modern comforts such as a Dyson hair dryer and Votary toiletries. Due to its small size, Henry's Townhouse doesn't serve dinner, but breakfast in the downstairs pantry is included in your stay. You're spoilt for choice for dining out in the local area around Marylebone's charming high street though, and the staff are more than happy to help with recommendations and bookings. Rooms at Henry's Townhouse start from £595 including breakfast, and the property costs from £4,950 per night for exclusive use for up to 12 guests.
New Indian Express
13 hours ago
- Entertainment
- New Indian Express
What's on your cosy reads list?
It is a truth universally acknowledged that anyone weary of endless scrolling may find far greater delight in a modest volume — even if it's on a Kindle — than in any glowing device designed to distract. From Jane Austen's drawing rooms to Mary Oliver's meadows, readers find peace in words that see them, hold them, and — most wonderfully — ignore their phones. Whether in Murakami's silent cafés or beneath Tolstoy's snowdrifts, the ultimate accomplishment remains: turning pages into peace. For many, a cosy read is less about genre and more about feeling. Sharon Pothigai, a corporate lawyer, calls it a reaffirmation of life's beauty. Architect Subhiksha Thiagarajan links it to nostalgia, now tinged with an appreciation for melancholy. Varshini, a creative strategist, finds comfort in books that make her feel 'held and seen' — even those as quietly unsettling as Murakami's. 'For me, a cosy read is literature rooted in my homeland — Andhra, in Telugu. While I mostly read translations, I'm drawn to short stories that feel domestic and lighthearted, yet offer fresh insights about where I come from,' shares K Samuel Moses Srinivas, an assistant professor. For Salmaa Gafoor, a business professional, it is a retreat into familiar worlds: Jane Austen's wit or JK Rowling's magic (barring the queerphobia). Sam, a social scientist, sees it as any book that rekindles their love for reading — light or heavy.
Daily Mail
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
From a hit drama dubbed 'the new Slow Horses' to a beloved 1990s comedy that's finally made its streaming debut, our TV experts have rounded up the 20 best shows and films available to watch right now
The return of Sex And The City spin-off And Just Like That..., a murder mystery starring Jessica Biel and , and a fascinating insight into the life of Jane Austen are just a few of the gems on offer on streaming services right now. None of those tickle your fancy? Take a look at our full round-up of the 20 best shows and films available from our team of TV experts, ahead of a weekend telly binge...
The Guardian
a day ago
- Business
- The Guardian
As a Muslim girl in Bradford, I saw my story in Jane Austen's novels. Now I've directed a TV series about her
I grew up as the daughter of an imam in a conservative British-Pakistani community in Bradford. Our early years were spent in a large Victorian terrace owned by the local mosque council. When my father was replaced, we downsized overnight to a much smaller house on the other side of town. The loss of a beloved home, close friends and community was a deeply disorienting experience. Decades later, directing the new BBC series Jane Austen: Rise of a Genius, I found myself thinking back to that time. On the surface, my life and Jane Austen's couldn't be more different – an English novelist born in the 18th century and a working-class British-Pakistani girl. Austen's novels had always resonated with me when I read them as a girl. But learning more about her life as part of my director's prep, I realised just how many shared realities we had. I saw how similar Austen's family dynamics were to my own a couple of centuries down the line. When Austen's father stepped away from his post as a clergyman, it forced the family to leave their genteel rectory home for a series of ever more insecure living quarters. Though separated by culture, time and geography, like Austen I understood early the brutality of economics and just how vulnerable a family can become when its financial foundation is shaken. Devouring Austen's work as a teenager, I appreciated not just the storytelling but the survival tactics – strategies women used to maintain their dignity in a world that offered them very little agency. Growing up as a young woman from a Muslim background, I sometimes lived in the shadows, within the quiet restrictions and expectations of duty. I wanted to scream my rage into the abyss as I gingerly walked a tightrope between obedience and self-determination. Reading those novels, it wasn't the ballrooms and the bonnets that spoke to me, but the stakes. They captured the emotional cost of a world in which women had limited options and where marriage was more often an economic contract than a love story. This was something I had seen first-hand in many of the arranged marriages of the women around me. Though my father, like Austen's, passionately advocated for women's education, in our wider community education for girls was not widely encouraged. Teachers in my inner-city school were predominantly white, middle class and from posher postcodes. They assumed that as young Pakistani girls we would disappear into early marriages, and some didn't bother to hide their low expectations. That condescension stung. It made me hungry to prove them wrong, and to challenge whenever I could. Austen taught me that the domestic sphere could be radical. Her characters weren't obvious revolutionaries, but women who, through wit, tenacity and endurance, reshaped their own lives. My grandmother, widowed early, chose not to remarry, thereby ensuring her autonomy. It was a rare and courageous decision in her 1960s rural Kashmiri village. The memory of my grandmother's bold and brilliant choice lies in the very fabric of my DNA. Austen's cousin Eliza was also a woman who instinctively understood the power her widowhood afforded her to live by her own rules. It was an important lesson in how an intelligent woman with her wits about her could cleverly navigate and confound societal expectations. A lesson not lost on a young Jane Austen. Like Austen, I too have a large brood of siblings, and our home was noisy and full of stories. We couldn't afford expensive outings, but my father's bookcases groaned under the weight of his book collection: dusty encyclopedias, Islamic jurisprudence and Urdu translations of Rumi. I knew books were the portal to other worlds, other possibilities, and I read everything. Storytelling became an early refuge. I made my siblings act in hastily put together skits, all filmed on a clunky VHS recorder my parents could hardly afford, but which, like Austen's writing desk, was a crucial gift. Even then I was crafting scenes, directing chaos into meaning. Coming back to Austen's work as a film-maker, I saw what I hadn't as a teenager: the sharpness of her observations, her critiques of social climbing and conformity, the feminist undertones, the devastating awareness of how class, gender and power intertwine. As I dug deeper into Austen's life, I began to understand more why her work had struck such a chord with me as a teenager. While she wrote about women with seemingly limited options, it was always with a great deal of wry wit and a sense of hopefulness. I found inspiration in Austen's humour, and to this day my sisters and I still refer to our mum as Mrs Bennet in a nod to her impassioned pleas for us not to dismiss potential suitors. Most importantly, Austen left behind stories of female protagonists struggling with daily compromises to survive that still resonate with women today. The idea that it is possible to live truthfully. In Persuasion, Anne Elliot finds the strength to choose for herself after years of silence. That journey hit close to home. I didn't follow the expected path. I delayed marriage. I pursued education and entered a competitive, creative field where people like me were rarely seen. Telling Austen's story has felt deeply personal. It is a reclamation of the girl who once sat in her bedroom window reading Emma while the sound of Friday prayers echoed in the background. A tribute to her voice and my own hard-fought one. Austen's power, quiet but enduring, transcends time and cultural identity. Marking her 250th birthday isn't just about remembering a literary icon, but about recognising that across the centuries, some battles remain the same. And if that's not something a girl from Bradford can relate to, I don't know what is. Ali Naushahi is a TV director and writer
Belfast Telegraph
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Belfast Telegraph
‘Emma's such a bitch and yet you love her': 250 years since her birth, Jane Austen's books still resonate with modern audiences
On Christmas Day 2020, Laura Molloy, then 17 years old, received a set of Jane Austen novels from her brother. Stuck at home in Bray with little else to do, she started with Emma and was instantly hooked.
