Writing in The Conversation, Dr Lucy Thompson from our Department of English & Creative Writing is one of six leading Austen experts who have made their case for her ultimate novel – but the winner is up to you.
To mark the 250th anniversary of her birth, we’re pitting Jane Austen’s much-loved novels against each other in a battle of wit, charm and romance. Six leading Austen experts have made their case for her ultimate novel, but the winner is down to you. Cast your vote in the poll at the end of the article, and let us know the reason for your choice in the comments. This is Jane Austen Fight Club – it’s bonnets at dawn…
Sense and Sensibility (1811)
Championed by Lucy Thompson, lecturer in 19th-century literature and creative writing, Aberystwyth University
Sense and Sensibility is Austen’s most quietly radical novel. As her first published work, it may be less polished than her later fiction, but it is no less incisive.
It lays bare the emotional cost of living in a world governed by reputation, family obligation and gendered expectation. Excluded from inheritance and displaced from their home, the Dashwood sisters must navigate constant scrutiny. Through Elinor and Marianne, Austen dramatises two strategies for survival in a society obsessed with appearances.
Born from an earlier epistolary draft, the novel retains a sharp interest in how information circulates and misleads. Gossip doesn’t just constrain; it distorts. Letters are spied upon, conversations overheard. Assumptions take on the weight of fact.
In this world, everyone watches – but not everyone truly sees. Sense and Sensibility may wear a quieter face than Emma or Pride and Prejudice, but it is Austen’s sharpest early critique of how appearances govern lives.
This article is part of a series commemorating the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth. Despite having published only six books, she is one of the best-known authors in history. These articles explore the legacy and life of this incredible writer.
Pride and Prejudice (1813)
Championed by Andrew McInnes, reader in English literature, Edge Hill University
Everyone already knows the best Austen novel: Pride and Prejudice. Why? Elizabeth Bennet. Lizzy is so charismatic that you might mistake the novel’s title for an abstract problem, and not Darcy’s pride versus her prejudice.
We share her prejudices because Austen makes them so delicious. We roll our eyes at Mrs Bennet because Lizzy finds her exasperating. Wickham is seductive because he satisfies our inner bitch. And we fall in love with Darcy alongside Lizzy.
Pride and Prejudice is the funniest and sexiest of Austen’s novels. In it, she allows herself a swoon-worthy romance without a hitch. Unlike Northanger Abbey’s Henry Tilney, Darcy doesn’t fall in love because Lizzy adores him, but falls first. Darcy is a complex man – shy, domineering, funny – and not a drip like Eds Ferrars (Sense and Sensibility) or Bertram (Mansfield Park). And unlike Emma, Lizzy builds healthy relationships with other women.
Austen called Pride and Prejudice “too light and bright and sparkling” and joked that it could do with an essay on Walter Scott or Napoleon. But we know that would be a crime. It is just light and bright and sparkling enough to outshine the others.
Mansfield Park (1814)
Championed by Amanda Vickery, professor in early modern history, Queen Mary University of London
Pride and Prejudice is often the first grown-up novel young girls read, but Mansfield Park is the only Austen novel about a little girl growing up.
All Austen’s fictions are versions of the female-centred courtship novel, usually covering a single year, with the heroine safely married to a deserving gentleman by the last page. Yet her heroines are mostly formed young women. Only in Mansfield Park do we meet our heroine as a little girl – and a puny and cowering little girl at that.
Mansfield Park is Austen’s bildungsroman (the novel of becoming) on a par with that other girls’ classic, Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre (1847). Like poor, plain Jane, Fanny Price is a girl of no consequence – a Cinderella figure in a mansion of the rich and selfish.
Fanny is shy, frail and physically timid, but she is not a moral coward. She learns to bear her lot with dignity, and to hold fast to what she believes. By volume three, Fanny is at last the centre of her own story. Mansfield Park is not just a love story, it is a life story.
Emma (1815)
Championed by Ruvani Ranasinha, professor of global literature, King’s College London
Emma Woodhouse is Jane Austen’s most vividly realised, proto-feminist heroine. Witty, clever and attractive, Emma is supremely self-confident and flawed. She challenges every expectation of female propriety and is full of contradictions: self-centred yet deeply attached to her hypochondriac, indulgent father; snobbish but kind.
Emma revels in meddling in the romantic lives of others, especially her protégée, Harriet Smith. When her carefully laid plans unravel, the busybody makes mortifying mistakes and learns self-knowledge: “It darted through her with the speed of an arrow, that Mr Knightley must marry no-one but herself!”
All Austen’s novels are shot through with the awareness of the role of wealth and class in marriage. But Emma – “an heiress of thirty thousand pounds” – is free from the intense competition among the women for young men with positions and prospects. At the same time, she attracts men like Mr Elton seeking women with landed connections and dowries. This is why the novel both responds to Austen’s historical moment and speaks to our own.
Northanger Abbey (1817)
Championed by Octavia Cox, departmental lecturer in English literature, University of Oxford
Northanger Abbey is a riot of jokes. Nobody and nothing is spared: not the heroine, convention, society – even readers. There’s everything marvellous you’d expect from an Austen novel (sharp satire of patriarchy and socioeconomic weaponisation, laughter at human absurdity and pompousness, beautifully wrought witty expression, a rollicking good yarn, irony), but with extra sass.
Its bombastic intrusive authorial narrative voice (perhaps the closest we get to Austen’s own), constantly makes in-jokes with readers about the action. It’s Austen’s most meta-fictional text, playing with readers’ expectations about novels (for example, joking that her novel, ironically, “is a new circumstance in romance” despite depicting nothing “new in common life”).
Its “defence of the novel” passage is a proto-feminist rallying call-to-arms for female authors to celebrate each other’s work. Northanger Abbey’s meta-fictionality reveals much about Austen’s aim and style as an author, making it a must-read for all Austen-lovers. Oh, and it’s funny. Damned funny.
Persuasion (1817)
Championed by Richard de Ritter, lecturer in English literature, University of Leeds
Persuasion contains the greatest love letter in all English literature. It is the culmination of a slow-burning romance between the heroine, Anne Elliot, and Captain Frederick Wentworth, the man she has loved for eight long years. “You pierce my soul,” Wentworth writes to Anne with striking vulnerability: “I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late.” (Spoiler: he is not too late.)
The brilliance of Persuasion lies in the depiction of its complex heroine. At 27, Anne Elliot is older and wiser than Austen’s earlier protagonists. Disregarded by her comically narcissistic family, the depth of Anne’s personality is revealed by Austen’s prose style, which is at its most luminous and expressive. Readers are plunged into the mind of the novel’s heroine. We witness her innermost thoughts and feelings as she negotiates the awkwardness, excitement and, finally, the sheer joy of embracing a future with Wentworth.
Persuasion is the final novel that Austen completed before her death in 1817: she was at the peak of her powers. It is her most moving and her greatest work.
Now the experts have made their case, it’s your turn to decide which of Austen’s six completed novels is her best work. Vote in the poll below to and see if our other readers agree with you.
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