“Prejudice and Pride”: One Editor’s Poignant Use of Genderswitching

Recently, I have been looking for the next exciting book to read after finishing the Hunger Games hype. As always, the internet has provided in an interesting way. While searching for interesting reads, I stumbled upon something interesting. Kate Harrad has undergone the task of editing books in the style of “genderswitching,” which is exactly as it sounds: she switches the gender of the characters in classic novels, including the entirety of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin, the entirety of which can be found on Amazon Kindle.

The genderswitched version of Pride and Prejudice is called Prejudice and Pride. Even in turning the title on its head, we are reminded of our bias that will be primarily called into question. I had begun reading under the assumption that I would notice the difference in the portrayal of characters, but would be able to see beyond the bias, myself. However, the very idea of a rich single woman who the characters conspire to set up with one of the five young boys illicited strange feelings, even from me.  No matter how much time I have spent trying to undo the societal prejudice foisted upon me since I was born, I couldn’t overlook that I felt a sympathy for these men that went beyond what I had felt for the women in the same circumstance. In addition to mourning their lack of autonomy, I mourned their masculinity, sensing the deep societal shame that went along with men being forced to be submissive to the whims of a woman.

And let us not forget the woman either, who, from the beginning I see as a vulture, despite my better efforts. My immediate impression of her is that she must be unattractive, mean, or otherwise unappealing, to have managed to age without marrying. My judgement of her character is swift and unyielding, despite all the qualities I know and love about her male counterpart in the original book (of whom she is an exact replica, with the exception of her gender). Even the description of the men as handsome or good humored seems much more diminutive and insulting to the true identity of the characters than it did in the original. Surely, counting men’s strengths by such trivial standards is a loss of their true redeeming and useful qualities.

Of course, this is what Harrad had in mind when she was editing the book. If the simple act of changing the gender can make such an impact on the way that we view the characters, what does that say about our society? Surely we have changed so that the society described in Pride and Prejudice is no longer a reflection of our society, but the intensity of disbelief and discomfort that I felt in reading the genderswitched version made me wonder how deeply held my own patriarchal beliefs are. Would other favorites make me equally uncomfortable, even if they were modern novels? I have applauded The Hunger Games so much for its strong female lead, but would the Harry Potter series be as convincing or appealing to me if the main character was a heroine instead of a hero? As progressive and empowering as I may find some books today, the depth of my discomfort in reading Prejudice and Pride has shown me that my perceptions, much like our society, are not as fair and equal as I would like to believe.