What's Next, the Emily Bronte Centerfold?

A couple of weeks ago I talked about what to do when a favorite artist has disagreeable politics. But what if they're just plain ugly? According to this article in yesterday's New York Times, a debate is raging over the physical qualities of 19th-century author Jane Austen. Apparently, there was never a proper portrait made of her, and thus readers and scholars have been left to their own imaginations when picturing her physical features. Now a fairly crude sketch by Austen's sister is leading to some hand wringing that, to put it bluntly, Jane wasn't - as the kids would say it today - teh hawtness.

Who cares? Putting aside the observation that beauty is much more than skin deep, what would it matter? What if Austen was a bitter, vicious, angry woman festooned with boils and (to quote Monty Burns) a mighty hump? Does that change the quality of her work? Does it make it any more or less entertaining, relevant, or interesting? I can't say that it changes my view of Pride and Prejudice from my high school days.

It seems such ado about nothing. And perhaps a sad comment on our very visual, very superficial, 21st Century culture.