Poor men. They haven't got a chance.

On behalf of those of us (aka women) who are fond of Jane Austen and her film incarnations, I must break it to the rest of the world that, I'm sorry, you'll just never quite measure up.

You see, the Jane Austen men (at least the leading men) will always be universally charming, romantic, and impeccably dressed. And, while the rest of you (aka living & breathing men) certainly have powers of charm & romance, these powers seem to dissipate all too quickly. You sometimes blow your noses too loudly, or leave a bit of a mess around the toilet. In the world of romance, some of you may pursue too hard, and others (shockingly) never fall in love with the right person at all (i.e. the woman who wants you). In short, you're real--you have problems and issues just like us, and we can't have that, now can we?

Jane Austen men always properly dispose of their hankies. And, at the end, they always seem to screw up enough courage to tell the woman of their dreams that they are lost unless she saves them. How can you blame us then when about every five seconds there's a woman who sighs as the ending credits of Pride & Prejudice start scrolling down the screen, or as she sets down Persuasion after the long-awaited reunion of Anne and Captain Wentworth, or as she realizes while reading Sense and Sensibility just how much Colonel Brandon cares for Marianne, and that really he can make her much more happy than Willoughby ever could.

Alas, you real-life red-blooded men. Try as hard as you may, you can never quite measure up to those little expectations we generate for you. You can never truly be Mr. Darcy. It really isn't your fault, though. And eventually, we women will put down the book, or turn off the television, and come back to our senses...but perhaps never quite all the way. Be patient with us, will you? There's a dear.