As all commercials solemnly tell us, we live in "uncertain times." If it is not uncertain, it is certainly trying times. Or, it is nothing short of "unprecedented times."

With all due respect to the brands, I don't believe these are unprecedented times. It is truly unprecedented. It reminds me of places I never wanted to go but was often forced to venture to because I was an English major. It reminds me of a Jane Austen novel.

Jane Austen's novels always feature young women on the verge of adulthood. But instead of traveling the world, running around with friends, going to college, or getting a job so that her financial future does not depend on her fiancé's financial status, the heroine just ...... hanging out at home. With her parents. And with her siblings. And she waits. Her life is constrained by an endless list of things she should not do. For example, going literally anywhere without a real job, or enjoying a friendly hug with a potential love interest.

The home order puts many of us in situations not unlike these. Be with your family or be alone. Where once your world was full of spontaneous excursions to new places and chance encounters with promising strangers, now you are confined to the walls of your apartment or the edge of your front yard. Gone are the "chance encounters" with death. This unhappiness is only because we have robbed encounters of their vitality and joy.

Having arrived at the thesis that we are trapped in a Jane Austen novel, which is a nightmare, I thought I might have been a bit harsh on Austen, the literary icon and godmother of the objectively perfect film Clueless. So I contacted a group of experts who confirmed my hunch and advised me on how to proceed. As long as we live in Austinland, can we live with this?

I called Linda Troost, an English professor at Washington and Jefferson College in Pennsylvania and a Jane Austen expert specializing in film adaptation (she and her husband co-edited the first book on the subject: Jane Austen in Hollywood. Life under COVID has many parallels with Austen's work. There are many.

For starters, there is the forced and strict separation from the community and the concomitant inability to expand social circles. Doucette noted that at Chorton House, Jane Austen's brother's mansion, "it's really isolated" because it is a 30-minute walk from the nearest market. Austin's shopping trips "may have been one of the only ways she could socialize with people outside the family." (Incidentally, realizing that the only opportunity to chat with new acquaintances was a fleeting weekly produce shopping trip was the genesis of my falling into the SOS spiral of Jane Austen's novel in the first place.)

In late 18th century upper middle class England, " . opportunities to meet people, unless they were friends of the family, were very limited. 'You have to wait for someone to come to you. You can't go out and look for someone. You can't just wander out and visit them without an excuse." [Many of Jane Austen's heroines end up marrying friends of friends or brothers of friends. In Austen's world, it becomes clear that anyone who comes beyond what you know is ultimately a scoundrel, a free spirit of the highest order, or some other disqualified person.

I suggest to Troost that the strategy of waiting for a friend to have a brother who will date her is not ideal for the modern woman. She thought of it this way. There is that wonderful moment in Pride and Prejudice where Jane Bennet is sequestered in Netherfield Park: ......" . Isolation. I can relate.

Mrs. Bennett deliberately sent Jane out in the rain on horseback so that Jane would get a cold and be forced to stay at Netherfield until her health returned, in order to give her a chance to flirt with a man she met at a dance. It's a Kris Jenner-level strategy. Very cunning, but I must say that in the current climate, I would not recommend it.

While Jane is recuperating, Jane's sister, Elizabeth, goes to visit her and lives with Mr. Darcy, who was also visiting Netherfield.

"So that's lovely," offered Tolsto. 'But you must be confined to the right house at the right time.'

Assuming that things work out so that Austen's novel character meets someone new (e.g., her friend's cute little brother or a much older, landed man with whom she has nothing in common), will she be able to touch them?

"Touching someone," says Tolsto, "was a very intimate thing. So unless you were dancing, you rarely touched them". For a fleeting moment, your gloved hand might be palm to palm with the suitor's palm. That's about as close as you can get."

"There is a really important theme in Jane Austen," says Duquette, "of politeness. Just as we are six feet away from each other out of a mixture of kindness (not wanting to infect others) and fear (not wanting to infect others), so the characters in Austen's novel are six feet away from each other out of respect for others and how they will be judged or ridiculed if they fail to follow such a code of conduct. They were wary of subverting the social norms that dictated how they interacted with one another for fear of what they might be judged or ridiculed for.

If you find any of these spaces bothersome, you are not the first to come to that conclusion. Duquette quoted Charlotte Bronte's words about Jane: "You might say that Jane has no passion." Duquette objects to this characterization." Boundaries of propriety do not restrain desire, they increase it."

She pointed to a scene in Persuasion in which Captain Wentworth overhears Anne Eliot "passionately defending the immutability of women." Wentworth learns that despite the fact that his and Anne's engagement has broken off, Anne still loves him. 'So he sits down and silently writes this declaration of love and leaves it there for her. 'He leaves the room and she reads it in his absence and realizes that he still loves her.'

I am sorry to interrupt here, but this is a classic example of Austen's passion. He is in the same room as the one he loves, but instead of going up to her and saying so, he ...... Write her a letter ...... Put it on the table and ...... walk out of the room," I was overwhelmed by this not-so-exaggerated gesture, but as Duquette astutely pointed out, "It's just like the way we get deliveries today. It's a no-contact delivery."

"The letters he writes are so passionate," she added. I wonder if that is still the case today. Are texts, Facebook messages, and even emails taking on an intensity that they never had before COVID-19? Duquette says that our digital communications are now "so ...... because we don't know when we'll see each other near or in person. He reasoned, "It has taken on the intensity of a longing.

This sounds like torture, but Austin's expert argues that it need not be. Says Tolst, "Distancing is actually quite romantic." She believes that in a post-COVID world, one might be surprised at how exhilarating extremely PG-like contact can feel. "If you've been in a relationship for a long time and all of a sudden he kisses your hand ...... Wow, that's exciting. They enjoy the satisfaction of being late."

Duquette finds inspiration in the "patience and endurance" of Austen's heroines. She cited "Mansfield Park," one of Austen's longer novels. In the paperback, there are 400 pages before Fanny and Edmund fall in love."

Austin was very lonely and, like Ur Millennials, sometimes referred to plants as "friends." Fanny never lost hope." I think there is a close relationship between hope and desire.

And I must offer a counter-argument: maybe the real takeaway from these books will be to escape segregation with less patience than ever. The things you refrained from doing, the things you refrained from saying, the hands you didn't hold, the feelings you kept locked up inside you ....... It doesn't have to be this way. When the inoculated masses are able to socialize again, there is no need to refrain. I can't wait 400 pages to confess my love to someone I like. Absolutely not "in this economy".

To read more stories like this, including celebrity news, beauty and fashion advice, savvy political commentary, and fascinating features, sign up for the Marie Claire newsletter.

Click here to sign up (opens in new tab)