“Jane Austen Wrecked My Life” (or, “Jane Austen a gâché ma vie”) is a catchy, provocative title for writer/director Laura Piani’s debut feature, but it is a bit of a misnomer. Her heroine, Agathe (Camille Rutherford) might harbor that fear deep inside, but it’s never one that she speaks aloud. A lonely bookseller working at the famed Shakespeare and Company bookshop in Paris, she gets lost in the love notes left on the shop mirror, and complains to her best friend and coworker Felix (Pablo Pauly) that she was born in the wrong century, unwilling to engage in casual “digital” connection. Deeply feeling and highly imaginative, perhaps she believes she’s alone because she won’t settle for anything less than a Darcy.

Good thing then that Felix, posing as her “agent,” sends off a few chapters of her fantasy-induced writing to the Jane Austen Residency. And who should pick up Agathe from the ferry but a handsome, prickly Englishman, Oliver (Charlie Anson), the great-great-great-great-grandnephew of Ms. Austen herself. She can’t stand him. It’s perfect.

“Jane Austen Wrecked My Life” is the kind of warm romance that will make any bookish dreamer swoon, as this thoroughly modern woman with old-fashioned ideas about love experiences her own Austen-esque tumble through her own emotions. While she initially identifies with the wilting old maid Anne from “Persuasion,” her shyly budding connection with Oliver and questions about her blurred-lines friendship with Felix is more Elizabeth Bennett in “Pride and Prejudice.” A pastoral English estate is the ideal setting for such a dilemma.

The casting and performances are excellent for this contemporary, meta update to Austen — Rutherford is elegant but often awkward and fumbling as Agathe; Anson conveys Oliver’s passionate yearning behind his reserved, wounded exterior with just enough Hugh Grant-ian befuddlement. Pauly plays the impulsive charlatan with an irrepressible charm.

But it isn’t just the men that have Agathe in a tizzy. The film is as romantic about books, literature, writing and poetry as it is about such mundane issues as matters of the flesh. A lover of books and literature, Agathe strives to be a writer but believes she isn’t one because of her pesky writer’s block. It’s actually a dam against the flow of feelings — past traumas and heartbreaks — that she attempts to keep at bay. It’s through writing that Agathe is able to crack her heart open, to share herself and to welcome in new opportunities.

“Writing is like ivy,” Oliver tells Agathe, “it needs ruins to exist.” It’s an assurance that her broken past hasn’t broken her, but has given her the necessary structure to let the words grow. The way the characters talk about what literature means to them, and what it means to write, will seduce the writerly among the viewers, these discussions of writing even more enchanting than any declarations of love or ardent admiration.

If you’ve read any Austen (or watched any of the films made from Austen’s novels), Piani’s film will be pleasantly predictable in its outcomes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not an enjoyable journey — it’s our expectations, both met and upended, that give the film its appealing cadence. It never lingers too long, just sweet enough in its displays to avoid any saccharine aftertaste or eye-rolling sentiment.

With its lovely verdant environs and gentle rhythms, there’s a salve-like quality to “Jane Austen Wrecked My Life,” a balm for any battered writer or romantic’s soul. It may be utter fantasy, but it’s the kind of escape you’ll want to revisit again and again, like a favorite Austen novel. And as it turns out, our heroine was wrong. Jane Austen didn’t wreck her life, rather, she opened it up to the possibilities that were right in front of her.

(“Jane Austen Wrecked My Life’ contains language, some sexual content and nudity)