Like others have talked about on this thread, Jane Austen comes to mind. Writing into the early 1800's, she was the daughter of a pastor, and her novels reflect that particular world. She is particularly adept at rendering the difficulties of women at her level of society, with the understanding that, with very few exceptions, the sons were the ones to inherit estates, and the daughters, if they were not well married, could find themselves on the thorny precipice of total financial ruin. So choosing well in marriage was significant even just from a survival perspective. But Austen is able to wed that concern with the high mindedness of her heroines who would often pass up marriages that guaranteed position, and opulent estates, and instead opt for not just love, but a meeting of the minds. That most of these heroines manage to attain both wealth and inner happiness seems the just reward for their travails, including self sacrifice on behalf of others. For these reasons, I agree with others here that Austen's novels are elevating in the way I believe Laura is talking about. On top of that, Austen is a superb writer.
As for Austen movie wise, someone already mentioned the BBC version of
Persuasion -- although, if there are more than one of these, the BBC version that was released as a film in 1995, starring Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds, is exceptionally good.
Another exceptional Austen film to look for is the
Sense and Sensibility film that was directed by Ang Lee, and features Emma Thompson (who also wrote the wonderful adapted screenplay), and Kate Winslet.
As the title of the book (and film) suggests, Austen is ruminating on two very different character types: Thompson's Elinor, who, time and again must subordinate her deeper, more passionate emotions to the at times stifling requirements of honor and duty, while Winslet's Marianne (sister to Elinor) is prone to exposing all that she is feeling, which typically is on par with her excessive and passionate romantic idealism. Needless to say, since Austen is steering the ship, Elinor will ultimately prevail not only in love, but in demonstrating the value of right conduct for her younger sister Marianne, who manages to survive a near fatal romantic disappointment, and find happiness in a relationship that is more deeply nourishing, as opposed to excessively (and dangerously) passionate.
This scene eloquently shows Elinor's fraught predicament whereby the man she loves (Edward Ferris) -- due to his own standard of honor -- is bound to marry a selfish, conniving woman (Lucy Steele) whom he foolishly fell for years before, even though her lowly status would cause him to lose his inheritance (and now his happiness with Elinor):
But lest I leave you in despair, in true Austen fashion, Elinor here wins her man, Edward, played so charmingly by Hugh Grant (as you'll hear him talk about, his betrothed, Lucy, took a fancy to Edward's own brother, Robert, whose, uh, utter ickiness seemed to be much better suited to Lucy's own, um, utter ickiness -- not that Edward would say as much). It should be noted that although Edward lost his fortune due to his promise of marriage to Lucy (a fortune which has gone to his brother, ironically, since he's the one who winds up with the lowly Lucy), it is thanks in part to Elinor's self sacrificing efforts that Edward was granted a parish, which was always his inclination, even though it went against his mother's more worldly ambitions for him. Actually, it should be noted that Elinor acts as the conductor of all good and just things throughout this drama.
Marianne, as I stated earlier, will also marry well. So, these young women will not only avoid total ruin, but will prosper in happy marriages grounded in both soundness, and goodness:
catalogue.bnf.fr
), but it worried me that I would start longing for something that probably wasn't ever going to happen. That's a distraction I really don't need. But looking at those stories as a template for what could be is a great idea.
