Dear Voices,

Beethoven was only five years Jane Austen's elder. What a pity they did not meet: they could have made beautiful music together.

Furthermore, the mental deafness of a male parent is already a motif in MP, P&P, and NA, and P, and in S&S father is dead. There could well be great understanding.

But, could we put up with the inevitable joyous outpouring of happy music from Ludwig?
John

From the Meister: I think they had
the same birth date - did they not? For me
Jane Austen is more in tune with Mozart.

Dear Folks,

I have watched a child sent away from a poor home to be raised in the home of a well-off relative. The youngster was not appreciative - ever. I witnessed that person raised to maturity. Maturity brought some measure of understanding, but never gratitude. It was an affecting experience for me to watch that play out. If you want to understand any part of this, re-read Mansfield Park. Fanny Price is the most perfect of all of Jane Austen's perfect creations and she is a wonderful, wonderful woman in the bargain.

I have no idea how Jane Austen learned these things, but there it is.

I have begun a slow, careful re-reading of Mansfield Park (for obvious reasons). I am, once again, in awe of the depth of Jane Austen's understanding and skill. The story begins with a description of the Miss Wards, all pretty but intended for different fates. One is to become Lady Bertram, another Aunt Norris, and the third Mrs. Price. Jane Austen draws a striking family resemblance between Lady Bertram and Mrs. Price, I am thinking about a resemblance in habits and attitudes. Both are lethargic and somewhat indifferent, and both are insensitive to their own children. The Miss Ward that would become Aunt Norris is different in every respect. Incidentally, I believe that it can be inferred from the opening paragraph of the novel that Aunt Norris is the oldest sister - check me on that. That is perfect, because Jane Austen gives her the personality of a controlling, domineering oldest sister while the other two are made overly compliant.

Some may think that Fanny Price's mother intends to do her a great favor by sending her to live in a more comfortable environment. Jane Austen dispels that possibility when our Lady explains that the mother actually wanted to send her son William, his mother's favorite. Mrs. Price is a bit surprised that the Mansfield branch sends for the girl instead. But, it is good to get rid of any burden, so Fanny is sent along but not, however, with a glowing recommendation:

"... assuring them of her daughter's being a very well-disposed, good-humored girl, and trusting they would never have cause to throw her off. She spoke of her farther as somewhat delicate and puny, ..."

And a burden out of sight is out of mind:

"Of the rest [of Fanny's family other than brother William,] she saw nothing; nobody seemed to think of her ever going amongst them again, even for a visit, nobody at home seemed to want her; ..."

The child was ten years old and her mother betrayed her. I think it significant that when Fanny grieves and is then drawn out by Edmund, she talks only of her brother - of William who has made her promise to write him, and who was "her advocate with her mother (of whom he was the darling) in every distress". And then Edmund endears himself to Fanny when he first helps her fulfill her promise and then does the most wondrous of things, he sends William half a guinea - that is about three week's salary for a servant.

And then Fanny comes under the control of Aunt Norris and Lady Bertram, and becomes the occasional plaything of the vain, condescending Miss Bertrams! Jane Austen has a heart so she also places some excellent men in that home. I will save Edmund for another time because I want to concentrate on Sir Thomas in this posting.

Edmund is very much like his father - there is the same instinctive kindness, the same selflessness. Edmund is far more considerate and sensitive, but then a second son does not have the distractions of the considerable responsibilities and concerns of a father. The novel begins with the information that Sir Thomas married to disadvantage - much as did Darcy - right? For this and for other reasons, Sir Thomas has concerns about money throughout the novel. Lady Bertram doesn't deserve him, but he never seems to notice and he never stints when trying to help her family. It was Sir Thomas who provided Aunt Norris's husband with a comfortable "living". He then tried to devise some way to help the other sister, Fanny's mother, after her lowly marriage but in that he was to be thwarted at first:

"... Sir Thomas had interest, which, from principle as well as pride, from a general wish of seeing all that were connected with him in situations of respectability, he would have been glad to exert for the advantage of Lady Bertram's sister [Fanny's mother]; but her husband's profession was such as no interest could reach; and before he had time to devise any other method of assisting them, an absolute breach between the sisters had taken place."

But then, Sir Thomas does find a way to be useful; he begins by accepting Fanny into his home. He has some objections at first; he seems concerned that his ability to help his own children will be diluted and he has some concern that he is being asked to raise a wife for one of his sons. (Perhaps we are to understand that he does not want a son to repeat the father's mistake of a disadvantageous marriage.) After he accommodates Fanny herself, his thoughts turn to her family.

"Amid the cares and the complacency which his own children suggested, Sir Thomas did not forget to do what he could for the children of Mrs. Price; he assisted her liberally in the education and disposal of her sons as they became old enough for a determinant pursuit: and Fanny, though almost totally separated from her family, was sensible of the truest satisfaction in hearing of any kindness towards them, or of any thing at all promising in their situation or conduct...."

And, of course, he took two of Mrs. Price's daughters into his own home and raised them. Excellent man! Excellent niece! Of course, Sir Thomas is not a perfect man - hey, this is a Jane-Austen character. He says some unintentionally hurtful things to Fanny and he makes her weep, but that is all another posting.

Dear Ashton,

Thank you, ever so. I have been forming a mental picture of Mansfield Park as Christian allegory. It seems to work well and it gets rid of some of the most vexatious problems in MP. There are those who hate the sight of the word "allegory"  but if a thing looks like an allegory, swims like an allegory, walks like an allegory, and quacks or whistles like an allegory, I am the last man to insist that it is an alligator. Jane said that this novel would be about ordination it is about ordination, and it takes the form of Christian allegory. No one is to talk to me about alligators, no matter how much the first part of the novel may look as though the beautiful child is to carried off by a really nasty alligator in some sort ritualistic sacrifice.

But I remember my promise to extricate Charlotte Lucas from the witch's bonfire.  I still intend to ride to the rescue, my elephant charging and trumpeting, my feet on a tusk, one hand holding onto the head decoration and the other ready to sweep Charlotte out of the fire to safety and a respected old age with her husband.

If I can compartmentalize the two novels, then I may yet avoid being all promise and no delivery.
John

From the Meister: being a card-carrying, tree-hugging,
Greenpeace-supporting kind o' Meister, I want to know
why we can't discuss Christian alligators around here?

Dear Ashton,

Perhaps my thanks to you should have been less vague.

Let me be thoroughly un-vague, if it is in my power:
I was stunned by and delighted with your piece on Fanny Price. He has been reading my private journal, I said to the computer screen. (Does it matter that I do not keep a journal? Ages hence, scholars will insist that I was unworthy in my life to be the study of their universities. Where is your evidence? a frightened graduate student will ask. He burnt his journals because he had something to hide, they will thunder. That is your evidence. But there is no evidence that he ever kept a journal, the terrified grad student will meekly offer. Of course there is no evidence, they will say. He burnt all the evidence.)

Anyway, I no longer feel like a lost soul wailing in the darkness.  Fanny Price has yet another friend that I did not know about. I thank you for being a vigorous and elegant champion of the fair maid of the attic. I look forward to more.

And I look forward to seeing postings from all Voices on these matters and others, too.

(Shouldn't you be supporting the World Wildlife Fund.)

I look forward to revelations about Christian alligators, but it will be a mighty job to sway me to the belief that the alligators in MP can harm anyone but themselves.
John

From the Meister: I apologize if I seemed flippant - it was
just one of my spur-of-the-moment things; it meant nothing.
Yes! WWF and PETA and most especially anything arrayed
against the use of animals in medical "science".

Dear John,

I wish to God you would hurry up!  I've been standing here amongst the faggots, at the foot of Charlotte's bonfire, for MONTHS, with naught but a garden hose between Mrs Lucas and the flames. Is there a seat in the howdah for me, too?

Mansfield Park does indeed deal with religion, though that popular quote to which you allude is now supposed to be a misquote - I'll look up the reference for you and post it next time.  Jane Austen in her later years was interested in, and perhaps drawn to, the 'evangelical movement' within the Church of England, and wrote to her niece, Fanny Knight, that she thought perhaps 'we should all be evangelical.'  This leads me to what I feel is a telling passage in Mansfield Park: 'Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by their proper name, but when he talked of (Fanny) having such a steadiness and regularity of conduct as might warrant any man in the fullest dependence on her faith and integrity, he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well principled and religious.'  Now, given the social structure, and the inheritance laws, why would a man wish for a wife of 'faith and integrity?' What Jane Austen is saying is that even Henry Crawford would not imagine that Fanny would screw around. His children would be, indeed, his children. Had the marriage taken place, and the projected 'regular flirtation at the yearly meetings at Sotherton and Everingham' occurred between Henry and Mrs Rushworth, then I would not care to vouch for Mr Rushworth's offspring!

As an aside, this kind of thinking, and acting, was accepted sub rosa practice in English upper-class society by the time of Edward, Prince of Wales, the son of Queen Victoria.  He had morals:  when he seduced women of the aristocracy, he had the good taste to wait until they were married, and had provided their husbands with a son and heir.  The annals of the English aristocracy is simply littered with litters of other men's children - all appearing after the legitimate heir had been produced.  I suspect they are still at it, though for much of this century they have had to rely on American money to provide the gloss on the solid oak of Debrett's Peerage.  If you find this line of thought interesting, might I suggest the biography of Jenny, Lady Randolph Churchill, for starters?   She was an American, you know..
Julie

Dear Julie,

Please continue the struggle against the roaring fire until I can join in the rescue. It is not merely a matter placing your howdah do on the elephant's back, but she must also become enured to the sight of fire. Carthage, remember Carthage. We must not lose the attempt simply because the other side, the enemy?, will use polished relectors to hurl blinding light into Jane Austen's eyes and so try to prevent the rescue. "Jane Austen" is our battle elephant. Jane is entirely powerful enough to rescue Charlotte, but we must make all our preparations ahead of time. You are ready, but I am not. So, if you prefer to ensure that the fire does no further present harm to Charlotte, you must go ahead alone  but filled with the courage and resolution that we have all seen, I feel certain that you will prevail alone, and perhaps I can arrive in time to drive off some of the inevitable counterattacks. We shall never erase the enemy entirely from the face of the earth. But we may show the way to others to champion Charlotte against the undeserved and grievous insults that an envious or misled future is sure to threaten.
John

From the Meister: Hee-hee,
too late! The woman is toast

Dear Heather,

I agree with you that a film can give us a different perspective on a novel, or even an historical event and that it's a good thing.  However, if the trailer is to be believed (and not just an ad man's fantasy) Mansfield Park the movie is a new piece of fiction having little more in common with Jane Austen's novel than the title and the characters' names.  Again, the writer/director has every right to do this, but not to deceive the public as to what the work actually is.

As for the Shakespeare In Love question, you're comparing apples to oranges in more ways than one.  "SIL" is a piece of historical fiction and is advertised as such.  Had it been advertised as true history, I wouldn't have enjoyed it anywhere near as much, because I couldn't have ignored the inaccuracies and anachronisms.   Mansfield Park, however,  is being advertised as a film of the novel by Jane Austen  and as such should be so within reason.  It should remain true to the tone, spirit, characterization, and action of the original novel.  That doesn't mean a scene-for-scene recreation of what we've read  the broad range of discussion on this board indicates that there's an awful lot leeway within the pages as written.

Also, we can discuss what did or didn't happen during Elizabeth's reign...did she ever attend the theatre in disguise?  Was John Webster a torturer of small animals?  We'll never know.  But that's not the case within the universe of Mansfield Park.  If one claims to be making a movie of the novel, then we know exactly what Sir Thomas said to Fanny when she refused Mr. Crawford. We may have to take some liberties to edit or make it more understandable to modern audiences, but ethically we can't change the conversation to something entirely different.

In the wider scheme of things I resent what I see as the implied revision of Jane Austen. Remaking her into a woman who held the exact same opinions as your average late 20th century American.  It's likely to be a lie and certainly it's an insult to the intelligence of the reader. Yes, it's is a pet peeve, why do you ask?
Cheryl

Dear Voices,

I have just seen the three-minute trailer of the Rozema version of Mansfield Park. It may be the most beautiful film, ever. If we remember that this is Rozema's film and not JA's, we should all enjoy it. But it looks like some plot ways that are not Jane's at all.

Go to Miramax.com.  Choose Miramax Cafe (click). Choose Quick-time Mac/PC (click). Above this choose download (click). Left, under the box, choose the thing on the timing bar to begin playing. Three minutes. Place cursor on the timing bar cursor. Drag to left. Click again on start. See what you missed the first time.
John

Dear Cheryl,

You make several good points and have answered my question with aplomb.  At least, I think that's what you answered it with.  At any rate, you have made some excellent points and I am satisfied with everything except the overwhelming sense that the film has already been well and thoroughly panned before any of us have even seen it.

Meanwhile, I would love to be able to respond to Ray's wonderfully expressed posting to which the Meister has pointed, but I can think of absolutely nothing to add!  I don't think I have been so moved by a book since my childhood.  Grey-ears The Donkey, I think it was.  I'm absolutely serious about this, by the way.  I was moved to tears, and at the age of forty-one still remember the emotion that book left me with.  I think it was because that was the first book I ever read where the hero died.  Until then, I hadn't thought it possible.  No book has moved me so thoroughly ever since.  But I'll keep you posted.

Dear Heather,

Thank you.  I feel rather like Catherine Morland -- except of course I'm walking with great aplombness rather than "elasticity".

The Mansfield Park hoopla reminds me a lot of when the movie Starship Troopers was initially released. (SF fans being at least as fanatical and far more nerdy than JA fans.) There were three basic groups:  those who read and love Rbt. Heinlein, those who read and hate Rbt. Heinlein, those who never heard of Rbt. Heinlein, just the movie.  The read and love hated the movie because it wasn't the book  those who read and hate didn't think you should make movies written by a man like Heinlein (extreme libertarian) and the rest were split evenly between great action movie or terrible action movie.

In the end, it was your average gratuitous sex-and-violence filled action movie masquerading as science fiction and had very little in common with the book.   Strictly as a movie, it was better than expected -- as an interpretation of the novel it contained the outline of the plot but nothing more.  (Oddly enough though, I think Heinlein would have enjoyed it despite what many saw as a perversion of the novel's message.)

The point being, no matter how little I expect from the movie, I'll drive the 80+ miles to Spokane and pony up my $4.50 (bargain matinee) when and if it gets here.  Nonetheless, I'm not expecting much of it as a film, based strictly on the length of the trailer.  And despite all appearances, I'm trying  hard to reserve my opinion of it as an interpretation of the novel until I see it.
Cheryl

Dear Folks,

Heather and John remind us that we should wait to see the film before we judge and that is good advice. Cheryl and John have seen the trailer and John thinks there might be something beautiful there; based on what I have read, I suspect John might be right.

Still, Cheryl has made some excellent points about movie adaptations in general and I want to augment and underscore her comments. There are a number of different categories that we might notice and evaluate. There are the excellent adaptations of Andrew Davies (P&P-95, Emma-96, Middlemarch). Davies makes the best possible contribution because he attempts only a faithful and sincere reproduction of the vision of those authors'.

Another admirable attempt is that of imitation - the sincerest form of flattery. For me, the best example is Apocalypse Now which is a wonderful adaptation of Heart of Darkness - Superb and brilliant! Coppola shows the greatest respect for Joseph Conrad when he decided not to title his film Heart of Darkness because the film is set in another time and some of motivations of some of the characters are different. I believe that because Coppola lets himself be inspired by Conrad's great work without exploiting the novelist's name and reputation in order to promote his own views of the War in Vietnam. Bravo! Others might point to Clueless as another example in this category.

Still another type of imitation is one of style rather than story. A good example is Whit Stillman's imitation of Jane Austen in Metropolitan. I think he pulls it off, but you may decide that to be my wishful thinking. Stillman announces his intention by having central characters refer to our Lady. I love that film. Whit Stillman is the most important Male-Voice-in-Praise-of-Jane-Austen in this world.

And then there are the Bowdlers. Thomas Bowdler (1754-1825) was a contemporary of Jane Austen and was the editor of expurgated versions of - brace yourself - Shakespeare! What is Heather's opinion of Bowdler? indifference or outrage? There are simple people in this world who believe that the classic writers did not get it exactly right or had offensive opinions. In our times, we have such Bowdlers as Emma Thompson, Kenneth Branaugh, and Jane Campion. In fact, all Bowdlers are hair brained. My view is that there are always a great number of highly intelligent and creative people in this world, but they are rarely worth listening to because they are not wise. I know of no wise people in the world at this time - present company excepted. Wise people have been alive at times and they have left a written record - they are called "classics". I need help understanding the classics because I am neither wise nor knowledgeable. I don't need some numbskull Bowdler scribbling his or her own pet, crackpot views on a classic work. Let me make a dire prediction about the forthcoming version of Mansfield Park - this just a guess that you can tease me about later. I predict that the character of Sir Thomas Bertram will be greatly altered, altered to the point that his nature will be the exact opposite of that intended by Jane Austen.

Dear Ashton,

I have read some of Bowdler's Shakespeare.  Very bland, and terribly frustrating.  Had he destroyed all other versions of Shakespeare but his own, he would have simultaneously destroyed my capacity to despise him for it - having nothing to which I could compare his works.  As he stands, I am indifferent to him.  If he thought he was being noble, I won't fault him for his efforts.

But of course, you are asking me how I feel about bowdlerization.  The first time I read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland it was the Reader's Digest version.  I was old enough to know that I was not reading a complete version.  It did two things for me: it whetted my appetite and it boosted my confidence - I read the "whole" book in the time it took my parents to complete their visit.  I felt I should be able to tackle the complete story.

Reading the full version did two things for me:  it gave me a great appreciation for the author, and it convinced me not to bother with Reader's Digest versions anymore.

The Reader's Digest version of all this is, I'm okay with all versions of a book, with or without the same title.  They all have their purpose.  Just leave the original intact somewhere so that I have the option to ignore the rest.

What is your opinion of Jane Austen's intent with respect to Mr. Bertram? Is he, or is he not a Christian alligator?  You have offered up very little material in that last posting for us to tease you with when the time comes, but I suspect you have outlined your ideas elsewhere. I am always at the ready to tease someone about their absolute knowledge of what another person's intent was, but I still haven't finished my (I think this is just my third) reading of MP, so I'm afraid I shall just have to nod sagely as if I know exactly what you're talking about.

I thoroughly enjoyed your assessment of the first part of the novel.  I have read that far. Your views and mine so far are in pretty fine alignment, but don't let that worry you.

From the Meister: Your reply is too excellent - the wind
is gone from my sails. And you say not to worry?

Dear Heather,

Bowdler "cleaned up" Shakespeare for elementary school age children. The irony is that in reading the Bible or attending church the children would read or hear far more sensational material than could be found in Shakespeare. Bowdler did remove the "swearing" of some of Shakespeare's characters that no one could hear in church or read in the Bible. One did not hear a preacher say, "'sBlood, it makes me mad to think of the fornicators." Bowdler would have removed the allusion to Christ's blood from such a sentence in Shakespeare  and the children hearing a sermon would hear the preacher shout, "Oh, you fornicators, your evil pleasures will lead you to the tortures of eternal damnation. Etc."

"What's a fornicator, Mummy?"

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