Additional Reference: 12/23/98
Dear Sir,
I'm mortified, profoundly embarrassed and highly flattered. Not that I'm going to let it go to my head, of course.
Now, it is time to get serious, gentlemen: No, I do not believe Frank Churchill was lying when he said he wrote the mislaid letter to Jane. Try as I might, I cannot find any justification in the text for that idea, but I would be very interested indeed to hear why you think it might be so. I must say, though, that the sort of device I believe you think that Jane Austen employed here is very much out of character with her writing, and her intention in character development, in general.
Henry Crawford, or Willoughby, would certainly have been capable of doing as you suggest, but I do not believe Jane Austen was trying to create that kind of character in Frank Churchill thoughtless and clumsy as he was, I do not believe him to have been a malignant character.
Over to you.
May your stocking be full, and your pudding covered in brandy
sauce.
Love,
Julie
Dear Julie,
I hope you had a wonderful birthday and Christmas. I wish you a good New Year because you have become the guiding spirit and the intellectual leader at this web site - in spite of my best efforts. As we say in Australia, may your stockings become covered in brandy sauce.
You are also wrong. C'mon - forget Jane Austen and the novels for the moment; how can you imagine that a man could misplace that sort of letter? A man would have been calling for his horse as soon as he received Jane Fairfax's challenge to cancel their engagement. He would have called for his horse unless he was actually considering acceptance of her offer. I believe that to be Jane Austen's intent - to show just how steamed Frank was after their tiff at the strawberry harvest and the outing to Box Hill. Otherwise, that entire segment of the letter is useless filler on Jane Austen's part. If we have established nothing else, you and I have agreed that Jane Austen never wasted that much space in anything she ever released for publication. Frank's problem is to explain that awkward period between Jane's announcement of her accepting the teaching assignment and his effort to put an end to that. There might be questions at Highbury (in fact, there were) and he was trying to head that off - and succeeded. This is lying but not "malignant" lying. (Well, maybe it is but if you had lived under the same set of Presidents, as have I, you might have been desensitized as well.) I mean that Frank is only shielding a petty spat with his love from the view of the community and I cannot blame him for that.
Another thing, I believe that Jane Austen assumed that we would figure out
that Jane Fairfax is bluffing. I base that on her relationship with the
Campbells. Colonel Cambell served in the military with Jane's father and
believed that he owed his life to that man. On top of that, it is made quite
clear that the Campbell's owned a genuine, comprehensive affection and devotion
to Jane Fairfax. They took pains to introduce her into the best society and
exhibited her at all the best watering holes in the realm. That means only one
thing, they intended that she would make a good match in this way. In fact, that
is just what she did, is it not? She moans and groans about her fated career as
a governess and indeed the Campbells insured that she was prepared for such an
eventuality. (It is clear that they could not fund a dowry for her so this was
their way of providing her a backup, a plan B.) It is also clear that they
wanted her to return to them, I assume so that they could resume their husband
hunting with her. Whether consciously or no, Jane Fairfax turns to the course
that will put the most pressure on Frank - she accepts the teaching position
(the hair robe) from the dreaded Mrs. Elton's connections. Very clever. Yes, I
confess it - I do not believe that Jane Austen makes any of this
explicit.
Love,
Aston
Dear Sir,
Happy New Year, and Hogmanay to you.I think you have illustrated the differences in our two ways of thinking perfectly in your last submission. How can one discuss Jane Austen, while 'forgetting Jane Austen?' And how can one apply the assertation that 'any man' would do - whatever - while discussing the creations of a female novelist? You are ascribing characteristics, modes of thinking, and actions, that may seem to you to be perfectly valid for a male in the situations of a male in a Jane Austen novel; indeed, you may be right: but while you argue from the point of view of 'what any man would have done' - well, - Jane Austen was not a man she 'was a woman, and defends (women) because I am a woman' - I believe you are identifying and pursuing points quite extraneous to the novelist's purpose.
Jane Austen states the life experience, and gives her estimation, of Miss Fairfax, for instance, unequivocally in several places: Using Frank Churchill's voice: 'I induced the most upright female mind in creation to stoop in charity to a secret engagement'. In George Knightley's voice: ' (her) disinterested love - and Jane Fairfax's character ensures her disinteredness'. In Emma Woodhouse's voice: 'for the merit of the match was all on (Miss Fairfax's) side'. At no point in the novel, ever, is the impression given that the Campbells were offering the child they had reared on the marriage market. 'The plan was that she be brought up to educate others.' 'One and twenty was the period'.
In 'Emma', Jane Austen wrote a novel whose action was much more intricate than that of the simple love story while romantic engagement is the catalyst, the novelist is examining much deeper issues of behaviour and motivation, and enjoying herself tremendously at the same time by writing the archetypical detective story.
If I may make a New year's suggestion: look through the novel for the
author's own estimation of her characters. They are clearly given.
Whatever Jane Austen was, I do not, and cannot, believe that she was obtuse or
devious. Hers was and is a clear, sane, detached and considered voice of
reason. She did not set out to 'play tricks' on her readers. I
belive that she aimed to create real people, and gave her readers a just
evaluation of her characters - she was, in fact, a moralist. Not a
moraliser, of course. She was an acute and humane social critic, who used
her characters to demonstrate attributes that she valued in public and private
life. The pictures that you have drawn of Frank Churchill and Miss
Fairfax, if true, would be unexampled in her works - Jane Austen does not reward
dishonesty and connivance - indeed, the whole point of 'Emma' is to expose the
misery that the former could cause. 'You take up an idea, and make
everything bend to
it'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(How's that for what we, in Australia, would call 'arse'?)
Love,
Julie
Dear Julie,
(1) Frank claimed that he misplaced his reply to Jane Fairfax, true or no? What was Jane Austen's purpose in writing that?
(2) Colonel Campbell believed that Jane Fairfax's father saved his life and the Campbell's asked Jane Fairfax to return to their home, true or no? What was the Campbell's intent? What did Jane Austen intend by establishing those facts?
(3) The gentry of the Regency Period took very great pains to find matches for the worthy young people of their acquaintance, true or no? (Trick question!)
Dear Sir,
Let me try to answer your questions. Firstly, what was Jane Austen's purpose in allowing Frank Churchill to write to Miss Fairfax on the occasion of his grandmother's death, and then accidentally omit to post the letter? And, yes, I do believe the letter was genuine. Remember, the Frank Churchill/Jane Fairfax plot was secondary to the main action of the novel, which was Emma Woodhouse's development as a person, and in relation to Mr Knightley.
From the Meister: Ah yes - the love story.
Emma, at the time of the announcement of Mrs Churchill's death, is still serenely blind, still imagining that Frank Churchill is attached to Harriet Smith (she commends, to herself, Harriet's self-possession on the occasion: "Harriet behaved very well, and betrayed no emotion"). The time lapse created by Frank's mislaid letter is the time during which Emma's fantasy world comes crashing down around her ears, and she is faced with the reality of her love for Mr Knightley. This occurs after she realises that Harriet is attached to Mr Knightley, not Mr Churchill, during a conversation with Harriet at cross-purposes (a device Jane Austen had used, more crudely, in Sense and Sensibility). At this point, Emma is confronted with the monster she (thinks) she has created - Harriet Smith and Mr Knightley in love. For the last time in the novel, Emma engages in self-delusion, when she recalls incidents, seeing them through Harriet's eyes, that seem to confirm Harriet's conviction that Mr Knightley is in love with Harriet. In her shame and confusion, she acknowledges that she would not believe herself beloved of such a man as Mr Knightley, before being assured of the fact - unlike Harriet. (How tight the weave of the novel! Remember Mr Knightley, much earlier: 'I would like to see Emma in love, and in some doubt of a return - it would do her good.') The period of ten days or so after Mrs Churchill's death is pivotal to the novel - if Frank had rode down on Highbury and carried Jane off across the saddle of his white charger, on the day of his grandmother's death, he would have: a: been acting in very poor taste, and b: have wiped out the point of the novel, which is the tortured denoument between Emma and Mr Knightley.
Your second question: Re Jane Fairfax and her relationship with the Campbells. Col. Campbell is described by Frank Churchill as 'elderly', and this is consistent with the nature of things in military life. The inference I read is that the Campbells, with all their affection and goodwill towards Jane, are realistic enough to see that they can offer her no permanent home or income, because of the constraints of age and income (Col. Campbell's income, through pay and appointments, was handsome, but his fortune was moderate, and must be all his daughter's.) In other words, the bulk of his income was for life only. From the very outset of the description of Jane Fairfax's position in the Campbell household, it is made clear that 'the plan was that she be brought up to educate others.' Indeed, their affection meant that Jane was treated as a daughter after she came out, but there is a subtle grief and regret: 'perhaps, what must be at last, should have been sooner' - the Campbells would dearly have loved to have kept her as a beloved daughter ('while they lived, their home should be hers'), but they could give her no fortune. Sadly, everything would end with the elderly Col.. Campbell's death.
As to your third question: people probably did go to some trouble to
arrange 'advantageous' marriages for their dependants. There is
speculation that one of the reasons for Mr Austen's retirement, and decision to
move from Steventon to Bath, was the hope that, in the larger world of Bath, his
daughters would have a better chance of finding life partners. But Jane
Austen, in her novels, was interested in much more intricate issues of human
relationships. What do you think?
Julie
Meister: I think I cannot remember a fictional Jane
Austen
family that wasn't trying to marry off some young
person.
That is why I do not find your interpretation of the
Campbells
compelling enough.
Dear Sir,
I have only one criticism to make of your excellent last post - never, ever, accuse me again of assessing even one word of a Jane Austen novel as 'FILLER!' The essence, and the enduring delight, of her prose, to me is the fact that every, every word has a purpose, and cannot be omitted without losing the heart of the novel. (Which makes me think, as an aside, of that great obscenity, the Readers' Digest Condensed Book - how could they!!! Enough to make Britain declare war again and reclaim your unruly colony).
Your quote is an interesting one, the more so because many criticisms of Jane Austen have taken the opposite view, and blamed her (they do the same for George Eliot), for having too loud an authorial voice - for directing the reader, and telling him/her what to think. I do not subscribe to this view, but, then, neither do I believe that Jane Austen was attempting to be enigmatic - she tells the reader what her own opinions of her creations are, plainly enough. Perhaps our problems here (We don't have any, really) stem from the fact that I am a Charlotte Lucas (I am not romantic, you know - I never was) and you are a Frank Churchill. Likewise, you may be an Edmund Bertram infatuated with Mary Crawford, while I am Fanny Price (Edmund's affections were likely to take Fanny where she could not follow)?
When I read any one of Jane Austen's novels, I do so exclusively, which is to say that I do not bring to my reading any knowledge that I might have of the author's life nor do I employ any knowledge that I might have of her other works. This is a method of reading that I was taught as a student when studying Shakespeare - I offer it as a supreme compliment to those authors I respect (there aren't very many!). So, when analysing the text, I try not to make any assertions that cannot be proved by direct quotation. This, you may find, requires great discipline - especially when one is as enthusiastic as you and I both are. But I do honestly believe that Jane Austen, as a serious author, worthy of our respect, repays this discipline over and over again. This is why I have no interest in film adaptations of her work, you see. For a lesser author, fine. But Jane Austen did not write plays - she wrote novels.
Now let me put my big foot in it once and for all: I feel that you come
to the works of Jane Austen almost as a lover - and why not? She is
extraordinary now, as then, in her ability to attract I come to her
works as a reader only. I hope and trust that this is how she would have
wanted to be viewed - as a serious author, whose works stand, individually,
alone, on their own merits.
Julie
Dear Ms. Price,
Just because I accuse you of something doesn't mean that I actually believe it of you. You accuse me of being in love with Jane Austen, but I might be in love with Stevie Nicks.
So, some would blame Jane Austen "for having too loud an authorial voice -
for directing the reader, and telling him/her what to think". And you do not
"believe that Jane Austen was attempting to be enigmatic - she tells the reader
what her own opinions of her creations are, plainly enough". Well then, perhaps
you can exlain a certain passage I have in mind, an extract from Frank's letter.
Frank describes his blowup with Jane Fairfax and confesses that Jane wrote to
him offering to cancel their engagement. Now we get to the point, he then
writes
My Dearest Friend,
Chapter XIII of Vol. III is the sort of thing you might skip over and I would dwell upon. That is the kind of chapter that I would characterize as the essence of Jane Austen's vision and you would consider mere filler. It contains this crucial quote, a quote in the voice of the narrator; in other words, this is Jane Austen herself speaking.
"Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken..."
You understand that; I am certain that you know that. You err where you choose to not understand that Jane Austen used this as a principle when writing her novels. When she wrote of the disclosures of her characters, she always made sure that we cannot completely trust what we read. She did that not because we are to understand that the character is untrustworthy; rather, she did that because she wished to create a human character. We have had this argument before when you insisted that Darcy's words be taken literally. And now you do it again when you suggest that I will understand the truth about Jane Fairfax when I read Frank's letter (Chapter XIV, Vol. III). You puzzle me; you would never be so uncritical of the human disclosures in your own life.
Frank is in love and now openly engaged and, of course, he is going to take
everything upon himself - what man wouldn't? Actually, it would be an advantage
if I were to embrace your way of things. For example, here is a quote that
directly supports the view that I tried to put forward on 12/4/98, a view
that contradicts your sense of things. The passage is from Chapter X of Vol.
III; Emma has just learned of the engagement of Frank to Miss Fairfax which she
greets with this cry.
The principle is that the complete truth does not belong to any human disclosure. Often there will be at least some truth. Frank correctly identifies Mrs. Elton as the chief source of his problems with Jane Fairfax. Quite true, the main problem begins at the strawberry harvest when Mrs. Elton simply won't let Jane be, and that on top of the nervous chatter of Jane's aunt combined with the fact that her lover is an apparent no-show drives her over the edge. She storms out of the Abbey only to encounter the luckless Frank who has just endured a hot ride following a difficult session with his aunt. A perfect (Jane-Austen) formula for disaster. By her own admission, she is unreasonable and unappreciative and she blows him off. He indicates, in his subsequent conversation with Emma, that he is about to abandon England, meaning Jane. She makes a similar decision and throws herself to the wolves, meaning Mrs. Elton's connections. It is so very affecting and I am sorry for it, but I will not blame Frank.
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