Dear Sir/Madam,
Can anyone give me information from the feminist viewpoint on marriage, women and work at the time of Jane Austen's life, and through her writing of Pride and Prejudice, Emma and Mansfield Park?
Dear Folks,
I am searching for the answer to three questions relating to JA's burial. The
three bios I have read are silent on these questions:
1. Who wrote the
inscription on the slab?
2. Why did the funeral expenses amount to 92 pounds?
That seems like a lot of money.
3. What is the thinking on why a person so
attached to her family would ask to be buried in Winchester Cathedral where she
would be away from her family forever?
I am sure the answers to these questions are floating around somewhere and I
am hopeful that someone will point me in the right direction. I have posted this
inquiry on the Life and Times board at Pemberley, but so far at least, have
struck out.
Thanks
Dear Ray,
Welcome to our community. I don't have any answers to your questions and I have often asked myself your question (1). It is an interesting question because no mention is made of her literary accomplishments in the epitaph. Although, she was still an anonymous author at the time of her death and the family may have been wondering how her accomplishments could be announced to the world.
Incidentally, here is an amateur photo of Jane Austen's gravesite. Unhappily, the quality is too poor to make out the inscription. So here it is:
In memory of
JANE AUSTEN,
youngest daughter of the late
Revd. GEORGE
AUSTEN,
formerly Rector of Steventon in this County.
She departed this
Life on 18th July 1817,
aged 41, after a long illness supported with
the
patience and the hopes of a Christian.
The benevolence of her heart,
the sweetness of her temper, and
the
extraordinary endowments of her mind
obtained the regard of all who knew her,
and
the warmest love of her intimate connections.
Their grief is in proportion to their affection
they know their loss to be
irreparable,
but in the deepest affliction they are consoled
by a firm
though humble hope that her charity,
devotion, faith and purity have
rendered
her soul acceptable in the sight of
her
REDEEMER.
The inscription seems consistent with the sentiments expressed by her oldest brother James at the news of her death, while it seems not to echo so much the thoughts of her favorite brother Henry. The problem with that theory is that Henry was at the funeral but James was not. We know that because we are told that James was represented by his son, James Edward (who, by the way, was her first biographer and the youngest person at the funeral). Apparently, Brother James was in his own final decline. Of course, that does not mean that the family might not have deferred to their respected oldest sibling. My instinct is that Henry was so very proud of Jane's writings that he would not have left those things unmentioned. The inscription does not read like anything that Cassandra would have said, but it is not unlike something that her mom would have suggested. Once again, Cassandra was in the vicinity (not actually at the traditional, all-male funeral) while mother had not even visited Winchester during Jane's decline and interment.
Why do you think that Jane "asked" to be buried at Winchester? Can you pass along a reference in that regard? She lived the last few months of her life in Winchester so that she could be near a doctor that had a good reputation in her family. I had always assumed that the English of that time were constrained to inter relatively near the place of death. Her father, for example, is interred at Bath. One curious thing, she died in the middle of July and was not interred for a full week. Was this English custom or does it indicate that the Austens had to do some negotiating?
The Austens were sincerely spiritual and did not think that separations in places of burial would prevent spending their eternal lives together. Jane Austen once composed a prayer and said this: "...we pray for the safety and welfare of our own family and friends wheresoever dispersed, beseeching thee to avert from them all material and lasting evil of body or mind; and may we by the assistance of thy holy spirit so conduct ourselves on earth as to secure an eternity of happiness with each other in thy heavenly kingdom. ..." That sense of things was echoed in a letter that Cassandra wrote to announce Jane's death: "...her dear remains are to be deposited in the cathedral - it is a satisfaction to me to think that they are to lie in a building she admired so much - her precious soul I presume to hope reposes in a far superior Mansion. May mine one day be reunited to it."
I don't think that just anyone could be interred in the Cathedral itself. In fact, if Jane's secret authorships had been perfect secrets, I don't know how the family could have accomplished this honor. Of course, thanks to Henry, this was an open secret and I can certainly imagine Henry pulling out all the stops in any negotiations with Cathedral officials. Maybe this fact will, eventually, explain the high cost of the funeral to you. Nowadays, we believe that Jane honors the Cathedral and not the other way around. It was not always that way; one legend has it that a few decades later, some American visitors asked a custodian to lead them to Jane Austen's gravesite and, after complying, the custodian asked who in the world was this person interred at this honored place.
Dear Ray,
Park Honan has some interesting comments to make on the subject of Winchester, which may provide some clues as to how Jane Austen came to be interred there. The Dean, Mr Rennell, had known Mr Austen, and the Prebendary, Mr Nott, had been up at All Souls College in 1788, when James Austen, as a fellow of St John's, was printing his weekly Tory journal. Nott and James Austen were opponents of Whiggery, so it is possible that this connection had something to do with the choice of burial place, as both men accepted Jane Austen for burial in the cathedral. Possibly the Regent's admiration for her work had some influence on their decision as well?
As for not taking her home for burial, possibly Jane herself had spoken against this, as being needlessly distressing to her surviving family. Charlotte Bronte made the same decision at Scarborough, when her beloved sister Anne died there - she felt that the mechanics of taking her dead sister home to Haworth would have caused the already devestated father more needless grief.
Honan also postulates that the inscription on the grave may have been written
by James, who visited Winchester shortly after the funeral. Honan's
comments here are interesting:
"Having attacked novel-writing often, James
certainly approved (if he did not write) the memorial text which does not
mention her fiction at all. An allusion to her novel-writing, on her grave,
might have implied she had had to write for profit and that her brothers had
failed to support her."
It is probably also fair to surmise that, to the family, Jane's novel-writing
was not the greatest part of her.
Julie
To the author of the website,
This website helped me out a great deal on understanding the context of Jane Austen's writings. I am presently doing research on Pride and Prejudice, Northanger Abbey, and her two segments, The Watsons and Sanditon. Thank you so very much. :)
Dear Dominique,
I am so very glad that you found something of use here. I should point to some other things that you might find of use. I rely on the biography of Mary Wollstonecraft to frame my context for Jane Austen, but there must be many other ways to do the same thing. I point to two alternatives on the references page. I also study Pride and Prejudice (in my amateurish, non-academic way), and I have come to believe that Jane Austen, herself, more closely resembled Darcy than Elizabeth and have tried to prove that with my posting on Darcy and Jane Austen. Perhaps that will surprise you or will be something that you will choose to challenge. P&P is my favorite and I have expressed that preference in my posting on Darcy and Elizabeth. I also believe that Jane Austen may have had another real-life model for Darcy, see Jane Austen's eleventh letter. My views on P&P have stirred some controversy and you can follow that by referring to "D" and then to "P" in the index and archive.
You can use the index to refer to any discussion of the other items you mention, but you will find too little on that count. I hope, very much, that you will take the lead and open the discussion on those works at this bulletin board. I can promise you much animated response, and--who knows--that might prove useful to you when you go to prepare your final paper.
Finally, in case you have not already found it, there is this link to the Republic of Pemberley, which is always a good source of information on all matters relating to Jane Austen.
Dear Sir,
No, I'm not a Fanny-basher, although I do think Edmund would be the better for a sense of humour, That is an interesting point about these two, however, they do not possess the sense of ironical wit that is evident in so many of Jane Austen's other heroes and heroines. Edmund has a touch, perhaps, but Fanny is completely without a sense of humour. The wit and energy in this novel are all bestowed on the two 'daemons' - Henry and Mary Crawford. In these two we see created the 'dark side' (sorry, Darth) of a Jane Austen hero and heroine. The brother and sister have many of the charms and attractions of, say, Elizabeth Bennet or Henry Tilney, but this time they are 'turned to evil', as Obe Wan said. When writing Emma, Jane Austen is reported to have said, 'I am going to create a heroine that no-one but myself will much like' - to modern readers, that comment is probably more applicable to Fanny Price. Jane Austen vindicates her entirely. To many readers, Fanny appears to be a priggish, smug little Miss, but I think that this may be because something is 'lost in the translation'. Fanny is the means by whom Jane Austen identifies and upholds values about which she felt very strongly - she also felt that they were becoming unfashionable at the time of her writing the novel, and they are certainly unfashionable today.
With her usual insight, she does make one interesting comment about Fanny, towards the end of the novel, when discussing Susan's future: that Susan, with her 'more fearless nature, and knowledge of the tempers she had to deal with', eventually became the more beloved of the sisters, to Lady Bertram. She had identified Susan earlier in the novel as being more like William in temperament, and here shows that she is aware that Fanny's nervousness and paralysing shyness make her difficult to deal with on many occasions.
I would like to write more, but the goats are calling!
Julie
Dear Julie,
I think I agree with everything you said! (Sweet Jesus - maybe we should talk about "social commentary" again.)
Except - well - you are not trying to say a little something positive about Henry Crawford are you? I won't stand still for that. Actually, Mary is attractive right up to the point when she assures Edmund that Maria's adultery would not have been so bad if only it had been conducted with a bit more taste.
I like the entire visit of Fanny to her parents' home. Sir Bertram sends her there so that she can observe a poorly financed marriage at first hand, so that she might be more receptive to Crawford's proposal. His idea was a good one but his plan would have failed if not for the indifference shown to Fanny by her own mother - intriguing. William is safe--more than safe--but Fanny is concerned about Susan and so strives to save sister from her fate. I just read Tess of the d'Urbervilles; I don't know if you remember that novel, but Tess saves one of her sisters at the end; I was reminded of Mansfield Park.
I believe I see all the humor in Jane Austen and in her characters. I also enjoy a good sense of humor wherever I find it, more so than most folks I think. But, I also think that to focus on Jane Austen's humor is to put her slightly out of focus. For that reason, I am not disappointed that Fanny is a bit serious. For her to be anything else would break the Fanny-Price mold - do you know what I mean? (By the way, I don't know what you meant by 'lost in the translation'.)
I do agree with you - I don't know - sometimes it seems like nothing is worth the effort anymore. Sniff.
Dear Sir,
I will try and be very disciplined today, and answer your last submission point by erudite point.(!)
First, Mr Crawford. No, I have nothing to say for the man - in fact, I have less to say on his behalf than did his charitable creator, who commented that a man of sense, such as he undoubtedly was, could not fail to suffer from the effects of his elopement with Mrs Rushworth - even though the society of the time did not wall him up alive, as it did Maria. Joyce Grenfell said once that, in her opinion, those among us who possessed intellectual gifts have less excuse than stupid people for bad behaviour. Henry Crawford is intelligent, educated, wealthy and independent. He is also, in my view, what we today would call sociopathic - he lacks the ability to experience real feeling for others. This is true even of his behaviour to his sister - he could not provide a home for her, but was quite happy to drive her to and from the houses of other people with whom she might chance to be staying. Can you imagine Mr Knightley, Mr Darcy, or any of the Mr Austens, allowing their maiden sisters to float around in this manner?
From the Meister: Did Grenfell also observe that the
intelligent
have a far greater capacity and inclination for bad
behavior?
I sometimes think that Mary's comment to her sister, 'you must have the address of a Frenchwoman', is a pointer to the manners of the Crawfords - they are a little 'French', both think that life is a game of manners and appearance - neither can cope with real relationships with real people. Mary appears to have more real feeling than her brother, and she is genuinely pathetic at the end of the novel, when she, caring as she does for Edmund, is hurt, and quite unable to understand why he turns from her. It is as if they are speaking different languages entirely. Henry, on the other hand, is unable to understand what he has done to deserve this hysterical female (Maria). Hers is real, passionate feeling, however misguided he just does not understand. Mary is quite right in her musings on what might have happened, had Fanny and Maria possessed the Crawford view of life - 'standing yearly flirtations', as people crept along the corridors of the country houses of Sotherton and Everingham. What she cannot grasp is the fact that genuine relationships involve real feelings, and are not just a game.
Meister: Why do you call Maria "hysterical"?
My comment regarding humour was really just a bit of musing - I do not regard Jane Austen as a 'comic' writer. What I was thinking was that she, as a person, was good with words, and valued clever conversation, and this capacity for wit and irony was one that she frequently gave to her heroes and heroines. Indeed, even some of her less-beloved characters are pretty quick with the razor-like tongue. In Mansfield Park, however, she has created a hero and heroine who lack humour, who do not seem to be capable of laughing at themselves, who take themselves very seriously indeed, and yet still succeed as protagonists. I wonder whether this is because Jane Austen was using them to examine issues about which she cared very deeply - religion and family values - and whether she felt that these subjects were not to be treated with levity. Remember Fanny's qualified enjoyment of Miss Crawford's wit, when it was used against subjects that Fanny wished to see respected?
As for 'lost in the translation': Fanny Price has frequently been a
disappointment to readers of Mansfield Park, and many people have found
her priggish. I don't, but I can see the point of those who do: I
wonder whether people are leveling at Mansfield Park the complaint that I
make about Sense and Sensibility: that I can see what the author
intended, but that the characters did not 'work' for me? Mansfield
Park is the most serious of Jane Austen's novels, and the one in which, I
feel, she shows her range and depth. To appreciate her characters in this
novel, it is helpful, I feel, to understand something of the author's
life. Now, this is not true of her other works, which would be appreciated
no matter what, but in Mansfield Park Jane Austen is really trying to
make her readers understand and appreciate what she felt to be the best of moral
values: value for religion, value for family, and obligation on the part
of fortunate family members to care for those less well-endowed. Poor Sir
Thomas, who, for all his faults, felt that that harpy of a woman, Mrs Norris,
was his for life. I feel for him, when he has to admit to himself that the
sacrifice of one daughter was almost a fair price to pay, in order to be rid of
that creature!
Julie
| Meister: You and I really do see eye to eye on Mansfield Park, so much so that I am going to overlook your unaccountable lapse - your heresy on Sense and Sensibility. I once observed that no filmmaker would make another version of Mansfield Park because our generation lacked the cultural context to appreciate it. Your post makes me want to re-evaluate. In this same vein, I would point to Kate2's post (11/15/98) in which she informs us that a new filmed version is being produced, and near her home. We can only hope that Sue Birtwhistle and Andrew Davies are involved. Although, with my luck, the film is probably being made by Jane Campion and Oliver Stone. |
2/20/99 Julie Grassi Addendum: Hysteria in tight pants
First, the Grenfell quote. I don't know whether Mrs. Grenfell developed her theme any further. That quote was taken from the first volume of an autobiography of one Mr. Clive James (which I highly recommend, if you feel any affinity at all for the Australian mind). I suspect that Mrs Grenfell was simply giving the young Clive a well-earned clip up the left earhole, euphemistically speaking.
As to Maria's hysteria: I don't think she was, at all. But I despise the reptilian Mr Crawford all the more for his behaviour when she continued to live with him, in love and hoping to marry him, until the realisation of the fact that this was hopeless rendered her feelings for him so much like hatred as to make them for a while a mutual punishment to each other. Maria is not a likeable woman, I grant, but, imagine: they were equals - patricians, both - and the impression one gains is of this man leaning back in his chair in bored surprise at her distress, and then spending the evening at his club. My point was that his capacity for understanding or experiencing human emotion was so paltry that he would have dismissed Maria's distress as 'hysterical'. Jane Austen is charitable enough to say that he ran off with Maria because 'he could not help it'. Ballocks. What did Maria do - tie him hand and foot and drag him into the coach? But enough of Mr Crawford.
Meister: It's odd - I don't often admire Maria, but I
do like her. Her
chief sin was to marry the wrong man for the wrong reason;
but,
shouldn't we place a good part of the blame for that on Aunt
Norris?
What do you think of this proposition: that Jane Austen may have been deliberate in her delineation of Edmund Bertram and Fanny Price as colourless and unattractive characters, superficially, as a means of underlining the point of her novel: that solid values are more enduring than superficial attractiveness? I have put this very badly, I know. What I mean is that I see a corollary between the characters of the characters in the novel, and the worth of the values that are explored. I'll stop now, before I tie myself in knots.
Meister: I think--I say, I think--I agree with
the spirit of your proposition. I
do not find your choice of words very
compelling. Fanny and Edmund differ in
one very important way; Fanny was
always right about things. There are people
like that in this world and
others always find them galling, but they cannot
help themselves. I would
also quarrel about your use of "superficial"; there is
nothing superficial
about something that blasts a man to smithereens. Witness
the experiences of
Edmund and poor Mr. Rushworth.
Now, if we have exhausted the Mansfield Park game (though I think we could go on forever), why not play Persuasion with me for a bit?
Meister: OK, but be forewarned - Persuasion is
high on my list. I
have a lot of deep feelings about that novel and so I will
be stubborn.
Now, on another point entirely. I happened to see on television tonight a video clip of an Australian football player, who was, for reasons unknown to me, playing gridiron in the U.S. Good luck to him, I say, but good heavens, man, are those pants absolutely necessary? No wonder no man in Australia plays that sport!!!!!!
| Meister: The only Australian I know of in American football (we say "football" and only we older folks know the meaning of "gridiron") plays for the San Diego Chargers. There may be others, but I do not know of them. The Charger, in one real sense, does not actually play football (he might not even be terribly familiar with the rules). I say that because he is a punter (you might say "kicker" but that word means something else to us). That means he plays on about 5% of the plays and does a single thing; he punts (kicks) the ball to the other guys when his own team decides to give up trying to advance the ball themselves. That Australian Charger is quite good at the task, but might only make the league minimum, a paltry $250,000 per annum. There are three different types of kicks that are made in football and, as often as not, three different individuals take on those tasks. That Charger only punts. Foreigners are often employed at one of those kicking tasks, for example, a Dane was one of the field-goal kickers in the recent Super Bowl. As for the pants, they contain three different kinds of pads: There are optional, knee-cap pads and required, thigh as well as hip pads. The pants are made very tight so that they cannot be easily grasped by an opponent. Pads in general are there to protect the hitter and not the person being hit (much as boxing cloves protect the hands and not the face). In fact, we suffer about 35 deaths and many serious injuries per annum in football and, perhaps, those statistics would be significantly reduced if we would only follow the examples of rugby and Australian-rules football and outlaw the use of helmets and padding. |
Dear Mr. Dennis,
It was serendipitous to say the least that I stumbled across your web site. It is the best Austen site that I have read and the obvious enjoyment your contributors have in being both mischievous and provocative is charming. One knows that Tasmania has many treasures but one wasn't aware of the erudite Ms Grassi. As soon as I can I plan to shy at some of the straw persons set up on the Board. Congratulations on a brilliant site.
With best wishes,
David Knight.
Dear Sir,
As treasures go, I'm right up there with the bunyip and the thylacine! Without the pouch, of course.
Now, who would like to play Mansfield Park with me? This is
always the most difficult game to get anyone to play, but it's one of my
favourites.
Julie
From the Meister: Me! Me! I'll play.
Except -
you're not going to do any of that
damned Fanny-Price bashing, are you? I
won't
take that lying down. I love Fanny and admire
Edmund. What happened
to your poor pouch?
Dear David,
Welcome to the community. And thank you for your kind words.
Ms. Grassi is indeed erudite, but Julie also shares my love of rough play. (That is not a required attitude at this place.) If you will refer to my post of 12/16/98, you will find a list of my favorite posts of 1998 and some of Julie's figure quite prominently in that list. You can obtain a more complete list by finding her name in the index. Julie and I also share an e-mail correspondence (talk about rough play!) and I can tell you that Tasmania does have many treasures. - Either that or goatherds exaggerate like crazy.
So much for the Southern Hemisphere - as for the Northern, it is a close call but if pressed I would point to Kate2 who is also listed in the index. In fact, two of her postings were so spectacular that they are now listed in the Table of Contents (see the last entry).
We all look forward to your participation.
Ashton
I don't understand why people like Jane Austen. I think Jane Austen books are poo.
From the Meister: Gosh! I should have
thought that
a bright, articulate person
like yourself would have figured it out.
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