Dear Julie, Ray et al,

Well, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to convince the meister of things he will never be convinced of. I’m moving on, graciously bestowing upon him the last word on the romantic Mr. Trollope, almost exactly as if it were mine to bestow. I expect we will have plenty of opportunity to butt heads regarding Mrs. Collins. I’ve never met anyone with such strong feelings about her, let alone negative ones.  In truth, I’m fascinated.

Hey, Julie, why do you suppose that an animal as benign and unassuming as the one you describe gets tagged with the name of "devil"?  What a horrible rep.  Tell me, does it steal its best friend’s suitors?  Does it "manage" its husband?  Does it wear its baseball cap indoors?  I must know.  It’s keeping me awake at night.

Ray, I envy your tour of the (now, here I would put a name, but apparently it’s an expletive at this site) household, as I have never been off the North American continent.  Julie wants to see snow, and I want to see standing stones.  I’ve seen Rockies, hoodoos, and inukshuk but the mystery and wonder of Stonehenge overwhelms them all.

If I ever get over there, I will also visit the home of the expletive family.  I am drawn to them, I suppose, not only by their writings, but by the fact that I come from a family brimming with preacher’s kids.  I have always been interested in the numbers of novelists (especially female novelists) whose fathers, husbands, or brothers were clergymen.  Obviously, our Friend fits in the group nicely, and Ash has a posting of a preacher’s views of Austen.  I particularly like the section where he discusses the completely different personalities of Austen’s characters who otherwise have so much in common ­ not the least of which being their calling.

Is it mere coincidence that so many PKs or wives, or sisters take to writing books that weather so well, or is there something that impels them to write novels more than women associated with titled men, military men, and even, later, doctors and lawyers? Are they influenced to write by watching the patriarch, closeted away in his study, inking his fingers with next Sunday’s lesson?  Does he engage them more in stimulating conversation?  Encourage them to read more?  Draw them into the company of a greater number of characters: the sick, the poor, the imprisoned, the land owner and his lady?  Any ideas?  Speculations welcome.

Dear Heather, Cheryl et al,

Heather, I believe the quotation you were after is from Sense and Sensibility, when Elinor points out to her sister, Marianne, 'It is not everybody who has your passion for dead leaves?'  And no, Sir William Lucas, being only a knight, did not possess an hereditary title. The inference is that Charlotte's father was not wealthy enough to provide his daughter with a fortune - Charlotte reflects to herself, 'Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, marriage had always been her ofject   it was the only honourable provision for well-educated women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want.  This preservative she had now obtained   and at the age of twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it.'  Perhaps she felt that it would be nice to be responsible for her own mince pies, instead of her mother's?  Jane Austen's dealing with Charlotte forms an interesting contrast to that meted out to Maria Bertram:  'In all the important preparations of the mind she was complete   being prepared for matrimony by an hatred of home, restraint, and tranquility   by the misery of disappointed affection, and contempt of the man she was to marry.  The rest might wait.'  Indeed.  It is worth considering that Maria's fortune did not, in her own mind, give her any alternative - for both Maria and Charlotte, marriage was the only way to independence.

Cheryl, I would be interested to hear your views on Elizabeth and Darcy's early change of feeling for each other.  Incidentally, I have been a nursing sister for over a quarter of a century, so perhaps I am not such an alien being after all?
Julie

Dear Friends,

I am responding to a post of Julie Grassi on 5/5/99.

The problem with Mr. Collins is that he is seriously out of his depth. That is not his fault, he was born in water too deep. He senses that, on some level, and that is why he is so obsequious and so conformist. On other levels he is unconscious of his limitations and so he can presume to propose to Elizabeth. He seemed oblivious, at that time, to the cruel, mocking treatment that Elizabeth had provided him. However, Jane Austen chose not to place the slightest character flaw in his makeup, not one smidgen, not one nano-microgram. In fact, Jane Austen fills his mind with regret over the matter of the entailment and with every intention of remedy by making one of the Bennet daughters the next Mistress of Longbourn Hall - Bravo! Would someone please supply me with one saving character trait for Mr. Bennet - I'm sorry - I cannot locate it and I have searched the text for it.

Incidentally, for all his limitations, Collins did find his way to Oxford and he did manage to make his way through ordination. And what, pray tell, is Mr. Bennet's accomplishment? And yet, most readers would much prefer to spend an evening with Mr. Bennet. I, of course, against my secret wishes, will be asked to sit next to Mr. Collins - I hope all of you enjoy your little joke (and I hope the Bennets will not object to my south-pointing baseball cap. - The Berkeley T-shirt will confuse them).

Charlotte Lucas did not passively make a "marriage of convenience". She aggressively struck as soon as she thought the opportunity at hand. Charlotte made that marriage and she deflected Collins away from his excellent intentions. Make no mistake, everyone in that neighborhood would have known of Mr. Collins's intentions and the exact reason for them. Later she will find him too repulsive to countenance; even I would not blame her for that if it had not been she, herself, who had set the whole thing in motion in the first place. Julie claims that Charlotte did not complain; true, but will my friend agree that Charlotte did brag? In one of the most chilling passages in literature, Charlotte details her scheme and stratagems to Elizabeth for keeping the repulsive husband out of the wife's presence. Phooey on Charlotte Lucas.

I think that there is context for all this. Julie is more familiar with Jane Austen's letters than any other person of my acquaintance, certainly far more familiar than myself. So, Julie will be able to confirm or set aright what I am about to type. Jane Austen expressed disappointment with two of her brothers, James the oldest and Charles the youngest, because each had allowed himself to become dominated by a wife. Also, as an adolescent, our Lady had observed her cousin Eliza twist James and favorite brother Henry round and round a little finger. I am wondering whether we don't see a little of that insight expressed in the portrayal of Charlotte Lucas (and of the younger Mrs. Dashwood).

Dear Sir,

You are probably thinking of two surviving allusions in Jane Austen's letters, to the marriages of two of her brothers - James and Charles, as you say.  They are different types of references, however.  Jane was no great fan of Mary  (Mrs James) Austen, although she lived with her sister, Martha, for years.  She commented of James in one letter that it made her 'sad and angry' that she could not enjoy the company of this intelligent man more, but that 'his opinions are too much like those of his wife', and that he spent his time during visits 'ringing the bell for a glass of water.'  Well, I don't think this is quite fair.  Jane didn't have to like Mary - she wasn't married to her, after all.  It would appear, however, that Mary made James happy - if the opinions of husband and wife did grow alike, so what?  Perhaps Jane was unconsciously identifiying and resenting an intimacy from which she was excluded?

The second reference would be to a letter written while Jane was at Godmersham, and Charles was visiting, with his wife and infant family.  Jane comments that she has 'done a good deed' by forcing Charles to leave his wife and child and go out shooting with the other gentlemen.  She felt that Charles was too engrossed with his family, and that it was healthier for him to be elsewhere.  Well, once again that is a little bit of an outsider looking in to an intimate relationship.  These comments are to me simply illustrations of normal family dynamics, with all their subtle complications.

Jane Austen gives us the reason for Mr Collins' character with her usual insight and brevity: 'the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society. The greatest part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father  ... though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintances.  The subjection in which his father had brought him up, had given him originally great humility of manner, but it was now a good deal counteracted by self-conceit of a weak head....'  I've been, for many years, worried about the Collins' 'little olive branch' - I do hope Charlotte was able to dominate her husband in the matter of child-rearing!  Actually, Mr Collins reminds me very much of Mr Pontifex in Samuel Butler's The Way of All Flesh - but I think I've said that before, somewhere.

Does Charlotte raise animosity because of her creator's comment about her, 'without thinking highly of either men or matrimony, matrimony had always been her object.'?  If so, well, at least she's honest, and no more distateful than Miss Bingley, with her posturing and flouncing.
Julie

Dear Sir,

'Mary might have been prevailed upon to marry him, she rated his abilities much higher than did the others...'  yes, indeed, but is it likely that Elizabeth would have been invited for a six weeks' visit to Mrs Mary Collins' humble abode?  And then, alas, no meetings, no proposals, and no informative letters.  And anyway, I believe Mr Collins is in much safer hands with twenty-seven year old Charlotte than with eighteen or nineteen-year old Mary.  No. let's leave Mary to the improved quality of life she achieves after the departure of her more beautiful sisters, and to the attorney that Jane Austen told her nieces that Mary eventually married.
Julie

Dear Julie,

I think that Mary's behavior at the Netherfield ball showed a great deal of courage and determination; in fact, she was as much endowed in this way as was Elizabeth - that is clear all through the novel. Mary lacks Elizabeth's intelligence, grace, and beauty and, certainly, far less parental approval is provided to the third daughter. But Mary is determined to fight through her limitations and her assigned role. She embarrasses me but more for her says I. If Mary were retarded, my feelings for her would be fashionable; her qualities are too low for respect and too high for fashion. Personally, I would have been very pleased to know that she was to succeed her mother at Longbourn; the estate would not have suffered in the change and Mary's husband would have had a loving, repectful wife. I know what you people are going to do; after I rise from my dinner with Collins, I am to be assigned the next two dances with Mary. Blast you!

Dear Mr. Dennis,

I liked your posting from Mary.  I recognized her voice at once.  Well, actually, at twice. I scrolled back to see who on earth speaks like that today. I’m glad you explained the date, however, because all the postings for that day were from ’92 and being new to the site I thought I had been trapped in a time warp.  I was also pleased and surprised to find Mary’s keyboarding skills so wonderfully developed, for a dead person.

I have much to say on the subject of Charlotte Lucas, but first, back to our romantic argument. I’ve never read Horatio Hornblower.  May I exchange the "Knight’s Tale" with that title? In any event, though you and I might agree that Pride and Prejudice is romantic in a modern sense, I still don’t think that’s what Trollope meant when he said Austen was not romantic.  Let me try this again.

I’ve only waded through one of his novels, and I can’t even remember which one it was, but I think Trollope’s text is as "romantic" as any Victorian’s: plenty of deceit, a forged signature, a villain, a hero, an ostensibly innocent woman in trouble, a plot impelled by a mystery.  Then there’s that other type of literature exemplified by Wordsworth, Coleridge, that guy that wrote "Manfred" and his little chums (I adore them, of course, but that’s a whole other website).  All these gentlemen are romantics of the type Austen is not.  She does not look for madwomen in attics (except to ridicule such behaviour).  An encounter with a band of gypsies rather fizzles in spite of Emma’s reading of its effects.  A tryst in the seedy side of town is handled by the men, not our heroine.  None of Austen’s main characters spend a lot of time feeling at one with nature and describing the landscape and the manner in which it expresses their emotional state. I believe there are lines in S&S or was it Northanger Abbey eschewing that very thing ­ and I apologize but I don’t have any Austen here at work to quote from).  Anyway, no lightening flashes and heavy rainstorms while Elizabeth reads Darcy’s letter a thousand times. I can’t help thinking that’s what Trollope was going for.

And now for the new argument.  Female voices against male apparently.

Collins is, in your words, unattractive, awkward and not very bright, "not the same thing" as creepy.  Well, not in a Uriah Heep sense by any stretch of the imagination, and if you thought that’s what I meant, I apologize for misleading you with an obviously incorrect term.  I once told a prof that I thought a certain character was a "jerk" and he immediately thought Steve Martin, when I was going for someone heartless and cruel.  Anyway, Collins is, to me, creepy in a laughable, clammy, limp-handshake, pontificating sort of way.  The exact qualities you describe as not being creepy make him a poor match for Elizabeth, and make me think, "you want to marry what to whom?"  Creepy.

As for Charlotte, Mrs. Bennet believes she plotted to take the family home away from the Bennet girls, but we really don’t think much of Mrs. Bennet’s opinion.  Elizabeth, in contrast to her mother (always), remains close friends with Charlotte, and, while Charlotte’s new life is not one she would choose for herself, she does not disapprove of Charlotte’s domestic arrangements. You may side with Mrs. Bennet, but I choose to accept Elizabeth’s sometimes flawed opinions of people.

I take your point as regards owning property, and if Austen’s works were not also "riddled" with penniless women who have to depend on their miserly brothers (S&S), spendthrift fathers (Persuasion), or kindly neighbours (Emma) for sustenance, I would tuck my tail between my legs and be off.  However, Charlotte is not an heiress.  She is a member of a very large family with only moderate resources.  I’m sure you’ll correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think Sir William’s title will be left to his son, it merely raises his family’s social level (among other things) while he lives.  As you pointed out, his daughters have reasonable dowries.  However, Charlotte has only two choices if she wishes to remain fed and sheltered: either to live off her brothers or live off a husband, and until Collins is made available to her, only her brothers keep her from potential poverty.  The opportunity to relieve her brothers of one burden (although they are a close family and probably wouldn’t really consider her a burden) and introduce her sisters into an even more respectable society (if there is such a thing) is a windfall for Charlotte.  Eventually owning a house next door to Mama is merely a nice bonus. Charlotte, who has only her youth and a brain going for her, opens the door when opportunity knocks, and only after it is made clear to her that none of the Bennets are willing to do it themselves.  She does not brag, she merely puts Elizabeth’s mind at ease about a few things ­ the marriage will last because of these little arrangements, and I think will be quite comfortable for both parties.  She is not and never will be Mrs. Dashwood.  I believe we are in agreement about the latter woman.  I do not believe Charlotte is Austen’s response to overbearing, controlling women.  Charlotte does not control, she merely suggests.

I have entered this site looking for the male perspective, and this should be a perfect time to accept it.  More than once I have read the disdain in your tone when you write of women who manage the men in their lives.  I was surprised to find Charlotte’s name in the list you provide elsewhere.  Now I have a fuller explanation, so it seems to be not just Charlotte’s underhanded stealing of entailed land from her neighbours, but particularly the "managing" of her husband that really bothers you.  Fine, I’m in.  No one likes to be managed.  What a creep that Charlotte is, eh?

By the way, I think a backward’s ball cap is absolutely divine, and I’m sure the Bennets would agree.  At least, I’m sure they’ll never seat you next to Mr. Collins again.

Dear Heather,

I believe that our discussion centers upon three sentences from Trollope:

I interpret this as a list of things that Jane Austen did not do while you may interpret the last two sentences as an amplification of the first. Your guess is at least as good mine - at the very least, as good as mine. But Trollope was speaking in 1870 and that seems too late to me to carry your meaning. You are beginning to turn me around, but I suspect we are not going to resolve this problem any time soon.

On one point though, I can announce that you are completely wrong. After much thought, I realized that the Bennets will not be so generous about my cap. I am now quite certain that they would expect me to show up in livery. Instead, I will just wait until they all sit down to a meal and then I will steal their chickens. Well - I will leave a few for Elizabeth.

I couldn't make heads or tails of your fifth paragraph, especially your last two sentences. Is everything that is unfortunate "creepy" to you? Do you find Mary Bennet creepy? or Mary Elliot? Miss Bingley? If a word is to mean so many different things then, surely, it can convey no meaning at all. Do my eyes deceive me? Can you possibly suggest that I seem to think Mr. Collins a good match for Elizabeth?

So, you are going to lay the old he's-afraid-of-powerful-women charge on me are you? That is a cliche but perhaps I am a cliche and deserve no better. (No one who knows my wife would ever make such an accusation.) I originally typed "this gender-war is in your mind only", but that is silly - we all have that thing at least in the back of our minds - so I deleted it. Still, I think that I was on to something true there, I simply can't get it said correctly. I am as critical of Mr. Bennet as I am of Charlotte; why didn't you notice that? In a marriage, I think it acceptable if the better person manages the other. That is not ideal; the ideal is the team. In Jane Austen's novels both kinds are represented. I doubt that either of the Darcys will "manage" the other. The same can be said of all the heroines except that maybe Mr. Tilney will manage his wife. On the other hand, Mrs. Croft managed her Admiral in a perfectly delightful way except, of course, when he was at Trafalgar. We are told that Lady Elliot managed Sir Walter and that was a wonderful arrangement. Clearly Sir Bertram managed his lethargic wife, a wonderful arrangement once again. I have no problem with any of this - I say put the more adept on top and both will benefit. However, your use of "management" is worse than your use of "creepy"; I mean you use it to mean too many different things. Charlotte seduces Collins, publicly observes all the forms, privately expresses her contempt for him, and exploits his foolishness. That is a kind of "management" I grant you, but a better choice of words would be more precise. Choose a word that conveys a sense of hypocrisy, selfishness, and looting. You and Julie are quite resigned to this and announce that the creepy Collins only got what he deserved; Commonwealth women seem to admire Charlotte's ingenuity and practicality. What a cold, cold breed you must be. Tell me - both of you - did you also admire the ingenious Wickham as he gave that creepy Lydia only what she deserved?

It is a serious error to think of my opinion as the male perspective.

Only the oldest son would inherit, the others were as dependent as the women. The men did have a bit more freedom, they were free to go be planted in Spain or Belgium or in the deep blue sea. Lucky Bastards! Do you recall Colonel Fitzwilliam complaining of his lack of freedom? And what do you think of Edward Ferras's situation? The idea was to keep the wealth concentrated so that it could be more productive for all. It is only our modern, wrong-headed interpretation that calls this "dependence". Tell me the ways that you are freer than the typical woman of that era? Explain the ways that men are "free"? It seems to me that there is only one way to be free and that is to shed all responsibilities and obligations. What kind of man would do that? Many men do that, but do you love them?

I think that both you and Julie are too easy with the word "poverty". How do we know that Miss Bates was impoverished? All the characters say so but how do we know this? For one thing, Miss Bates and her mother have only one servant between them. Emma Woodhouse probably commanded more than fifty. But, if you want to talk about poverty, shouldn't you focus on the Bates' servant? I believe you will not even find it there. You may come closer to the mark if you focus on the chicken thieves.

Dear Heather and Sir,

I have, indeed, seen a devil, as I have probably seen the devil - unfortunately, I only recognised the former. Devils are as common as grass in Tasmania, though being shy and nocturnal, as well as noisy, violent, scabby and smelly, they are not seen all that much. I have reared a few orphans, though (they are much cuter when small).  I have never owned a kangaroo suit, but have handled many dozen of wallaby suits, each one of which contained a wallaby at the time. I was born entirely without the sporting gene, as Sir will verify, so the thought of skiing doesn't rock my socks, but I would love to know what it is like to live in a country where snow actually forms part of daily life.  People assure me that I won't want to know for long, but, there, I can't help being curious!

I'm afraid the dreaded 'fries' plague has hit this country, as well. If I can't have a small bag of chips, then I'm damned if I'll submit to 'regular fries'!  Similarly, I will not respond to unfinished programMES, nor engage in dialog.  I don't recognise colors, either. See, Luddites are alive and well.

I have never been able to understand why people find Charlotte Lucas objectionable. She is hardly the first person in history or in fiction to make a marriage of convenience - it happened then, it happens now. I'm not advocating such behaviour, but Charlotte was old enough to know what she was about, and, to her credit, appears always to have meant to keep her end of the deal, and make Mr Collins a good .... well, not wife, really, but business partner.  Like Lady Elliot, one can imagine her 'promoting [Mr Collins's] real respectability', and 'softening his failings'. I wonder whether readers are inclined to take up Elizabeth's view of the matter wholesale, or whether it is just felt that Charlotte's behaviour was out of place in a love story?  If so, it should be remembered that every one of Jane Austen's novels contains at least one example of a non-romantic marriage. The difference is that in Charlotte's case, we are in at the beginning and are told the motivation.  She impresses me as a sane, sensible, intelligent woman who, if she is unhappy, will remain privately so. Unlike the first Mrs Weston, she cannot be accused of having 'one kind of spirit, but not the best' - she does not blame anybody, not even her husband, for her situation.  She would, indeed, have no right to blame him anyway - he never presented himself as anything other than what he was.  Yes, yes, all right, he makes my flesh creep too, but as long as I'm not obliged to live with the man, I can't be too hard on Charlotte.
Julie

Dear Bruce,

When I first read you post I thought "he's missed the point", but of course you hadn't.  The point of my Tuesday rambling clearly being "How can Cheryl make the biggest ass of herself in front of the most people, in the shortest amount of time?"  Groveling apologies to all.  Thanks Bruce for letting me know just how admirably I'd suceeded...and I mean that sincerely.  I've no excuse except a failure to follow my own rules of writing, one of which is "Never write an opinion piece when you're mad about something, no matter how unrelated the two are."

All I meant to say is that my life choices have brought me into daily contact as a work colleague with a group of people who, because these people simply don't complete Nursing programs or go to graduate school, other people who post here may not have had as much experience with. (Working with them, I'm not talking about as clients or patients.)

What I'd really like to talk about is some of the things you've said about Fanny Price as an orphan and her search for a home and family (on Pemberley.com.) Have you already discussed those things here and I missed it?  The horrifying part is that now I have this mental image of Fanny as "Dondi" in the comic strip.  Those huge eyes...

I'd also like to talk about how Elizabeth's change of feelings and Mr. Darcy's change in manners starts before the receipt of Mr. Darcy's letter and Elizabeth's visit to Pemberley, if anyone's interested and can equal Henry Tilney's forbearance.

Yours in ashes and sackcloth,
Cheryl

Dear Cheryl,

I doubt you offended the rest of the world but you may have been impertinent if you have in any way imposed your own definition of 'class', on me or anybody else, merely on the strength of a few conversational letters to a website.  You should not make such assumptions. If you choose to continue, kindly keep your estimations private or at least exclude me from them.
Julie

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