6/9/00 Julie Grassi - [banya@bigpond.com] EXCUSE me?

Dear Sir,

That baseball cap of yours must be cutting off the circulation to your cerebellum.  However did you conceive that I 'do not much care' for Pride and Prejudice?  I don't know the bloody thing by heart, simply in order to make criticisms easier. Sense and Sensibility is the one I don't much care for.

However, to return to the point: my Darcy (and Jane Austen's, I believe), is, indeed, obtuse, up to the time of Elizabeth's rejection of his proposals, and swift character assassination.  That is why his whole world drops on his head at the words ' ... had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner', which is smartly followed by more of the same.  He endures a bitterness of spirit, as he himself acknowledges, for some time, before he is led to really think about himself and Elizabeth's reproofs: the result of that period of self-analysis can be seen at their subsequent meeting at Rosings, and is discussed further, by Darcy himself, after Elizabeth finally accepts him.

Elizabeth has to endure similar trial by self-examination, when she realises that, if one part of Darcy's letter is true, then she must look at all of it in a different light:  Darcy's comments on her family is then seen as a ' mortifying, yet merited, reproach', which leaves her 'depressed beyond anything she had ever known before.'  One result of this is Elizabeth's desperate plea to her father, to exert some control over Lydia; 'Mr Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject', as indeed it was.

Darcy had no reason to be panicked into proposing to Elizabeth; his manner did not indicate it (in fact, his creator explicitly comments on his 'ease' and 'security')  Colonel Fitzwilliam's financial and social circumstances would be perfectly well known to his cousin, who would know as well as the Colonel himself that a marriage to a poor woman was not an option.

By the way, I've been wondering for some time what the term 'going to the Parish' might mean?
Julie

6/9/00 Ashton - Dear Julie and Michael: are you consistent?

Dear Voices,

I think your view of Darcy is incompatible with the first half of the novel. However, you are repeating something that Darcy says himself, and only a fool would deny that such an explicit quote is a powerful support for you view. However, eliminate that single passage and your interpretation in nothing more than interpretation. I think that I point to far more text than either of you to support my view, but you choose to ignore my presentations.

Very well, you have an explicit statement and the only thing I can do, to make any headway, is to test your consistency in this matter. Here is another explicit statement from about the same point in the novel - this is an explicit statement of Elizabeth's about her own conduct during that first proposal.

" 'We will not quarrel for the greater share of the blame annexed to that evening,' said Elizabeth. 'The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility ... Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you, that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.' "

Now, fortunately for myself, my own approach to reading a Jane Austen novel allows me to completely discount these statements of Elizabeth. In fact, I go so far as to take the view then expressed by Darcy himself, that he alone was to blame and her reactions had been natural and justified. We both love Elizabeth and not just a little bit of our love is due to the courage she showed at the proposal. If I were to apply your approach consistently, I would be compelled to condemn Elizabeth for her reproachable, uncivil, shameful behavior during the first proposal. Is that the way you would have me think of Elizabeth Bennet?

6/10/00 Juli Grassi - [banya@bigpond.com] Why judge at all?

Dear Sir,

I find no cause to judge or condemn Elizabeth, or anybody else.

Elizabeth and Darcy are both shattered after the first proposal at Rosings.  This sudden, brutal clash with reality, causing the character to examine and reasses his/her whole world, and attitude to life, is a device that appears also in Emma, and, in a modified, more gentle form, to Captain Wentworth in Persuasion. The fact that the characters have the capacity, and the basic humility and goodness, to be able to see themselves as others do (no pleasant task for any of us, that), to learn, and to attempt to change for the better, is a measure of their worth.

Darcy and Elizabeth are both traumatised on first learning how each sees the other, and their families; it knocks them out of their smugness, makes them wake up, and makes them grow up. The second time Darcy proposes to Elizabeth, they are both of them much wiser, and have both learned a little humility, which does neither any harm.

Darcy's pride stems from his upbringing ('(I) was allowed, encouraged, almost taught (to be) selfish and overbearing'), Elizabeth's from her father's favouritism, and from the fact that she is the cleverest person, apart from him, that she knows.  She lives to wish that she had been a little less clever with her facile tongue, when she first discusses her engagement with her father.

Elizabeth's own estimation of her early conduct towards Darcy is that she had been 'very weak and vain and nonsensical....'   she wryly comments that 'One may be continually abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.'

At the end of the day, we will each of us enjoy the novel as we choose; the fact that we can justify such different interpretations is a mark of the work's greatness.  I like my view, because, of course, it is mine, but also because of the depth it gives the characters, as they learn to know themselves, and grow from the experience.
Julie

6/10/00 Michael Mogen - [mmogen@packetengines.com] Upon what do we base our discussions?

Dear Mr Dennis,

I'm not sure what your purpose in discussing the novel is. You seem to ignore what Jane Austen writes in the text and insist on substituting your own vision of her characters.

Jane Austen has Darcy say directly that he was absolutely certain Elizabeth would accept his first proposal. "I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses..." Austen depicts Darcy's cocksure "security" during his proposal as angering Elizabeth. Austen uses their walks in the park to carefully set up a most amazing scene where Darcy thinks Elizabeth is expecting his offer and Elizabeth is dumbfounded that he is making it. Yet you ignore this textual evidence and imagine a panic-stricken Darcy instead.

You call a view of the character which is based on the novel text "orthodox," as if that is somehow inferior to the one you've made up. You admit that my (and Julie's) reading of the novel is "logical and therefore valid," but, in your view, "mediocre." If the text of the novel is not to be used as the authority, upon what do you recommend we base our discussions?

6/10/00 Ashton - The basis is the text, but the entire text

Dear Mr Mogen,

I have referred to far more text than you in this debate, you ignore all that, and then suggest that I am "ignoring what Jane Austen writes".

Among the things you ignore, is the question I set for you; I quoted Elizabeth, from the text, and asked if you propose to accept that literally? I ask you here again, do you propose that Elizabeth was guilty of "reproachable, uncivil, shameful behavior" during the first proposal? The obvious answer is "no", even though that is what Elizabeth said, that is what Jane Austen wrote.

This question is meant to expose the nature of your approach, which is to take everything at its literal value. The idea is that if I can obtain your agreement that Elizabeth's statement need not be taken literally, then you might be willing to admit that Darcy's need not either. Great writers never intend such a literal interpretation, great writers create complete characters and expect readers to use that characterization to accept the statements of some characters, discard others, and look for the hidden meanings in others. Pope said it this way,
"I do not write for such dull elves,
As have not a great deal of ingenuity themselves."
The dull little elves can read the other kind of novels and are not expected to meet Pope's requirement, but then, we don't need a rash of web sites to attempt to better understand those authors.

Incidentally, Elizabeth's statement is a fine thing, coming at the time that it did. Darcy and Elizabeth were forming their reconciliation and this was her way of taking some of the burden from her beloved - bravo. Who would criticize her for that?

6/10/00 Julie Grassi - [banya@bigpond.com] Taking up an idea, and making everything bend to it, as Mrs Weston said ...

Reference: 6/9/00

Dear Sir,

Nobody is accusing Elizabeth of shameful behaviour; don't be silly.

The woman is simply acknowledging that she was wrong: as Darcy points out, indeed, a few paragraphs earlier: '......your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises'. Elizabeth knows this, and caring for Darcy as she now knows she does, of course she is embarrassed to have the words repeated.  She and Darcy both know, however, the truth that is revealed, if the above quote is written out in its entirety: 'What did you say of me, that I did not deserve?  For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time, had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.'

They are both quite right; as Elizabeth says, 'the conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable'; each has, however, improved tremendously in terms of self-knowledge and maturity, by the time the above conversation takes place, and they are both much better people for it.

I do not agree with your interpretation of the characters, particularly Darcy (though I will defend to the death your right to hold it), because I think it lessens the character, makes it less interesting, and certainly lessens the development of both Darcy and Elizabeth as people. I cannot see that it is supported by the text: neither by the authorial voice of Jane Austen, nor by Darcy's acknowledged feelings, analysis and explanation of his own behaviour, nor by Elizabeth's.  These characters have insight into their actions, and freely acknowledge their motives, and their faults, to themselves and to each other, in the time that follows Darcy's first proposal.
Julie

From the Meister: One of us is too excited so that my message to you is not getting through. First of all, let me say that I admire Elizabeth for saying what she did at the time, it was magnanimous and loving of her - and not one bit accurate. I introduced this quote as a device to illustrate what I believe you and Michael do wrong. Then, is not your first paragraph a repudiation of your main principle in this debate; namely, that the statement of a character must be taken literally and at face value with no interpretation allowed? I mean, how can you hold Darcy to this principle and then abandon it where Elizabeth is concerned? I have no such problem, because my focus is on the Jane Austen's total development of her characters. Incidentally, I note that you seem to think that Darcy's character is not lessened if he is interpreted as a total prig.

6/8/00 Bruce - Three Quick Points

Dear John et. al.,

Three points in my discussion with John:

• 1) I agree with John about the Persuasion scene to this extent: the scene is emotionally evocative and there is a definition of "sensuous" (in my dictionary, one of the less common definitions) that allows the word to refer not only to the physical senses, but to aesthetic, intellectual, and emotional "sensitivity".  The intellect and the emotions are Austen’s milieu. She describes the "senses" (touch, taste, hearing, vision) as little as any author.  We are not reading different books, and I have already said I find your "reading" of the scene reasonable, however little Austen describes those things you "read into" it when you rewrote it below.

• 2)  Julie accuses Austen of flubbing some of the emotionally charged speeches in the novels, and thinks that’s why Edmund sounds so judgmental about Mary Crawford.  Perhaps.  But Sir Thomas (and, probably, Edmund) shun Maria even AFTER she is separated from Henry Crawford. My objection to Edmund and Sir Thomas is not an objection to their religion, but a claim that they are not following their own principles. "Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us." Henry Tilney may have distinguished between condemn and contemn, but I doubt he would have claimed that Jesus contemned the adultress.  Have you any evidence that He did?  Has Christianity changed so much in the last 200 years that these principles were different then? If not, what is your point about the difference between condemn and contemn?

  John asks, "How does one give full pardon to one who remains in a state of contempt for one's greatest values?"  I’m not sure that is what the Christian does.  The Christian forgives the "sins against us." That is, adultery is a sin against God, a sin against the spouse, and a sin (broken promise) against "this company". It would be presumptuous for a member of "this company" to forgive the sin against God, or the sin against the spouse, but reasonable to forgive the sin against himself. In any event, "love never faileth", and I continue to believe that Sir Thomas should love his daughter and bring her back into the family fold.  If the neighbors are insulted, Sir Thomas should tell them, "Here I stand, and I can do no other."

• 3) John says, "Criticism is rubbish that takes a work of art out of its context." John is certainly free to consign any criticism he chooses to his own rubbish heap, but he certainly cannot expect anyone else to agree with a comment like this.  Criticism is as criticism does ­ and the main point of criticism is to entertain and enlighten modern readers. It is perfectly fair and reasonable for a critic to say, "To our modern tastes, Edmund seems priggish."  A novel has an audience. If the author is long dead, the readers are alive and bring their own tastes, preconceptions, etc. to their reading.  Why is it "rubbish" to judge ancient books by modern standards?  Why should I avoid saying that Sir Thomas should forgive his daughter and bring her back into the family fold?  Perhaps these are modern opinions; in fact, they are my opinions, and I have yet to learn to contemn them.

6/9/00 John - An olive branch (of sorts) held out to Bruce

Dear Bruce, old boy,

Christ said specifically that he did not condemn the woman. He said, "And neither do I condemn you." But he did contemn her act. He said, "Go, and sin no more." He had judged her to have sinned. One may fairly read into His actions and words that if she refrained from committing that sin again she was forgiven. Or if she meant to behave herself but again submitted to temptation (woman is a weak vessel--and man is putty in her hands, to mix a metaphor) then there may be occasion for a second round of forgiveness. If you maintain that Christ's refusal to stone the woman to death and his insistence that only the accuser without sin should cast the first stone are evidence of forgiveness, then so far must I agree with you. But he did not say that her sins were forgiven her, only that she must endeavour to sin no more--and He was not speaking a mere pleasantry.

But Maria, unlike Julia, did not ask for her father's forgiveness but remained in sullen anger and refused to communicate with her family, except that she accepted his caritas because she had no practicable choice in the matter.

More than a hundred years later, Edward Duke of Windsor was exiled to a governorship in the West Indies because he had married a divorced woman. Today, the only objection to the marriage of the Prince of Wales and his chosen woman is that she is a divorced woman. It may be that a way may be discovered for the marriage to take place within the Church of England but the matter is not taken lightly even in your modern period.

Now, may I say that I hope to read in your next posting other matters.

6/10/00 Bruce - One more quick note on Maria's banishment

Dear John, et. al.

I do not contend that the banishment of Maria is unusual, or unfair, or opposed to the norms of early 19th century English society.  I contend that Sir Thomas (and Edmund, unless he argues against it) are acting in an unloving (and thus unChristian) manner.

On a strictly practical basis, does anyone really think sending Maria to live in isolation with Mrs. Norris will lead her on the path of repentance, or righteousness?  I know that I don’t. According to Saint Paul, "Love beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.  Love never faileth."  Yet Sir Thomas and his family seem unwilling to bear, hope, or endure much for the sake of their daughter and sister.

It seems to me that the Bertram family should practice a bit of Christian Charity, and do what they can to reintroduce Maria to both society, and to the ethical principles of the Christian church.

The Bertram family cross (to mix a metaphor) is that they are not a loving family.  Sir Thomas is a distant, unemotional, and uninvolved father.  Has he really learned his lesson by the end of the book, as Austen seems to imply?  I don’t think so.  He has learned how to better serve his own interests in a practical way (by countenancing Edmund and Fanny’s marriage, for example), but he has NOT learned to love his family better, and that is the lesson he sorely needs.  For your own sake, Sir Thomas, and for the sake of your daughter, I beg you to write to Maria, and lovingly beg her to return home.  Tell her that you miss her, and that you love her, and that she can always count on her father’s love and support.

What you do with Mrs. Norris, sir, is up to you.

6/8/00 Cheryl - I came, I saw, I was entertained

To All,

A short stint of light duty seems reasonable after so long out of the loop ... therefore I present some movie reviews.

Topsy Turvy: This long and disappointing movie about Gilbert & Sullivan is a mish-mash of disjointed vignettes from both the operettas and the lives of G & S and their principal actors and business partners.  Presented almost as a series of tableau, not a single thread ties any of the first 60 minutes of the movie to anything else and most of the scenes have all the animation of drying paint.  The second half of the movie (ostensibly what "Topsy Turvy" is "about") is how the "Mikado" came to be.  Things liven up for a bit when we get to see some of Gilbert's famous wit during a rehearsal.  Unfortunately, the rest of the movie remains a bore and the heavy-handed comparisons between the end of the 19th and 20th centuries (technological marvels and rampant drug abuse) cease to amuse during the first act.  Jim Broadbent as Gilbert is the only redeeming thing in the film, unless you're a fan of the operettas themselves (I'm not) in which case you get to see numerous songs performed in perfect replicas of the original Savoy theatre costumes.

From the Meister: Let me get this straight, you
don't like Gilbert and Sullivan Operas? See that
Kevin Kline version of Pirates of Penzance - that
will turn you around. Did you know that "Penzance"
is a real place? look on the map near Lands End
(southwest tip of England).

The End of The Affair: -- If you liked The English Patient you'll like this one, in fact, the plot mirrors TEP quite closely.  A doomed adulterous affair during the second World War, told almost entirely in flashback.  I enjoyed it well enough and if there is anyone out there who didn't get to see enough of Julianne Moore naked in Boogie Nights (difficult though that would be to believe) this is the movie for you.  Some day though, I wish Ralph Fiennes would get a role the would require more than looking sad and/or intense.  I mean, can this guy really act or not?

From the Meister: I am glad they made Boogie
Nights, and not just because I am in love with
Julianne Moore - I think the film important. If
you like Ms Moore as an actress, then see Vanya
on 42nd Street and An Ideal Husband. - Both
films are superb!

Gladiator: I hate to admit it, but I found it very entertaining, but bear in mind this is complete fiction using the names of real people. NOT history.  The casting was particularly good -- accurate or not, Russell Crowe is perfect for my mental image of a Roman general. Joachin Phoenix is a surprisingly good Commodus ... not only is he the personification of the overgrown spoiled brat who gets to run the world, but he doesn't stoop to giving the character a single sympathetic quality.    Lucilla is perhaps too virtuous, but the actress gives the character that oldest sibling bitter edge which offsets it well.  Naturally, Derek Jacobi shows up (as a Senator) and Oliver Reed aquits himself well enough in his final role.

I particularly appreciated that the characters on the screen weren't mouthing modern attitudes about diverisity or senseless violence, or the worth of native cultures ... in other words, it didn't have the fatal flaw of slapping modern acting and speaking characters into costume ala Titanic.  The violence was, as always, too graphic for my taste (comparble to "Mature" rated video games.) but the guys will like it.  It's a pity, because otherwise, this movie is appropriate for the whole family.

The major faults of the film lie squarely in the hands of director Ridley Scott.  In an attempt to make his audience understand that "Gladiator" is meant to be a serious film, we have artsy camera angles/effects and long looks at clouds scudding across the sky, vast African horizons, etc.  Too much in a movie that already run 2 hours and 34 minutes.  The use of the grainy time-jumping camera effect was novel in "Bram Stoker's Dracula" tolerable in "Private Ryan" but trite and annoying in "Gladiator."

The second problem is the over use of CGI (computer generated image) technology.  The opening battle takes place in an animated snow storm, the cheesiness of which rivals the golden age of TV when stage hands shook soap flakes over the actors' heads.  And rather than having the stuntman Roman cavalry ride Roman style, which I admit would have been difficult, the stirrups are simply digitally removed, and it  looks ridiculous.  The exteriors of the Coliseum, and the city are spectacular, though I don't know how accurate they are.

All in all a good action-epic.  The hero is heroic, the villian gets his just desserts, and if most of the audience leaves the theatre thinking the Republic was restored in 180 a.d. I suppose that's their problem.
Cheryl

From the Meister: Let me get this straight, you
don't like Gilbert and Sullivan Operas? But
you do like Gladiator?

6/9/00 Julie Grassi - [banya@bigpond.com] Of course she was entertained ...

Dear Sir,

Cheryl's preference for Gladiator over G. & S. is easily explained:  Russell Crowe is, of course, Australian.
Julie

From the Meister: Don't be so sure; your Elizabeth II thought Anthony Hopkins was an Englishman when Her Highness made him a Knight; now, it turns out that he has decided he is an American. When he takes his oath of citizenship, he will have to renounce all European titles - that is our ancient rule.

6/8/00 Cheryl - Gilbert & Sullivan, Julianne Moore, and Russel Crowe

Dear Ashton & Julie,

Ashton -- I knew somebody was going to give me crap about not liking G & S. No, I do not like Gilbert and Sullivan.  God knows, I've tried, but I just can't do it.  I couldn't even watch the Eric Idle version of the Mikado (sorry Julie.)  Gilbert's lyrics are often witty, but can't overcome the tediousness of Sullivan's music.  In fact, the popular music from, say 1850 till 1930 is so much crap to my ears.  Still, that's beside the point as "Topsy Turvy" just wasn't a very good movie.

From the Meister: WHAT? Moi? Give pooh-pooh?
I hardly think so! Watch the film I recommended.

Are you reviling my taste because you've seen "Gladiator" and disliked it, or merely because it's a popular movie?  I see nothing wrong with mindless genre movies, provided they fulfil their primary agenda which is to entertain.  "Gladiator" was entertaining in most respects, and that's how I recommended it.

I've seen An Ideal Husband and enjoyed it well enough.  I'm not sure why you think Boogie Nights is an important film.  Did I really need a movie to tell me that the porn industry is peopled by pathetic, drug addled losers?  In the real world, who else (male or female) fucks for money?  Though, for some reason, my husband agrees with you, and considers it one of the best movies of the 90's.

From the Meister: No, you don't need
it, but a whole lot of other folks do.

I'm guessing here, from your use of the word "perversion" that you've now seen Ms. Rozema's Mansfield Park?  And that you, perhaps, didn't like it?  The problem is, that I have to see it on video now because it appears that the video version is not quite the same as the US theatrical release.

Julie -- strictly speaking, Russell Crowe's citizenship doesn't count as I've never actually seen him playing an Australian. But just for the record, his American accent in The Insider and LA Confidential is better than Jeremy Northam's in Happy Texas.  And far better than Ewan McGregor's in anything.
Cheryl