The Voices of Men in Praise of Jane Austen
Messages on the Bulletin Board - c. June 26, 2000

Dear Folks,

Bruce brought up an interesting comparison on 6/27/00, the comparison of the treatments meted out by two Jane Austen families to wayward daughters. I had never thought to think about this and have found the exercise interesting and want to explore that with you here.

Bruce seems to say that the Bennets had it right and the Bertrams had it wrong, and the actions of former can be used to to condemn the latter. Does Bruce forget that there is one commonality? - the mind of Jane Austen. How might Bruce explain the Austen schizophrenia? It seems to me that there are so many differences of situation and other rather remarkable similarities of outcome that any schizophrenia is far more apparent than real.

First of all, there are the differences in situations. Lydia Bennet was little more than a child - barely sixteen, while Wickham was in his late twenties. Further, Lydia was immature for her age and had been left too exposed by her own family. Elizabeth had been very explicit and adament with her father; she had warned him he was imprudent by allowing Lydia out of his supervision, and events proved her prophetic. Mr Bennet had only himself to blame and he would eventually confess it and acknowledge Elizabeth's superior wisdom in the matter. On the other hand, Sir Thomas had gone to Maria and encouraged her to break off the engagement after he had become acquainted with Rushworth. It seems to me that Sir Thomas need only regret that he had not been more adamant. Still another difference is that Lydia was acting out of love; the poor dear certainly could not have had mercenary motives. On the other hand, Maria was acting out of naked avarice; she loathed Rushworth and cold-bloodedly obtained a share of his wealth while lusting after Crawford. Lydia openly eloped with Wickham while Maria tried to have it both ways by attempting to keep her assignation with Crawford a secret.

Bruce errs when he suggests that Mr Bennet arranged for Lydia to marry. Mr Bennet did nothing of the kind - Mr Bennet did absolutely nothing - he was hiding in his library while Darcy made all the decisions and arrangements. It was Darcy who first tried to detach Lydia, and then began to negotiate a marriage contract when it became clear that separation was impossible. That's funny when you think about it, but I love it - Darcy is the man! - So presumptuous, so egotistical, so - so right. (Of course, this was the same level of testosterone that encouraged him to be so decisive in the matter of Bingley's love life.)

I also promised similarities. Mr Bennet's initial reaction was very similar to Sir Thomas's; he, at first, adamantly refused to recognize the couple, refused to allow them admittance to Longbourne. However, his two eldest daughters prevailed upon him to relent and so he did. Perhaps he decided to take Elizabeth's advice more readily or perhaps he decided this was an easier path that would leave him more time for novel reading. And was the outcome so very different? Maria was banished to "another country", but Lydia ended up in the very north-eastern corner of England. Of course, Lydia was sent there, effectively, by Darcy who purchased Wickham's commission.


Dear Ashton (and Bruce),

Ashton, you are exactly right.  The similarities in the two situations are on the surface only.  Maria Bertram is not an innocent girl seduced by an older man, she is a married woman seeking sexual gratification. Society has always forgiven a woman for being tricked into sex, but seldom for pursuing it herself.  Nor are Wickham and Henry Crawford's trespasses equal. Wickham is nothing but a casual visitor at the Bennets while Henry has tie upon tie to Mansfield Park -- his (declared) engagement to Fanny, his friendship with Edmund, he has even managed to charm Sir Thomas himself.  This is a level of betrayal quite beyond Wickham's. Indeed, by trying to prevent a marriage to such Henry, Edmund and Sir Thomas are showing more concern for Maria than the Bennets do for Lydia.
Cheryl


Dear Ashton,

Another Lydia-Maria similarity is that neither cares for her family.

In an Austen novel, openly rejecting one's family is a sure indication of a bad nature that must come to grief. Lydia's grief comes some years after her marriage, and Charlotte the wise does say that no matter how promising a marriage may seem, it is certain to have problems down the line.

In Lydia's case, grief might have happened any way--as it could for anyone. But there have been so many successful marriages that one can only reasonably take Charlotte's philosophy to mean more than unexpected possibility. She did not rule out happy marriages.


To All,

According to Claude Levi-Strauss (the great French Anthropologist and structuralist) one function of myths is to overcome logical contradictions.  In fact, in a bizarre and yet fun approach to criticism, he suggests telling the story in the simplest possible way, and then rearranging the sentences to reveal the contradictions which are dealt with in the story.  I won’t go through the whole process here, but here are some of the thoughts it leads to.

The obvious correlation is between the one suitor (Bingley) who doesn’t propose (but would be accepted if he did) and the other suitor (Darcy) who does propose, and is rejected.  (We’ll forget Mr. C for a minute) The outcome, of course, is the same (no marriage), and leads to the same (and opposite) conclusion (marriage).

If we look at some of the other contradictions, the structure of the book becomes even clearer. Elizabeth dislikes Darcy because Darcy originally found her unattractive (at the dance). She then grows to like Darcy because he finds her attractive (the proposal scene).  Her distaste for Darcy is the result of prejudice  so is her attraction to him.  If he had never proposed to her, do you think Elizabeth would have thought about him so much between Rosings and Pemberly? Would she have been so concerned with him when she met him at Pemberly, or talked to the Housekeeper?  Of course not.

George Orwell, in his essay on Ghandi, points out that saints (like Ghandi) cannot love individual people, because they are required to love all of mankind equally.  That’s why Ghandi abstained from having sex with his wife for 30 years.  But for most of us, love MEANS having a prejudice in favor of one person above all others.  We all favor our spouses or our children in a prejudiced and unsaintly way.

In a sense, Austen is saying rejection is like acceptance (or at least leads to it), and that love is like hate ("There’s a thin line" acc. The song.), and that pride is like prejudice.  All are flip sides of the same coin ­ joined, as it were, by solid metal.

Austen is also saying that Elizabeth is not cured of her prejudice, she merely flips the coin. If she is prejudiced against Darcy at the beginning of the book, surely she is prejudiced in his favor at the end (as Orwell points out).


Dear Dave, (!),

I wonder if Mrs Norris, in her relations with the Price children, visits the sins of the mother upon the heads of the children, just a little?  Of the three sisters, Mrs Norris is the only one to find herself 'obliged to be attached' to her husband, after waiting in vain for a husband like Maria's ('there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world, as there are pretty women to deserve them').  Her younger sister seems to have married for sex, a la Lydia Bennet (one draws this conclusion simply because there seems no other possible reason for choosing Lieutenant Price), and it is Mrs Norris who reacts angrily, writing 'a long and angry letter to Fanny, to point out the folly of her conduct, and threaten her with all its possible ill consequences.'  It is interesting to note that young Mrs Price, in her reply, brings up 'the pride of Sir Thomas', whom she must have known for over six years, by then.  In this light, Mrs Norris' treatment of Fanny reminds me of Mrs Reed's treatment of her little niece, Jane Eyre ('I had a dislike for her mother, always ...').

I do agree with you, however, that Mrs Norris is not evil in the sense that she does not consciously plot or plan for unpleasant things to happen to those around her: her disastrous dealings with her family stem from the depths of her self-delusion, about herself, her position at Mansfield Park, and the true feelings of others towards herself (it must be self-delusion indeed, to believe that Maria Bertram loves Mrs Norris; even Edmund can state that Mrs Norris 'has no influence with either Maria or Tom that could be useful').

Mrs Norris and Maria, perhaps, suffer the most of all the characters, from Maria's elopement. Mrs Norris is 'an altered creature', unable to gain any comfort from those around her (the arrival of Fanny and Edmund back from Portsmouth brings her no relief, as it does her companions). Mrs Norris is truly left with nothing and nobody:  Susan is established at Mansfield Park to take care of Lady Bertram; Sir Thomas is almost ready to sell off another daughter, if that's what it takes to be rid of his sister-in-law   and Maria can't stand her aunt.

She is rather a tragic figure, really.  Her like was drawn by Patrick White in his play A Cheery Soul - and a dreadful drawing it is.
Julie


Dear Dave,

I don't necessarily disagree with you, but I wonder if you've considered everything that we know about Mrs. Norris and Mary Crawford before declaring one merely selfish and the other evil.

Mrs. Norris was married to a clergyman.  One would think she would realize the danger of her covetousness, her lack of charity, stealing from Sir Thomas (remember the green cloth?), and other sins.  In fact, her "selfishness" results in actual harm to nearly everyone around her: Maria, Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram, even Tom Betram.  (I include Tom because often an aunt or uncle can collar a young person's bad behavior better than the parent.  But Mrs. Norris never even tries.)

Mary Crawford on the other hand, has apparently never been exposed to the concept of moral duty or delaying today's pleasure for tomorrow's gain. And unlike Mrs. Norris, Mary isn't old enough to know better.   It's true she has ill wishes for Tom Bertram for her own selfish reasons, but Mrs. Norris had ill wishes for Sir Thomas' visit to Antigua just so that she could be in the limelight during the tradgedy.

Again, I'm not sure if I disagree with your view, I'm just thinking aloud.  As for Mansfield Park, The Movie ... Mrs. Norris is never the presence she is in the book, and she's given a little redeeming incident toward the end to soften her, the point of which, I cannot imagine.
Cheryl


Dear Dave,

I do agree with you that Mrs. Norris is not an evil person.  My experience leads me down another path to arrive at that conclusion.

It was with great pain that I noticed Mrs. Norris' attitude and remarks to Fanny.  The reason being that I have two Aunts so similar to her who have made much the same type of remarks to me or anyone else who came within hearing distance.  My Aunts may be in their 90s but their tongues are as sharp as ever.  Mrs. Norris lives!

I would not label these dear souls as evil - opinionated, vocal, and disagreeable - yes.  The dear old souls actually believe the things they say will benefit the hearer. The motive for their remarks was not so much selfish (trying to promote themselves) but more like taking it upon themselves to straighten out the whole world.  I hope that I have learned not to imitate their example. They have minds like concrete - thoroughly mixed up and firmly set.

I am up to Vol. II Chapter VI in my reading of Mansfield Park so I will only comment on Mrs. Norris.  Comments on Henry and Maria will come later.  I do like your comparison of Mrs. Norris with the corporate climber.


Dear Folks,

I will avoid discussion of the definition of "evil" as I sense it is religious and philosophical and beyond my depth. I will only say that, down here, we think that evil is as evil does. I might agree with Dave that the reviewer chose too strong a word, but her basic point is a good one. The reviewer is trying to say that Rozema's agenda is male-bashing and, as such, she must pervert Jane Austen's intent. Rozema makes a basically good character, Sir Thomas, into a monster, and she then makes a abusive female character, Aunt Norris, into an innocuous one. In my opinion, Rozema's real target is Jane Austen who was fair and appreciative of good men and, therefore, a danger to the modern view of things.

I might also say to Dave, that if Tom had died, Edmund would have had more than the living, he would have been the heir - he would have had the wealth and the title.

I think that Bruce is far too kind to Mary Crawford and neglects two points in her last meeting with Edmund - two points that make Bruce's indictment of Fanny and Edmund difficult if not impossible. Edmund clearly indicates that he blames Mary's brother far more than he does his sister, Maria. That was certainly his stance with Mary; notice how their conversation begins. Mary advised Edmund to muzzle Sir Thomas so that a marriage between her brother and Maria might more easily be affected. Edmund was appalled at the suggestion of a connection of his family to a man of such a low character. The second point is that Edmund's major complaint is that Mary was only concerned that the couple had been detected and was not at all concerned about their transgression. As a matter of fact, Mary seemed to think a yearly assignation of her brother with Mrs Rushworth would have been acceptable if kept discreet. Is that acceptable to you, Bruce? If so, then I truly am a Puritan and there truly is a generation gap.


Dear Ashton et. al.,

I’m not sure what your point is, Ashton.  Let’s compare the Bertram reaction to that of the Bennets.  The difference appears to be that Mr. Bennet tries to separate Lydia and Wickham (although his attempt is unsuccessful) and Mary thinks that Sir Thomas should NOT make the attempt.  However, the Bennets hope for (and succeed in getting) Wickham’s marriage to Lydia. How are Mary’s hopes and plans different from those of Mrs. Bennet, or Jane Bennet, or Elizabeth Bennet, or even Mr. Bennet?

'We must persuade Henry to marry her,' said she (Mary).  What is so horrible about this?  Is it not precisely what all the Bennets hoped for?

Mary adds,

"What I advise is, that your father be quiet. Do not let him injure his own cause by interference. Persuade him to let things take their course. If by any officious exertions of his, she is induced to leave Henry's protection, there will be much less chance of his marrying her than if she remain with him. I know how he is likely to be influenced. Let Sir Thomas trust to his honour and compassion, and it may all end well  but if he get his daughter away, it will be destroying the chief hold.'"

No doubt this shocks Edmund, who loathes such continued sin.

But it is practical advice, and would be the best thing for Maria. Edmund and Sir Thomas appear to care less about Maria’s fate than Mary Crawford does.

Also, since when does the word "flirtation" mean "sexual assignation"?  Indeed, "flirtation" specifically implies a LACK of consummation.   I also don’t think Mary Crawford was actually hoping for Tom’s death.  She thought of a joke, and couldn’t resist cracking it.  No doubt it was stupid and thoughtless of her -- it showed how little she understood Fanny’s character.  But I don’t think it was vicious or evil.

The extent to which some of the posters on this board want to find Mrs. Norris innocent of evil, and Mary Crawford guilty of it, is the extent to which I think the posters on this board are being silly.  Selfishness IS evil, when it leads to cruelty.  Mary Crawford is selfish, but never cruel.  In fact, it is Edmund who is cruel in their last meeting, and Edmund (not Mary) whose behavior in that meeting is worthy of condemnation.


Dear Bruce,

... to me, 'evil' is a word that indicates a conscious, determined nastiness.  Mr Eliot, for instance, could be called 'evil', in his treatment of his late wife, in his treatment of his late friend's widow, and in his treatment of the Eliot family:  he views people around him as things to be manipulated for his own gain, pure and simple.  Mrs Norris does this too, to a degree, but (and I never imagined I would be acting as an advocate for that woman) I believe that she truly does delude herself into thinking that she is acting for everybody's good.  She imagines herself to be self-sacrificing and dedicated to those she loves, God help them.

Whether misery incurred as a result of another's self-delusion is preferable to misery incurred by the calculated actions of evil persons, though, is another question.

In some ways, Mrs Norris prefigures some of the more repulsive characters in Victorian literature, who justify evil, and outright sadism, with references to God, etc.  Mr Brocklehurst comes to mind, as do numerous characters from Dickens.

Incidentally, I don't think Mary Crawford is particularly evil, either, but she can certainly be cruel:  remember the conversation she had with her sister regarding the Bertram sisters " 'I imagine both sisters are (in love with Henry)' she said, coldly"  some of Mary's actions towards Fanny are likewise less than kindly, though I'm prepared to believe that Mary's world was so different to Fanny's that the former simply could not understand that she was causing the latter pain:  the necklace, for instance.
Julie


Dear Janeites,

Bruce: Let me get this straight. Mary Crawford is not evil because she is concerned about the well being of Maria Rushworth. You've overlooked the fact that she had been aware of her brother's plan to attempt to make Fanny (the most innocent of the characters) fall in love with him just because he thought he could do it, and yet she did nothing to tell Fanny about this game, nor did she try to dissuade Henry from doing such a thing. She was almost a co-conspirator in the exercise. Mary Crawford's concern about Maria is, as I see it, not so much a concern about Maria as it is a concern about Henry. For Maria to be ostracized from the family further adds to the scandal and blackens Henry's reputation.

The Crawfords are manipulators. They think nothing of toying with people and they that they've hit the jackpot at Mansfield Park. The Crawfords are big city sophisticated. The Bertram children aren't. To me, it appears almost as if the Crawfords are cats toying with mice.

Is Mrs. Norris' selfishness a sin? Of course it is. But it is, in a sense, a petty sin. In many ways she is a petty woman who lives in a very small world she wants to control. But she is not evil in the same way that I see Mary Crawford as being.

I have one question. If Mary Crawford's speculation concerning Tom's death was a joke, why wasn't Edmund laughing after he read it?


Janeites: In the book The Friendly Jane Austen by Natalie Tyler there is an interview with Anna Massey, who played Mrs. Norris in the 1983 BBC version of Mansfield Park. She makes the following comment about Mrs. Norris:

Q: Viewers loved your performance of a character that they love to hate.

Anna Massey: Yes, but Mrs. Norris is really pathetic. She is not evil in any way; she is pathetic. She is not out to damage anybody; she is just out to be in control and interfering.

Actors are not always the best judges of their material, but I think Miss Massey has a finger on the character, but that's probably only because she and I agree.

From the Meister: Massey's performance was perfect. I think
the only problem is that she is not a pretty woman. - I believe
that Jane Austen's Aunt Norris was pretty. Unhappily, Massey's
performance was not matched by the other cast members, with
the exception of the woman who played Mary Crawford.


Dear Dave, Julie, et al,

Edmund wasn’t laughing because he never read Mary Crawford’s letter, nor would it have been proper for Fanny to show it to him.  Indeed, it probably was improper for Fanny to tell him about it, and she spreads her catty claws a bit when she does so.  In the movie, when Mary solemnly and humorlessly brings up the possibility of Tom’s death at a family meeting, the scene shocks us because Mary’s stupidity and callousness is completely unbelievable.  There is no way that Mary (as stupid and ignorant of Fanny’s character as her letter is) would say such a thing to Edmund or Sir Thomas.  Freud said that humor represents the id bubbling out of the subconscious.  Mary was poking fun at herself for, in a tiny corner of her mind, harboring evil thoughts.  Her fault was not in the joke (which is clearly meant as a joke, and clearly meant to make fun of herself), but with her stupidity in not understanding how Fanny would react to it.

It is a reasonable reading of the book, I suppose, to see the Crawfords as wicked manipulators. But it’s not my reading, and I think my reading is just as reasonable.

Mary is not wicked for thinking it will do Fanny good to fall a little in love with Henry. In fact, she’s right.  Henry’s pursuit of Fanny DOES do Fanny good ­ it strengthens her self esteem and elevates her in the eyes of the rest of the family.

Why would a girl like Mary Crawford, a practiced flirt who loves the "game" of romance, possibly think that Henry’s pursuit of Fanny was a bad thing for Fanny?  I’m quite certain she didn’t, and I find it hard to believe that Austen condemns her for failing to dissuade Henry, or warn Fanny.

Is it evil to wish one’s friends to fall in love, even though we know that love often ends in heartbreak?  Mary’s cold statement about the Bertram sisters both being in love with Henry reflects, I think, her belief that neither is worthy of him.  She always thinks Fanny worthy (although she never understands her).  I don’t think Mary even imagines there’s anything wrong with giving Fanny the necklace.

As far as the last meeting between Edmund and Mary is concerned, I continue to believe that it is Edmund who is cruel, Edmund who is unloving toward his own sister, and Edmund who should be slapped in the face for some of the things he said to Mary.


Dear Bruce,

It seems that in Mansfield Park, in your view, the good characters suffer undeserved fates and the bad people triumph. Was it, in your opinion, Jane Austen's intent to write a great tragedy or do you think that this novel point to flaws in our Lady's understanding and outlook?


Dear Ashton et. al.,

I’m not sure that Austen set out to be quite as much of a moralist as some of her critics think her.  She meant to write a character study and a lampoon­ and the task she set for herself was to contrast attractive, worldly foils, and dull, reclusive heroes.  Artists sometimes get caught in webs of their own weaving, and Austen, perhaps, got caught in her own web in Manfield Park.

Certainly Austen writes MP in a different tone than her other novels.  I can’t find the quote, but she mentions somebody visiting a family "of lively manners and (probably) morals to match." Is this what we expect from the creator of Emma and Elizabeth? The task she sets for herself is to make the good humored, fun filled Crawfords essentially flawed, and the dull, censorious Edmund and Fanny essentially good.  But it’s a tough task.

Why does Austen seem to condemn Crawford for flirting with two sisters at once, when she allows Wentworth to get away with it.  Why does there always seem to demand an  extra call for discipline in Crawford?  Also, why does Edmund (who doubtless loves Fanny) press Crawford’s suit with her so assiduously?  Edmund is blind to Mary’s failings, which is reasonable for a lover, but we surely can’t expect him to be blind to Henry’s sins as well?  No.  Edmund (as conceited and judgmental as he is) approves of Henry.  Yet, somehow, Austen doesn’t.

Austen almost approves of the Crawfords herself.  "Would he have persevered, and uprightly, Fanny must have been his reward, and a reward very voluntarily bestowed, within a reasonable period from Edmund’s marrying Mary."

Passages like the above make me wonder what Austen’s opinions about all this really were. Some critics have thought that the religious revival in England influenced Mansfield Park. I’m not so sure.  I think there may be "author reasons" for having the book turn out the way it does, rather than "moral reasons" or "personal reasons".

Mansfield Park is a study in character contrasts, and these are symbolic.  Edmund is conceited, judgmental and dull.  Henry is conceited, judgmental, and exciting.  If, as I have suggested before on these pages, Mansfield Park can be seen as a search for a home by homeless Fanny, Crawford represents the excitement of the outside world, and Edmund the safety of the country home.  Home may be dull, but it is safe.  The world may be exciting, but it is dangerous. Maria’s lapses lead her to be banished from home.  The Crawford’s moral looseness is the result of their lack of a real home. The play is evil because it physically alters the home.

In the standard fairy tale the hero goes out into the great wide world to seek his fortune. Fanny does precisely the opposite, rejecting the heroic journey into the great wide world in favour of seeking her fortune by marrying a member of her own family (at lest since she was 10). Mansfield Park is a rejection of the heroic in favor of the safe; a rejection of wit and talent in favor of stolid moral fiber; a rejection of romance in favor of affection.

I know that this is somewhat rambling, and not very coherent (I’ve been making it up as I go along, and had no idea what my conclusions were going to be until just now).  But I have a feeling that Mansfield Park is a more sophisticated, subtler Northanger Abbey. N.A. pokes fun at the conventions of the romance novel ­ so does MP, but in a more mature, subtle, and sophisticated manner.



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