The Voices of Men in Praise of Jane Austen
Messages on the Bulletin Board - c. July 7, 2000

Dear Gang,

There are at least three items in Pride and Prejudice that Jane Austen hands us and then provides no explicit explanation. That means that we are all free to interpret. I thought it might be fun if we all gave our opinions, as it will reveal how each of us thinks about Darcy and Mr. Bennet. I mean the range of thought on those two gentlemen might be very interesting.

I begin with what I think is a softball.

OK, no more softballs - time for hardball and my next pitches are a high inside fastball and then a split finger thrown at the low-outside corner.


Dear Ashton Dennis,

Mr. Darcy does not want gratitude or be seen as buying the good opinion of the Bennets, That much is obvious. Also strange as it may seem I also believe Mr. Wickam to be slightly embarrassed to be seen as having been "purchased" in front of Elizabeth.

The questions concerning Mr. Bennet are more interesting perhaps because in his verbal abuse of his wife he shows us how clever he can be. But, in Mr. Darcy's letter (after the first proposal) he mentions Mr. Bennet's inapropriate behavior. Jane Austin wrote that there are some people who will laugh at what is good and wise for the sake of a laugh and perhaps Mr. Bennet is one of these people. So if he is so clever why does Mr. Darcy not want to deal with him? I think it is simple, He is described as INDOLENT. Just an aside, I see Mr. Darcy as an action hero, and my sister sees him as a man with something rigid up his ... therefore if something must get done, why would anyone go to Mr. Bennet?

Concerning the last question as to him visiting when unexpected, my father-in-law, Mr. Payton used to come over very early and wake us up. He would sit and chat while we sipped our coffee in bed. Although he is always welcome I think part of it has to do with preparations we might otherwise make if we knew of his coming. Mr. Bennet would never be subjected to smiles with bedheads but seeing surprise on the face of his daughter or catching Mr. Darcy unawares might be fun. And we know how much he likes a laugh.
Jonesy

From the Meister: Jonesy! Where have you been? Please
make Dave share that mouse with you more often.


Dear Ashton Dennis,

"By the way Lydia, keep Mr. Darcy's involvement a secret" nudge nudge wink wink.


Dear BoardMeister,

Why does Darcy want to keep his role in Lydia's marriage a secret?

Everybody would wonder why he had done it. The less talk about him, the less likely the talk might involve Georgiana.

It is only

"during the second proposal that we learn for sure that Darcy is the secretive one, although we must have understood that all along."

We know from Aunt Gardiner's letter that Darcy dunnit.

Score: Two wild pitches.

" ... [Darcy] did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore postponed seeing [the latter] until after the departure of the former. ...".

Mr Bennet does not know that Darcy has full knowledge of the elopement. He would wonder why Darcy was taking an interest in something that was not his business. It would be awkward dealing with a man who must be emotionally wrought. Too dangerous to Georgiana  too embarrassing to Elizabeth. Mr Bennet does not always act in a responsible way.

Score: wild pitch.

Jane Austen writes,

" ... [Mr Bennet] delighted in going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected." Least expected??

He likes to give delight through surprise even though it may cause pain. A letter should precede. Remember, he first told Mrs Bennet that he would not visit single men in possession of a good fortune until there were twenty such.  But he saw Bingley anyway. It can be inconvenient to receive surprise visitors, even only one.. They might have to put off a strawberry picking party or a fox hunt to another day.

Score: Three previous wild pitches take you to the shower.

We're straying here.  There is much good stuff in the Beatitudes and Mansfield Park still to discuss. Julie has said that it is easy to get her to talk, not so easy to get her stopped. I do not see that walking the talk. When Julie has walked the walk and talked the talk, then perhaps it will be time to wander afield.

From the Meister: Sadly, you have struck out. I might
ordinarily forgive a Canadian for such a sad at bat,
but you even whiffed on the soft ball. We learn from
Aunt Gardiner that Darcy dunnit, but our favorite aunt
is not explicit on the matter of secrecy. We are not
told that Darcy asked for the secrecy or why he might do
such a thing. I think Cheryl and Julie are upset with me.


Dear Bruce,

Why do you think that either Maria or Lydia feel shame? Maria feels only anger and Lydia is too empty headed to feel anything like shame, ever.

It is the fathers and perhaps the brothers and sisters for whom we ought to be concerned.

Do you know whether Shakespeare's bare bodkin had been transformed into the hatpin by Jane's day? Of all the characters in MP, only Rushworth is not likely to know what a bodkin is.


To All,

The problem is more likely to be in getting me to shut up.

However. As I don't happen to be Christian, this sort of thing is a little out of my line, but it does serve to reinforce my theory that there's nothing like God for starting an argument - and I bet God gets as bored as all hell with it (which is probably why she invented the place).

The Ten Commandments have probably provided more psychiatrists with more Porsches than any other ten points of reference going ...

Listen to our author, whose humanity may be trusted: 'Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery ...' Jane Austen was not a punishing person; rather, she was aware of Cause and Effect, as applied to the conduct of adult human beings.
Julie


Dear John,

There's really nothing I can add to your take on Fanny and the Beatitudes. You've hit the nail on the head and have opened an avenue for thought that I never considered before.

I had been considering the possibility that Fanny's story was ODJ's take on Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress with Fanny being the character Christian and (in another role reversal) Edmund Bertram being Christina. It really doesn't work out, but it's something to chew on.

Some people think of Fanny as being a wet rag, a door mat, an all around dog's body. I think they do not appreciate people who have interior lives that they are not quick to share. Fanny is not an Oprah Winfrey woman. She'd never be seen on Jerry Springer. She's not witty, nor is she busy for the sake of being busy. She's quiet and contemplative. She has more in common with Julian of Norwich than Elizabeth Bennet, and I think that some people resent that she doesn't have the sparkle that Lizzy has, but instead has a gravity about her that some people find threatening. And, in an age where superficiality is promoted and admired, Fanny's sincerity is out of sync.

But I could be wrong.


Dear Dave et. al.,

Dave says,

"(Fanny’s) not witty, nor is she busy for the sake of being busy. She's quiet and contemplative ... I think that some people resent that she doesn't have the sparkle that Lizzy has, but instead has a gravity about her that some people find threatening. And, in an age where superficiality is promoted and admired, Fanny's sincerity is out of sync."

There is some truth to this, obviously, but also, I think, some overstatement.  First, in a sense, Fanny is constantly INSINCERE.  That is, she must constantly hide her secret lust for her cousin.  As I point out in my post below, it is Catherine Morland who is sincere, and Fanny who is living a lie ­ deceiving Mary Crawford (against whose friendship she has a secret protection) and Henry Crawford (against whose courtship she has a secret protection).

Also, why do you think people resent Fanny because she doesn’t have Elizabeth’s sparkling personality?  I’m sure many who admire Elizabeth dislike Fanny ­ that is, they find her company dull, her inactivity enervating, and her headaches exasperating.  After all, many of us choose our friends (be they real or fictional) on the basis of their personalities, and prefer the company of lively, witty, intelligent, talkative companions.  That doesn’t mean we "resent" duller folk, it just means that we don’t enjoy their company.

Let’s face it.  Fanny doesn’t have a great deal of charm.  She can be contrasted in this respect not only with Elizabeth, but with Anne Eliot.  Like Fanny, Anne is often quiet and contemplative.  Unlike Fanny, Anne is sociable, and is valued and sought out (except by her older sister and father) wherever she goes.   We see her speak intelligently and entertainingly on a number of subjects.  We see her promote the enjoyment of her companions wherever she goes. Anne is sometimes grave, but never "threatening".  She is too kind.   If we could see as much kindliness in Fanny, we would doubtless like her better.

We are, I suppose, required to approve of people of good character, but we can choose to like people with winning personalities.

p.s to the board:  When I post here, my semi-colons and dashes often get deleted (for some reason).  If a sentence seems poorly punctuated, that’s why.  For some reason, writing about Jane Austen inspires sentences with semi-colons.

From the Meister: Dave managed to say in one paragraph what I tried and then failed to say in about ten full screens. Maybe you dealt with his use of "resentment" and maybe you did not. You certainly didn't deal with the most important word in his posting which is "threatening". I think that Jane Austen threatens much of the modern world and that is why there is such a rage to trivialize or bowdlerize her - or, to misunderstand her.

"Insincerity" and lying fall into the same category, simulations; Fanny lies only once: Sir Thomas asked her if she knew of any character flaw of Crawford's and she said no. On that same occasion, she did not correct Sir Thomas in his belief that she cannot have had feelings for Edmund. Otherwise, no one is more sincere - simulates less than Fanny.

It is true that your dashes and semicolons do not come through; I suggest you send your postings directly to me via e-mail - maybe that will help.


Dear Bruce,

What in the world are you writing about?

Fanny in no way is living a lie. Her visiting Mary Crawford is a matter of social behavior that is expected. It is the same type of "lie" that keeps me from strangling my boss at work when he says something completely idiotic. There is a thing called the Social Contract. None of us signed it. None of us were consulted about its clauses, but it is the one thing that keeps us from killing each other. One of the clauses is that we have to do things that we don't particularly enjoy. In Fanny's world the Social Contract was a lot stronger than it is today. People bore unpleasant tasks more stoically than they do today, which is a matter of some amazement because their lives were so much shorter. Fanny is a Christian. Fanny is a stoic. Fanny knows her duty and she does it. Elizabeth Bennet is a thoroughbred - sleek and quick. Fanny is a Grey Perchin who plods along every day pulling the plow of decency behind her. I love racehorses, but I realize that it was the draught horse that fed the country.

Mansfield Park is the most Christian of Our Dear Jane's novels. Fanny is probably the dullest of her heroines. But being a good and decent person is often dull work. And it is work. As much as I love Lizzie, I realize that she can be a little gossipy and a little catty. Fanny puts her shoulder to the wheel and does what has to be done.

In a sense, she is Sir Thomas' true daughter because she is the one who most reflects his values.

Where in the novel does it say that Fanny lusts after Edmund? She loves Edmund. Perhaps you are confusing the two words. Perhaps you are confusing her world with ours.


Dear Bruce,

I suspect that Jesus did not announce that the ostrich with the buried head was blessed. In fact, Jesus lived a life that indicated he would never have made such a thesis, quite the contrary; that is a factor that led to his crucifixion - his crucifixion then as now. Fanny Price is not that ostrich and that seems to disturb you very much. Why is that?

Fanny does show the kind of restraint you demand in one instance. When Sir Thomas closely questioned her about Henry Crawford, she preferred her patron's disapproval to making known to him what she knew of Crawford. It seems clear that she wished to protect Maria's reputation in that case. Ironically, had she been forthcoming then, some grief might have been prevented. To ask, as you do, that Fanny withhold from Edmund is preposterous to me; would you withhold such information from a lover? Why would you do such a thing? Or, in the other's situation, why would you blame the messenger?

You recently gave your overview of Mansfield Park, and, as you say yourself, you rambled. I suspect you ramble because you cannot bring yourself to admit that you find the novel and its author flawed; one simply cannot condemn Fanny and Edmund and then leave Jane Austen untouched.


Dear Ashton et. al.,

I’ll have you know that I am quite capable of incoherent rambling even on subjects about which I am quite decided!  I don’t think that Austen ever intended to write moral parables.  She wrote comic novels, and, as C.S. Lewis points out, whets the edge of her humor on standard, Christian morality.  However, I don’t think we can assume that she approved of everything that Fanny or Edmund did.

Edmund was not Fanny’s lover when she told him about Mary Crawford’s letter.  I don’t see anything wrong with her sharing the information with Edmund, but I find the entire conversation illustrative of Edmund’s (and to a lesser extent Fanny’s) blue nosed, judgmental, rude, and unforgiving nature, as I’ve pointed out in earlier posts.  Along with the time Ed bad-mouths Mary for a few jokes about "rears and vices", this conversation shows Edmund at his least attractive, and shows Fanny as putty waiting to be molded by her cousin.   (Since Ashton asks me what I would have done, I would have thought the letter funny (if in questionable taste), rather than evil.)

These scenes lead me to suspect that Fanny isn’t quite the objective observer and careful moral judge that she sometimes seems to be.  She is all too ready to condemn Mary, Henry, and Maria, but all too slow to see Edmund’s rudeness and lack of compassion.  I don’t want to be too harsh on Edmund  it is only natural that he thinks the grapes (Mary) that he cannot reach are sour.  It is part of Austen’s genius that she portrays even her heroes as prejudiced, bitter, and blind to their own faults, while practicing x-ray vision when looking at the faults of others. We can certainly condemn Fanny and Edmund yet see MP as a great novel ­ in fact, I do. (By "condemn" I mean "find lacking in certain ways")

This speaks to my earlier comments about whether Fanny is "pure of heart".  Another Austen ingenue (Catherine Morland) is pure of heart ­ the transparency of her loving and good natured heart is open for all to see.  Fanny’s heart, on the other hand, is tainted by a secret love, and I continue to think that this secret festers, and leaves its mark on her heart, and on her opinions.

John is certainly right that Lydia feels no shame.  That’s made quite clear in the novel.  I don’t think we really know Maria well enough to be sure, although John is probably right there, too.


Dear Bruce,

You say

"....  I don’t think that Austen ever intended to write moral parables. She wrote comic novels, and, as C.S. Lewis points out, whets the edge of her humor on standard, Christian morality.  However, I don’t think we can assume that she approved of everything that Fanny or Edmund did."

Austen's novels were satires. Like Swift's satires, they were intended to improve the readers through gentle ridicule. She chose not only to ridicule the Gothic novel but also to lead her readers to a better understanding of themselves. The novels were never intended to be mere joke marathons. And it is a large error to ignore Austen's fervent and well-understood Christianity in any approach to her novels.

"Edmund was not Fanny’s lover when she told him about Mary Crawford’s letter.  I don’t see anything wrong with her sharing the information with Edmund, but I find the entire conversation illustrative of Edmund’s (and to a lesser extent Fanny’s) blue nosed, judgmental, rude, and unforgiving nature, as I’ve pointed out in earlier posts.  Along with the time Ed bad-mouths Mary for a few jokes about 'rears and vices', this conversation shows Edmund at his least attractive, and shows Fanny as putty waiting to be molded by her cousin."

Fanny is putty in no one's hands. You think the better thing for Edmund to do is to condone an urgent sacrilegeous act. You mat as well say that it should be made illegal for anyone to attempt to prevent a robbery on the grounds that the robber might be hurt.

Anyone attempting to read English literature, excepting recent English literature must find themselves in the midst of a dense fog. It cannot be understood without knowledge of Christianity. I suggest that the Voices hie themselves off to read at least the New Testament. Read it in the King James (KJV) or an older Roman Catholic version in order to soak yourselves in the language that Jane Austen read. You will be doing yourselves a favour, too, since you all appear to love language. Then read the novels again. I think that you may be surprised.

End of sermon.

You go on...

"(Since Ashton asks me what I would have done, I would have thought the letter funny (if in questionable taste), rather than evil.)"

I cannot disagree that you should have found the letter funny, but I can doubt it. But that's not the point. The point is that you are not an Anglican priest. What you think about the letter is personal to you but it has no bearing on the novel. Your world may be a world without rules, but your world is not the world of Edmund and Fanny, Elizabeth, Anne, Catherine, Emma, and Elinor. They inhabit Jane Austen's world and their hopes and deeds must be seen as part of that world.

"These scenes lead me to suspect that Fanny isn’t quite the objective observer and careful moral judge that she sometimes seems to be.  She is all too ready to condemn Mary, Henry, and Maria, but all too slow to see Edmund’s rudeness and lack of compassion.  I don’t want to be too harsh on Edmund  it is only natural that he thinks the grapes (Mary) that he cannot reach are sour.  It is part of Austen’s genius that she portrays even her heroes as prejudiced, bitter, and blind to their own faults, while practicing x-ray vision when looking at the faults of others. We can certainly condemn Fanny and Edmund yet see MP as a great novel ­ in fact, I do. (By 'condemn' I mean 'find lacking in certain ways')"

What do you mean by saying that Mary was out of Edmund's reach? It is incomprehensible. Mary made it clear that she intended marriage with Edmund. Mary made her goal clear to Edmund and to Fanny. Jane Austen tells us that, having lost Edmund by her own action, Mary looks elsewhere for a husband, but he must be as fine a man as Edmund because her acquaintance with Edmund has spoiled her for lesser men. She hopes to meet another Edmund, but one who is not a clergyman--we are meant to smile that Mary has found her involvement with Edmund to be overpowering in a way that she did not foresee. Are there men as cultured and noble as Edmund outside the clergy? Well, there is Darcy, Captain Wentworth, and George Knightley.

"This speaks to my earlier comments about whether Fanny is 'pure of heart'.  Another Austen ingenue (Catherine Morland) is pure of heart ­ the transparency of her loving and good natured heart is open for all to see.  Fanny’s heart, on the other hand, is tainted by a secret love, and I continue to think that this secret festers, and leaves its mark on her heart, and on her opinions."

But Catherine does not know that her heart is open to be read by Elinor and  Henry. What is shameful about a secret love? Even Elizabeth Bennet kept her love for Darcy a secret even from her sister, Jane, and hid it so well that Jane could not believe that Lizzie's confession of her engagement to Darcy was not one of Lizzie's sometimes strange jokes. Anne's enduring love for Frederick was hidden from everyone.

Even in Dickens there is forgiveness of everyone (provided that a darned good dollop of punishment precedes the forgiveness.) In Jane Austen everyone is forgiven who seeks it or permits it. Maria Rushworth-Bertram is too filled with anger to ask forgiveness, and so never forgives herself, but her family does not continue to sentence her to damnation.


Dear Ashton,

Is it possible that Kenneth Branagh gets roles in films because he is the director of the films in which he appears?

As far as I know, Miss Le Touzel doesn't cast herself, and has to prove herself to get a role. What may be your problem with her is that, since she's primarily a stage actress, her style may be broader than the average film actress. After all, on the stage one has to play to the galleries.

From the Meister: It is true that the film actor must learn that less is much more. Failure to understand this made Olivier a terrible ham in his early film career, but he ended quit well - at times. The mystery is how can such a young person as our newest Tony winner, Jennifer Ehle, be as successful on the stage as on the screen? Maybe it was that southern cooking that nourished her as she was growing up. My point about Branagh is that someone, somewhere, is handing him a lot of money to do that nonsense - I suspect Iraq.

Dear Ashton,

Kenneth Branagh gets his money from people who want to make Art. He has convinced these people that he's misunderstood by the critics and the people, and that he is creating a body of work that will be vindicated in the future. All he has to do is mention the name Orson Welles (a con man if ever there was one) and they reach for their wallets.

As far as acting styles go, apparently you didn't grow up with Southern women. Half of them think they're Blanche DuBois playing in the Coliseum. For them, life is (or was) a melodrama in which they were the leading lady and they tear (or tore) into the scenery with Bacchanalian abandon.

I would almost suspect that Miss Le Touzel (she's going to have to start sending me some money for being her unofficial publicist) was directed to play Fanny as a stage role to reflect Fanny's unworldliness.

By the way, Branagh's best role was in Henry V (AKA The Spittin' King). Second was Much Ado About Nothing (featuring the adorable Kate Bickensale). After that, everything just kind of collapsed like a papier-mache mountain run over by a Peterbilt.

From the Meister: What you say about southern women is devastating to me. I always assumed they were all like Andie McDowell, Jennifer Ehle, Hollis, or Linda. Well - OK - so now, I choose to reject the truth. Henry V eh? What did you think of Branagh's rendition of Henry's harangue before the battle of Agincourt?

Dear BoardMeister,

A herald could not have been treated as Branagh treated the French Heralds. The king would have lost all honour.


Dear Herr Meister,

If you are referring to what is sometimes called the St. Crispin's Day speech (St. Crispin, by the bye, is the patron saint of shoemakers. I don't know why), Branagh's delivery is a little more pally than I would like. But, besides the spitting, it's not bad. Not rousing, but not warm fuzzy, either. At least he didn't deliver it as Alan Alda.

I looked up the reviews of LeTouzel's performance in the 1999 production of Coward's Hayfever. They were quite good. But I have to say that because I just got my first check from her as secondary publicist.



Links

Back to the Bulletin Board

Table of Contents

Index & Archive

References & Links

The Male-Voices Home Page