The Voices of Men in Praise
Of Jane Austen
Messages c.
June 14, 2002
9-11
Dear Linda,
Master and Commander is the very place to start, since it sets up many of the basics elements of the series. Many, but not all, for POB did not apparently have a strong belief that it would be a series, and so he did not establish certain story elements for the long haul, as we grizzled nautical authorial wannabe types would say.
But these are mere fleabite trivialities that may only appear in hindsight, if ever. As for starting out late in life, it sure beats never in life. I have been starting, researching, and abandoning novels since my teens, and have never reached finis in any of them, but I persist. (Some might say I should desist.) One very beneficial result of reading such fine stuff as JA and POB write, is that it convinces me to write in no voice but my own, however poor it may be. I actually did finish writing a book once, a laugh-filled, light-hearted look at the world of proposal writing. For some unfathomable reason, none of the publishers I queried saw any market for it. Go figure!
Dear Latest fAshton, Bruce and Cheryl,
MAD: now I remember that disillusioning moment of Elizabeth's. Also with all this input, I think I get the point of Wickham's assininity. Along with the optimistic Uncle Gardiner, I assumed this guy had (at least) his own welfare uppermost in his mind, but it seems he actually had very little mind.
Must take issue with Bruce. Come on, now! I don't think Col. Brandon was even 40 years old! What's all this talk about flannel and liniment, etc.? The man was obviously in his prime - he rode horseback big time, and if you think it's easy to get around every day by horse, try it buddy! (I'm older than Col. Brandon, and I know what I'm talking about!) How old are you anyway, 17?????? Sorry, I am grandmother and a bit touchy on the subject.
Mice-ter: sorry but re Elizabeth's secret thought at Pemberley, I agree with Cheryl. Mainly because at this point, Elizabeth had softened a lot toward Fitzbill, and I don't think was snotty enough to enjoy his sister's misfortunes. Possibly she just recalled that secret which Darcy had made her a party to, maybe even felt sorry for her. Although she didn't yet know what Wickham was up to with Lydia, she certainly knew of his shortcomings and probably felt like an idiot for having liked him.
Anyway I am really examining the minutiae of this situation to avoid the disgusting Laker celebrations going on. They are threatening a 4th championship next year, and if this should happen, I am THROUGH with the NBA. I am sure Mary WSC would agree with me. You all are a Godsend!
Dear Cheryl and Bree-mature Speculation,
It is true that Elizabeth's thought is described in such a cryptic way that one can rationally propose many interpretations other than the correct one. The one that the two of you support is plausible but might contain a fatal flaw—Elizabeth's thought comes at too early a time, about ten minutes too early in the story to support your proposal.
In fact, her thought arrives just before that sequence of events that will complete the transition of of Darcy's nature in her mind. It is just before the Gardiners and our heroine are astonished to hear the housekeeper praise her master. (Elizabeth is so astonished—and convinced—that she is psychologically prepared for that transforming moment when she stands before Darcy's portrait—stands there, goes away, and then returns to look again in order to renew the impression.)
All that comes later, but what is her state when she thinks, "except when she [Georgianna] goes to Ramsgate"? My first point is that Elizabeth has not yet even laid eyes on Georgianna, and for all she knows, Caroline Bingley's claim that Bingley might be in love with her is true. Also, she has testimony from Aunt Gardiner's friends and from Wickham that Miss Darcy is proud and vain. So, there is no reason for Elizabeth to be kindly disposed to Georgianna, quite the contrary. Elizabeth is still smarting from Darcy's admitted effort to detach Bingley from her sister. And, she cannot be completely reconciled to Darcy's castigation of her family's behavior; any little possibility to return that favor would have delighted a mind such as Elizabeth's (and such as mine too, if the truth be known.)
Here is an excerpt from Chapter 43 just before the remark in question: Elizabeth and the Gardiners are just entering the rooms at Pemberley, the entire party is impressed and Elizabeth thinks,
" ... 'With these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted! Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt.—But no,'—recollecting herself,—'that could never be: my uncle and aunt would have been lost to me; I should not have been allowed to invite them' "
"That was a lucky recollection—it saved her from something like regret."
A few minutes later, all will change and the kindness that the two of you would attribute to Elizabeth becomes a possibility.
Dear Re-hAshton
You make some good points, but let's remember here that Elizabeth might well be feeling some mortification because she HAS read the whole Darcy/Wickham history. She might even be feeling a sort of fellowship with Georgiana, because they both belong to the Duped-by-Wickham club. Of course she doesn't know that Lydia has joined it. But it is still open to question in my mind. If she could even entertain regret at not being mistress of Pemberley, she must have had some feelings about it, Darcy and the whole family which were not negative.
Dear Bree,
Colonel Brandon was (I believe) 18 years older than Marianne, which means that, although during the action of the novel he was younger than I am, during my little scenario set 15 years after their marriage, he was older than I am.
However, it isn’t really his age I object to. It’s his personality. The problem with creating a character that the other characters don’t value is that the readers may agree with the other characters. I believe Austen tried to make Brandon a brooding, romantic figure. I also believe that he was one of her few failures.
Nobody can doubt that Brandon is a good man, standing soberly opposed to the gay and irresponsible Willoughby. However, both Austen’s descriptions of him and his (few) on stage appearances make him seem unattractive, inactive, and dull. A quick glance through the text reveals these adjectives: gravity, reserve, serious and mild manners, gloominess of temper, dull, melancholy, despondent.
Here’s how Willoughby describes him: "Brandon is just the kind of man ... whom everybody speaks well of and nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody remembers to talk to ..."
Marianne adds, "He has neither genius, nor taste, nor spirit ... ."
Elinor’s defense is weak, he is proclaimed, "a sensible man, well-bred, of gentle address, and I believe, an amiable heart ..."
Of course this is the same scene when Marianne complains that Brandon "talked of flannel waistcoats." Why did Brandon talk about rheumatism and flannel waistcoats? Does a 35 year old man have no idea whatsoever how to talk around a romantic girl of 17, whom he wishes to court?
Worse, Brandon never has a single on-stage scene in which he appears witty, or agile of mind, or fun to hang out with. His very duel (his one romantic act) appears to have been conducted on the basis of gloomy and disagreeable duty, rather than passion or honour.
With Willoughby out of the way, what does Brandon do? "(He) was with them every day; he came to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor."
Faint heart ne’er won fair lady except, apparently, in the case of the good Colonel. That he is a kind, moral man I can accept. I can even admire him for it. But, like Willoughby, I would prefer to spend my time in more active and entertaining company. Although Austen CLAIMS that his spirits are "restored" by his marriage, I don’t believe her. Here’s a man who lacks the spirit to actively court his future wife, who mopes his way through the novel, and who is basically given Marianne as a reward for being kind and rich (if not attractive).
I have no objection to Kinghtley (who is older than Brandon). He shares some of Brandon’s qualities he is a mild, mature gentleman. However, he also shows wit and intelligence, qualities which, if Brandon has them at all, remain concealed from the reader.
Dear Bruce,
Did you see the BBC version of Sense and Sensibility, starring Gabriel Byrne as Col. Brandon? It might cast a different light on things! Also, if much of the colonel's low spirits and repression came from his prior life experiences, isn't it possible that marriage to a woman he loves, though young, could rejuvenate him? Just a suggestion ...
Dear Bree,
I did see the BBC adaptation, years ago, and I don’t remember it very well. I suppose it’s possible to think that Brandon can change, as Austen herself says he does, but in my experience, once a wet blanket, always a wet blanket. I suppose in part I resent Brandon because I admire the young, romantic Marianne (while admitting her many faults). I’m not sure I want her to change to the point where she decides to marry a man she doesn’t love. That seems to be throwing out the baby with the bath. I don’t think that any of Austen’s other heroines would submit to such a marriage, nor should they.
Neither do I admire Brandon for submitting to such a marriage. He is, after all, twice Marianne’s age, and should show some responsibility toward her. He is portrayed as a romantic (at least that’s his only excuse for being melancholy and dull). So what’s he doing marrying a girl half his age who doesn’t love him? Is his love so selfish, or lust so strong that he has forsaken all of his own romantic sensibilities?
Further, Brandon seems particularly unmanly in his wooing of Marianne a courtship that consists of befriending her mother and sister, and staring longingly at her. A masculine man of honor should try to win his beloved’s heart and failing that, he should ride off into the sunset to play wet blanket at somebody else’s party. Instead, Brandon fails to show the openness and directness that Austen admires in other heroes. He wheedles his way into Marianne’s family, afraid (as well he should be, I suppose, given Marianne’s distaste for him) to approach her directly.
All of this might be forgivable in a very young man. But for a man twice Marianne’s age to refuse to court her and to court her family instead is distasteful to modern sensibilities, at least. It seems to me that it is also distasteful to the sensibilities Austen demonstrates in all of her other novels.
Dear [Bruce?],
In an earlier post you quoted JA as narrating: "Marianne could never love by halves; and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, as it had once been to Willoughby."
But you keep flailing at Brandon for marrying a woman who doesn't love him and at Marianne for marrying a man she doesn't love. I just don't understand why you dislike the story as JA told it. Remember, that the younger, foolish Marianne railed at Elinor for simply using words like "esteem" with regard to Edward. I thought that one of JA's points in the book was to show that Marianne had finally learned how to value Colonel B. in the way the Elinor had valued Edward Ferrars. And that kind of regard was the basis for later, deeper feelings by both heroines.
I also wish to defend Colonel B. for ingratiating himself with the other Dashwoods instead of courting Marianne himself. IMHO, this is simply good manners: the old "Gentleman-like manner." During her infatuation with W., B. simply was wallpaper to M. So any attempt at genteel courtship was impossible: she was always off with W. So he was friendly and attentive with Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor. That was friendhip and manners.
JA glosses over the means by which M. came to find and value the goodness in Colonel B. It simply grew into affection and later ripened into love, as you quoted yourself. I personally find much more to admire in Colonel Brandon's conduct throughout the novel than Marianne's.
Dear (Occasionally) Male Voices,
I have to intrude a slight demurrer to the growing egg-in-the-shoe sneers at Hugh Grant's Edward Ferrars walk. In the early parts of the film, I seem to recall that HG's/EF simply walked about and made entrances in a fairly normal manner - for who he was. EF was not a bold confident man, one reason why he was such a disappointment to his mother, who wanted him to take up a career that was unsuited to his quiet personality.
In those early scenes at Norland, he walked like a quiet, self-effacing man. Look at him duelling with Margaret. Look at him while playfully discussing the route and source of the Nile in the library. No Egg toes, simply a quiet man not given to stomping his way into a room.
I believe that the eggs-in-the-shoes scenes referred to were ones in which HG's/EF was unsure of himself or feeling awkward at intruding where he might be unwelcome. Gawd, to find Lucy and Elinor in the same room! To be visiting the Dashwood ladies, when all likely hope of ever achieving Elinor was gone after the knowledge of the secret engagement and his disinheritance. I'm sure that you have heard the expression "walking on eggshells." I think that HG's/EF was figuratively doing just that, and I don't think that it was at all a poor expression of his character amd circumstances at those moments. I would venture to say that had we seen Mr. Bingley walking into the room to face the Bennet women and hoping for a chance to press his suit with Jane, we might a have seen a bit of eggshell tiptoeing. But the scene began with him sitting and facing the feminine gauntlet. He certainly slipped out to break with Mr. Bennet rather quietly. And Bingley was a much more positive and RELATIVELY self-assured man than poor HG's/EF.
Does this sound reasonable?
Well, we know he gave up a fortune rather than break a youthful pledge that he no longer personally valued. Shows some integrity. We know that he came all the way out to the Dashwood's country cottage hat in hand, heart on sleeve, out of a faint hope that Elinor (Sense) might still have some sensibility towards him. Shows some tenacity. (Also shows he really didn't follow the romantic literature. Read the title, man!)
Dear D.J.,
I started the "egg in the shoe" thing and Bree took that up recently. However, we were not speaking figuratively nor were we referring to Edward Ferrars. We were speaking literally about the way Hugh Grant was walking about—his head bowed and on tip-toe, not seeming to set his heels down on an imaginary egg. (Incidentally, I made the same criticism of Allan Rickman in the role of Colonel Brandon.) This is more likely a criticism of Ang Lee, the director of the Emma Thompson film. Lee did an excellent job on his justly famous Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but his directions to Regency-era English characters made an unintended comical effect. I mean, it amused me to see Jane Austen's gentlemen walking about like cowed, Chinese peasants.
Dear D.J.,
Well, yeah let's do that. In fact, there seems to be an interest building in the community. Here are links to recent posts scattered about the board:
| Ashton 6/10
Bree 6/12 Bree 6/15 |
Bree 6/13
Bruce 6/13 Bree 6/15 Bruce 6/18 |
I suggest that we restrict attention to the novel.
I suppose that every married man has met a woman; the conversation proceeded; and, she eventually asked, "are you married?" A sure sign that he already has done something not quite right. We needn't apologize too much—the same sort of thing happens to married women—and always has. This is the reason that we have marriage vows. There is a lot of individuality on how that question is dealt with, and what events ensue.
Let us consider Edward Ferrars in that light. He is not married and Elinor did not ask him if he were engaged; but, is not the situation similar in an important way? Like my hypothetical married man, does not Edward lead Elinor on in our species' dance of love? He cannot be unaware of her growing feelings, but he cannot bring himself to warn her just as he cannot not break it off with Lucy. He is faced with the same moral dilemma that all married folks face when something sweet comes along. For me, he does not behave well enough—far better than Willoughby, but not well enough. I know—we all know—Jane Austen knew how difficult this situation is. But, it is in precisely those situations that a person's character will manifest. I give Edward a D-, what say you?
My own grades? Well, my grades varied with some lower than others.
Dear Daghda Jim,
You have taken this "bon mot" of Ashton's into the realm of psychology, which is certainly an interesting pursuit! However, I saw Hugh Grant "egg walking" several times, even out in the countryside with Eleanor Sense and with the youngest sister, Margaret, when Lucy wasn't even around! I think Hugh Grant interpreted his character that way, or maybe it was inadvertent, but I think the Meister hit the nail on the head! It was just a joke! I thought HG did a pretty good job overall with Ferrars, certainly better than his idiotic work in Bridget Jones' Diary.
Dear DAGHDA Jim, et.al.,
As for the question of Hugh Grant in S&S; the answer is quite simple. He SHOULD have been cast as Willoughby. For one thing, Hugh is about 10 time handsomer and more charming than the actor chosen...I frankly don't think he can turn down the charm even when he tries, and his charm is what makes Willoughby so dangerous to Marianne—everyone is taken in by him, including Elinor.
As for Alan Rickman, after his brilliant turns in Galaxy Quest and
Harry Potter I refuse to hear a bad word about him. The man
squeezed more hilarity out of his 3 minutes of screen time in Harry
Potter than Adam Sandler and Mike Myers have together in a dozen films (I've
never actually made it past the first scene of Austin Powers.) I
guess it never occurred to Ang Lee to let everyone walk normally then let
the sound editing crew do its work.
Cheryl
Dear Bree and, Cheryl,
Ok, Ok, Being unable to view the film itself until - I dunno, I have to defer to sharper eyes and better memories. My memory was that HG "eggwalked," if ever, about as many times as J. Ehle burst into tears in P&P, which was discussed a while back. I thought he was just trying to walk quietly, which might include the occasional tippy toe, but does bring down the heel.
Posting in this forum is proving to be no cakewalk, either.
But as for HG as Willoughby, I'm sorry, but I don't see it. Charming he is, no doubt, but not dashing. Willoughby has to be dashing and bold, to my mind. HG is a better actor all-around than many people will credit, but he is physically and in personality better suited to the subtle than to the larger-than-life, IMHO.
As for Rickman, the man's an acting marvel. Most people first saw him as Hans, the villain in Die Hard. Then he was the Sheriff of Rott- - er, Nottingham in the Costner Robin Hood. Yet I was amazed to see him in Truly, Madly, Deeply (those words in some order)as a very sensitive but mostly dead husband. (There's never a Miracle Max around when you need one). I thought his Colonel Brandon was excellent.
And as for Marianne getting what she deserved, well, what she probably deserved after all those histrionics was Wickham redux. Or Mr. Collins' stupider brother.
Dear MADly,
I agree we really don't know much about Edward Ferrars, except that as a youngster he was beguiled by that conniving Lucy. What I think might be somewhat detrimental to his marriage with Eleanor (who is the Sense in S&S) is, if we are to take Emma Thompson's film as reliable), his strange characteristic of walking sideways with "an egg in his shoe." Do you agree?
Dear DAGHDA Jim, et.al.,
Referring, again to Mr. Kipling's Army, (which is slightly later than JA's era,) I'd say that an American officer with the cash and manners could have gotten into any regiment that would have accepted Wickham. The officers' corps were run on the lines of men's clubs and some were more exclusive than others. Col. Fitzwilliam, the younger son of an Earl could have gotten into the Coldstream Guards, if he had the bucks, but Mr. Darcy might have had a bit more trouble.
Wickham is no doubt anxious to get into a decent regiment in the hopes of
grabbing up as many quango's as possible, and possibly some loot, that being one
way for a poor, but "honest" gentleman to make his fortune. It would be
interesting to find a list of the "regimental silver" of the British Army.
I know it contains such things as a punchbowl which was originally Napoleon's
chamber pot and a nut dish made out of Wellington's horse's hoof.
Cheryl
Dear MADness,
I have searched high and low for Justine Waddell version of Tess. Almost all of the videos I find are the one with Natasha Kinski. Where might I find the former?
Dear Bree-paid Dis-interest,
If you ever find that video, you are going to thank me profusely. Here is a link to the commercial data. Save yourself some time and buy it, you will want to do that in any case—believe me.
Natasha Kinski! They might as well have cast her as Fanny Price!
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