Sherwood’s review of Mansfield Park > Likes and Comments
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Austen says that if Edmund had married Mary, Fanny would have married Henry. I think that might have been the making of Henry--and it would have been an adult love for Fanny, who has that girlish crush on her cousin.
But I think it the worst ending because the rest of the book is so brilliantly shown, then Austen shoves the action off stage, and has her narrator lecture the reader on what happened next, right down to E and F falling in love "after the right amount of time" without showing us a smidge of it.
Sherwood wrote: "Austen says that if Edmund had married Mary, Fanny would have married Henry. I think that might have been the making of Henry--and it would have been an adult love for Fanny, who has that girlish c..."
It's been so long since I read it ... and it's my least favorite Austen so it doesn't get re-read much. Everything ends up so safe. I wonder if Austen was unexcited about F & E and just did the hand-waving instead of showing.
I don't think so--the rest of the novel is so brilliantly done, and she get so deeply into the characters. I suspect that she was too reticent to show Mary and Henry running off, but kept that at a respectable remove. (Like she did Lydia and Wickham, but in that case, they were side characters, so we never needed to see them)
Yes, that would have been to sordid to detail, I suppose.
Now I want to read an alternate ending where Edmund marries Mary and Fanny marries Henry.
The only Austen novel I've never gotten around to reading, but I'm familiar with the plot. Very fascinating thoughts on it! Nineteenth century novels leave open some very interesting "what might have beens" (Like, for example, The Woman in White, in which some buried plot suggestions were teased out when it was made into a musical by Andrew Lloyd Weber)
Lee Anne wrote: "The only Austen novel I've never gotten around to reading, but I'm familiar with the plot. Very fascinating thoughts on it! Nineteenth century novels leave open some very interesting "what might h..."
Oh yes, good point!
I want to eat this review, or have it to lunch. Brill.
I have never gotten around to Mansfield Park, although I have a pretty good idea of what goes on in it, and your lovely review has taken that farther, thanks. From what you have said, I don't get the feeling that Austen became impatient with her characters, and decided to end it. It could have taken, what, at least 60 pages and another dozen scenes to get her characters to the Alternate Ending?
You do make me wonder about a couple of things. Austen might have felt that after showing how young people get themselves into bad places, one step at a time, she felt she must show them making the choices those paths had carried them toward. From where we look, they might be bad choices -- Fanny choosing Edmund, for example -- but in Fanny's case, choosing a husband was one of the few choices she actually could have a say in. She had no parents to pressure her into a choice, correct?
Edmund was both a minister and someone who presents as an intelligent, moral and not unkind person. He has or will have a living, and can support a wife and children comfortably, if not with every bell and whistle. The odds are, he will be good to Fanny, and come to love her after they share children and a life together, even though he will still carry a torch for the idealized Mary of his heart, unless something about Mary later jars that image loose from him.
At the time, the smart choice for both of them will be each other. They will probably not have a passionate marriage, unless they are very lucky, but they will respect and support each other. It's more than many people of the time find, and many would see it as the intelligent choice -- a choice that many, most, would make if in that position. (Not the Romantic choice, though.) The immature Henry, at this point, would be a very risky choice as a husband. And he hasn't asked Fanny, has he? Has never asked anyone, apparently.
There is also the possibility that something Austen has watched recently, or thought long about, made her decide that waiting for someone to grow up can only be done for so long -- then someone should make the sensible choice. She sugar coats that by saying that, after a reasonable time, they fall in love with each other. But this may be Austen wanting Fanny to make a choice that has a better chance of long term happiness and comfort than the other choice might hold.
I don't know enough about her own life to know if Austen could be regretting turning down her suitor -- is this post her refusal? -- but I cannot read your review of Fanny's life without wondering if her own life, in the twilight zone and on the edge, might have lasted longer if she had better nourishment in her youth, and had married someone who could have kept her comfortable. Of course, she might have died young in childbed.
At any rate, clearly I must gt around to Mansfield Park! Thank you!
We should probably come back to this discussion after you've had a chance to read it--too many impressions you've picked up are not in the text. (fanny does have parents, and Henry is not immature, he's morally suspect, for example.) Thank you for replying! I'd love to discuss this further after you get that chance to read it.
I'll keep an eye out at Half Price Books for a copy. ;^)
I love every word of this review/essay! The only thing that still niggles about the book to which you haven't reconciled me is the play. Given Fanny's feeling that it was wrong, then of course her behaviour was admirable, but I'm not totally sure why she thought it was wrong. As it is true that the Austen family put on plays within their family themselves (right?), it seems odd that her stance is so firm. Can totally see it from Sir Thomas's point of view, once you've pointed it out, but that isn't the important perspective to the book, is it?
Hallie wrote: "I love every word of this review/essay! The only thing that still niggles about the book to which you haven't reconciled me is the play. Given Fanny's feeling that it was wrong, then of course he..."
It wasn't respectful to Sir Thomas. I think that it's something so alien to us now it's nearly impossible to see, but it's a matter of what they called delicacy. Sir Thomas is away on a dangerous journey, which means the family ought not to be whooping it up while he's gone, as if his being gone doesn't matter. It's the same thing as not having parties the six months after a relative dies, even if it wasn't a relative you loved. Delicacy.
Sherwood wrote: "Sir Thomas is away on a dangerous journey, which means the family ought not to be whooping it up while he's gone, as if his being gone doesn't matter"
I think that's a really important point.
Yes, the delicacy I get. I'd forgotten that extent to which it was clear that the journey was dangerous and with that in place, it makes perfect sense that they oughtn't be whooping it up, as you said. "With Sir Thomas gone" is readable in two entirely different ways, and I was thinking more along the lines of "as Sir Thomas isn't here to tell us it's wrong, I have to decide it's wrong for myself".
Just as a minor data point for how this isn't quite as foreign to our thinking as it might seem, my mother went into mourning dress when my dad died - black for a good while and then moving to lavender.
Hallie wrote: "Yes, the delicacy I get. I'd forgotten that extent to which it was clear that the journey was dangerous and with that in place, it makes perfect sense that they oughtn't be whooping it up, as you ..."
Did she also curtail certain activities? It took me a very long time to figure out this whole play thing, because Austen gives us just a clue or two that Fanny actually has the feelings and the rest of the family knows the lip-service version but ignores it, safe in the knowledge that they aren't entertaining anyway. (And then Tom is ready to invite the entire countryside.)
Anyway, it took a lot of reading of letters of the period, and journals, to figure out what was going on because it was one of those things that Austen assumes everyone knows--like what everyone was wearing.
Sherwood wrote: Did she also curtail certain activities?
I wouldn't think so, but she'd been living alone with my dad, worrying about him, when he died, and I'd been with my grandparents in Annapolis. I don't think she wanted to do much frivolling anyway!
I'm glad you did the figuring-out for the rest of it, Sherwood! I'll be writing about it at some point, but one of the books I read for the history project is a recent book about a cousin of Jane Austen's, who goes to live with the Austen family. The author obviously did lots of research into the family, but has them rehearsing for a play they're going to put on on a Sunday morning, before church. (Also traveling on a Sunday, but I'm not quite so sure about that one in the circumstances.) Heck, there are quite a few members of our congregation (liberal Anglican) who generally avoid grocery shopping on a Sunday now! But writing at the time, as you say, you don't point out the universally understood. Fascinating.
Traveling on Sunday? That would have been as bad a no no as rehearsing a play on Sunday.
Sherwood wrote: "Traveling on Sunday? That would have been as bad a no no as rehearsing a play on Sunday."
The character didn't start his journey on a Sunday, and there may have been some indication that he got caught with no alternative but to continue it overnight, arriving very early on Sunday. I don't remember the exact reason that I thought it might have been partially excused, but the rehearsing before church followed immediately after and that was written in a way that actually maximized its wrongness so really stuck out for me.
@Hallie
I think one has to read the play to understand some of the underlying tensions it would bring out. The scene Maria and Henry have with one another (though they do play mother and son) gives them the opportunity to get quite intimate with one another (with a hug and a kiss)--which would be seen as inappropriate for an engaged woman to be partaking in with a man who wasn't her intended. Which is why Julia and Maria fight for the part, as whoever plays the mother gets to be in that particular scene with Henry. So essentially the play becomes an excuse for the two sisters to try and find some "legitimate" way to break some taboos. And the fact that Maria is doing that in addition to being engaged makes it all the more twisted.
To me it's not that "plays are bad", it's more how the play is used as an excuse to "not so innocently" skirt around some societal taboos. A good way to think about it would be to think of Maria as trying to use the play as a legitimate reason to cheat on Mr. Rushworth. Add into that that the family is doing this while Sir Thomas is on a perilous trip as Sherwood mentions and the "wrong" meter goes up a whole load of notches.
I remember reading the end, and loving it! I was practically bouncing and squeling of joy! I'd loved Edmund troughout the book, hating him in some parts, yes, but always knowing who were right for each other. I don't feel like he chose next best, I really believe that he understood Mary Crawford's ugly persona, and discovered Fanny, which he could not see beneath Mary's "glittering and blinding" personality. I loved it, reading it for the first time at the age of fourteen, and I still love it dearly.
At the back of one of the Chapman editions of the novels, included is a set of notes that Jane Austen wrote down. She describes the reactions of various readers as reported to her. It's interesting to see the variety: some, like you, felt the ending was just right; others felt it ought to be right, but seem to have been ambivalent; and in her nephew's memoir about her, he records that Cassandra begged for a different ending. But Jane was adamant. Today, there is just such a variety!
And yet, it seems that if authors change the ending at someone else's request, they always seem to regret it. I'm thinking mostly of Thomas Hardy's "Return of the Native," and Agatha Christie's "Death Comes as the End." That second one is particularly maddening, because I can't find anywhere what exactly she changed about the ending (and later regretted)or figure out how drastic a change it was.
I love your review...well supported and you almost convinced that Fanny would have been better off with Henry.
I gather Cassandra thought so!
Thank you.
Thanks! You answered all the historical questions I was wondering about.
E.S. wrote: "Thanks! You answered all the historical questions I was wondering about."
Thanks for reading!
Great review. I've read all of Austen's books except this one. I plan on tackling it this year though.
Kay wrote: "Great review. I've read all of Austen's books except this one. I plan on tackling it this year though."
Thanks. You are in for a treat!
Angela wrote: "Wow, your review is great. I'm really glad I stumbled on it."
Thank you!
As seen in my review, I loved this book. But I will agree about the ending. That is the heavy handed morality tale that made it a tarnished five star, rather than a pure one. I don't really agree about Henry. Yes Edmund and Fanny seem sort of forced, but I don't think she could have really fixed Henry. She might have eventually loved him, and he definitely loved and respected her, but she would never have gotten the fidelity she would want, the genuine constancy he promises (although he would improve with time, given that he already had).
I can see your interpretation. He's such a complex character (well, they all are, though some more than others), supporting differing views. I do wish that Austen had SHOWN us her ending, rather than told us, though!
I totally am with you about being shown the ending. Usually she is very good about that, so I don't know what was up with Mansfield Park
I suspect the problem was one of delicacy as far as Henry's fall is concerned. She wasn't going to show us Henry and Maria running off (indicating a sea change between the writing of Lady Susan and Mansfield Park) but it's interesting that she doesn't show us Edward and Fanny falling in love. Just tells us. Which is why I think even her own beloved sister Cassandra begged her for another ending (according to family history).
Fascinating review, Sherwood. I had to read the entire comment thread after I finished it. :) You've given me a lot of food for thought. I think my views of this book have been influenced too much by seeing the film(s) afterwards, so I will definitely have to tackle this one again sometime soon. Sense and Sensibility will come first, though!
I agree with you for the play comment, and I myself wouldn't want to come back home to see my room with the furniture all moved and with junk (as it would feel like) put inside it!
For the cousins marrying, I was confused since Sir Thomas didn't want the "cousins falling in love" as mentioned at the beginning of the book, so I thought that meant cousin marriage is incestuous in Sir Thomas's opinion too. Yet at the end of the book, Sir Thomas was perfectly happy to let the two cousins marry!
Cool, I read Jane Austen's collection of different acquaintances' (and friends and family members') opinions too and there is indeed so much variety! I personally love Fanny and Edmund but hate Mary and Henry Crawford, but that could partly be due to my own personality and experiences. Much of my childhood was lonely and almost friendless, so I could really relate to Fanny always being left out and feeling inferior to everyone else. Also, it's interesting how a lot of readers dislike Fanny and Edmund for being moral prudes...while I actually like them for having such strong morals. But maybe I'm a moral prude myself, so that's why I didn't see anything wrong with that, haha.
This is the only one of Austen's books that I haven't read. I made it half way through and then gave up on it. I think Austen, in trying to write a novel with an obvious moral tone, hampered herself too much in terms of building her story. Based on your description, I wonder if she started to like Henry too much and had to rein herself in to give the book the moral ending that she wanted. That might explain the difference in tone at the end of the book.
I find it interesting that so many cry out against Edmund and Fanny, because they're cousins; but I don't hear anyone crying out against Lady Katherine's intentions for her daughter Anne and Mr. Darcy--perhaps it's because they didn't marry; but there's also Henrietta Musgrove and her cousin, Charles Hayter. It was a thing that was done, as has already been stated--Jane seemed to think nothing of it. I believe Sir Thomas's fear was of suspicion: that his neighbors would think he had adopted Fanny with the motive of raising her for one of his sons to marry (see the end of the ball, where "it would have been plain to any looker-on that Sir Thomas had not been bringing up a wife for her younger son").
That said, this is an excellent review--it leaves me feeling that to write one of my own would be unnecessary.
*his younger son
I should've proofread better.
I suspect that many who cry out against it are objecting to the cousinship marriage for a romantic hero. Nobody thinks that Mr. Darcy will actually marry poor Anne de Bourgh, and Henrietta and Charles Hayter are secondary characters in whose romantic lives readers are not invested. It's different for Fanny and Edmund.
I just started reading Emma. Decided to look at the synopsis for the other Austen books. Found your lengthy review. I was very glad at how you started it bc it gave me the idea without giving away the full story. I had made the decision to read it and stopped reading so as to not "ruin" the story for me. Thank you for your review. ☺️
Samantha wrote: "I just started reading Emma. Decided to look at the synopsis for the other Austen books. Found your lengthy review. I was very glad at how you started it bc it gave me the idea without giving away ..."
I'm glad you found it useful!
Glad for the review and the comments. A few items to clarify. Morality, moderation and self-governance should always be remembered as the true north in this novel, which is why Fanny is our heroine. Yes, sickly and shy and rather a kicked-puppy, her views and decisions are always guided by what is socially acceptable and appropriate for the situation, environment and persons involved. The play was inappropriate not because of Sir Thomas' absence and peril, nor for the spending of his finances while absence for mere frivolity and entertainment. The play was inappropriate because of the way the classes partook of plays, in some circles referred to as "spectacles". Only the lower classes took part in acting because the heightened drama was not seen as an appropriate display of emotion from the higher classes. Some of the higher classes WOULD ATTEND plays, leaving room for societal whispers about who attended the "vulgar shows" (meaning common, not lewd), how often they attended, which plays were viewed (as some were less morally reprehensible than others). But as far as ACTING, those with position only partook with the understanding whispers would be spread of the scandal in them exposing themselves to such vulgar amusements. The play decided upon was considered particularly salacious, and no young woman of any moral fiber or standing would have partaken, even in private. The error in judgment was then further compounded when the audience was extended beyond the immediate household. Sir Thomas' two purportedly moral, modest, self-governed, well-stationed daughters taking part in a particularly salacious selection of a vulgar entertainment while their moral, self-governed, highly respected father was out of the country, and exposing this egregious moral failure to the twitterings of the servants, neighbors and the like...and that not one, but BOTH of their elder brothers not only permitted this immoral indulgence, but ENCOURAGED it by participating likewise...you begin to get the picture. As to the charge of Sir Thomas not wanting the cousins to fall in love because it was incestuous, I think others have already established that was acceptable in the time. I would propose his consideration came from self-preservation of the family respect and inheritance. Fanny was a lesser cousin. They were being rather charitable in allowing her to come under their protection and upbringing, and in doing so, they increased their reputation with no cost other than pittance money. For her to MARRY into their household, however, would certainly exalt her even higher, but would inevitably cause the family to loose some of their esteem and reputation. Modern readers tend to consider such Cinderella stories only from the view point of the exalted Cinderella, but in the reality of nobility and classes Cinderella stories don't happen without the prince and the royal family being lowered in the perception of their aristocracy.
The theater was very popular in England at the time, all classes attended. Also, Austen's family participated in home theatricals. The problem was appropriateness given the father's situation.
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Austen says that if Edmund had married Mary, Fanny would have married Henry. I think that might have been the making of Henry--and it would have been an adult love for Fanny, who has that girlish crush on her cousin.But I think it the worst ending because the rest of the book is so brilliantly shown, then Austen shoves the action off stage, and has her narrator lecture the reader on what happened next, right down to E and F falling in love "after the right amount of time" without showing us a smidge of it.
Sherwood wrote: "Austen says that if Edmund had married Mary, Fanny would have married Henry. I think that might have been the making of Henry--and it would have been an adult love for Fanny, who has that girlish c..."It's been so long since I read it ... and it's my least favorite Austen so it doesn't get re-read much. Everything ends up so safe. I wonder if Austen was unexcited about F & E and just did the hand-waving instead of showing.
I don't think so--the rest of the novel is so brilliantly done, and she get so deeply into the characters. I suspect that she was too reticent to show Mary and Henry running off, but kept that at a respectable remove. (Like she did Lydia and Wickham, but in that case, they were side characters, so we never needed to see them)
Yes, that would have been to sordid to detail, I suppose.Now I want to read an alternate ending where Edmund marries Mary and Fanny marries Henry.
The only Austen novel I've never gotten around to reading, but I'm familiar with the plot. Very fascinating thoughts on it! Nineteenth century novels leave open some very interesting "what might have beens" (Like, for example, The Woman in White, in which some buried plot suggestions were teased out when it was made into a musical by Andrew Lloyd Weber)
Lee Anne wrote: "The only Austen novel I've never gotten around to reading, but I'm familiar with the plot. Very fascinating thoughts on it! Nineteenth century novels leave open some very interesting "what might h..."Oh yes, good point!
I want to eat this review, or have it to lunch. Brill.
I have never gotten around to Mansfield Park, although I have a pretty good idea of what goes on in it, and your lovely review has taken that farther, thanks. From what you have said, I don't get the feeling that Austen became impatient with her characters, and decided to end it. It could have taken, what, at least 60 pages and another dozen scenes to get her characters to the Alternate Ending?You do make me wonder about a couple of things. Austen might have felt that after showing how young people get themselves into bad places, one step at a time, she felt she must show them making the choices those paths had carried them toward. From where we look, they might be bad choices -- Fanny choosing Edmund, for example -- but in Fanny's case, choosing a husband was one of the few choices she actually could have a say in. She had no parents to pressure her into a choice, correct?
Edmund was both a minister and someone who presents as an intelligent, moral and not unkind person. He has or will have a living, and can support a wife and children comfortably, if not with every bell and whistle. The odds are, he will be good to Fanny, and come to love her after they share children and a life together, even though he will still carry a torch for the idealized Mary of his heart, unless something about Mary later jars that image loose from him.
At the time, the smart choice for both of them will be each other. They will probably not have a passionate marriage, unless they are very lucky, but they will respect and support each other. It's more than many people of the time find, and many would see it as the intelligent choice -- a choice that many, most, would make if in that position. (Not the Romantic choice, though.) The immature Henry, at this point, would be a very risky choice as a husband. And he hasn't asked Fanny, has he? Has never asked anyone, apparently.
There is also the possibility that something Austen has watched recently, or thought long about, made her decide that waiting for someone to grow up can only be done for so long -- then someone should make the sensible choice. She sugar coats that by saying that, after a reasonable time, they fall in love with each other. But this may be Austen wanting Fanny to make a choice that has a better chance of long term happiness and comfort than the other choice might hold.
I don't know enough about her own life to know if Austen could be regretting turning down her suitor -- is this post her refusal? -- but I cannot read your review of Fanny's life without wondering if her own life, in the twilight zone and on the edge, might have lasted longer if she had better nourishment in her youth, and had married someone who could have kept her comfortable. Of course, she might have died young in childbed.
At any rate, clearly I must gt around to Mansfield Park! Thank you!
We should probably come back to this discussion after you've had a chance to read it--too many impressions you've picked up are not in the text. (fanny does have parents, and Henry is not immature, he's morally suspect, for example.) Thank you for replying! I'd love to discuss this further after you get that chance to read it.
I'll keep an eye out at Half Price Books for a copy. ;^)
I love every word of this review/essay! The only thing that still niggles about the book to which you haven't reconciled me is the play. Given Fanny's feeling that it was wrong, then of course her behaviour was admirable, but I'm not totally sure why she thought it was wrong. As it is true that the Austen family put on plays within their family themselves (right?), it seems odd that her stance is so firm. Can totally see it from Sir Thomas's point of view, once you've pointed it out, but that isn't the important perspective to the book, is it?
Hallie wrote: "I love every word of this review/essay! The only thing that still niggles about the book to which you haven't reconciled me is the play. Given Fanny's feeling that it was wrong, then of course he..."It wasn't respectful to Sir Thomas. I think that it's something so alien to us now it's nearly impossible to see, but it's a matter of what they called delicacy. Sir Thomas is away on a dangerous journey, which means the family ought not to be whooping it up while he's gone, as if his being gone doesn't matter. It's the same thing as not having parties the six months after a relative dies, even if it wasn't a relative you loved. Delicacy.
Sherwood wrote: "Sir Thomas is away on a dangerous journey, which means the family ought not to be whooping it up while he's gone, as if his being gone doesn't matter"I think that's a really important point.
Yes, the delicacy I get. I'd forgotten that extent to which it was clear that the journey was dangerous and with that in place, it makes perfect sense that they oughtn't be whooping it up, as you said. "With Sir Thomas gone" is readable in two entirely different ways, and I was thinking more along the lines of "as Sir Thomas isn't here to tell us it's wrong, I have to decide it's wrong for myself". Just as a minor data point for how this isn't quite as foreign to our thinking as it might seem, my mother went into mourning dress when my dad died - black for a good while and then moving to lavender.
Hallie wrote: "Yes, the delicacy I get. I'd forgotten that extent to which it was clear that the journey was dangerous and with that in place, it makes perfect sense that they oughtn't be whooping it up, as you ..."Did she also curtail certain activities? It took me a very long time to figure out this whole play thing, because Austen gives us just a clue or two that Fanny actually has the feelings and the rest of the family knows the lip-service version but ignores it, safe in the knowledge that they aren't entertaining anyway. (And then Tom is ready to invite the entire countryside.)
Anyway, it took a lot of reading of letters of the period, and journals, to figure out what was going on because it was one of those things that Austen assumes everyone knows--like what everyone was wearing.
Sherwood wrote: Did she also curtail certain activities?I wouldn't think so, but she'd been living alone with my dad, worrying about him, when he died, and I'd been with my grandparents in Annapolis. I don't think she wanted to do much frivolling anyway!
I'm glad you did the figuring-out for the rest of it, Sherwood! I'll be writing about it at some point, but one of the books I read for the history project is a recent book about a cousin of Jane Austen's, who goes to live with the Austen family. The author obviously did lots of research into the family, but has them rehearsing for a play they're going to put on on a Sunday morning, before church. (Also traveling on a Sunday, but I'm not quite so sure about that one in the circumstances.) Heck, there are quite a few members of our congregation (liberal Anglican) who generally avoid grocery shopping on a Sunday now! But writing at the time, as you say, you don't point out the universally understood. Fascinating.
Traveling on Sunday? That would have been as bad a no no as rehearsing a play on Sunday.
Sherwood wrote: "Traveling on Sunday? That would have been as bad a no no as rehearsing a play on Sunday."The character didn't start his journey on a Sunday, and there may have been some indication that he got caught with no alternative but to continue it overnight, arriving very early on Sunday. I don't remember the exact reason that I thought it might have been partially excused, but the rehearsing before church followed immediately after and that was written in a way that actually maximized its wrongness so really stuck out for me.
@HallieI think one has to read the play to understand some of the underlying tensions it would bring out. The scene Maria and Henry have with one another (though they do play mother and son) gives them the opportunity to get quite intimate with one another (with a hug and a kiss)--which would be seen as inappropriate for an engaged woman to be partaking in with a man who wasn't her intended. Which is why Julia and Maria fight for the part, as whoever plays the mother gets to be in that particular scene with Henry. So essentially the play becomes an excuse for the two sisters to try and find some "legitimate" way to break some taboos. And the fact that Maria is doing that in addition to being engaged makes it all the more twisted.
To me it's not that "plays are bad", it's more how the play is used as an excuse to "not so innocently" skirt around some societal taboos. A good way to think about it would be to think of Maria as trying to use the play as a legitimate reason to cheat on Mr. Rushworth. Add into that that the family is doing this while Sir Thomas is on a perilous trip as Sherwood mentions and the "wrong" meter goes up a whole load of notches.
I remember reading the end, and loving it! I was practically bouncing and squeling of joy! I'd loved Edmund troughout the book, hating him in some parts, yes, but always knowing who were right for each other. I don't feel like he chose next best, I really believe that he understood Mary Crawford's ugly persona, and discovered Fanny, which he could not see beneath Mary's "glittering and blinding" personality. I loved it, reading it for the first time at the age of fourteen, and I still love it dearly.
At the back of one of the Chapman editions of the novels, included is a set of notes that Jane Austen wrote down. She describes the reactions of various readers as reported to her. It's interesting to see the variety: some, like you, felt the ending was just right; others felt it ought to be right, but seem to have been ambivalent; and in her nephew's memoir about her, he records that Cassandra begged for a different ending. But Jane was adamant. Today, there is just such a variety!
And yet, it seems that if authors change the ending at someone else's request, they always seem to regret it. I'm thinking mostly of Thomas Hardy's "Return of the Native," and Agatha Christie's "Death Comes as the End." That second one is particularly maddening, because I can't find anywhere what exactly she changed about the ending (and later regretted)or figure out how drastic a change it was.
I love your review...well supported and you almost convinced that Fanny would have been better off with Henry.
I gather Cassandra thought so!Thank you.
Thanks! You answered all the historical questions I was wondering about.
E.S. wrote: "Thanks! You answered all the historical questions I was wondering about."Thanks for reading!
Great review. I've read all of Austen's books except this one. I plan on tackling it this year though.
Kay wrote: "Great review. I've read all of Austen's books except this one. I plan on tackling it this year though."Thanks. You are in for a treat!
Wow, your review is great. I'm really glad I stumbled on it.
Angela wrote: "Wow, your review is great. I'm really glad I stumbled on it."Thank you!
As seen in my review, I loved this book. But I will agree about the ending. That is the heavy handed morality tale that made it a tarnished five star, rather than a pure one. I don't really agree about Henry. Yes Edmund and Fanny seem sort of forced, but I don't think she could have really fixed Henry. She might have eventually loved him, and he definitely loved and respected her, but she would never have gotten the fidelity she would want, the genuine constancy he promises (although he would improve with time, given that he already had).
I can see your interpretation. He's such a complex character (well, they all are, though some more than others), supporting differing views. I do wish that Austen had SHOWN us her ending, rather than told us, though!
I totally am with you about being shown the ending. Usually she is very good about that, so I don't know what was up with Mansfield Park
I suspect the problem was one of delicacy as far as Henry's fall is concerned. She wasn't going to show us Henry and Maria running off (indicating a sea change between the writing of Lady Susan and Mansfield Park) but it's interesting that she doesn't show us Edward and Fanny falling in love. Just tells us. Which is why I think even her own beloved sister Cassandra begged her for another ending (according to family history).
Fascinating review, Sherwood. I had to read the entire comment thread after I finished it. :) You've given me a lot of food for thought. I think my views of this book have been influenced too much by seeing the film(s) afterwards, so I will definitely have to tackle this one again sometime soon. Sense and Sensibility will come first, though!
I agree with you for the play comment, and I myself wouldn't want to come back home to see my room with the furniture all moved and with junk (as it would feel like) put inside it!For the cousins marrying, I was confused since Sir Thomas didn't want the "cousins falling in love" as mentioned at the beginning of the book, so I thought that meant cousin marriage is incestuous in Sir Thomas's opinion too. Yet at the end of the book, Sir Thomas was perfectly happy to let the two cousins marry!
Cool, I read Jane Austen's collection of different acquaintances' (and friends and family members') opinions too and there is indeed so much variety! I personally love Fanny and Edmund but hate Mary and Henry Crawford, but that could partly be due to my own personality and experiences. Much of my childhood was lonely and almost friendless, so I could really relate to Fanny always being left out and feeling inferior to everyone else. Also, it's interesting how a lot of readers dislike Fanny and Edmund for being moral prudes...while I actually like them for having such strong morals. But maybe I'm a moral prude myself, so that's why I didn't see anything wrong with that, haha.
This is the only one of Austen's books that I haven't read. I made it half way through and then gave up on it. I think Austen, in trying to write a novel with an obvious moral tone, hampered herself too much in terms of building her story. Based on your description, I wonder if she started to like Henry too much and had to rein herself in to give the book the moral ending that she wanted. That might explain the difference in tone at the end of the book.
I find it interesting that so many cry out against Edmund and Fanny, because they're cousins; but I don't hear anyone crying out against Lady Katherine's intentions for her daughter Anne and Mr. Darcy--perhaps it's because they didn't marry; but there's also Henrietta Musgrove and her cousin, Charles Hayter. It was a thing that was done, as has already been stated--Jane seemed to think nothing of it. I believe Sir Thomas's fear was of suspicion: that his neighbors would think he had adopted Fanny with the motive of raising her for one of his sons to marry (see the end of the ball, where "it would have been plain to any looker-on that Sir Thomas had not been bringing up a wife for her younger son").That said, this is an excellent review--it leaves me feeling that to write one of my own would be unnecessary.
*his younger sonI should've proofread better.
I suspect that many who cry out against it are objecting to the cousinship marriage for a romantic hero. Nobody thinks that Mr. Darcy will actually marry poor Anne de Bourgh, and Henrietta and Charles Hayter are secondary characters in whose romantic lives readers are not invested. It's different for Fanny and Edmund.
I just started reading Emma. Decided to look at the synopsis for the other Austen books. Found your lengthy review. I was very glad at how you started it bc it gave me the idea without giving away the full story. I had made the decision to read it and stopped reading so as to not "ruin" the story for me. Thank you for your review. ☺️
Samantha wrote: "I just started reading Emma. Decided to look at the synopsis for the other Austen books. Found your lengthy review. I was very glad at how you started it bc it gave me the idea without giving away ..."I'm glad you found it useful!
Glad for the review and the comments. A few items to clarify. Morality, moderation and self-governance should always be remembered as the true north in this novel, which is why Fanny is our heroine. Yes, sickly and shy and rather a kicked-puppy, her views and decisions are always guided by what is socially acceptable and appropriate for the situation, environment and persons involved. The play was inappropriate not because of Sir Thomas' absence and peril, nor for the spending of his finances while absence for mere frivolity and entertainment. The play was inappropriate because of the way the classes partook of plays, in some circles referred to as "spectacles". Only the lower classes took part in acting because the heightened drama was not seen as an appropriate display of emotion from the higher classes. Some of the higher classes WOULD ATTEND plays, leaving room for societal whispers about who attended the "vulgar shows" (meaning common, not lewd), how often they attended, which plays were viewed (as some were less morally reprehensible than others). But as far as ACTING, those with position only partook with the understanding whispers would be spread of the scandal in them exposing themselves to such vulgar amusements. The play decided upon was considered particularly salacious, and no young woman of any moral fiber or standing would have partaken, even in private. The error in judgment was then further compounded when the audience was extended beyond the immediate household. Sir Thomas' two purportedly moral, modest, self-governed, well-stationed daughters taking part in a particularly salacious selection of a vulgar entertainment while their moral, self-governed, highly respected father was out of the country, and exposing this egregious moral failure to the twitterings of the servants, neighbors and the like...and that not one, but BOTH of their elder brothers not only permitted this immoral indulgence, but ENCOURAGED it by participating likewise...you begin to get the picture. As to the charge of Sir Thomas not wanting the cousins to fall in love because it was incestuous, I think others have already established that was acceptable in the time. I would propose his consideration came from self-preservation of the family respect and inheritance. Fanny was a lesser cousin. They were being rather charitable in allowing her to come under their protection and upbringing, and in doing so, they increased their reputation with no cost other than pittance money. For her to MARRY into their household, however, would certainly exalt her even higher, but would inevitably cause the family to loose some of their esteem and reputation. Modern readers tend to consider such Cinderella stories only from the view point of the exalted Cinderella, but in the reality of nobility and classes Cinderella stories don't happen without the prince and the royal family being lowered in the perception of their aristocracy.
The theater was very popular in England at the time, all classes attended. Also, Austen's family participated in home theatricals. The problem was appropriateness given the father's situation.
I never much liked Edmund myself -- I don't see that he really appreciated her.