Classics and the Western Canon discussion
Austen, Pride and Prejudice
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Week 1: Vol. I, Chapters I - XII
Strictly speaking, the regiment in the neighborhood is not the regular military, but the Militia, raised for service at home --only in the British Isles -- whereas the army might be sent abroad.The difference provides key points for the development of sub-plots. None of which would have needed explanation to Jane Austen's original readers.
For those who don't have a well-annotated edition, and aren't familiar with the period in general:
Army, Militia, and Naval officers came mainly from the "minor gentry" in whom Jane Austen specialized.
Army officers had to purchase their commissions (a proof of loyalty to the established order, since they could forfeit it for "bad" behavior that alarmed the authorities). But Militia officers needed only proof of social standing, and some independent income (not necessarily large), which made them look unlikely to be revolutionaries. Wickham apparently passed muster, which made him look marriageable, if not a prize "catch."
(The Navy was somewhat different: proof of competence was, in theory, required for promotion from midshipman to lieutenant -- who wants to trust an expensive ship (and its crew) to someone who doesn't know what he is doing? But favoritism to the wealthy, the well-connected, and those from established "naval" families with relatives in important positions, was by and large the rule. And promotions to Commander and Captain went by favor. Once a Captain, however, the promotion to Admiral came if he survived enough of his seniors, even if he was never employed as such.)
This has been applied to the argument that "Pride and Prejudice" is a "war novel," although the conflict is barely mentioned directly (most notably in an anticipation of peace late in the book.)
The exact time setting of the book is in dispute, too. To some critics it appears to be some time before the Battle of Trafalgar (1805) demolished Napoleon's plan for a joint Franco-Spanish fleet that could seize control of the Channel from the Royal Navy.
This is significant because a French invasion is apparently regarded as imminent, which accounts for the otherwise pointless marching around of militia regiments, in particular to points along the coast, such as Brighton.
This would have been true of the mid-1790s, when Austen drafted the book as "First Impressions," but, at a pinch, it can be applied to later stages of the Napoleonic wars, closer to when the book was finally published, when there was still a theoretical threat of invasion. So the argument is inconclusive (although I favor the earlier date for this and other reasons).
Also unspoken would be the assumption that the Army, Navy, and Militia between them would be soaking up eligible young men, the first two often taking them out of the "marriage market" for most practical purposes, the last shifting them from their accustomed neighborhoods. Jane Austen had brothers in both the Navy and the Militia, and would be quite aware of this.
Another point which has been brought up by critics is that wartime inflation and taxation cut heavily into fixed incomes from small estates, so that "well-off" families like the Bennets had little opportunity to save money to endow daughters. (A point which had to be otherwise accounted for, by an early death, in "Sense and Sensibility.")
It should be remembered that *large* estates, if well-managed, usually could increase production to meet a demand for food to feed the army and navy, and in some cases they could sell timber to supply the Royal Navy with its wooden ships. While at the same time (some) merchants, and bankers were, temporarily, flourishing in the war economy, putting another stress on the class structure as it related to marriage.
(One of Jane Austen's brothers became a banker, handling funds for the government's acquisitions and payrolls -- which turned out to be a precarious business with the "outbreak of peace." This also threw a great many officers back into the civilian economy, on half-pay. For which, see "Persuasion.")
Kerstin wrote: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
This must be one of the more iconic opening lines in all of literature.
..."
That is such a great opening sentence. Austen packs so much into it. My immediate reaction on first reading it was to think, “Says who?” Why would a man with a fortune be looking for a wife? I dismissed it as something the Mrs. Bennets of the world would say and not because a man needs a wife but because women need husbands for financial support.
I dug a little deeper. Yes, the opening sentence is ironic, but it is also very true. A man of wealth does need a wife and not necessarily because he seeks marital bliss. More importantly, he needs children to inherit his wealth—preferably sons because daughters did not have the right to inherit until the 1870s Married Women Property Act. So if a man wants to ensure the family wealth stays within the family, he better hurry up and find a wife who will give him male offspring.
And as for the women, there were two options available to them at the time—marriage or spinsterhood. Any mother who is concerned for the welfare of her daughters will do what is necessary to secure their futures. And that means parading them up and down in front of all available bachelors (preferably, those with means) in the hope that one will take the bait.
Mrs. Bennet may be crass and unlikeable. But she understands women were perceived as a commodities, a means to an end. With five daughters on her hands, she knows she better get them married off while they’re young enough for the marriage market. Can one blame her?
Ian wrote: "Strictly speaking, the regiment in the neighborhood is not the regular military, but the Militia, raised for service at home --only in the British Isles -- whereas the army might be sent abroad.T..."
Thank you, Ian, for the detailed explanation! I had wondered why this regiment showed up.
It makes sense that the officers were largely from the lower gentry. You have need of a good number, and they needed to be educated enough to do the job. Plus the sons who were not in line to inherit needed a way to make a living.
Ian wrote: "Also unspoken would be the assumption that the Army, Navy, and Militia between them would be soaking up eligible young men, the first two often taking them out of the "marriage market" for most practical purposes,..."This "dearth of men" produced a very lopsided demography over time. When decades later George Gissing wrote his novel The Odd Women (1893), there were a million more women in England than were men (if I remember correctly).
Tamara wrote: "Mrs. Bennet may be crass and unlikeable. But she understands women were perceived as a commodities, a means to an end. With five daughters on her hands, she knows she better get them married off while they’re young enough for the marriage market. Can one blame her?"I love the "measured" exaggeration. The Bennets have five daughters, not impossible, but for most couples an unlikely outcome. To get them all settled takes a herculean effort under normal circumstances. But we have a war in the background, and as Ian pointed out, many of the eligible men became officers thereby shrinking the number of those left to marry. No wonder Mrs. Bennet is all giddy to have a rich bachelor renting an estate nearby.
Kerstin wrote: "I love the "measured" exaggeration. The Bennets have five daughters, not impossible, but for most couples an unlikely outcome. ..."Unlikely, but far from unknown. I know of one woman who gave up trying for a daughter after four sons.
Tamara wrote: "More importantly, he needs children to inherit his wealth—preferably sons because daughters did not have the right to inherit until the 1870s Married Women Property Act...."This is a little complicated, and I won't go into the legal details -- not all of which are clear to me, anyway. The problem of entails is complex, and Mrs. Bennet wasn't the only one who didn't understand them.
In general, women could, although not automatically, inherit liquid wealth, such as money, bonds, or investments --- which became the husband's at marriage, unless a special contract was drawn up securing it (available to the wealthy who could hire good lawyers, and could press a suitor to make concessions). And sometimes they inherited unentailed land as well. Hence the presence of heiresses in fiction (like Emma Woodhouse), and reality: the target of fortune-hunters in many a plot.
What they could not inherit was *entailed* land, real property governed by sort of deed that spelled out who could inherit, always a male descendant, in a male line, of the person who made the entail. An entail could be broken with the concurrent consent of a male heir, usually in the immediate family, which the Bennet's lack, accounting for their situation to begin with.
The entail had other irksome features, for which breaking was the solution: entailed land could be leased out, but could not be sold to take advantage of financial opportunity. And if a previous owner had let the estate decay sufficiently, it might turn out to be a net loss until it was (expensively) put back in proper shape. (Georgette Heyer got parts of a couple of novels out of that situation.)
Having just watched all of Bridgerton upon reading the first line I thought of once of the ton and the season in which the upper class of the Regency era with marriageable children present their children to the society in hopes of arranging marriages. I do not believe that this is exactly the case in Pride and Prejudice but it is a very similar context.
Kerstin wrote: "Ian wrote: "Also unspoken would be the assumption that the Army, Navy, and Militia between them would be soaking up eligible young men, the first two often taking them out of the "marriage market" ..."This reminded me of Alcott's Little Women with four daughters and their mother as main characters which took place in the time of the Civil War. Mrs. March didn't seem so preoccupied with her daughters' future as Mrs. Bennett but maybe it reflects how Alcott wasn't that concerned with marriage herself, or how American society was less economically stratified than Regency England in those days.
Tamara wrote: "Kerstin wrote: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
This must be one of the more iconic opening lines in all of... Mrs. Bennet may be crass and unlikeable. But she understands women were perceived as a commodities, a means to an end. With five daughters on her hands, she knows she better get them married off while they’re young enough for the marriage market."
Isn't it also ironic that the single man in possession of a good fortune entering a neighborhood is also "considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters"? The marriage market demeans both men and women as commodities.
I thought you were supposed to be somewhat comfortably well off to have your own 'carriage' at home, and I thought the Bennetts were not as poor as I believed before, but of course, I might be mistaken as it might be a bit different in the country. The Chaise and four that Bingley came down to Netherland was a closed carriage, drawn by four horses (showing signs of wealth), whereas hackney carriages (or hack port-chaise) are looked down on by Catherine Morland in Northanger Abbey. 'A heroine in a hack post-chaise is such a blow upon sentiment, as no attempt at grandeur or pathos can withstand.' I wonder if the Bennetts owned a hackney?
Jane Austen and her readers knew a great deal about coaches, and how much they cost, plus upkeep, with horses, grooms, etc., and could make a fair estimate of the necessary income, and probably tell whether someone was supposed to be living beyond his (or her) means. (There is a discussion of the issue in "Sense and Sensibility," which I think needs notes to be entirely clear today.)We do much the same, quite automatically, when brands and styles of cars are mentioned in modern fiction. This too will probably have to be deciphered for future generations.
Strictly speaking, at the time a hackney was a hired coach, and they "were generally regarded a rather sordid means of transport and were often battered, second-hand vehicles." (So Fiona Stafford's note to the old (2004) Oxford World's Classics edition. Other editions have similar comments.) Thus, in Sherlock Holmes' London, we find, as a descendent, the convenient London "hackney cab."*
The Bennets are not, at the time of the story, acutally poor: they are reasonably well-off, especially compared to the vast majority: nor will they be poor while Mr. Bennet is alive and able to draw an income from the entailed estate.
What happens to his wife and daughters after his death is another matter.
*Public pressure against the obvious mistreatment of horses, plus the emergence of companies that ran cabs (and other vehicles), instead of individual owner/drivers, may have made the hackneys of the late Victorian era rather better than any for-hire vehicles of Jane Austen's day. For one thing, owner-drivers usually had to buy the cheapest horses they could find, and work them mercilessly to earn back their investments before they died. The used carriages themselves weren't treated much better, for a similar reason. But the large companies put a good deal of capital into their draft horses, and woe betide the mere employee who harmed one, or recklessly damaged the vehicle.
Ian wrote: "Jane Austen and her readers knew a great deal about coaches, and how much they cost, plus upkeep, with horses, grooms, etc., and could make a fair estimate of the necessary income, and probably tel..."Wow, thank you, Ian for some great background info. I have started Sue Wilke's A Visitor's Guide to Jane Austen's England for reference on the background and I find your comments are much more informative. I now just read the footnote in my Norton Critical Edition which tells me the estimated incomes. Bingley's 4000-5000 pound puts him at the top 0.1% of the top 1% where as Darcy has an annual income of 10,000 pound at top 0.02% of the top 1%! Mr Bennet's income is 2000 pounds a year (top 0.8% of the top 1 %), so very reasonably well-off indeed.
I read through Chapter VIII tonight. Straight away I was struck again by what I was struck by the first time I read it: this is much funnier than I had prejudged Austen to be. "Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how." Been there, Mary. Or Elizabeth to Jane: "I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person." And Mr. Bennet maintaining an above-it-all air while teasing (for the most part affectionately, I think) his family. Oh God no, don't describe the lace! Who cannot identify with the man.Austen does a fine job beginning to sketch out some undercurrents at play between these young people. Bingley's eligible sister is clearly quick to jump in with attempts to belittle Elizabeth when Darcy is around. Darcy seems wise to the game; this passage at the end of VIII, after Miss Bingley has criticized Elizabeth for imagined romantic plotting, is brilliant:
"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, "there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."
Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject.
That's just such a great, more understated than it needed to have been, description of Miss Bingley's reaction to her strategem meeting resistance, and the anxiety it must evoke in her character.
Borum wrote: "I now just read the footnote in my Norton Critical Edition which tells me the estimated incomes. Bingley's 4000-5000 pound puts him at the top 0.1% of the top 1% where as Darcy has an annual income of 10,000 pound at top 0.02% of the top 1%! Mr Bennet's income is 2000 pounds a year (top 0.8% of the top 1 %), so very reasonably well-off indeed."A note at the end of Norton's third edition reports that current day estimates of Darcy's annual income range from $330,000 to over six million dollars (US) (estimates from 1990-1991, so already thirty years of inflation behind at this point). Very wide range, clearly well-off.
Tamara wrote: Mrs. Bennet may be crass and unlikeable. But she understands women were perceived as a commodities, a means to an end. With five daughters on her hands, she knows she better get them married off while they’re young enough for the marriage market. Can one blame her?Thank you! She's very aware of how small her kids' income will be if they don't get married! Jane and Lizzie have these lofty ideals of marrying for love that are putting them at risk of aging out of the market for the most desirable bachelors. I don't say this as a 21st century feminist, I say this from the perspective of Mrs Bennett.
Also with the 5 daughters: I have 2 friends with lots of kids all of the same gender. 2 people on my street have 4 boys. It's not that unusual.
Mike wrote: "Having just watched all of Bridgerton upon reading the first line I thought of once of the ton and the season in which the upper class of the Regency era with marriageable children present their ch..."It says at some point in P&P that the girls never formally entered society because their parents were too disorganised. You wouldn't normally have 5 daughters on the market, the youngest would have to wait until the oldest had married.
Borum wrote: "I thought you were supposed to be somewhat comfortably well off to have your own 'carriage' at home, and I thought the Bennetts were not as poor as I believed before, but of course, I might be mist..."Remember that this is the family car, and there's quite a bit of conflict over who gets to take it out when. Their dad gets priority when he has to go and conduct farm business, they only get to use it when he's not. They're also in the country, so even going to visit a neighbour or into town for some shopping is quite a hike, and walking home 3 miles in the rain gave you a much higher chance of serious illness, as Jane demonstrates. This seems more of a practicality than anything.
What I noticed was that the Bingleys where somehow shocked that Jane and Lizzie walked the 3 miles in bad weather, but they had no difficulty in sending a servant to the Bennets twice to keep them updated. (So if you're poor it's ok to walk around in bad weather? Or did I miss something?)
Jen wrote: "Tamara wrote: Mrs. Bennet may be crass and unlikeable. But she understands women were perceived as a commodities, a means to an end. With five daughters on her hands, she knows she better get them ..."My kids aren't living in quite the same world but I know that parents these days still are concerned with what kind of 'society' their children are associated with. I was surprised at how many parents were particular about what kind of playdates and neighborhood and schools their kids would enter. They might be centered on education instead of the marital partners but lots of mothers (and fathers) are concerned with getting their kids the 'better opportunity' to thrive later on in their lives. So, I understand Mrs. Bennet better than I did before I had kids of my own. I'm now rather puzzled at how Mr. Bennet was so nonchalant about his daughters' future even though he is still my favorite character in the novel.
I've been thinking over some points about the pride and prejudice of the various characters. Mary's comment on the difference between vanity and pride is interesting. I also wonder if anybody has the 'right' to be proud as Miss Lucas said Mr. Darcy was. Does status and fortune and 'everything in one's favour' serve as an excuse for pride? If so, wouldn't it be more akin to Mary's definition of vanity centered on others' opinions instead of pride? Is it okay to be proud as long as it doesn't 'mortify' others' pride?
Not only Darcy but lots of other characters are described as being proud.
The Bingley sisters leave Elizabeth with an impression of being 'proud and conceited' and belittles Jane's relatives as people who work for their living, but seems to forget that their brother's and their own fortune had been acquired by trade. I guess prejudice is a fixed attitude only directed towards others.
The distinction of knighthood was felt too strongly for Sir Lucas and he, too, looked down on his business but although pleased with his importance doesn't seem too supercilious.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, were regarded by the Bingley sisters and Mrs. Hurst as having bad manners, 'a mixture of pride and impertinence'.
I was also impressed by Elizabeth's retort made on the men's overreaching expectations made for women's accomplishments. Unrealistic, undeserved and unilateral expectations seem to work as prejudice as well. As the first sentence hinted, this kind of prejudice will probably work towards restricting both sexes.
I'm from Ontario, where parents can choose one of 4 types of public education for their children: English-medium secular education, French-immersion secular education, English-medium Catholic education, and French-immersion Catholic education. When I was a kid, the default for everyone was option 1. Now you'll hardly find a white middle-class child whose parents were raised in Canada in those schools. Better opportunities in the other schools, the parents will sniff.Mr Bennett seems aware that he is not a great parent and feels regret about it. But he also seems too lazy to take his family in hand and get them under control. If he had 5 sons, presumably he would have taken more care with their upbringing, but he left his daughters care to his wife.
Lydia is my favourite character because she DGAF.
Ian wrote: "Kerstin wrote: "I love the "measured" exaggeration. The Bennets have five daughters, not impossible, but for most couples an unlikely outcome. ..."
Unlikely, but far from unknown. I know of one wo..."
Agreed. I'm the only daughter of 5 children--and the youngest.
Unlikely, but far from unknown. I know of one wo..."
Agreed. I'm the only daughter of 5 children--and the youngest.
Borum wrote: "Isn't it also ironic that the single man in possession of a good fortune entering a neighborhood is also "considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters"? The marriage market demeans both men and women as commodities."I don’t see how it demeans the man. Unlike the woman, a man can exercise choice.
Miss Bingley can ridicule Mrs. Bennet, point out the class differences, demean Elizabeth, and even dance a merry jig around Darcy to attract him. But she realizes none of that makes the slightest bit of difference because he gets to choose. She doesn’t. He has control. He can choose to marry any of the women parading themselves before him. He can even marry “beneath” him by choosing a woman from the middle class if it suits him. So, yes, he may be perceived as up for grabs by women, as a wealthy commodity that is theirs for the taking. But in reality, he is nothing of the sort. He is a buyer in a buyer’s marriage market. He has choice.
The women are not so fortunate. They are expected to doll themselves up and hope they are the “lucky” ones to get picked. Women were under tremendous social pressure to accept a marriage proposal, especially if the proposal provided the opportunity for upward mobility. It takes a strong woman to go against her social conditioning—one who must be prepared to face the condemnation of her culture if she says no to marriage and upward mobility.
Darcy’s description of an accomplished woman is ridiculously unrealistic. She must have a “thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages,” and she must “add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”Elizabeth challenges the notion that any real woman can live up to this constructed ideal of womanhood.
Austen reveals a number of things in this brief exchange. She shows Elizabeth as rejecting unrealistic social expectations placed on women, which tells the reader Elizabeth will not necessarily comply with what society expects of her as a woman. I think Austen also exposes society’s double standard as no such expectations are placed on men. And she shows Darcy as being somewhat ignorant about women since he has bought into the socially constructed idea that actual women can meet this standard.
Austen does this in the space of a few, short lines. Pretty impressive.
Now that we've all met the Bennet family in detail, we are faced with the problem of how Mr. Bennet, an intelligent and likable-seeming man, is such a failure as a father, at least to most of his children, and so negligent of the welfare of all of them.There is an explanation for the former, based on detecting his influence, or lack of influence, on each of his daughters, offered by Gracia Fay Ellwood, expanding on an observation by Doris Robin, which I find persuasive. (And I don't think that fact that I know both of them matters here.)
It is available on-line, and is short. See: http://www.jasna.org/persuasions/on-l...
for "How Not to Father: Mr. Bennet and Mary," in PERSUASIONS ON-LINE. A Pubication of the Jane Austen Society of North America, Vol. 22, Nol 1 (Winter 2001)
Tamara wrote: "Borum wrote: "Isn't it also ironic that the single man in possession of a good fortune entering a neighborhood is also "considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters"?..."You are right. Men were the buyers and they had the power to choose. However, I don't think that the men were exactly exempt from becoming commodities themselves as the ladies in town were remarking mostly on the income of the men. It is unfair for women to be expected to naturally be endowed with so many qualities and accomplishment but I don't think it's fair for men to be judged solely on power or wealth. I know lots of men who are insecure of their prospects in love or marriage due to their lack of money although they have many wonderful nonmaterial qualities. Darwin's writings on the sexual pecking order of non-human animals were as disturbing as that of the human society. It's okay for men with wealth and power to choose their women but what about the ones with less fortune? I think the algorithms and conditions that the matchmaking service of today even uses similar kinds of stratifying qualities for men and women.
Borum wrote: "You are right. Men were the buyers and they had the power to choose. However, I don't think that the men were exactly exempt from becoming commodities themselves as the ladies in town were remarking mostly on the income of the men...."For the upper levels of society (including much of the Middle Class), money and rank were the main readily observable variables for a young woman as to whether a man was likely to make a "good" husband, that is, one that provided the comforts of life, and a suitable standing in Society. Jane Austen was obviously very aware of this, and not happy about it.
Known bad habits, such as heavy gambling, or habitual drunkenness, or philandering, were a moderating factor in the cash-in-hand expectations of alert parents, but such information was less likely to be known to marriageable daughters themselves, unless necessary to discourage them from an unsuitable choice.
The social constraints of Austen's period made this pretty much inevitable for the upper class (to which the Bennets, however insecurely, belong).
There was no such thing as an intimate courtship for the respectable.
For women, a man could be observed at a ball, while playing cards, at the dinner table, or in polite conversation. His taste in reading, particularly poetry, might be discovered, and interpreted (although this might be only show: claiming to like the most popular poets of the day need not be proof of having gone to the trouble of reading them).
In polite gatherings of family and friends he might be invited to participate in reading aloud, a common form of entertainment, and his skill in interpreting verse or novels observed, with deduced reflections on his probable character.*
Not a whole lot of data on which to make a life-determining decision.
*This practice, and accompanying attitude, reached down into the lower middle classes in Austen's time: one eighteenth-century German traveler discovered that his London boarding-house landlady, several times widowed, was determined to select her next husband by his skill in reading poetry aloud. He found this remarkable, as showing how literary even the ordinary English had become, as opposed to those of similar status in the Fatherland... (Later generations Germans were sure of the superiority of their, originally mainly Prussian, system of public education, one borrowed in part by the United States.)
By Dickens' time, with greater literacy in the "lower class" (in part the fruit of a religious-minded movement for education, the results of which disappointed its proponents), the practice had migrated down the social ladder, and was one of the ways in which serialized fiction in particular reached a wider audience than the number of copies in print.
This may have been how early "cheap" editions of Austen reached a truly mass audience for the first time.
Ian, just a quick note to say thank you for providing some very helpful information. It situates the novel in its social, cultural, and economic context.
Ian wrote: "Now that we've all met the Bennet family in detail, we are faced with the problem of how Mr. Bennet, an intelligent and likable-seeming man, is such a failure as a father, at least to most of his c..."I’m wondering if we’re being a little too harsh on Mr. Bennet for abdicating his responsibilities toward his daughters. Is it possible that he does so because he understands the rules of the game? Like his wife, he must recognize his daughters need husbands for their financial security even though he ridicules Mrs. Bennet for being so blatant about it. Perhaps he also recognizes that, under the present circumstances, his wife is better equipped to make them attractive to potential suitors than he is.
His favorite daughter and the one on whom he has the greatest influence is Elizabeth. Elizabeth is more like her father any of her siblings. Unlike Jane, she is not docile or compliant. She disregards the restrictions placed on women. She traipses around in the mud. She is intelligent and articulate. She speaks her mind. For that and more, she is criticized by the Bingley sisters. What they are really objecting to is that Elizabeth exhibits “mannish” qualities.
While Mr. Bennet favors her over his other daughters, it might also be he recognizes her qualities may not endear her to potential male suitors, most of whom are seeking subordinate and obedient wives—the Janes of the world. Is it possible he takes a back seat and lets Mrs. Bennet take the lead in molding the girls because, even though he may not like it, he understands the situation?
Tamara wrote: "I’m wondering if we’re being a little too harsh on Mr. Bennet for abdicating his responsibilities toward his daughters. ..."You may be right. Jane Austen has gone to some length to make him an entertaining character, with many admirable traits.
Hoewver, he seems to realize that his wife's public behavior is as much an obstacle to a good marriage as an asset, and signally fails to do much about it.
He seems to have taken the line of least resistance with Mrs. Bennet for years, and she seems to have advanced in mature judgment little beyond the no-doubt very attractive girl he married.
As the article I cited points out, Mr. Bennet misses the opportunity to direct Mr. Collins to Mary, who is intelligent enough to be aware of her limited choices in marriage, is the only one really favorably impressed by his letter, and who seems to have good manners (unlike her younger sisters).
And, judging from what we are told about her copybook, and from her conversation, she is so conventional-minded as to make an inoffensive wife for a clergyman, especially one with not much capacity for original thought himself, and always ready to defer to social rank.
This would be an elegant solution to the family's problem, quite as much as marrying Elizabeth: although, of course, Jane Austen needed to avoid it, in order to keep the story going, and increase the stakes for the Bennet women.
Mr. Bennet's paternal failings may be plot-points as much as character development, just as dead ("Sense and Sensibility"), absent ("Northanger Abbey"), or variously incompetent ("Emma," "Persuasion") fathers figure in other of her novels.
Ian wrote: "What happens to his wife and daughters after his death is another matter."Mrs. Bennet has money of her own. So she will have income for her lifetime even if she has to vacate Longbourn.
Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.
I can't see Mrs. Bennet, especially with a couple of daughters in tow, make an economic success of living on the *interest* of her four-thousand-pounds capital, instead of a income of half that total.How the money was invested might make a difference in the total income she had to deal with.
The popular choice (probably made by her farther) at the time would not have been the volatile, exchange, which offered quick gains, but the less lucrative, but much more secure, "Consols," the "consolidated" bonds issued by the government to fund the National Debt, which paid a predictable amount.
By the way, in the new United States, Alexander Hamilton admired this system, which tied to the interest of the bond-holding wealthy to the success of a strong government that could collect taxes to pay them.
(Unlike the situation in France before Louis XIV, where the rich and powerful favored a weak government that let them do much as they pleased. French Absolutism eventually managed to have the worst of both worlds, and never had a regular mechanism for paying off what it owed....)
Thomas Jefferson felt quite differently on the matter. The question of whether to completely pay off the domestic part of the National Debt was a live issue in the early Republic.
Marieke wrote: "What I noticed was that the Bingleys where somehow shocked that Jane and Lizzie walked the 3 miles in bad weather, but they had no difficulty in sending a servant to the Bennets twice to keep them ...""To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum."
Paraphrasing my footnotes, Etiquette required *young ladies* to be accompanied when on walks. The only acceptable exceptions were going to church or walking in a park (probably part of the estate).
So when we unpack this, the first failure here is Mrs. Bennet herself. She pushes Jane into an inappropriate situation. The fact that she arrives sodden and bedraggled only adds to the injury and embarrassment. The next failure is Mr. Bennet. He doesn't insist his daughter is properly taken to Netherfield Park.
Now when I dig deeper, I ask myself why was this etiquette in place to begin with? Today we normally approach this as an infringement on personal freedom, and there is certainly truth to that, but is this the whole answer? One obvious factor is safety, protection from assault. It then got codified in etiquette, especially in the upper classes.
Borum wrote: "The distinction of knighthood was felt too strongly for Sir Lucas and he, too, looked down on his business but although pleased with his importance doesn't seem too supercilious."For today's reader the subtle rankings of the gentry can be confusing. Sir Lucas is an interesting case:
Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty...he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own importance...According to my footnotes, Lucas is elevated to the status of pseudogentry on the basis of his social prominence locally and wealth acquired through trade. The renaming of the home as "Lucas Lodge" is another sign of affectations of the pseudogentility. In other words, they are nouveau riche.
Ian wrote: "I can't see Mrs. Bennet, especially with a couple of daughters in tow, make an economic success of living on the *interest* of her four-thousand-pounds capital"Ah, that makes sense. Mr. Bennet earned two thousand per year, she had a dowry totaling four thousand.
Tamara wrote: "Darcy’s description of an accomplished woman is ridiculously unrealistic."I do not say the following as a fault of the book, but to the contrary. Maybe I am too old and my plumage is not what it once was, or perhaps I have been socially distancing myself for too long erasing any remaining care, but I do not miss the unrealistic level of social scrutiny and expectations exemplified in P&P and what remains of it in real modern life, for either sex. I find myself relating to Mr. Bennet 's apparent attitude and I like to think that while he may act prudently, he finds it all as tedious and exhausting as I do.
As for the opening line, I cannot help but recall the meme against the Twilight novels:
Twilight is about the importance of having a boyfriendI have enjoyed the thoughtful and informative reflections here on the degree to which the times have changed and converted a universally accepted truth into a modern insult.
~someone on reddit, NOT Stephen King
Kerstin wrote: "Ah, that makes sense. Mr. Bennet earned two thousand per year, she had a dowry totaling four thousand..."I had lost my reference for Mrs. Bennet's income, but tried a search on my Kindle versions: Fiona Stafford, in the old (2004) Oxford World's Classics edition, states that "Four thousand pounds would generate an annual income of less than £200."
{Edited to add: Stafford also points out, elsewhere, that the daughters stood to each receive an income of only 40 pounds, on Mrs. Bennet's death.}
This is not quite a tenth of what the family was accustomed to live on, and would have to extend to paying for housing (which had been part of the package) while trying to maintain a respectable place in Society. Not a good prospect, especially with no one able to earn an income (women's options were very limited, remember), although far from desperate penury.
I would expect each daughter will get a dowry. They will have something, but not enough to maintain their current level.
Ian wrote: "Not a whole lot of data on which to make a life-determining decision.""Who needs data, it's all a coin flip anyway." - Charlotte Lucas, probably.
Bacl in #29, I mentioned early cheap editions of Austen: there is an article on the subject at https://lithub.com/jane-austen-gritty..."Jane Austen, Gritty Educational Reformer of the Working Class," by Janine Barchas. The editions described were issued from about 1890 to 1940, sometimes complete, sometimes not. The article includes a link to Barchas' book on the subject, The Lost Books of Jane Austen
(Edited to replace link)
Ian wrote: "He seems to have taken the line of least resistance with Mrs. Bennet for years, and she seems to have advanced in mature judgment little beyond the no-doubt very attractive girl he married...."
I've noticed after my first years of marriage that "the line of least resistance" is often the healthiest option.
I don't perceive the Bennets as failed parents, they're acting in the best interest of their daughters, regardless of the outcome.
Anyways, let's admit it, that's just brilliant:
"You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party.”
Emil wrote: ""You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party.”"This and the exchange after is another example of etiquette. Mrs. Bennet entreats her husband to introduce himself, and thereby the family, to newly arrived Mr. Bingley. At first it appears as if he doesn't want to,
"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."
"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not."
"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy." (Chapter I)
Mrs. Bennet is in a fix here, because no lady could visit an unmarried man without first being introduced by a third party (often a male relation). And then comes the twist at the beginning of Chapter II:
Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following manner. ...Mr. Bennet is doing his duty by his family, but it looks like he is having a little fun while at it, revealing only so much and watching everyone's reactions. Mrs. Bennet's reaction in turn is that of the seasoned wife, she knows her husband.
"How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till now."
Tamara wrote: "Ian wrote: "Now that we've all met the Bennet family in detail, we are faced with the problem of how Mr. Bennet, an intelligent and likable-seeming man, is such a failure as a father, at least to m..."I feel that sometimes the laissez-faire attitude is more conducive in human relationship and in parenting than too much scheming and meddling. I also noticed how Mr Bennet had only Elizabeth in mind for 'recommending' and how he eventually goes off to visit Mr. Bingley on his own. He does have an interest in his daughters but seems to prefer a more subtle 'wait and see' touch, like Elizabeth does with Jane in her relationship with Mr. Bingley. How the father and daughter are alike!
Emil wrote: "Ian wrote: "He seems to have taken the line of least resistance with Mrs. Bennet for years, and she seems to have advanced in mature judgment little beyond the no-doubt very attractive girl he marr..."Ian wrote: "Borum wrote: "You are right. Men were the buyers and they had the power to choose. However, I don't think that the men were exactly exempt from becoming commodities themselves as the ladies in town..."
It's written that she doesn't have as much clue to what Mr. Bennet is like but I've noticed that it's impossible to be married for so long without both of them mutually accustomed to each other's quirks. She quickly changes the subject to Mr. Darcy when she senses his resistance to the talk of all the laces, and he probably can predict and look through her schemes.
When I read this a long time ago, I didn't notice Charlotte Lucas so much but I am rediscovering her value and she has some point in her conversation with Eliza. Why do men have to 'fathom' the women's feelings and why do women have to be so subtle about her own feelings? Wouldn't it be sort of vain to think that someone will go through the risk of going after a woman he doesn't even know has any real affection for him?
Although I don't think you should be clueless about the person one marries, isn't it possible to accept that there are some things you just don't know until you get married even if you have been going out with someone for a very long time before marriage? Also, even if one really knows and loves someone before they are married, isn't it possible that happiness in marriage is still not fully guaranteed? I don't think one should know as little as possible about the defects of your fiance but I do see some truth in what she said about how they always contrive to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation.
They don't 'always contrive' to grow unlike but people may change in different situations like marriage or parenthood.
I didn't notice it before, but now that I'm married for more than 10 years, I find Charlotte's outlook much more realistic than Elizabeth's and that made me sort of depressed. ;-)
Rebecca Mead who wrote a reader's memoir on George Eliot's Middlemarch remarked that though she thought she was Dorothea, she turned out to be Celia. I thought I was Elizabeth before I got married (I also had no intentions of getting married) but I turned out a Charlotte. Sigh..
Kerstin wrote: "Marieke wrote: "What I noticed was that the Bingleys where somehow shocked that Jane and Lizzie walked the 3 miles in bad weather, but they had no difficulty in sending a servant to the Bennets twi... "To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum."Paraphrasing my footnotes, Etiquette required *young ladies* to be accompanied when on walks."
Ah, I now see why they put so much stress on the 'alone' part. I wonder what they would think of her parents who let both Jane AND Elizabeth go by themselves.
We should remember that Elizabeth had younger sisters with her as far as Maryton, although this does not appear to have made an impression at Nettleton. Part of the "great deal of surprise" in the Bingley circle is that it is "so early in the day," and "in such dirty weather," even though the goal is to check on an ailing sibling. Mr. Darcy has his doubts as to "the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone," which may show only that he is more optimistic about Janes' quick recovery than her family -- or still doesn't care much about it. He does notice how well she looks after healthy exercise.
There may be a bit of town-versus-country here too. A family memoir describes Jane and her sister Cassandra walking the muddy roads of Steventon (the little town where they grew up). Of course, they accompanied each other, but there was no mention of a servant, besides not bothering with carriages for "short" local travel. Of course, we probably can't be sure how much distance Jane Austen would have considered excessive to travel alone part of the way to the destination, on such an errand.
(In Frederica, one of her longer Regency Romances, Georgette Heyer used contrasting urban/rural expectations concerning walking: she introduced two country-bred sisters who were used to long walks, and found London servants quite hopeless at keeping up with them. To preserve the proprieties, they went out together in the London streets, taking in tow a rather large dog, with long, sharp-looking teeth. The dog was absurdly friendly, but no one ever presumed to approach them to test its reaction to a stranger....)
Borum wrote: "When I read this a long time ago, I didn't notice Charlotte Lucas so much but I am rediscovering her value and she has some point in her conversation with Eliza.."I feel the same way about Charlotte. She seems to have a very practical and sensible attitude about marriage. And her suggestion that Jane should be more demonstrative in her feelings for Bingley before someone else snatches him up is probably good advice considering the circumstances.
Ian wrote: "There may be a bit of town-versus-country here too. A family memoir describes Jane and her sister Cassandra walking the muddy roads of Steventon (the little town where they grew up). Of course, they accompanied each other, but there was no mention of a servant, besides not bothering with carriages for "short" local travel."I was wondering about that too. In a relatively safe, rural setting where everyone knows everyone these rules of etiquette may not have been followed as closely.
Still, there are new neighbors to impress and a marriage prospect to pursue, wouldn't one pay extra attention etiquette is followed?
Classics and the Western Canon
Books mentioned in this topic
The Prayers of Jane Austen (other topics)The Rise of Respectable Society: A Social History of Victorian Britain, 1830-1900 (other topics)
A Dictionary of Card Games (other topics)
Frederica (other topics)
The Lost Books of Jane Austen (other topics)
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The novel opens with a discussion between Mrs. Bennet and her husband upon the news that a nearby estate, Netherfield Park, has been let to a wealthy, single gentleman, Mr. Charles Bingley. Mrs. Bennet is all atwitter for the possible marriage prospects to one of their five daughters.
A ball is held in the nearby town of Maryton where the newcomers to the neighborhood are all introduced. Mr. Bingley immediately takes a shining to the eldest Bennet daughter, Jane, and he dances twice with her, much to the delight of her mother. Part of Bingley’s party is another gentleman, Mr. Darcy, who at first makes a good impression due to his large fortune, but soon the opinions sour. Mrs. Bennet later exclaims to her husband, “So high and so conceited there was no enduring him!”
The budding romance between Jane and Mr. Bingly is the topic of conversation among the families. Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, the Bennets’ second daughter, Mr. Darcy finds himself being intrigued by her. “I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”
A military regiment is staying in Maryton for the winter. The two younger Bennet girls, Catherine and Lydia, whose “minds were more vacant than their sisters’” talk of nothing else.
Jane receives an invitation from Caroline Bingley, Charles’s sister, to visit at Netherfield Park. However, on Mrs. Bennet’s scheming Jane is not allowed to take the carriage but has to walk the three miles. She encounters heavy rain and arrives drenched to the bone. She is ill and in bed and Elizabeth joins her to take care of her.
Mrs. Bennet with the two youngest daughters in tow visits to see Jane. The whole scene and her prattle is embarrassing and Elizabeth is relieved when the visit is over. This in turn brings out the haughtiness and disdain of the Bingley sisters, Louisa and Caroline, who like only Jane but think everyone else in the neighborhood beneath them. Darcy remains reserved, and only Charles Bingley is cordial to everyone.
The assembled group has lively conversations and Darcy is fighting his growing attraction to Elizabeth. Jane has recovered and the sisters’ wish to return home is thwarted by their mother’s continued scheming. They borrow Bingley’s carriage as their mother is not sending theirs, and receive a cold welcome from her. Mr. Bennet, however, is rather pleased, “The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.”