Yesterday, Diane Reynolds wrote the following in Janeites
& Austen-L: "I saw [Michael]
Moore in Trumpland via iTunes last
night and thought it was excellent..there is an Austenian quality in the way he
not just sides with, but deeply empathizes with, the underdog--what it feels
like to be Hillary: Clinton as Fanny Price, anyone? He never evokes Austen, but
shows us a woman who if she has not suffered the pains of tyranny (and perhaps
she has, giving up her last name and chased back as First Lady to the tea
parties) and neglect, has nonetheless been ridiculed, scorned, and
misunderstood; and he casts shame on the mockers too: all done in a comic
vein."
On your
recommendation, Diane, I’ll see Moore’s film in the near future. I firmly
believe that Hillary has had to develop layers of protective “skin” (extreme
caution and calculation) to survive the furious waves of misogyny and sexism
that her career of forthright, passionate expressions of feminism have long provoked.
I’m reminded of how Mary Wollstonecraft’s reputation was savagely assassinated in
the aftermath of her awful death in childbirth, when Godwin’s memoir revealed
too much about her fearless (Sir Thomas Bertram would have called it
“disgusting”) independence in her life choices.
Hillary will be as great a President as Obama, who’s
been pretty great. We must however expect that her presidency will be a
lightning rod nationally for an uptick of misogyny, the same way Obama's two terms led to the same vis
a vis white racism. When you rip off a scab covering a deep, septic abscess on
the soul of a nation that has been there infecting it for centuries, there will
of necessity be more pain in the short
term. But in the aftermath, we will be a significantly less racist and sexist
society, as children come of age in a country where a black or female face will
be all they’ve ever seen in the Oval Office.
As for
Trump, I had intended to write a full reply to your excellent earlier post,
Diane, about him as the doppelganger of the rich, misogynistic ogre in The Great Gatsby. However I got
sidetracked by attending the 2016 JASNA AGM, and so only wrote a brief reply. I
am so sick of Trump at this point, but I must now respond more fully by
pointing out and showing via textual quotations, that Jane Austen accurately
portrayed men just like Trump in several of her novels, but in one most of all
-- Northanger Abbey. By a curious
twist of historical fate, in her prophetic mode, JA split Trump into two male
ogres.
First,
I see half of Trump in the following six passages describing General Tilney:
ONE: An
older man with an eye for young women:
“Soon after their reaching the bottom of the set, Catherine perceived
herself to be earnestly regarded by a gentleman who stood among the lookers-on,
immediately behind her partner. He was a very handsome man, of a commanding
aspect, past the bloom, but not past the vigour of life; and with his eye still
directed towards her, she saw him presently address Mr. Tilney in a familiar
whisper. Confused by his notice, and blushing from the fear of its being
excited by something wrong in her appearance, she turned away her head. But
while she did so, the gentleman retreated, and her partner, coming nearer,
said, “I see that you guess what I have just been asked. That gentleman knows
your name, and you have a right to know his. It is General Tilney, my father.”
Catherine’s answer was only
“Oh!”—but it was an “Oh!” expressing everything needful: attention to his
words, and perfect reliance on their truth. With real interest and strong
admiration did her eye now follow the general, as he moved through the crowd,
and “How handsome a family they are!” was her secret remark. ….The
general attended her himself to the street-door, saying everything gallant as
they went downstairs, admiring the elasticity of her walk, which corresponded
exactly with the spirit of her dancing, and making her one of the most graceful
bows she had ever beheld, when they parted. Catherine, delighted by all that
had passed, proceeded gaily to Pulteney Street, walking, as she concluded, with
great elasticity, though she had never thought of it before.” END QUOTE
It is truly
disgusting to compare the above passages in which the General’s graying good
looks and graceful manners charm the naïve young Catherine, on the one hand, to
the way Donald Trump switched on a dime from his crude boasting about sexual
assault to Billy Bush to his smiling flattery of the soap star he has just been
ogling, on the other.
TWO: A
man with lots of money, who provides employment and a high standard of living
to a son:
“This
is a somewhat heavy call upon your brother’s fortitude,” observed the general
to Eleanor. “Woodston will make but a sombre appearance today.” “Is it a pretty place?” asked Catherine.
“What
say you, Eleanor? Speak your opinion, for ladies can best tell the taste of
ladies in regard to places as well as men. I think it would be acknowledged by
the most impartial eye to have many recommendations. The house stands among
fine meadows facing the south-east, with an excellent kitchen-garden in the
same aspect; the walls surrounding which I built and stocked myself about ten
years ago, for the benefit of my son. It is a family living, Miss Morland; and
the property in the place being chiefly my own, you may believe I take care
that it shall not be a bad one. Did Henry’s income depend solely on this
living, he would not be ill-provided for. Perhaps it may seem odd, that with
only two younger children, I should think any profession necessary for him; and
certainly there are moments when we could all wish him disengaged from every
tie of business. But though I may not exactly make converts of you young
ladies, I am sure your father, Miss Morland, would agree with me in thinking it
expedient to give every young man some employment. The money is nothing, it is
not an object, but employment is the thing. Even Frederick, my eldest son, you
see, who will perhaps inherit as considerable a landed property as any private
man in the county, has his profession.”
In the heartless cad Captain Tilney, do we not have a Regency Era
version of Donald Trump’s two despicable sons?
THREE: A
man with lots of money who loves showing off his YUUUGE estate to young women:
“Something
had been said the evening before of her being shown over the house, and he now
offered himself as her conductor; and though Catherine had hoped to explore it
accompanied only by his daughter, it was a proposal of too much happiness in
itself, under any circumstances, not to be gladly accepted; for she had been
already eighteen hours in the abbey, and had seen only a few of its rooms. The
netting-box, just leisurely drawn forth, was closed with joyful haste, and she
was ready to attend him in a moment. “And when they had gone over the house, he
promised himself moreover the pleasure of accompanying her into the shrubberies
and garden.” She curtsied her acquiescence. “But perhaps it might be more
agreeable to her to make those her first object. The weather was at present
favourable, and at this time of year the uncertainty was very great of its
continuing so. Which would she prefer? He was equally at her service. Which did
his daughter think would most accord with her fair friend’s wishes? But he
thought he could discern. Yes, he certainly read in Miss Morland’s eyes a
judicious desire of making use of the present smiling weather. But when did she
judge amiss? The abbey would be always safe and dry. He yielded implicitly, and
would fetch his hat and attend them in a moment.” He left the room, and
Catherine, with a disappointed, anxious face, began to speak of her
unwillingness that he should be taking them out of doors against his own
inclination, under a mistaken idea of pleasing her; but she was stopped by Miss
Tilney’s saying, with a little confusion, “I believe it will be wisest to take
the morning while it is so fine; and do not be uneasy on my father’s account;
he always walks out at this time of day.”
Catherine
did not exactly know how this was to be understood. Why was Miss Tilney
embarrassed? Could there be any unwillingness on the general’s side to show her
over the abbey? The proposal was his own. And was not it odd that he should
always take his walk so early?...She was struck, however, beyond her
expectation, by the grandeur of the abbey, as she saw it for the first time
from the lawn...Catherine had seen nothing to compare with it; and her feelings
of delight were so strong, that without waiting for any better authority, she
boldly burst forth in wonder and praise. The general listened with assenting
gratitude; and it seemed as if his own estimation of Northanger had waited
unfixed till that hour.
The
kitchen-garden was to be next admired, and he led the way to it across a small
portion of the park.
The
number of acres contained in this garden was such as Catherine could not listen
to without dismay, ...The walls seemed countless in number, endless in length;
a village of hot-houses seemed to arise among them, and a whole parish to be at
work within the enclosure. The general was flattered by her looks of surprise,
which told him almost as plainly, as he soon forced her to tell him in words,
that she had never seen any gardens at all equal to them before; and he then
modestly owned that, “without any ambition of that sort himself—without any
solicitude about it—he did believe them to be unrivalled in the kingdom. If he
had a hobby-horse, it was that. He loved a garden. Though careless enough in
most matters of eating, he loved good fruit—or if he did not, his friends and
children did. There were great vexations, however, attending such a garden as
his. The utmost care could not always secure the most valuable fruits. The
pinery had yielded only one hundred in the last year. Mr. Allen, he supposed,
must feel these inconveniences as well as himself.”…Having taken her into every
division, and led her under every wall, till she was heartily weary of seeing
and wondering, he suffered the girls at last to seize the advantage of an outer
door, and then expressing his wish to examine the effect of some recent
alterations about the tea-house, proposed it as no unpleasant extension of their
walk, if Miss Morland were not tired. …”
FOUR: A
lecherous older man with a dangerous interest in visiting, unannounced and
uninvited, the bedroom of his young female houseguest in the middle of the
night:
“Catherine
walked on to her chamber…Catherine thought she heard [Eleanor’s]
step in the gallery, and listened for its continuance; but all was silent.
Scarcely, however, had she convicted her fancy of error, when the noise of
something moving close to her door made her start; it seemed as if someone was
touching the very doorway—and in another moment a slight motion of the lock
proved that some hand must be on it. She trembled a little at the idea of
anyone’s approaching so cautiously; but resolving not to be again overcome by
trivial appearances of alarm, or misled by a raised imagination, she stepped
quietly forward, and opened the door. Eleanor, and only Eleanor, stood there.
Catherine’s spirits, however, were tranquillized but for an instant, for
Eleanor’s cheeks were pale, and her manner greatly agitated. Though evidently
intending to come in, it seemed an effort to enter the room, and a still
greater to speak when there. Catherine, supposing some uneasiness on Captain
Tilney’s account, could only express her concern by silent attention, obliged
her to be seated, rubbed her temples with lavender-water, and hung over her
with affectionate solicitude. “My dear Catherine, you must not—you must not
indeed—” were Eleanor’s first connected words. “I am quite well. This kindness
distracts me—I cannot bear it—I come to you on such an errand!” “Errand! To me!” “How shall I tell you! Oh! How shall I tell
you!” END QUOTE
Has the
possibility ever occurred to you that it was General Tilney’s hand on the lock
of Catherine’s bedroom door, but that Eleanor arrived at that very instant to
intercept her father, and then Eleanor knew that she had to send Catherine away
immediately, before the General could fulfill his dark intent to have his way
with Catherine while she lay sleeping in his home?
FIVE: A
late night devotee of paranoid right wing conspiracy theories about the
"dangerous" "unpatriotic" countrymen who don't agree with
his politics:
“After
an evening, the little variety and seeming length of which made her peculiarly
sensible of Henry’s importance among them, she was heartily glad to be
dismissed; though it was a look from the general not designed for her
observation which sent his daughter to the bell. When the butler would have lit
his master’s candle, however, he was forbidden. The latter was not going to
retire. “I have many pamphlets to finish,” said he to Catherine, “before I can
close my eyes, and perhaps may be poring over the affairs of the nation for
hours after you are asleep. Can either of us be more meetly employed? My eyes
will be blinding for the good of others, and yours preparing by rest for future
mischief.”
But
neither the business alleged, nor the magnificent compliment, could win
Catherine from thinking that some very different object must occasion so
serious a delay of proper repose. To be kept up for hours, after the family
were in bed, by stupid pamphlets was not very likely. There must be some deeper
cause: something was to be done which could be done only while the household
slept…”
Can’t
you just see General Tilney Tweeting at 3 am about Jacobin conspiracies against
God and England?
SIX: A
husband who did not treat his wife well:
“Catherine,
at any rate, heard enough to feel that in suspecting General Tilney of either
murdering or shutting up his wife, she had scarcely sinned against his
character, or magnified his cruelty.
And I
see the other half of Trump in John Thorpe, a man who boasts about his carriages
and horses as if it would impress a young woman of taste and intelligence; a
xenophobe, misogynist, anti-semite; and a sexual predator who thinks nothing of
falsely imprisoning a young woman in a small space from which she cannot
escape. Most Janeites can readily recall the passages in NA which illustrate
each of these repellant characteristics of John Thorpe.
And
guess what? General Tilney and John Thorpe do converse on at least two
occasions in the novel, both of them, not coincidentally, focused on their
shared, sexually predatory obsession with Catherine Morland -- so Jane Austen
herself already conjoined the two of them at the hip (or some nearby,
undersized part of their anatomy) as a collective portrait of the ultimate
sexual predator prowling the social landscape of everyday England.
It's
eerie to think about how apt these parallels are, and so it just provides me
further confirmation that men like Trump were all over the place in Jane
Austen's world – a world in which they did not have to worry about any legal
consequences for their horrific acts against women-- it was all
"normal", as is reflected ironically in Henry Tilney’s famous rant:
“If I
understand you rightly, you had formed a surmise of such horror as I have
hardly words to—Dear Miss Morland, consider the dreadful nature of the
suspicions you have entertained. What have you been judging from? Remember the
country and the age in which we live. Remember that we are English, that we are
Christians. Consult your own understanding, your own sense of the probable,
your own observation of what is passing around you. Does our education prepare
us for such atrocities? Do our laws connive at them? Could they be perpetrated
without being known, in a country like this, where social and literary
intercourse is on such a footing, where every man is surrounded by a
neighbourhood of voluntary spies, and where roads and newspapers lay everything
open? Dearest Miss Morland, what ideas have you been admitting?”
In
Austen’s England, domestic atrocities against women were an everyday
occurrence, and what we’ve learned about Donald Trump in the past few weeks
alerts us that it’s still all too common today, even in a country on the
threshold of electing its first female President. I believe Jane Austen would
be thrilled to see Hillary take on that awesome mantle, but she’d also be
warning us all against complacency.
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
on Twitter
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