"He received my letter, communicating our plans, before he left England, was much surprised of course, but is quite reconciled to them, & means to come to Steventon once more while Steventon is ours.-"
In case there was any doubt as to how the less influential members of the Austen family felt about the move to Bath, the above very clear statement must remove a great deal of that doubt. And the unstated but clear implication is that James Austen and his wife are not part of that "ours", they are dispossessors, evictors.
I cannot help but be reminded of the scene at the end of Fiddler on the Roof (which I will check tomorrow to see if it is a modern invention or was part of Sholom Aleichem's original stories), when the Tsar's local boss, who has known Tevye all their lives, gives Tevye and his fellow Jewish villagers the notice to get out of Anatevka forever within a couple of days. Tevye finds one shred of dignity he can still preserve in the face of this horrible act of injustice, when he tells his "old friend" the\ boss to get off of Tevye's land, while it is still Tevye's for those few
days.
As far as I can tell from a quick check online, the only Austen biographer who makes a specific comment about the plain meaning of this passage is Tomalin. Nokes quotes the passage, but does not otherwise take special note,and the few other biographers who even touch on this passage at all merely include it within a quotation of the entire paragraph and otherwise treat this passage as if it were no different from other routine gossip and family news.
I love, and totally agree with, Tomalin's very frank and straightforward discussion of JA's anger over being evicted from Steventon by brother James and his wife Mary. I was particularly pleased to see Tomalin connecting the dots back to the following passage in Letter 30, written less than a month before Letter 33, which I had overlooked a few weeks ago, because I did not realize exactly what was being described:
"The wedding-day is to be celebrated on the 16th because the 17th falls on Saturday -& a day or two before the 16th Mary will drive her sister to Ibthrop to find all the festivity she can in contriving for everybody's comfort, & being thwarted or teized by almost everybody's temper.-Fulwar, Eliza, & Tom Chute are to be of the party;-I know of nobody else.-I was asked, but declined it."
What this means, Tomalin has noticed, is that James and Mary were celebrating their 6th wedding anniversary, and it is hard to avoid the feeling that Mary is a kind of Mrs. Norris, a busybody who intrudes and oppresses family while claiming to be concerned about everyone else's comfort. And Tomalin sees meaning, and I agree with her, in JA's very matter of fact report of her refusal of this invitation--"I declined it"--nothing else need be said, CEA understands all the reasons why JA
declined it.
When you look at this series of letters from late 1800 through Feb. 1801, the theme of anger over being dispossessed is everywhere, but also the surreal and grotesque added layer of being forced into frequent contact with the dispossessors, who are celebrating this moment in Austen family history. No wonder the sarcasm drips from so many places in these letters, it was the hypocrisy about the injustice, the final indignity of being expected to grin and bear it, while being treated so abominably, that JA hated the most.
And isn't that the essence of the first half dozen chapters of S&S, the way that the three Dashwood women must endure Fanny's triumphal hypocrisy? Marianne can barely stifle her anger, and expressing it against Fanny.
Sound familiar? I can just imagine the lost epistolary version of Elinor and Marianne, with letters being written from Norland by Marianne which sound exactly like this series of letters written by JA from Steventon to CEA at Godmersham.
Cheers,
Arnie
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Emma Watson and Emma Woodhouse the "little" heroines of Jane Austen
In honor of the auctioning off of 2/3 of the existing manuscript pages (showing Jane Austen's own editing interlineations and deletions) of her novel fragment, The Watsons, at Sotheby's for nearly a million pounds, here are a couple of Watsonian tidbits about the heroine of The Watsons, Emma Watson, who of course shares her first name with Jane Austen's second most famous heroine (with Elizabeth Bennet her most famous heroine, of course), Emma Woodhouse.
First, I bet you did not know that Sir Francis Darwin, Charles’s son and editor of his father’s letters, in 1917, in a book entitled _Rustic Sounds and Other Studies in Literature and Natural History_, wrote at P. 74, in his essay about Jane Austen, the following comments about Emma Watson, the heroine of The Watsons:
“The heroine, Emma Watson, has no resemblance to Emma Woodhouse…in character she seems to me to have none of the charm which has given Fanny Price …various admirers. It is perhaps characteristic of her creator’s truth, that her heroine who is made known to us just as she arrives at her new home in uncomfortable surroundings and among unknown sisters, should be reserved and a little prim, and that we should be made to feel that this was not her complete character….”
Second, James Edward Austen-Leigh, in his 1870 Memoir of his famous aunt, expressed the following opinion about Emma Watson, and why Jane Austen discontinued writing The Watsons:
“My own idea is, but it is only a guess, that the author became aware of the evil of having placed her heroine too low, in such a position of poverty and obscurity as, though not necessarily connected with vulgarity, has a sad tendency to degenerate into it; and therefore, like a singer who has begun on too low a note, she discontinued the strain.”
And third and last, JEAL's comments are highly ironic when read alongside the comments of the Victorian novelist (and huge Janeite) Anthony Trollope about that other Austenian Emma, Miss Woodhouse:
"Emma, the heroine, is treated almost mercilessly. In every passage of the book, she is in fault for some folly, some vanity, some ignorance—or indeed for some meanness …Nowadays we dare not make our heroines so little.”
So raise a million-pound toast to the forgotten _and_ the famous Emma, who were both too "little", in ways that were perhaps not so different after all!
Cheers, ARNIE
First, I bet you did not know that Sir Francis Darwin, Charles’s son and editor of his father’s letters, in 1917, in a book entitled _Rustic Sounds and Other Studies in Literature and Natural History_, wrote at P. 74, in his essay about Jane Austen, the following comments about Emma Watson, the heroine of The Watsons:
“The heroine, Emma Watson, has no resemblance to Emma Woodhouse…in character she seems to me to have none of the charm which has given Fanny Price …various admirers. It is perhaps characteristic of her creator’s truth, that her heroine who is made known to us just as she arrives at her new home in uncomfortable surroundings and among unknown sisters, should be reserved and a little prim, and that we should be made to feel that this was not her complete character….”
Second, James Edward Austen-Leigh, in his 1870 Memoir of his famous aunt, expressed the following opinion about Emma Watson, and why Jane Austen discontinued writing The Watsons:
“My own idea is, but it is only a guess, that the author became aware of the evil of having placed her heroine too low, in such a position of poverty and obscurity as, though not necessarily connected with vulgarity, has a sad tendency to degenerate into it; and therefore, like a singer who has begun on too low a note, she discontinued the strain.”
And third and last, JEAL's comments are highly ironic when read alongside the comments of the Victorian novelist (and huge Janeite) Anthony Trollope about that other Austenian Emma, Miss Woodhouse:
"Emma, the heroine, is treated almost mercilessly. In every passage of the book, she is in fault for some folly, some vanity, some ignorance—or indeed for some meanness …Nowadays we dare not make our heroines so little.”
So raise a million-pound toast to the forgotten _and_ the famous Emma, who were both too "little", in ways that were perhaps not so different after all!
Cheers, ARNIE
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Mrs. Oliphant and her "modern" take in 1870 on Pride and Prejudice and Jane Austen
One comment that is often made to me when I make one of my subversive interpretations of a Jane Austen irony, is that I am imposing a 21st century sensibility on a late 18th century writer.
The following is a strong example to the contrary. Margaret Oliphant, a critic, write a famous article in March, 1870, in response to publication of James Edward Austen Leigh's Memoir about Jane Austen, and Oliphant had the following interesting comments.
First, she quoted JA's famous comments in Letter 79 about Elizabeth Bennet being "as delightful a creature as ever appeared in print", and then herself (Oliphant) referring to Mr. Collins as follows: "Whether it is not too cruel to make the wife of this delightful Mr. Collins share so completely in his creator's estimate of him is a different matter."
Oliphant then went on to rain on the romantic parade of Pride & Prejudice:
It was not so much that she thought Darcy deserved better than Lizzy, so much as it is of Oliphant thinking neither is special, they both deserve each other. Here are her exact words:
"....Elizabeth and Darcy, the one a young woman very much addicted to making speeches, very pert often, fond of having the last word, and prone to hasty judgments, with really nothing but her prettiness and a certain sharp smartness of talk to recommend her; and the other a very ordinary young man, quite like hosts of other young men, with that appearance of outward pride and /hauteur /which is so captivating to the youthful feminine imagination, though it must be admitted that he possesses an extraordinary amount of candour and real humility of mind under this exterior. It is curious to realise what a shock it must have given to the feelings of the young novelist when she found how little her favourite pair had to do with the success of their own story, and how entirely her secondary characters, in their various and vivid
originality, carried the day over her first."
That was a bit harsh on Lizzy, and yet it reflected an ability to read against the grain, and see Lizzy in a more objective way than is typical.
But then Oliphant was completely spot-on in what she says about James Stanier Clarke, the Prince Regent's librarian who corresponds with Jane Austen about _Emma_ and also makes suggestions for her next book's plot and characters.---Oliphant was way ahead of the curve way back in 1870 pointing out how Jane Austen dealt with the Mr. Collins-like Jame Stanier Clarke, I will let Oliphant say the rest herself:
"There is, however, one quaint instance of appreciation, recorded in the Memoir, which took place in her lifetime. The Prince-Regent admired Miss
Austen's novels much, and sent her word through her doctor that she might go and see Carlton House with all its riches—a permission which we cannot but think must have been more honourable than delightful. She took the trouble to do it, however, and there met a Mr. Clarke, librarian to his Royal Highness, who forthwith took her in hand. This gentleman, so far as can be judged by his letters, was a personage altogether after Miss Austen's heart, and who might have stepped out of one of her own books. He gives her permission unasked to dedicate one of her books to the Regent—a permission, by the way, which we do not clearly understand if she ever availed herself of; and, in addition, he
proposes to her a subject for a book. "I also, dear madam," writes this ingenious gentleman, "wished to be allowed to ask you to delineate in some future work the habits of life and character and enthusiasm of a clergyman who should pass his time between the metropolis and the country, who should be something like Beattie's minstrel—'Silent when glad, affectionate though shy. And in bis looks was most demurely sad; And now he laughed aloud, though none knew why.'
Neither Goldsmith, nor La Fontaine in his 'Tableau de Famille,' have, in my mind, quite delineated an English clergyman, at least of the present day — fond of and entirely engaged in literature, no man's enemy but his own. Pray, dear madam, think of these things."
This tempting, not to say solemn' suggestion did not move the novelist, which must have seemed a strange fact to Mr. Clarke. She answers him with admirable gravity, demurely setting herself forth as "the most unlearned and uninformed female who ever dared to be an authoress," and consequently quite incapable of "drawing such a clergyman as you gave the sketch of. . . . Such a man's conversation," she adds, "must at times be on subjects of science and philosophy, of which I know nothing, or at least be occasionally abundant in quotations and allusions which a woman who, like me, knows only her own mother tongue, and has read little in that, would be totally without the power of giving.''......
[And here's the best part]
...How Miss Austen must have chuckled secretly over this wonderful suggestion! how deeply tempted she must have been to transfer the librarian himself, if not his "enthusiastic clergyman," to her canvas! But even this answer does not discourage Mr. Clarke. Some time after he was appointed English secretary to Prince Leopold, who was then about to be married to the Princess Charlotte; and he does not lose a moment apparently in venturing a new suggestion, which was that "an historical romance illustrative of the august house of Cobourg would just now be very interesting." Mr. Collins himself could not have done better. His clever correspondent exults over him; she gives him the gravest answers, and draws her victim out . She is quite inferior to the undertaking, she tells him with comic composure. Mr. Austen Leigh, however, does not seem
to see the fun, but gravely comments upon it, observing that Mr. Clarke should have recollected the warning of the wise man, "Force not the current of the river," a conclusion scarcely less amusing than the preceding narrative. It appears, however, that this was by no means a singular occurrence...."
So even though Oliphant deserves a small black star for her failure to see any
immortality of the battle of the sexes between Lizzy and Darcy, I think she is at least partially redeemed by so beautifully skewering the completely cluelessness of both James Stanier Clarke _and_ JEAL--and perhaps that is not surprising, given how well Oliphant "got" Mr. Collins!
But...what never occurred to Oliphant is the possibility that Mr. Clarke _did_ make an unheralded appearance in JA's novels after all.
Cheers, ARNIE
The following is a strong example to the contrary. Margaret Oliphant, a critic, write a famous article in March, 1870, in response to publication of James Edward Austen Leigh's Memoir about Jane Austen, and Oliphant had the following interesting comments.
First, she quoted JA's famous comments in Letter 79 about Elizabeth Bennet being "as delightful a creature as ever appeared in print", and then herself (Oliphant) referring to Mr. Collins as follows: "Whether it is not too cruel to make the wife of this delightful Mr. Collins share so completely in his creator's estimate of him is a different matter."
Oliphant then went on to rain on the romantic parade of Pride & Prejudice:
It was not so much that she thought Darcy deserved better than Lizzy, so much as it is of Oliphant thinking neither is special, they both deserve each other. Here are her exact words:
"....Elizabeth and Darcy, the one a young woman very much addicted to making speeches, very pert often, fond of having the last word, and prone to hasty judgments, with really nothing but her prettiness and a certain sharp smartness of talk to recommend her; and the other a very ordinary young man, quite like hosts of other young men, with that appearance of outward pride and /hauteur /which is so captivating to the youthful feminine imagination, though it must be admitted that he possesses an extraordinary amount of candour and real humility of mind under this exterior. It is curious to realise what a shock it must have given to the feelings of the young novelist when she found how little her favourite pair had to do with the success of their own story, and how entirely her secondary characters, in their various and vivid
originality, carried the day over her first."
That was a bit harsh on Lizzy, and yet it reflected an ability to read against the grain, and see Lizzy in a more objective way than is typical.
But then Oliphant was completely spot-on in what she says about James Stanier Clarke, the Prince Regent's librarian who corresponds with Jane Austen about _Emma_ and also makes suggestions for her next book's plot and characters.---Oliphant was way ahead of the curve way back in 1870 pointing out how Jane Austen dealt with the Mr. Collins-like Jame Stanier Clarke, I will let Oliphant say the rest herself:
"There is, however, one quaint instance of appreciation, recorded in the Memoir, which took place in her lifetime. The Prince-Regent admired Miss
Austen's novels much, and sent her word through her doctor that she might go and see Carlton House with all its riches—a permission which we cannot but think must have been more honourable than delightful. She took the trouble to do it, however, and there met a Mr. Clarke, librarian to his Royal Highness, who forthwith took her in hand. This gentleman, so far as can be judged by his letters, was a personage altogether after Miss Austen's heart, and who might have stepped out of one of her own books. He gives her permission unasked to dedicate one of her books to the Regent—a permission, by the way, which we do not clearly understand if she ever availed herself of; and, in addition, he
proposes to her a subject for a book. "I also, dear madam," writes this ingenious gentleman, "wished to be allowed to ask you to delineate in some future work the habits of life and character and enthusiasm of a clergyman who should pass his time between the metropolis and the country, who should be something like Beattie's minstrel—'Silent when glad, affectionate though shy. And in bis looks was most demurely sad; And now he laughed aloud, though none knew why.'
Neither Goldsmith, nor La Fontaine in his 'Tableau de Famille,' have, in my mind, quite delineated an English clergyman, at least of the present day — fond of and entirely engaged in literature, no man's enemy but his own. Pray, dear madam, think of these things."
This tempting, not to say solemn' suggestion did not move the novelist, which must have seemed a strange fact to Mr. Clarke. She answers him with admirable gravity, demurely setting herself forth as "the most unlearned and uninformed female who ever dared to be an authoress," and consequently quite incapable of "drawing such a clergyman as you gave the sketch of. . . . Such a man's conversation," she adds, "must at times be on subjects of science and philosophy, of which I know nothing, or at least be occasionally abundant in quotations and allusions which a woman who, like me, knows only her own mother tongue, and has read little in that, would be totally without the power of giving.''......
[And here's the best part]
...How Miss Austen must have chuckled secretly over this wonderful suggestion! how deeply tempted she must have been to transfer the librarian himself, if not his "enthusiastic clergyman," to her canvas! But even this answer does not discourage Mr. Clarke. Some time after he was appointed English secretary to Prince Leopold, who was then about to be married to the Princess Charlotte; and he does not lose a moment apparently in venturing a new suggestion, which was that "an historical romance illustrative of the august house of Cobourg would just now be very interesting." Mr. Collins himself could not have done better. His clever correspondent exults over him; she gives him the gravest answers, and draws her victim out . She is quite inferior to the undertaking, she tells him with comic composure. Mr. Austen Leigh, however, does not seem
to see the fun, but gravely comments upon it, observing that Mr. Clarke should have recollected the warning of the wise man, "Force not the current of the river," a conclusion scarcely less amusing than the preceding narrative. It appears, however, that this was by no means a singular occurrence...."
So even though Oliphant deserves a small black star for her failure to see any
immortality of the battle of the sexes between Lizzy and Darcy, I think she is at least partially redeemed by so beautifully skewering the completely cluelessness of both James Stanier Clarke _and_ JEAL--and perhaps that is not surprising, given how well Oliphant "got" Mr. Collins!
But...what never occurred to Oliphant is the possibility that Mr. Clarke _did_ make an unheralded appearance in JA's novels after all.
Cheers, ARNIE
The "real truth" in Pride and Prejudice
As part of my recent meanderings through Pride and Prejudice, locating passages which are ambiguous in interesting ways, I just stumbled across the _mother_ (or perhaps I should say rather, the _aunt_) of all ambiguous passages in the novel, this one being in Chapter 46. It is directly connected to the others I have been discussing, all having to do, in some way or another, with Mrs. Gardiner's perceptions and conjectures regarding Lizzy and Darcy.
Here it is, it is very short, it occurs right after the Gardiners have been hastily recalled to the Lambton Inn where Lizzy has been reduced to emotional rubble by the one-two punch of reading Jane's letters, and then being unable to avoid blurting out the whole Lydia nightmare to Darcy. Aunt Gardiner is also shocked, and then we read:
"But what is to be done about Pemberley?" cried Mrs. Gardiner. "John told us Mr. Darcy was here when you sent for us; was it so?"
"Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement. /That/ is all settled."
"What is all settled?" repeated the other, as she ran into her room to prepare. "And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!"
But wishes were vain, or at least could only serve to amuse her in the hurry and confusion of the following hour."
Can you see the humongous, stupefyingly gargantuan ambiguity in this passage?
Hint--think about what Mrs. Gardiner means about Lizzy disclosing "the real truth"? And why does she ask what is "all settled"? Once you come up with _one_ answer, keep thinking about it till you come up with a _second_ answer!
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I believe that almost all Janeites who have read this passage and thought about what Mrs. Gardiner means, have concluded that Mrs. Gardiner is wondering whether Lizzy has disclosed _to Darcy_ the real truth about Lydia's elopement with Wickham, and they are not incorrect, as that is an eminently plausible, indeed compelling interpretation---there would seem to be no reason to look beyond it.
Except....that another interpretation invaded my brain as I reread that passage earlier this evening, while sitting in a medical waiting room killing time on my IPhone, and it was even more compelling--which is that Mrs. Gardiner can, with equal if not greater plausibility, also be read as wondering whether Lizzy is upon such terms with Darcy as to disclose the real truth _to Mrs. Gardiner_, which is the "real truth" of Lizzy and Darcy's (conjectured by Mrs. Gardiner, but not real) _engagement_ ....to be married!
I urge you to go back now and reread the passage a few times, and while doing so keep in mind that both before and after that passage, Mrs. Gardiner explicitly wonders about the nature of Lizzy and Darcy's relationship. In particular, think about Mrs. Gardiner's letter to Lizzy written a few chapters later, in which she quite explicitly expresses her puzzlement to Lizzy as to Lizzy's being in the dark about the resolution of the Lydia-Wickham fracas. And most of all keep in mind the climactic scene of the novel, the confrontation between Lizzy and Lady Catherine, which arises precisely because Lady Catherine believes (as Mrs. Gardiner also believes) that Lizzy and Darcy are........ _engaged_!
Jane Austen is such a mistress of hiding things in plain sight, that she herself, as an author, can get away with "disclosing" the word "engagement" in a sentence concerning Lizzy and Darcy, with all that context, and yet have practically no Janeites for 200 years ever notice the double meaning of "engagement" in regard to them!
By the way, I wrote "practically no Janeites' because, after a diligent search in all my usual nooks and crannies on the Internet, I found no scholarly interpretations to the effect of what I came up with, above, but I did manage to find _one_ non-scholarly but very sharp Janeite who saw the double meaning of "engagement" in Lizzy's words, just as I did, in another discussion group several years ago, so she has priority and I have duly noted this.
So, what do you think?
Cheers, ARNIE
sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com
P.S.:
There is one last wonderful irony in the alternative interpretation I have presented, which is that we can upon next _rereading_ of P&P now see a whole new significance in the following passage from Chapter 26:
"In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into _engagements_ with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best."
Lizzy was talking about Wickham in Chapter 26, but Aunt Gardiner thought Lizzy was talking about _Darcy_ in Chapter 46!
Here it is, it is very short, it occurs right after the Gardiners have been hastily recalled to the Lambton Inn where Lizzy has been reduced to emotional rubble by the one-two punch of reading Jane's letters, and then being unable to avoid blurting out the whole Lydia nightmare to Darcy. Aunt Gardiner is also shocked, and then we read:
"But what is to be done about Pemberley?" cried Mrs. Gardiner. "John told us Mr. Darcy was here when you sent for us; was it so?"
"Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement. /That/ is all settled."
"What is all settled?" repeated the other, as she ran into her room to prepare. "And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!"
But wishes were vain, or at least could only serve to amuse her in the hurry and confusion of the following hour."
Can you see the humongous, stupefyingly gargantuan ambiguity in this passage?
Hint--think about what Mrs. Gardiner means about Lizzy disclosing "the real truth"? And why does she ask what is "all settled"? Once you come up with _one_ answer, keep thinking about it till you come up with a _second_ answer!
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I believe that almost all Janeites who have read this passage and thought about what Mrs. Gardiner means, have concluded that Mrs. Gardiner is wondering whether Lizzy has disclosed _to Darcy_ the real truth about Lydia's elopement with Wickham, and they are not incorrect, as that is an eminently plausible, indeed compelling interpretation---there would seem to be no reason to look beyond it.
Except....that another interpretation invaded my brain as I reread that passage earlier this evening, while sitting in a medical waiting room killing time on my IPhone, and it was even more compelling--which is that Mrs. Gardiner can, with equal if not greater plausibility, also be read as wondering whether Lizzy is upon such terms with Darcy as to disclose the real truth _to Mrs. Gardiner_, which is the "real truth" of Lizzy and Darcy's (conjectured by Mrs. Gardiner, but not real) _engagement_ ....to be married!
I urge you to go back now and reread the passage a few times, and while doing so keep in mind that both before and after that passage, Mrs. Gardiner explicitly wonders about the nature of Lizzy and Darcy's relationship. In particular, think about Mrs. Gardiner's letter to Lizzy written a few chapters later, in which she quite explicitly expresses her puzzlement to Lizzy as to Lizzy's being in the dark about the resolution of the Lydia-Wickham fracas. And most of all keep in mind the climactic scene of the novel, the confrontation between Lizzy and Lady Catherine, which arises precisely because Lady Catherine believes (as Mrs. Gardiner also believes) that Lizzy and Darcy are........ _engaged_!
Jane Austen is such a mistress of hiding things in plain sight, that she herself, as an author, can get away with "disclosing" the word "engagement" in a sentence concerning Lizzy and Darcy, with all that context, and yet have practically no Janeites for 200 years ever notice the double meaning of "engagement" in regard to them!
By the way, I wrote "practically no Janeites' because, after a diligent search in all my usual nooks and crannies on the Internet, I found no scholarly interpretations to the effect of what I came up with, above, but I did manage to find _one_ non-scholarly but very sharp Janeite who saw the double meaning of "engagement" in Lizzy's words, just as I did, in another discussion group several years ago, so she has priority and I have duly noted this.
So, what do you think?
Cheers, ARNIE
sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com
P.S.:
There is one last wonderful irony in the alternative interpretation I have presented, which is that we can upon next _rereading_ of P&P now see a whole new significance in the following passage from Chapter 26:
"In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into _engagements_ with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best."
Lizzy was talking about Wickham in Chapter 26, but Aunt Gardiner thought Lizzy was talking about _Darcy_ in Chapter 46!
Another passage in P&P with ambiguous "she's"
I just found another "pronomially" ambiguous passage in P&P which I believe JA had in mind when she wrote her famous "I do not write for such..." line in her letter to Cassandra in January 1813.
In Chapter 25, Lizzy and aunt Gardiner discuss the latter's plan to invite Jane to visit her in London, to help Jane get over Bingley, leading to this exchange:
"I hope," added Mrs. Gardiner, "that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town, all our connexions are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her."
"And that is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may, perhaps, have heard of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a month's ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without him."
"So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane correspond with the sister? She will not be able to help calling."
"She will drop the acquaintance entirely."
[And that's when we come to the ambiguous passage]:
But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley's being withheld from seeing Jane, SHE felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced HER, on examination, that SHE did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes SHE thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane's attractions.
END OF EXCERPT
So, the question is, is Elizabeth or Mrs. Gardiner the "she" who felt a solicitude, and who did not consider it entirely hopeless, and thought it
probable, that Bingley and Jane might be "reactivated" as a romantic couple?
If it Elizabeth, then it means that she was talking a hard line, but inside she was very uncertain. If is Mrs. Gardiner, then it means that despite hearing Elizabeth's hard line, Mrs. Gardiner remains hopeful.
My personal opinion is that it is _both_, which are not inconsistent, but
instead are _complementary_ interpretations. If it is both of them, then it means that they are both hopeful for Jane.
Cheers,
Arnie
P.S.:
Judith Learmann then responded in Austen L, and here is our exchange:
[Judith] "But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley's being withheld from seeing Jane, SHE felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced HER, on examination, that SHE did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes SHE thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane's attractions. "END OF EXCERPT
(Arnie) So, the question is, is Elizabeth or Mrs. Gardiner the "she" who felt a solicitude, and who did not consider it entirely hopeless, and thought it probable, that Bingley and Jane might be "reactivated" as a romantic couple?
(Judith) I would read this as Elizabeth's thoughts. She is the one privy to Jane's feelings about Bingley and her hurt over Caroline's letter. Elizabeth still holds out hope that if Bingley could see Jane before too much time passes, that would be enough to end his friends' influence over him.
(Arnie again)
No question, Judith, that Elizabeth is the primary candidate to be "she", but there is a good alternative case for Mrs. Gardiner, too:
1. We know, in various ways, that Aunt Gardiner is as close to Jane as she is to Elizabeth, and cares about her elder niece as much as she cares for Lizzy.
2. At several other points in the novel, we are inside Aunt Gardiner's head. In fact, I think that we are in Aunt Gardiner's head more than we are in Charlotte Lucas's and Darcy's heads put together (and I believe the three of them are the only characters _other than_ Lizzy to whose _thoughts_ we are unambiguously made privy by the narrator). So it would fit to have the above excerpt as _another_ bit of narration which can be plausibly attributed to Aunt Gardiner.
3. We are not told whether Aunt Gardiner and Jane have had any tetes a tetes prior to the one between Lizzy and her aunt, but I think it is very plausible that they have, and that Aunt Gardiner is keeping from Lizzy whatever confidences Jane has shared with he aunt. Lizzy keeps secrets from Jane, right? So why would we be surprised if Jane kept secrets from Lizzy? Jane might have wished to keep up a brave face for Lizzy, but might have confided worries to her aunt that she would not confide to Lizzy. Also very plausible, I think.
4. Aunt Gardiner knows Jane well enough to correctly predict that Jane will call on Caroline Bingley in London--that is exactly what Jane does once she is in London, and I can even imagine Aunt Gardiner encouraging her to do this, hoping that this will somehow throw Jane into Bingley's path.
And, perhaps most important, I think reading the above excerpt as referring to both Lizzy and Aunt Gardiner makes it a more complex, interesting little scene. It suddenly takes on a whole new layer of ironic complexity, if we see _both_ Lizzy and Aunt Gardiner as not wanting to risk appearing _foolishly_ hopeful for Jane's prospects with Bingley, and so both speak pessimistically, while inside both are romantics who continue to hold out hope despite all evidence to the contrary. That is a classic Austenian irony, don't you think?
Plus, it would be a tiny narrative tour de force, a description that conveys the inner state of two characters in two ways. And I think that the novel is filled with these tiny tours de force!
Anyway, thanks for responding on this point, perhaps your answer will cause others to chime in too!
-A.P.
In Chapter 25, Lizzy and aunt Gardiner discuss the latter's plan to invite Jane to visit her in London, to help Jane get over Bingley, leading to this exchange:
"I hope," added Mrs. Gardiner, "that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town, all our connexions are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her."
"And that is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may, perhaps, have heard of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a month's ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without him."
"So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane correspond with the sister? She will not be able to help calling."
"She will drop the acquaintance entirely."
[And that's when we come to the ambiguous passage]:
But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley's being withheld from seeing Jane, SHE felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced HER, on examination, that SHE did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes SHE thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane's attractions.
END OF EXCERPT
So, the question is, is Elizabeth or Mrs. Gardiner the "she" who felt a solicitude, and who did not consider it entirely hopeless, and thought it
probable, that Bingley and Jane might be "reactivated" as a romantic couple?
If it Elizabeth, then it means that she was talking a hard line, but inside she was very uncertain. If is Mrs. Gardiner, then it means that despite hearing Elizabeth's hard line, Mrs. Gardiner remains hopeful.
My personal opinion is that it is _both_, which are not inconsistent, but
instead are _complementary_ interpretations. If it is both of them, then it means that they are both hopeful for Jane.
Cheers,
Arnie
P.S.:
Judith Learmann then responded in Austen L, and here is our exchange:
[Judith] "But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley's being withheld from seeing Jane, SHE felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced HER, on examination, that SHE did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes SHE thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane's attractions. "END OF EXCERPT
(Arnie) So, the question is, is Elizabeth or Mrs. Gardiner the "she" who felt a solicitude, and who did not consider it entirely hopeless, and thought it probable, that Bingley and Jane might be "reactivated" as a romantic couple?
(Judith) I would read this as Elizabeth's thoughts. She is the one privy to Jane's feelings about Bingley and her hurt over Caroline's letter. Elizabeth still holds out hope that if Bingley could see Jane before too much time passes, that would be enough to end his friends' influence over him.
(Arnie again)
No question, Judith, that Elizabeth is the primary candidate to be "she", but there is a good alternative case for Mrs. Gardiner, too:
1. We know, in various ways, that Aunt Gardiner is as close to Jane as she is to Elizabeth, and cares about her elder niece as much as she cares for Lizzy.
2. At several other points in the novel, we are inside Aunt Gardiner's head. In fact, I think that we are in Aunt Gardiner's head more than we are in Charlotte Lucas's and Darcy's heads put together (and I believe the three of them are the only characters _other than_ Lizzy to whose _thoughts_ we are unambiguously made privy by the narrator). So it would fit to have the above excerpt as _another_ bit of narration which can be plausibly attributed to Aunt Gardiner.
3. We are not told whether Aunt Gardiner and Jane have had any tetes a tetes prior to the one between Lizzy and her aunt, but I think it is very plausible that they have, and that Aunt Gardiner is keeping from Lizzy whatever confidences Jane has shared with he aunt. Lizzy keeps secrets from Jane, right? So why would we be surprised if Jane kept secrets from Lizzy? Jane might have wished to keep up a brave face for Lizzy, but might have confided worries to her aunt that she would not confide to Lizzy. Also very plausible, I think.
4. Aunt Gardiner knows Jane well enough to correctly predict that Jane will call on Caroline Bingley in London--that is exactly what Jane does once she is in London, and I can even imagine Aunt Gardiner encouraging her to do this, hoping that this will somehow throw Jane into Bingley's path.
And, perhaps most important, I think reading the above excerpt as referring to both Lizzy and Aunt Gardiner makes it a more complex, interesting little scene. It suddenly takes on a whole new layer of ironic complexity, if we see _both_ Lizzy and Aunt Gardiner as not wanting to risk appearing _foolishly_ hopeful for Jane's prospects with Bingley, and so both speak pessimistically, while inside both are romantics who continue to hold out hope despite all evidence to the contrary. That is a classic Austenian irony, don't you think?
Plus, it would be a tiny narrative tour de force, a description that conveys the inner state of two characters in two ways. And I think that the novel is filled with these tiny tours de force!
Anyway, thanks for responding on this point, perhaps your answer will cause others to chime in too!
-A.P.
Another intriguingly ambiguous passage in Ch. 48 of P&P
I have intermittently been following up on my post of several days ago about the passage in Ch. 52 of P&P regarding Lizzy's "pleasure though mixed with regret" regarding her aunt & uncle's perception that she and Darcy were already involved....
http://sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2011/07/miss-elizabeth-bennet-regrets-web-of.html
... in which I concluded that Lizzy's "regret" was ambiguous, and could be plausibly understood in two very different ways.
In that regard I was just rereading Ch. 48 and came across _another_ passage which I found very difficult--and intriguing-- to interpret, and which, after I worked it out, I _also_ believe to be (intentionally) ambiguous.
But I warn you, this message will only be intriguing to those obsessives (like myself) who enjoy minute analysis of textual intricacy and ambiguity, and are willing to invest sufficient time and attention to get a handle on the intricacy. Otherwise, it will drive you crazy!
Here is the relevant passage in Chapter 48, consisting of two short paragraphs:
"Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her Derbyshire friend that had attended her from that part of the world. His name had never been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of their being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing. Elizabeth had received none since her return that could come from Pemberley.
The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse for the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from /that/, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought, one sleepless night out of two." END OF EXCERPT
The first paragraph describes Mrs. Gardiner's continuing perplexity regarding the relationship between Lizzy and Darcy, and it all seems very straightforward, except for the curious turn of phrase "Elizabeth had received [no letter from Darcy] since her return that _could come_ from Pemberley".
What I infer from JA's writing "could come" rather than "came" is that Mrs. Gardiner has been quietly _spying_ on Lizzy! Aunt Gardiner for some reason does not want to simply ask Lizzy if she has received any letters from Darcy, and the reason seems to be that Aunt Gardiner does not believe Lizzy will tell her, even if Lizzy _has_ received a letter from Darcy! Think about it.....Aunt Gardiner must have been watching all the mail deliveries like a hawk as they arrive, perhaps also checking in with Hill or the other servants as well, and that is how she knows that Lizzy _could not_ have secretly received any letter from Darcy unbeknownst to the family, or, at least, unbeknownst to Aunt Gardiner.
While we all know that Aunt Gardiner is like a second mother to Lizzy, very loving and involved in her life, and therefore she has every reason to be extremely interested in Lizzy's conjectured secret relationship with Darcy, this strikes a slightly jarring note, doesn't it, to think that Aunt Gardiner would engage in such a covert surveillance operation as this on Lizzy? Keep that in mind as we now turn to the second paragraph, which is where I detect a major ambiguity.
The second paragraph is one of the many passages in P&P that I think JA had very specifically in mind when she wrote to CEA upon publication of P&P:
"There are a few Typical errors--& a 'said he' or a 'said she' would sometimes make the Dialogue more immediately clear--but 'I do not write for such dull Elves As have not a great deal of Ingenuity themselves.'"
This is a case where some ingenuity is required in order to correctly match up each"her" and "she" with the right woman in each instance.
Here is my best attempt at a normative interpretation of the second paragraph, with my attributions and rephrasings in brackets:
"The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse [i.e., explanation] for the lowness of her [i.e., Lizzy's] spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from /that/, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own [i.e. Mrs. Gardiner's] feelings, was [therefore] perfectly aware that, had she [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner] known nothing of Darcy, she [i.e., Lizzy] could have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her [i.e., Lizzy], she [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner] thought, one sleepless night out of two."
This passage, as I have decoded it, above, is a kind of syntactical Chinese Box, with Aunt Gardiner first conjecturing that Lizzy understood that Aunt Gardiner believed Lizzy and Darcy were already involved, and therefore (so Aunt Gardiner continues to conjecture about LIzzy's thoughts) Lizzy's sleeplessness over Lydia's elopement must have been _exacerbated_ by Lizzy's knowing that Aunt Gardiner believed LIzzy and Darcy were already involved. Whew!
Very intricate syntactically, but in the end, very straightforward and consistent in terms of the content. Aunt Gardiner is concerned about Lizzy's low spirits, and feels badly that Lizzy's knowing Aunt Gardiner has seen Lizzy and Darcy together--and has been bowled over by Darcy's positive transformation---would make Lizzy now feel even worse, because Lydia's infamy has now closed that door for Lizzy forever. Mr. Bennet jokes about this very point in an insensitive way that makes him quite hateful in that moment, but Aunt Gardiner is the opposite of her brother in law--she is very empathic and feels regret that she has inadvertently added to Lizzy's distress, by its being extended to include Aunt Gardiner, albeit in this totally innocent way. And this empathy is what justifies Aunt Gardiner in her own mind for engaging in a surveillance operation, she worries that somehow Lizzy is getting herself into an intrigue with Darcy that will end badly in some way, and she feels she needs to help Lizzy whether Lizzy asks for help or not.
This straightforward, consistent interpretation is only accessible to the reader who stops and works all of it out step by step, like solving a math equation! Whereas the breeziness of the language inclines almost all readers to blow right by this passage quickly without even noticing the intricacy.
Such is the miracle of P&P--which is both light bright and sparkling, and _also_ Byzantine in its secret complexity, but.....that's not _all_ I see in that second excerpted paragraph!
As a result of my struggles to decode this passage, I was also able to come up with a _second_ interpretation, with a very different, and much more mysterious, meaning, which would go as follows:
"The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse [i.e., explanation] for the lowness of her [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner's] spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from /that/, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own [i.e. Mrs. Gardiner's] feelings, was [therefore] perfectly aware that, had she [i.e., Lizzy] known nothing of Darcy, she [i.e., Mrs Gardiner] could have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner], she [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner] thought, one sleepless night out of two."
That second interpretation would turn this paragraph topsy-turvy, from being entirely about Aunt Gardiner's conjectures about Lizzy and Darcy, into an acutely self-conscious meditation by Mrs. Gardiner, in which her somewhat nosy conjectures about Lizzy and Darcy have abruptly morphed into Aunt Gardiner wondering whether Lizzy is, in turn, making conjectures about Aunt Gardiner's low spirits!
In this interpretation, it's as though Aunt Gardiner was concealing something from Lizzy, something that Aunt Gardiner is very upset about, and she is worried that Lizzy might figure it out, or, even worse, might already know about? In this reading, it is Aunt Gardiner, too, and not merely Lizzy, who has been unable to sleep the past two nights, because it is Aunt Gardiner, too, and not merely Lizzy, who is experiencing dread over Lydia's infamy, and Aunt Gardiner believes that Lizzy is aware of Aunt Gardiner's feelings in this regard.
And...for some reason known to Aunt Gardiner but unknown to Lizzy--or to the reader---Lizzy's having a relationship with Darcy is making Aunt Gardiner's ability to bear the dread of Lydia's infamy a _lot_ harder! And perhaps this unknown reason is what really motivates Aunt Gardiner to spy on Lizzy's incoming mail?
And there I will stop......
Cheers, ARNIE
http://sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2011/07/miss-elizabeth-bennet-regrets-web-of.html
... in which I concluded that Lizzy's "regret" was ambiguous, and could be plausibly understood in two very different ways.
In that regard I was just rereading Ch. 48 and came across _another_ passage which I found very difficult--and intriguing-- to interpret, and which, after I worked it out, I _also_ believe to be (intentionally) ambiguous.
But I warn you, this message will only be intriguing to those obsessives (like myself) who enjoy minute analysis of textual intricacy and ambiguity, and are willing to invest sufficient time and attention to get a handle on the intricacy. Otherwise, it will drive you crazy!
Here is the relevant passage in Chapter 48, consisting of two short paragraphs:
"Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her Derbyshire friend that had attended her from that part of the world. His name had never been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of their being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing. Elizabeth had received none since her return that could come from Pemberley.
The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse for the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from /that/, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought, one sleepless night out of two." END OF EXCERPT
The first paragraph describes Mrs. Gardiner's continuing perplexity regarding the relationship between Lizzy and Darcy, and it all seems very straightforward, except for the curious turn of phrase "Elizabeth had received [no letter from Darcy] since her return that _could come_ from Pemberley".
What I infer from JA's writing "could come" rather than "came" is that Mrs. Gardiner has been quietly _spying_ on Lizzy! Aunt Gardiner for some reason does not want to simply ask Lizzy if she has received any letters from Darcy, and the reason seems to be that Aunt Gardiner does not believe Lizzy will tell her, even if Lizzy _has_ received a letter from Darcy! Think about it.....Aunt Gardiner must have been watching all the mail deliveries like a hawk as they arrive, perhaps also checking in with Hill or the other servants as well, and that is how she knows that Lizzy _could not_ have secretly received any letter from Darcy unbeknownst to the family, or, at least, unbeknownst to Aunt Gardiner.
While we all know that Aunt Gardiner is like a second mother to Lizzy, very loving and involved in her life, and therefore she has every reason to be extremely interested in Lizzy's conjectured secret relationship with Darcy, this strikes a slightly jarring note, doesn't it, to think that Aunt Gardiner would engage in such a covert surveillance operation as this on Lizzy? Keep that in mind as we now turn to the second paragraph, which is where I detect a major ambiguity.
The second paragraph is one of the many passages in P&P that I think JA had very specifically in mind when she wrote to CEA upon publication of P&P:
"There are a few Typical errors--& a 'said he' or a 'said she' would sometimes make the Dialogue more immediately clear--but 'I do not write for such dull Elves As have not a great deal of Ingenuity themselves.'"
This is a case where some ingenuity is required in order to correctly match up each"her" and "she" with the right woman in each instance.
Here is my best attempt at a normative interpretation of the second paragraph, with my attributions and rephrasings in brackets:
"The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse [i.e., explanation] for the lowness of her [i.e., Lizzy's] spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from /that/, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own [i.e. Mrs. Gardiner's] feelings, was [therefore] perfectly aware that, had she [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner] known nothing of Darcy, she [i.e., Lizzy] could have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her [i.e., Lizzy], she [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner] thought, one sleepless night out of two."
This passage, as I have decoded it, above, is a kind of syntactical Chinese Box, with Aunt Gardiner first conjecturing that Lizzy understood that Aunt Gardiner believed Lizzy and Darcy were already involved, and therefore (so Aunt Gardiner continues to conjecture about LIzzy's thoughts) Lizzy's sleeplessness over Lydia's elopement must have been _exacerbated_ by Lizzy's knowing that Aunt Gardiner believed LIzzy and Darcy were already involved. Whew!
Very intricate syntactically, but in the end, very straightforward and consistent in terms of the content. Aunt Gardiner is concerned about Lizzy's low spirits, and feels badly that Lizzy's knowing Aunt Gardiner has seen Lizzy and Darcy together--and has been bowled over by Darcy's positive transformation---would make Lizzy now feel even worse, because Lydia's infamy has now closed that door for Lizzy forever. Mr. Bennet jokes about this very point in an insensitive way that makes him quite hateful in that moment, but Aunt Gardiner is the opposite of her brother in law--she is very empathic and feels regret that she has inadvertently added to Lizzy's distress, by its being extended to include Aunt Gardiner, albeit in this totally innocent way. And this empathy is what justifies Aunt Gardiner in her own mind for engaging in a surveillance operation, she worries that somehow Lizzy is getting herself into an intrigue with Darcy that will end badly in some way, and she feels she needs to help Lizzy whether Lizzy asks for help or not.
This straightforward, consistent interpretation is only accessible to the reader who stops and works all of it out step by step, like solving a math equation! Whereas the breeziness of the language inclines almost all readers to blow right by this passage quickly without even noticing the intricacy.
Such is the miracle of P&P--which is both light bright and sparkling, and _also_ Byzantine in its secret complexity, but.....that's not _all_ I see in that second excerpted paragraph!
As a result of my struggles to decode this passage, I was also able to come up with a _second_ interpretation, with a very different, and much more mysterious, meaning, which would go as follows:
"The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse [i.e., explanation] for the lowness of her [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner's] spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from /that/, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own [i.e. Mrs. Gardiner's] feelings, was [therefore] perfectly aware that, had she [i.e., Lizzy] known nothing of Darcy, she [i.e., Mrs Gardiner] could have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner], she [i.e., Mrs. Gardiner] thought, one sleepless night out of two."
That second interpretation would turn this paragraph topsy-turvy, from being entirely about Aunt Gardiner's conjectures about Lizzy and Darcy, into an acutely self-conscious meditation by Mrs. Gardiner, in which her somewhat nosy conjectures about Lizzy and Darcy have abruptly morphed into Aunt Gardiner wondering whether Lizzy is, in turn, making conjectures about Aunt Gardiner's low spirits!
In this interpretation, it's as though Aunt Gardiner was concealing something from Lizzy, something that Aunt Gardiner is very upset about, and she is worried that Lizzy might figure it out, or, even worse, might already know about? In this reading, it is Aunt Gardiner, too, and not merely Lizzy, who has been unable to sleep the past two nights, because it is Aunt Gardiner, too, and not merely Lizzy, who is experiencing dread over Lydia's infamy, and Aunt Gardiner believes that Lizzy is aware of Aunt Gardiner's feelings in this regard.
And...for some reason known to Aunt Gardiner but unknown to Lizzy--or to the reader---Lizzy's having a relationship with Darcy is making Aunt Gardiner's ability to bear the dread of Lydia's infamy a _lot_ harder! And perhaps this unknown reason is what really motivates Aunt Gardiner to spy on Lizzy's incoming mail?
And there I will stop......
Cheers, ARNIE
Friday, July 8, 2011
The Colebrooke Connection to Jane Austen: Part Three
And here is Part Three of the Colebrooke Connection to Jane Austen. In letter 95 dated Nov. 3, 1813, Jane Austen wrote from Godmersham, the estate of brother Edward in Kent, to Cassandra, as follows:
"We dine at Chilham-Castle to-morrow, and I expect to find some amusement, but more from the concert the next day, as I am sure of seeing several that I want to see."
I came across the following extraordinary statement in a website pertaining to Chilham Castle:
http://www.chilham-castle.co.uk/history.aspx?id=11
“In his meticulous history of Chilham, Thomas Heron, the Colebrookes' successor, gives elephants no mention, but soon after his departure, we are told that Jane Austen wrote to her sister from their brother's home at Godmersham after “a walk to see Mr Wildman's elephants at Chilham”. Until we can track this letter down, the tale remains unsubstantiated.”
That last statement is the understatement of the century, that reminds me of the famous mathematical frenzy set off by Fermat when he mentioned that he had found a solution to a major mathematical theorem (Fermat's Last Theorem, of course), that took 358 years to be solved--by a Brit, Andrew Wiles.
Wouldn't it cause a major wave of excitement if that letter could be tracked down?
But while we're all waiting for that news, I was still very much intrigued to read about there being _elephants_ at Chilham Castle (where JA dined in late 1813 while visiting Godmersham), and to find out why this webpage had come up when I searched "Jane Austen Colebrooke"?
Well, the answer is very interesting in all respects, I think you will agree.
First, it turns out that the scion of the Colebrooke family, the guy who made it all the way to the top of the East India Company, James Colebrooke, had purchased Chilham Castle in 1722, and it remained in the Colebrooke family's ownership until 1774. And it was James Colebrooke's grandson, George, who married the beautiful Belinda, and then died in 1809, leaving his widow and two girls surviving, as I detailed in my earlier post.
The next connection of Chilham Castle to JA is to understand _why_ she was part of the party that dined at Chilham Castle in 1813. By then, the Castle had been in the hands of the Wildman family for over 20 years, and if that name Wildman rings a bell--and it should--it's because the young heir of the Wildman fortune was the very guy who courted Fanny Knight, resulting in her having _very_ mixed_ feelings about him, as documented by JA's early 1817 letters to Fanny, before finally saying "no"!
But it's the elephants I am most curious about.....were there actually elephants at Chilham Castle that JA might have seen during that visit to the Castle?
It turns out that there really were, as would befit the Castle of a colonial magnate like James Colebrooke:
http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/house-and-home/property/so-you-want-to-live-in-a-former-elephant-house-562990.html
[May 12, 2004 article]
"...Indian elephants, which were imported from the subcontinent to help with logging on the Chilham Castle estate in Kent....Actually, the lodgings only housed two elephants. The stone arches you can see in the wall were the entrances to their quarters. The property was an elephant home until the last animal died in 1900.....Once the elephants died, the property was converted into two cottages for workers on the estate. The cottages were bought three years ago by the current owners, who refurbished it.....And, according to the agents, a small mound found in one corner of the lawn is the burial site for the two elephants, although to be honest, there's no telling what it is..... The elephant house, in Chilham, Kent is on the market now for at £625,000 through Strutt & Parker (01277 451 23). Who knows - if you're really lucky you
could unearth the odd tusk or two."
The claim of a missing JA letter talking about elephants at Chilham Castle, intriguing as it might sound, does not fit the facts, however, which is that Letter 96, written only 3 days after Letter 95 (so there is clearly no missing letter to CEA in between), leads off with JA's brief description of the Ball at Chilham Castle, and there is nary a tusk or trunk anywhere in her description! This does surprise me, you would think JA of all people would make some sort of joke about elephants if she had seen them there, but perhaps the Wildmans were discreet and kept the elephants out of sight during balls! ;)
Cheers, ARNIE
"We dine at Chilham-Castle to-morrow, and I expect to find some amusement, but more from the concert the next day, as I am sure of seeing several that I want to see."
I came across the following extraordinary statement in a website pertaining to Chilham Castle:
http://www.chilham-castle.co.uk/history.aspx?id=11
“In his meticulous history of Chilham, Thomas Heron, the Colebrookes' successor, gives elephants no mention, but soon after his departure, we are told that Jane Austen wrote to her sister from their brother's home at Godmersham after “a walk to see Mr Wildman's elephants at Chilham”. Until we can track this letter down, the tale remains unsubstantiated.”
That last statement is the understatement of the century, that reminds me of the famous mathematical frenzy set off by Fermat when he mentioned that he had found a solution to a major mathematical theorem (Fermat's Last Theorem, of course), that took 358 years to be solved--by a Brit, Andrew Wiles.
Wouldn't it cause a major wave of excitement if that letter could be tracked down?
But while we're all waiting for that news, I was still very much intrigued to read about there being _elephants_ at Chilham Castle (where JA dined in late 1813 while visiting Godmersham), and to find out why this webpage had come up when I searched "Jane Austen Colebrooke"?
Well, the answer is very interesting in all respects, I think you will agree.
First, it turns out that the scion of the Colebrooke family, the guy who made it all the way to the top of the East India Company, James Colebrooke, had purchased Chilham Castle in 1722, and it remained in the Colebrooke family's ownership until 1774. And it was James Colebrooke's grandson, George, who married the beautiful Belinda, and then died in 1809, leaving his widow and two girls surviving, as I detailed in my earlier post.
The next connection of Chilham Castle to JA is to understand _why_ she was part of the party that dined at Chilham Castle in 1813. By then, the Castle had been in the hands of the Wildman family for over 20 years, and if that name Wildman rings a bell--and it should--it's because the young heir of the Wildman fortune was the very guy who courted Fanny Knight, resulting in her having _very_ mixed_ feelings about him, as documented by JA's early 1817 letters to Fanny, before finally saying "no"!
But it's the elephants I am most curious about.....were there actually elephants at Chilham Castle that JA might have seen during that visit to the Castle?
It turns out that there really were, as would befit the Castle of a colonial magnate like James Colebrooke:
http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/house-and-home/property/so-you-want-to-live-in-a-former-elephant-house-562990.html
[May 12, 2004 article]
"...Indian elephants, which were imported from the subcontinent to help with logging on the Chilham Castle estate in Kent....Actually, the lodgings only housed two elephants. The stone arches you can see in the wall were the entrances to their quarters. The property was an elephant home until the last animal died in 1900.....Once the elephants died, the property was converted into two cottages for workers on the estate. The cottages were bought three years ago by the current owners, who refurbished it.....And, according to the agents, a small mound found in one corner of the lawn is the burial site for the two elephants, although to be honest, there's no telling what it is..... The elephant house, in Chilham, Kent is on the market now for at £625,000 through Strutt & Parker (01277 451 23). Who knows - if you're really lucky you
could unearth the odd tusk or two."
The claim of a missing JA letter talking about elephants at Chilham Castle, intriguing as it might sound, does not fit the facts, however, which is that Letter 96, written only 3 days after Letter 95 (so there is clearly no missing letter to CEA in between), leads off with JA's brief description of the Ball at Chilham Castle, and there is nary a tusk or trunk anywhere in her description! This does surprise me, you would think JA of all people would make some sort of joke about elephants if she had seen them there, but perhaps the Wildmans were discreet and kept the elephants out of sight during balls! ;)
Cheers, ARNIE
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