Jane Austen’s profoundly “light, bright & sparkling” (Biblical) subtext in Pride & Prejudice

While discussing my recent aggregation of 20 posts at my blog, all about the shadow Darcy…

http://tinyurl.com/kmbl9yq

…Diane Reynolds just pointed out to me the following remarkable (and as it turns out, highly significant)  word/name game played by Jane Austen in P&P:

“Wickham as Wick--or Light (as in candlewick) and Darcy as Dark--making the c hard.”

While I have previously written about that “dark Darcy” wordplay, and I have also previously noted the name “Wickham” as a play on the word “wicked” (there are three references to “wickedness” in P&P, and they all relate to Wickham), Diane is the first to pick up on the much more subtle, compound clue of “Wickham” as candle “wick” giving “light” in contrast to “Darcy” as “dark” shadowy character. The rest of this post is all about the fruitful implications of Diane’s insight.

First, while my quick word search of P&P came up empty for the words “wick” and “candle”, n P&P, Diane’s observation nonetheless instantly reminded me of something else-something I first found in 2006, and which I’ve written about several times since---Jane Austen’s veiled allusion to Paul’s famous warning about false christs who appear to be “angels of light” in 2 Corinthians 11:

“…For I am jealous over you with godly jealousy: for I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ. For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him. For I suppose I was not a whit behind the very chiefest apostles. But though I be rude in speech, yet not in knowledge; but we have been throughly made manifest among you in all things….For such [are] false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.  And no marvel; FOR SATAN HIMSELF IS TRANSFORMED INTO AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works….”

In 2006, I was led to that Biblical passage by a Google search, prompted by my curiosity to know if there was a literary allusion hidden in that striking turn of phrase in the following narrative comment about Wickham’s abrupt fall from grace in the Meryton gossip mill in the latter third of the novel….

“All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man, who, but three months before, had been almost an ANGEL OF LIGHT.”

…as I connected that passage back to Lydia’s letter to Kitty:

“I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I love, and HE IS AN ANGEL.”

When I checked in 2006, I was very surprised to find that there was only one other Austen scholar who had ever noted this veiled allusion in P&P. After all, a lot of people had surely repeatedly read both Corinthians and P&P before 2006. But it was only David L. Jeffrey, in his 1992 Dictionary of Biblical Tradition in English Literature who picked up on it before me.

What was really sad, but as I now recognize has been all too common in Austen studies for nearly two centuries now, was that Prof. Jeffrey---apparently subscribing to a minimizing stereotype of Jane Austen as an ignorant and unsophisticated female author who didn’t know classic literature in a scholarly way---simply assumed that JA had entirely missed the allusive significance of that phrase, and had therefore used it unwittingly in a clichéd way!

Here is the relevant part of his entry for “Angel of Light”, ending with his clueless analysis of JA’s usage of same:       

“In literary terms the ‘angel of light’ becomes synonymous with the clever tempter (or temptress). In Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors, when a prostitute wishes to claim from the wrong Antipholus a promised gold chain, he tells his servant Dromio that she is the devil himself…”Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof comes that the wenches say 'God damn me;' that's as much to say 'God make me a light wench.' It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her.” (4.3.50-56).

For William Cowper, the false courtier “whose trade it is to smile, to crouch, to please; In smooth dissimulation, skilled to grace, A devil’s purpose with an angel’s face” (Table Talk, 128-130) is such an “angel”….The term becomes clichéd before the end of the century, as when Jane Austen, misplacing the original pejorative association, writes in P&P (chap. 48) ”All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man, who, but three months before, had been almost an angel of light.”  END QUOTE FROM JEFFREY

I mean, really, talk about being tone-deaf to Jane Austen’s irony! That has to be one of the most egregious examples I have seen, and I’ve seen a lot of them!

In any event, what I see in 2015, prompted by Diane’s brilliant and pregnant insight, is a whole additional layer of wordplay and meaning anchored by that veiled Corinthians allusion to Paul’s Satanic “angels of light”. In a nutshell, I maintain that in the shadow story of P&P, Mr. Darcy, as the ultimate Satanic manipulator, tricks Elizabeth, via a stage-managed performance by his minions at Pemberley, and vis a vis his apparent rescue of the Bennet family from the Wickham-Lydia fracas, into flipflopping her perception of him from a “dark” (malevolent) man to a “light” (benevolent) one. 

And one way Jane Austen subliminally cues the reader into this transformation of Darcy into a good angel, and Wickham into a bad one, is via her repeated usage of the word “light” in the following quoted passages in P&P.

In most of these instances, these usages pertain very specifically to the character of Darcy, as you will see in the following excerpts from P&P which I just collected. I’ve also added in the passages which include the words “bright” and “sparkling”, because I now also realize that JA’s famous description of P&P in her letter to Cassandra as being “rather too light, bright, and sparkling-it wants shade” is actually itself an alert—it warned Cassandra to look for the words “light”, “bright” and “sparkling” in the novel---because each of those words just happens to be used in P&P to refer to the “eyes” of a Bennet female—but far more important, JA’s clever usage of the word “light” illuminates much more, as you will see, below!

“But no sooner had [Darcy] made it clear to himself and his friends that [Eliza] hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of HER DARK EYES. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be LIGHT and pleasing…”

That last part about Eliza’s “figure” being “light and pleasing” is especially troubling when we lay it alongside Dromio’s angry reference to “light wenches” who “will burn” --- it suggests to the learned reader that Elizabeth is a prostitute who will burn at the stake!

And here are three passages which all refer to the brightness of Lizzy’s eyes and appearance:

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of HER FINE EYES."

"Not at all," he replied; "they were BRIGHTENED by the exercise."

[Sir William] “…You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose BRIGHT EYES are also upbraiding me."

The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy…”

[Darcy] could even listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away the BRIGHTEST jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all meeting frequently at St. James's, with very decent composure.

There are also two passages which refer to the “sparkling” eyes of Mrs. Bennet when she hears about prospective wealthy suitors for her daughters!

Getting to the nitty-gritty, pretty much all of the following passages use the word “light” in the very specialized meaning of illumination of character. By these several repetitions of variations on this theme, Jane Austen subliminally brings home that Lizzy’s view of Darcy moves from a “disgraceful” light to an “amiable” light, and she even begins to imagine Darcy’s view of her as “disgraceful”!:

Jane: "...My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what A DISGRACEFUL LIGHT it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's favourite [Wickham] in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to provide for...."

Jane: "...By supposing such an affection, you make everybody [including Darcy] acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been mistaken—or, at least, it is LIGHT, it is nothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take it IN THE BEST LIGHT, IN THE LIGHT in which it may be understood."

Elizabeth: "Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as LIGHT as a feather."
Jane: "Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner!"

Elizabeth: "…The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton to attempt to place him in AN AMIABLE LIGHT. I am not equal to it. Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to anyone here what he really is...."

Mrs. Reynolds: "He is the best landlord, and the best master," said she, "that ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men." "In what AN AMIABLE LIGHT does this place him!" thought Elizabeth. ....On reaching the spacious lobby above they were shown into a very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and LIGHTNESS than the apartments below...

[Eliza] was overpowered by shame and vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world! How strange it must appear to [Darcy]! In what A DISGRACEFUL LIGHT might it not strike so vain a man!

The respect created by the conviction of [Darcy’s] valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feeling; and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing forward his disposition in SO AMIABLE A LIGHT, which yesterday had produced.

All Meryton seemed striving to BLACKEN the man [Wickham] who, but three months before, had been almost an ANGEL OF LIGHT [It has long been recognized.

But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least it was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy had been at her sister's wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people, where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go. Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as placing his conduct IN THE NOBLEST LIGHT, seemed most improbable.

"I am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, "that you have ever been informed of what may, IN A MISTAKEN LIGHT, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted."

And I conclude this post with the observation that, in the shadow story of P&P, which depicts the radical transformation (during the last half of the novel) of Lizzy’s view of Darcy from “dark” to “light”, we are seeing exactly the same sort of transformation that Paul warned the Corinthians about when he wrote:

“For such [are] false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.  And no marvel; FOR SATAN HIMSELF IS TRANSFORMED INTO AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works….”

And those ministers of the Satanic Darcy include Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Gardiner!

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

“…we must think the best & hope the best & do the best”: Jane Austen’s irony, NOT her charity!

Saturday was the 198^th anniversary of the death of Jane Austen at 41. I realized that the emotional highpoint of Austen bicentennial remembrance, which began 4 years ago on the 200^th anniversary of her first publication (Sense & Sensibility), will likely be reached two years from now when her premature death is again mourned. Although I won’t be observing her quarter-millenial observances personally, I’m sure that 2067 Janeites will.

As has happened on every previous bicentennial Austen observance, there’ve been several remembrance articles written, and Saturday was no exception—the most interesting one I read was by fellow JASNA member and sharp elf Sarah Emsley, which I reproduce below:

http://sarahemsley.com/2015/07/18/we-must-think-the-best/

“We must think the best & hope the best & do the best.” Jane Austen wrote this line in a letter to her sister Cassandra on November 26, 1815, when their brother Henry was very ill, and I’ve returned to it many times over the years that I’ve been studying her life and letters. Henry has been hoping he’ll be able to travel to Oxford for a few days, but although he “gets out in his Garden every day … at present his inclination for doing more seems over” and “his feelings are for continuing where he is, through the next two months.” “One knows the uncertainty of all this,” Jane acknowledges, “but should it be so, we must think the best & hope the best & do the best.” She tells Cassandra that “Henry calls himself stronger every day & Mr. H. keeps on approving his Pulse – which seems generally better than ever – but still they will not let him be well. – The fever is not yet quite removed. – The Medicine he takes (the same as before you went) is cheifly to improve his Stomach, & only a little aperient. He is so well, that I cannot think why he is not perfectly well.” She was determined to be optimistic in the face of death, just as she was eighteen months later after Henry had recovered and she herself was ill…..Later in that same letter to Miss Sharp there’s another example of her “thinking the best.” She’s grateful for the kindness of those who are caring for her, and she concludes, “In short, if I live to be an old Woman I must expect to wish I had died now, blessed in the tenderness of such a family, & before I had survived either them or their affection.” Jane Austen died 198 years ago today, on July 18, 1817. “

My first reaction to the above, as anyone who follows my Austenian heresies might’ve guessed, was to be skeptical of Sarah’s unironic reading of Jane’s take on brother Henry’s health prospects:  “we must think the best & hope the best & do the best.” Recognizing the aphoristic quality, I searched her novels, and was quickly brought to the following troubling passage in Mansfield Park:

“Edmund’s account of Fanny’s disposition [Sir Thomas] could believe to be just; he supposed she had all those feelings, but he must consider it as very unfortunate that she had; for, less willing than his son to trust to the future, he could not help fearing that if such very long allowances of time and habit were necessary for her, she might not have persuaded herself into receiving his addresses properly before the young man’s inclination for paying them were over. There was nothing to be done, however, but to submit quietly and hope the best.”

Note the subtle but dark irony in Jane Austen having used that very same phrase, “hope the best”, a year before she wrote the letter Sarah quoted from. Although in a very different context, it also involves hoping the best for a man named “Henry” (“the young man, Henry Crawford, the rake). The sharp irony is that “the best” hoped for by Sir Thomas is the worst from Fanny’s (and the reader’s) point of view---Fanny is at that moment desperately resisting the coercion being exerted on her to accept Henry’s proposal. And those familiar with Mansfield Park know that the darkest irony lies right ahead in the novel text---in fact, we soon learn that Sir Thomas does not submit quietly and hope the best, as he says to Edmund, but instead the ogreish Sir T promptly exiles Fanny to the smells, noise, and glare of Portsmouth, all for the “higher” purpose of “persuading” her to “reconsider” Henry’s proposal—which she almost does, by the way.

So…that novelistic irony in turn sent me right back to the 1815 Austen letter Sarah had quoted from, to see if my initial suspicion of an ironic usage of three “bests” was borne out. You can see for yourself, as you read that passage in the full context of the entire letter to sister Cassandra dated 11/26/1815. My  (subversive) comments immediately follow the letter text:

“Hans Place, Sunday (Nov. 26). My Dearest, — The parcel arrived safely, and I am much obliged to you for your trouble. It cost 2s.10-- but as there is a certain saving of 2s. 4 ½. on the other side, I am sure it is well worth doing. I send four pair of silk stockings, but I do not want them washed at present. In the three neck handkerchiefs I include the one sent down before. These things, perhaps, Edwd. may be able to bring, but even if he is not, I am extremely pleased with his returning to you from Steventon. It is much better, far preferable. I did mention the P. R. in my note to Mr. Murray; it brought me a fine compliment in return. Whether it has done any other good I do not know, but Henry thought it worth trying. The printers continue to supply me very well. I am advanced in Vol. III. to my arra-root, upon which peculiar style of spelling there is a modest query in the margin. I will not forget Anna's arrowroot. I hope you have told Martha of my first resolution of letting nobody know that I might dedicate, etc., for fear of being obliged to do it, and that she is thoroughly convinced of my being influenced now by nothing but the most mercenary motives. I have paid nine shillings on her account to Miss Palmer; there was no more owing. Well, we were very busy all yesterday; from half-past eleven till four in the streets, working almost entirely for other people, driving from place to place after a parcel for Sandling, which we could never find, and encountering the miseries of Grafton House to get a purple frock for Eleanor Bridges. We got to Keppel St., however, which was all I cared for; and though we could stay only a quarter of an hour, Fanny's calling gave great pleasure, and her sensibility still greater, for she was very much affected at the sight of the children. Poor little F. looked heavy. We saw the whole party. Aunt Harriet hopes Cassy will not forget to make a pincushion for Mrs. Kelly, as she has spoken of its being promised her several times. I hope we shall see Aunt H. and the dear little girls here on Thursday. So much for the morning. Then came the dinner and Mr. Haden, who brought good manners and clever conversation. From seven to eight the harp; at eight Mrs. L. and Miss E. arrived, and for the rest of the evening the drawing-room was thus arranged: on the sofa side the two ladies, Henry, and myself making the best of it; on the opposite side Fanny and Mr. Haden, in two chairs (I believe, at least, they had two chairs), talking together uninterruptedly. Fancy the scene! And what is to be fancied next? Why, that Mr. H. dines here again to-morrow. To-day we are to have Mr. Barlow. Mr. H. is reading "Mansfield Park" for the first time, and prefers it to P. and P. A hare and four rabbits from Gm. yesterday, so that we are stocked for nearly a week. Poor Farmer Andrews! I am very sorry for him, and sincerely wish his recovery. A better account of the sugar than I could have expected. I should like to help you break some more. I am glad you cannot wake early; I am sure you must have been under great arrears of rest.

Fanny and I have been to B. Chapel, and walked back with Maria Cuthbert. We have been very little plagued with visitors this last week. I remember only Miss Herries, the aunt, but I am in terror for to-day, a fine bright Sunday; plenty of mortar, and nothing to do….”

So there we have 624 words---a Miss Batesian barrage of words --- about a dozen small gossip topics, before the subject of Henry’s health is even reached. In that pre-telegraphic era, had Jane believed Cassandra to be worried about Henry’s “serious illness”, would Jane have waited till her 625^th word to start updating her sister about it? Of course not!  And now, here finally is the section about Henry Austen:

“Henry gets out in his garden every day, but at present his inclination for doing more seems over, nor has he now any plan for leaving London before Dec. 18, when he thinks of going to Oxford for a few days; to-day, indeed, his feelings are for continuing where he is through the next two months.

One knows the uncertainty of all this; but should it be so, we must think the best, and hope the best, and do the best; and my idea in that case is, that when he goes to Oxford I should go home, and have nearly a week of you before you take my place. This is only a silent project, you know, to be gladly given up if better things occur. Henry calls himself stronger every day, and Mr. H. keeps on approving his pulse, which seems generally better than ever, but still they will not let him be well. Perhaps when Fanny is gone he will be allowed to recover faster.”

I think it clear from the consistently light-hearted tone of this letter that Sarah has inadvertently taken that aphoristic passage out of context. What comes across very clearly to me, in a half dozen different ways, is that there is no real worry at all, either on Jane’s or Cassandra’s part, about Henry’s being ill. While Henry was apparently quite ill a month earlier, he has, equally apparently, made a pretty quick recovery. What he seems to be suffering from at this point are some major jitters about a possible relapse—which are understandable, especially given the primitive understanding of infectious illness in 1815. But the point here is that what Jane is doing, in an entirely ironic tone (very similar to her ironical reference, in an 1813 letter, to Alexander Pope’s ironic line “Whatever is, is best”), is gently mocking Henry’s hypochondria, and noting how niece Fanny, among others, is enabling Henry, the same way that Mr. Woodhouse’s hypochondria is tolerated by the band of understanding friends who surround him.

Henry Austen is thinking of taking a trip in a few weeks to Oxford for a few days–now, how sick can he be? And there is further irony in Jane’s saying “but still they will not let him be well. Perhaps when Fanny is gone he will be allowed to recover faster.” So much for real worry, when Jane cracks wise this way. What Jane probably was worried about, but she’s not talking about it in this letter, is her own health, which has not been good. She’s as much as saying to Cassandra, that Henry is being a big baby.

And…let’s zero in on why Jane is feeling so ebullient as she writes that letter. She exults in the great pleasure derived from the stimulating company of Henry’s apothecary, Mr. Haden, to whom she gives a copy of MP to read (and perhaps points out that very passage about Sir Thomas “hoping the best” with a wink about Haden’s patient Henry Austen?)  And…recall also that this letter refers to Emma’s final pre-publication stage--imagine the great anticipation that Jane is experiencing, the authorial triumph she so eagerly anticipates. And on top of all that, her 1815 letters teem with her enjoyment of her extended visits to London with its theatres and opportunities for the best….company!

And finally, the icing on the cake of the utterly calm, unworried tone of the letter. JA finishes it with a joke about….illness!:    “I am not disappointed: I never thought the little girl at Wyards very pretty, but she will have a fine complexion and curly hair, and pass for a beauty. We are glad the mamma's cold has not been worse, and send her our love and good wishes by every convenient opportunity. Sweet, amiable Frank! why does he have a cold too? Like Captain Mirvan to Mr. Duval, "I wish it well over with him."

Would Jane jokingly complain about brother Frank not having a cold like niece Anna at Wyards, and then playfully wink at a Fanny Burney novel, if brother Henry were really still sick—sick enough to warrant a pious resolution to “hope the best”?  Of course not!  And then, yet a little more light gossip and the letter is over.

Now, speaking of pious resolution, I did detect one final layer of irony in JA’s aphorism that is more speculative, but I still think is there. To wit, while I could not find any direct allusive source, like her famous reference to the “infallible Pope”, for “We must think the best, and hope the best, and do the best”, I do believe JA intended to subtly echo verse 7 from the following, very famous Chapter 13 in 1 Corinthians:

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.

² And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

³ And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

⁴ CHARITY suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

⁵ Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;

⁶ Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

⁷ BEARETH ALL THINGS, BELIEVETH ALL THINGS, HOPETH ALL THINGS, ENDURETH ALL THINGS.

⁸ Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

⁹ For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

¹⁰ But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

¹¹ When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

¹² For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

¹³ And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

Just as I have previously written…

http://sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-biblical-subtexts-of-letter-138d.html

… about how Jane Austen brilliantly wove a satirical allusion to 1 Corinthians 9:14 into her April 1 (aka April Fool’s), 1816 letter to the blowhard hypocrite court librarian James Stanier Clarke, so too I now believe that JA wove 1 Corinthians 13:7 into the subtext of her letter to Cassandra about Henry’s (extinct) illness.

So, while I do believe Jane sincerely aspired to extend charity to others, she was always ready to temper that aspiration with a healthy dose of ironic skepticism—those who were truly worthy of charity received it from her, but those who didn’t received their due in her subtle, profound irony.

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

WTF: The funny word the President (and Richard Pryor) spoke

Nobody (other than some alert Tweeters I just found) seems to have paid much attention to a particular word President Obama spoke during his recent interview by comedian Marc Maron for the latter’s WTF podcast, a podcast that was the subject, shortly afterwards, of this Fresh Air interview of Maron by Terri Gross:

http://www.npr.org/sections/itsallpolitics/2015/06/22/416481081/obama-visits-marc-marons-garage-cats-annoyed-they-were-shut-in-bedroom

That word—actually, a name--- that Obama spoke, in passing, that nobody seemed to notice, was the first word out of his mouth after Maron asked him a spontaneous question at 1:02:53, right before the end of the podcast:

Maron: You like comedy?

Obama:  I love comedy.

Maron: Who are your guys?

Obama: Pryor was one.

The President was referring, of course, to the late Richard Pryor, and he then went on to name Dick Gregory and Jerry Seinfeld as other favorites, before the subject quickly changed and the interview ended.

Now here’s the funny (as in funny-strange) thing about that collective not-noticing. There was another word that the President spoke during an earlier portion of that interview (beginning at 45:32) that was  noticed by everyone who heard it. Indeed, that word became the subject of a media furor that brought it to the attention of countless millions of people in the US and around the world:

Obama: I always tell young people in particular: 'Do not say that nothing's changed when it comes to race in America ----- unless you've lived through being a black man in the 1950s, or '60s, or '70s.’ It is incontrovertible that race relations have improved significantly during my lifetime and yours, and that opportunities have opened up, and that attitudes have changed. That is a fact. What is also true is that the legacy of slavery, Jim Crow, discrimination in almost every institution of our lives — you know, that casts a long shadow. And that's still part of our DNA that's passed on. We're not cured of it.

Maron: Racism.

Obama: Racism. We are not cured of it.

Maron: Clearly.

Obama: And it's not just a matter of it not being polite to say 'nigger' in public. That's not the measure of whether racism still exists or not. It's not just a matter of overt discrimination. Societies don't overnight completely erase everything that happened 200-300 years prior.

So what I tried to describe in the Selma speech that I gave, commemorating the march there, was, again, a notion that progress is real, and we have to take hope from that progress. But what is also real is that the march isn't over, and the work is not yet completed. And then our job is to try in very concrete ways to figure out, what more can we do?"

I am sure that I don’t need to tell you that the word everyone noticed in that segment of the interview is the N Word. And the furor, as anyone reading this probably also already knows, was about whether the President ought to have spoken it publicly.

Now, it will come as no surprise to anyone who regularly reads this blog that I found that furor to be only the latest in a series of increasingly desperate attempts by the Far Right to characterize the President (as Marc Maron aptly put it) as Satan incarnate. I am of the camp who applaud the President for so shrewdly and thoughtfully using the N Word publicly as he did in that instance, in order to make an important point very tellingly---using his bully pulpit to do what he can to keep race relations improving during the remainder of his Presidency.  And it is the amazing grace and tact that he has always shown in all his public utterances which makes his using that loaded word so particularly powerful.

His unspoken, yet powerfully delivered point, as I understand it, is that white racists no longer being able to use that ugly word in a hateful way, with impunity, is a good thing, of course. However, let’s be real, he’s saying, this is only one step in the long, painful, uncertain path toward true racial conciliation and justice in America.

And consider this. Barack Obama has endured being called N-- countless times: verbally, in print, and on the Internet. In fact, due to his historically unique position, he probably merits an entry in the Guinness Book of Records---he has been called that name more than any black person before has ever been called that name. The name-callers constitute a legion of benighted cowardly bigots who still cannot accept the fact, 6  ½ years into his Presidency, he sits in the White House as the first black President—and as of this very moment, his popularity ratings are higher than they’ve been since shortly after his reelection—and little wonder.  And so, what a grotesque irony it would be, if he of all people did not have the moral standing to use that awful word in the careful, righteous way he did, in the context of a powerful statement about the path toward ending racism, and taking us closer to the still-distant finish line.

And speaking of lines, here’s my punch line, which perhaps some of you have already guessed. If you had to pick one word that defined Richard Pryor’s extraordinary career as comedian and social commentator, and especially the twenty years from the mid 60’s to the mid 80’s during which he reigned supreme in that field, it would have to be….the N Word—as in the title of his first smash hit album—“That N--‘s Crazy!”.  And so, the rest of this post springs from the fact that my favorite comedian of all time is….also Richard Pryor, and has been for over 30 years!

I find it extraordinarily interesting, and no coincidence at all, that the President used the N Word during the WTF interview, and then, a scant 15 minutes later, referred to Richard Pryor as his favorite comedian. For those who are familiar with Pryor’s complicated genius and legacy, the President’s comedic taste for his particular brand of comedy speaks volumes.

First, then, for those who are not familiar, but are interested to know more, I have three YouTube videos to recommend to you, the definitive crash course in Richard Pryor:

First, there is the excellent 2013 documentary, Richard Pryor, Omit the Logic, which I only heard about and then watched, mesmerized, the other day, as it was clearly a labor of love produced by those who loved and understood his talent, and it presents his life in a rich and empathic way:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S_sx3p4rxFg

Second, the 1982 stand-up performance by Richard Pryor that defined his career (and was my first real exposure to his comedy, especially given that I saw it in a theater in South Florida surrounded by a mostly black audience, whose enjoyment of his magic was, to say the least, contagious!), displaying his mature comedic genius at its peak, Richard Pryor Live on the Sunset Strip:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPRf0GoJ_vE

And third is the eerily prescient, absurdist segment from Richard Pryor’s short-lived 1977 TV show, in which he played the role of the 40^th President of the United States giving a press conference you’ll never forget, and making you wonder if he had a crystal ball then which had allowed him to see 30+ years into the future:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yssYKoZRQRs

You don’t need to have seen any of those videos to follow what I now have to say. What I find most revealing in the President’s offhand reference to Richard Pryor as his favorite comedian, is the intersection of the N Word between their two extraordinary careers.

Unlike the case with the President’s public utterances, even 30 seconds of Live on The Sunset Strip will reveal to those of you unfamiliar with Richard Pryor, that he used the N Word thousands of times during his career, and almost none of those usages were of the careful, polite variety that included the President’s. I will not attempt the impossible task of explaining why Pryor used the word so much, and what it meant to the extraordinary power and humor of his performances. Just watch the above YouTube videos and you’ll begin to understand, if not immediately, then over time.

What I want to address before I close is the most poignant use of that supercharged word that Richard Pryor made, the day he renounced the use of the N Word for the rest of his career. Here is what he said, and you’ll find it to be the emotional center of Live on the Sunset Strip:

“Racism is a bitch. White people, you gotta know. It fucks you up-but what it does to black people is a bitch. Because no matter what it—it is hard enough being a human being. It's really fucking hard enough just to be that. Right, just to go through everyday life without murdering a motherfucker. It's hard enough just to walk through life decent as a person. But here's another element added when you're black... It's enough to make you crazy. If you're in an argument with another man he may be white but it's man on man for a minute and the shit gets rough and he ends up calling you a nigger... You gotta go "Oh, shit...fuck...now I ain't no man no more, 'nigger' now I gotta argue with that shit. Fuck throw my balance all off now." ... But it's an ugly thing and someday I hope they give it up.”

And then, after describing his transformative trip to Africa, Richard Pryor no doubt shocked a lot of people by announcing that he would never use the N Word again, “Because there aren’t any..We never was no niggers. That’s the word that’s used to describe our own wretchedness.”

As in “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me”?

Amen, Richard Pryor and President Obama. You both done us all proud.

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

P.S. re Why Elizabeth takes an eager interest in Wickham's concerns even after he deserts her for Miss King

For those who've been following along in my latest thread which I started earlier today under the above Subject Line, I am thrilled to be able to present to you a response I received a short while ago in another online discussion, written by Diana Oaks.

Diana (who by the way did NOT ask me to write this post, it's my own idea!) is an author of Austen sequels, and a member of Austen Authors, whose online acquaintance I first made a month ago, and here are two links that will tell you more about her and her writing:

http://sunriseatpemberley.blogspot.com/2015/01/austen-authors-standing-on-shoulders-of.html

http://austenprose.com/2013/03/16/one-thread-pulled-the-dance-with-mr-darcy-volume-1-by-diana-j-oaks-a-review/

And here is what Diana wrote in specific response to my above captioned post:






"Very interesting. When I read the text, and before I scrolled down to see Arnie's answer, I arrived at the same surprising conclusion he did. Upon reflection, it doesn't seem so surprising at all. Not even much of a stretch.


Elizabeth states that she arrived at her opinion of Darcy "long before" Darcy separated Jane and Bingley. When Darcy complains of her "eager interest" in Wickham's concerns, Elizabeth's wording is precise and does seem to give weight to this theory. She cites his misfortunes as being a natural source of her interest, and blames Darcy for Wickham's relative poverty and lack of independence.
And then, another clue. When Wickham had asked Elizabeth how long she had known Darcy, she said it was about a month. Is it coincidence that she tells Darcy that she had not known him a month before she knew he was the last man in the world she could be prevailed upon to marry? I don't think so. Elizabeth herself has named the date when her dislike of Darcy was firmly set, and it is precisely when Wickham related his "misfortunes" to her.
We know at this time that Wickham had turned her head in a big way, as the next few chapters are full of Elizabeth's feelings for Wickham. It is obvious that she blames Darcy for Wickham's circumstances and prospects, which, by Wickham's account should have been better - good enough for him to have a living in the church that would be sufficient to support a wife, a fact which was shortly afterward illustrated by Mr. Collins' ability to overlook the lack of a dowry when selecting a wife.

I'm inclined to agree that Elizabeth blamed Darcy that Wickham, who she had truly fancied, wasn't in a position to propose to her. Marriage was her eager interest in Wickham, and she believed that his lack of money was to blame for her disappointed hopes." 
I of course was thrilled to receive a response like that, from a reader of P&P who was surprised to find that she found my argument convincing. And note that Diana also picked up on yet another clue (the part about the "month" before Elizabeth knew Darcy would never be her husband coinciding with the very moment when Wickham first told her his tale of woe about Darcy) that shows what a subtle but pervasive effect Elizabeth's feelings for Wickham have on the way she sees the world---until everything shifts, and then it is Elizabeth's feelings for Darcy which color her world.
Maybe one moral of this story is that Elizabeth ought to try living her life without depending on ANY man to color her world, perhaps she'd see the world--and in particular, men----more clearly and dispassionately.
Cheers, ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode on Twitter