Resolving the apparent contradictions of Austen’s Lady Susan (& Stillman’s Love and Friendship)

For those of you who haven’t yet seen Love and Friendship (Whit Stillman’s brilliant film adaptation---but with a confusing new title---of Jane Austen’s novella Lady Susan); or for those who’ve seen it, but were puzzled and/or troubled by the seeming irreconcilable contradictions between its subversive anti-romantic themes, on the one hand, and the sophisticated positive romance most people see in Jane Austen’s six novels and the film adaptations thereof, on the other, here’s some background for you to consider, that I hope will help reconcile those apparent contradictions. I’ve previously written several times about the deliberate, subversively feminist, wish-fulfilment fantasy aspects I see in Jane Austen’s Lady Susan, and here are my current thoughts, which have evolved during the past six months, after rereading Austen’s novella, and seeing Stillman’s film twice.

How is it that the aspiring novelist JA decided to make a conscienceless female rake, who revels in her effortless ability to manipulate others, but especially men, the heroine of a novella? And how did Austen also manage to make Lady Susan so irresistibly witty, daring, and entertaining, that we actually fall under her spell, and somehow forget to recoil in disgust at her machinations? For those of you who’ve only seen Kate Beckinsale’s brilliant, indeed award-worthy, performance as Lady Susan in Stillman’s film, and haven’t read Austen’s novella… http://www.janeausten.ac.uk/manuscripts/lady_susan/1.html …rest assured that pretty much all those amazing zingers that Beckinsale delivers so perfectly were, almost word for word, Jane Austen’s own – so the film is not anachronistic, it doesn’t impose a modern sensibility on a late 18^th century woman, it’s faithful to the sociopathic brilliance of JA’s own heroine.

I think that part of what makes many readers (and viewers), like myself, lack sympathy for the victims of Lady Susan's guile --- especially the male victims--- is that Lady Susan manages to turn what is ordinarily a kind of death sentence for middle-aged women in that era --becoming a widow without money--into opportunity for herself --- sorta like a self-serving Robin Hood. I see Lady Susan as a kind of “Austenstein” monster, a female Nemesis sicced on the male-dominated world Jane Austen grew up in, as poetic justice for the abuse and oppression of all women, both married and single, in that world.

While Lady Susan doesn’t resemble any of the heroines of Austen’s six novels, it’s often been noted that she is a lot like Mary Crawford, the enigmatic siren of Mansfield Park. I’m firmly in the camp of those who see Mary C. as a sympathetic character, a courageous whistle-blower who tries to warn the heroine Fanny Price against the abusive hypocrisy of the Bertram family. I also see a resemblance between Lady Susan and another seemingly negative Austen character not often compared to her --- Lucy Steele in Sense & Sensibility --- whose married name, as I pointed out in 2005, is LUCY FERRARS aka "Lucifer!

How so? After all, Lady Susan is well educated, with impeccable social graces, whereas Lucy seems an uneducated social climber. The deeper similarity I see between the two, is that Lady Susan, like Lucy, is a woman without scruples, who gets her way by using her own superior, nearly Satanic psychological acumen to exert influence over others - and she particularly rises to the challenge when someone dares to stand in her path and attempt to thwart her. In particular, they both boldly invade a respectable, wealthy family, and wreak havoc in it, the way a skilled borderline personality can do (apropos my friend Christine Shih’s claims that borderline personality was a key theme in Austen’s writing).

I see Lucy doing exactly the same as Lady Susan, once she "invades" the Ferrars family in S&S -- in particular, in the way I see Lucy as holding Edward on a string, and neutralizing sad clueless Elinor by making Elinor her "confidante"; while Lucy does her real work behind the scenes on Robert Ferrars, setting up the mousetrap on the Ferrars family. And then, when the time is just right, Lucy’s secret is "accidentally" revealed by her sister, and the trap is sprung on Mrs. Ferrars, who unwittingly does Lucy's bidding by disinheriting Edward, and making Robert her vested heir—whereupon Mrs. Ferrars has no way to squirm out of that trap. 

I also see a continuation of JA’s grudging admiration for a transgressive female like Lady Susan, in JA’s famous and very candid comment to Martha Lloyd in her January 1812 letter:  "I suppose all the World is sitting in Judgement upon the Princess of Wales's Letter. Poor woman, I shall support her as long as I can, because she is a Woman, & because I hate her Husband -- but I can hardly forgive her for calling herself ``attached & affectionate' to a Man whom she must detest -- & the intimacy said to subsist between her & Lady Oxford is bad -- I do not know what to do about it; but if I must give up the Princess, I am resolved at least always to think that she would have been respectable, if the Prince had behaved only tolerably by her at first. --"

In effect, Lady Susan is Austen’s vision of a woman like Princess Caroline, but on steroids. Indeed, JA might well have said about Lady Susan something like “if I must give up Lady Susan, I am resolved at least always to think that she would have been respectable, if the patriarchal social system had not been totally rigged against women, and she could have attained personal fulfilment in an ethical way".

And finally, in case anyone thinks Jane Austen as she got older was no longer in tune with having a villainess as heroine of an Austen story, just remember what JA wrote in her next to last surviving letter, in May 1817, to her old dear friend Anne Sharp, only months before JA's death (and Diana Parker in Sanditon, the novel JA began writing just before she died, also resembles Lady Susan in her exertion of influence on several people at once, like a circus juggler with ten dishes twirling atop ten poles):

"Lady P. writing to you even from Paris for advice!-It is the Influence of Strength over Weakness indeed.-Galigai de Concini for ever & ever.-Adeiu.- “

"the influence of Strength over Weakness indeed"! That could very well be Lady Susan’s motto as well! I am thinking in particular about what Lady Susan writes to his bosom buddy Alicia Johnson about her current “mark”, Reginald de Courcy, that partakes of the same attitude:  “He is lively & seems clever, & when I have inspired him with greater respect for me than his sister's kind offices have implanted, he may be an agreable Flirt. There is exquisite pleasure in subduing an insolent spirit, in making a person predetermined to dislike, acknowledge one's superiority. I have disconcerted him already by my calm reserve; & it shall be my endeavour to humble the Pride of these self-important De Courcies still lower, to convince M^rs . Vernon that her sisterly cautions have been bestowed in vain, & to persuade Reginald that she has scandalously belied me. This project will serve at least to amuse me, &prevent my feeling so acutely this dreadful separation from You & all whom I love. Adeiu. Yours Ever S. Vernon.”

  

And Jane Austen herself, from the time she first picked up a quill pen as a teenaged author, to the day she died when she was too sick to even hold a pen, and despite her being a woman with little money, managed to use the enormous strength of her mind to achieve true immortality, and give inspiration to countless women oppressed by the patriarchy, who've read her novels, and derived strength and inspiration to be strong despite gender-based obstacles still placed in their path. Austen was herself a rebel, who dared to satirize the greatest and most powerful in her novels, because she knew her own extraordinary psychological powers. Even Don Juan was of interest to her, as she wrote in 1814, a decade or more after she created Lady Susan:  “I have seen nobody on the stage who has been a more interesting Character than that compound of Cruelty and Lust”.

Now here are links, with excerpts, from three excellent articles on Lady Susan I’ve collected recently:

First, a great review of the novella and film, with which I am in total agreement:  http://kathmandupost.ekantipur.com/news/2016-07-16/true-and-false.html

“True and false” by Preena Shrestha, Jul 16, 2016   

“…look closely, and you’ll realise that as much as [Austen] indulges in the frivolous trappings of that society, she is actually, with great subtlety, wit and flair, skewering them at the same time. These satirical jabs are never more evident than in her portrayals of the lives of women at a time when their desires and individualities were consistently suppressed by the rules of social decorum and the all-encompassing need to Find A Husband—constraints that her heroines were always quietly struggling against in some form or the other. In this regard, Austen was a woman beyond her time: her work wasn’t just a catalogue of the fashions and habits of her time, but more a dig into the human condition at large, into relationships and behaviours shaped by the competing forces of romance and pragmatism, self and society—universal themes all, and still relevant to this day. …there’s such a churning of emotional complexity and conflict under that shiny surface of propriety, and so much to be gleaned from not just what is said indirectly, but also what isn’t said at all.

…Over the course of [Love and Friendship], we watch as our heroine (or anti-heroine more like) expertly manipulates them, and others in the periphery, to carve out the most advantageous deal for herself, leaving behind the usual wreckage in her wake. You might not agree with everything Lady Susan says or does—she can be a selfish b***h of the first order at the best of times—but you also can’t help but marvel at how well she’s learned to navigate around the strictures placed on her by society. Options for women back then, widows even more so, were painfully limited after all, given that they generally could not inherit property and were discouraged from working—a premise that basically fueled six whole series of Downton Abbey—so that survival was contingent on making the right match. So while her power over men might not translate to power in the real sense, it’s satisfying to see that at least she’s not submitting quietly, and has no delusions about her situation. She uses what she has—her looks, her charms and that devious mind-to get what she wants, and there’s a certain delight in watching her bludgeon her way through the mores of such an oppressive society. She isn’t vain; she’s practical. The only time we ever glimpse any softness in Lady Susan would be when it comes to Mrs Johnson, as loyal and intimate a connection as could be; love and romance might have been brought down a couple of pegs in the film, but it doesn’t appear to have lost its faith in friendship.
…Love & Friendship is the sort of thing I can see myself going back to time and again over the years in the tradition of other Austen films. Speaking of the lady herself, would she approve of Stillman’s adaptation had she been here to see it? I like to think she’d have been laughing out loud.” END QUOTE

Shrestha’s comments about the “friendship” between Lady Susan and Mrs. Johnson made me wonder whether JA, in this “anti-romance”, in fact hid a genuine love affair in plain sight– one between these two naughty ladies, who remain faithful to each other, and, indeed, do all they can to be together!

Second, here’s a great, brief summary of the influence of Mary Wollstonecraft on Austen’s novella:

https://fee.org/articles/jane-austen-vindicates-the-rights-of-women/ “Jane Austen Vindicates the Rights of Women” by Sarah Skwire  June 2016

“JA’s Lady Susan is a wrecking ball in petticoats. JA's Lady Susan is a powerful adjunct to Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Women. The main character of the new film Love and Friendship, drawn from JA’s novella Lady Susan, is a widowed mother of a marriageable daughter. She is also widely known as “the most accomplished Coquette in England.” She has a married lover. She seduces wealthy young men who are courting eligible young women, including her own daughter. She tries to force her daughter into marriage with a young man who would take a blue ribbon in Monty Python’s “Upper Class Twit of the Year” competition. She lies. She runs out on her debts. She is thoroughly reprehensible. And she is enormous fun to watch….Love and Friendship and Lady Susan are antidotes to the limiting vision of JA as “quaint and darling, doe-eyed and demure, parochial if not pastoral, and dizzily, swooningly romantic,” as novelist Robert Rodi put it. But I’m not interested in Lady Susan just because she’s one of the great antiheroines of English literature — up there with Thackeray’s Becky Sharp and Trollope’s Lizzie Eustace. I’m not interested just because she highlights Austen’s often overlooked sharp intelligence and acerbic wit. I’m interested because I am persuaded that in her creation of Lady Susan, Austen was drawing heavily on the work of one of the great early classical liberal feminists — Mary Wollstonecraft. Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman was published in 1792. Austen, it seems likely, composed Lady Susan around 1793 or 1794. Austen scholars agree that she must have read Wollstonecraft’s work. But reading A Vindication and    

Lady Susan together makes me think that Austen wasn’t just influenced by reading Wollstonecraft’s book; she seems to have used it as a template for the main character’s behavior. And that makes Lady Susan a lot more interesting. Wollstonecraft argues that the women of her time — and Austen’s time — were “weak, artificial beings, raised above the common wants and affections of their race, in a premature unnatural manner, [who] undermine the very foundation of virtue, and spread corruption through the whole mass of society.” Their corrupting influence, though, is not due to some sort of original sin handed down from Eve after the Garden of Eden. It is the result of the conscious and intentional educating of women out of natural virtue and into habituated weakness, dependence, and immorality. She continues: “Women are, in fact, so much degraded by mistaken notions of female excellence, that I do not mean to add a paradox when I assert, that this artificial weakness produces a propensity to tyrannize, and gives birth to cunning, the natural opponent of strength, which leads them to play off those contemptible infantine airs that undermine esteem even whilst they excite desire.” This is Lady Susan in a nutshell. Her tyrannical hold over her daughter’s future, her constant deceptions in matters large and small, and her pretended helplessness and innocence, which her male acquaintances interpret as charm — these are all hallmarks of her character. Even more apropos is Wollstonecraft’s description of women who have been educated in this fashion and who are then left, as is Lady Susan, widowed and with a family to care for: “But supposing, no very improbable conjecture, that a being only taught to please must still find her happiness in pleasing; — what an example of folly, not to say vice, will she be to her innocent daughters! The mother will be lost in the coquette, and, instead of making friends of her daughters, view them with eyes askance, for they are rivals — rivals more cruel than any other, for they invite a comparison, and drive her from the throne of beauty, who has never thought of a seat on the bench of reason.” Wollstonecraft adds that it doesn’t take a literary genius to imagine the “domestic miseries and petty vices” occasioned by such a mother.

A world without real education for women, a world without legal equality for women — this is a world that is rife with Lady Susans. But in Austen’s imagining of Lady Susan, we have precisely that — a literary genius turning her considerable talents (though in early days) to delineating a portrait of a woman who has become precisely what she has been educated to be. In that way, Lady Susan becomes a powerful adjunct to Wollstonecraft’s Vindication. A world without real education for women, a world without legal equality for women — this is a world that is rife with Lady Susans, grappling for power and money in the marriage market and in the gray market of sexual favors, because that is the only sphere open to women with ambition. While Austen’s and Wollstonecraft’s works are more than capable of standing on their own, taken together they provide a persuasive argument — philosophical and artistic — for the importance of women’s liberty and for the crippling effects of denying that liberty.”

And finally, for true wonks like me, here’s the first portion of a scholarly article that excavates the deeper scholarly roots of Austen’s Lady Susan: “Justice in Epistolary Matters: Revised Rights and Deconstructed Duties in Austen's  Lady Susan”  by Betsy Tontiplaphol  in Persuasions Online #27 (2006)    http://www.jasna.org/persuasions/on-line/vol27no1/tontiplaphol.htm

 “Jane Austen’s Lady Susan has been called a plotter, a flirt, and a villain, but none of these designations effectively accounts for the peculiarities—her linguistic industriousness, distaste for motherhood, and chameleon-like adaptability, to name but a few—that render her characterization so memorable. 

Brodie describes Lady Susan as a figure devoid of psychological depth; when measured against the “the psychological complexity of Anne Elliot,” Brodie argues, Susan represents “the stereotype of the Merry Widow”. 

Anderson, in contrast, reads Austen’s anti-heroine as nothing but psychology. Lady Susan, Anderson maintains, is a psychopath, a diagnosis that she supports with evidence of “superficial charm, adequate intelligence, absence of anxiety, insincerity, lack of remorse or shame, antisocial behavior, and poor judgment”.  What is Lady Susan?  A stock character, a case study, or something else entirely?  

As McKellar contends, her story “fits into the Austen canon no more neatly than Aesop’s bat fit in with the birds or with the beasts”, but such an observation, however fair, does little to resolve the myriad conflicts that face the reader struggling to decipher Susan’s—or, for that matter, Austen’s—motives and objectives.

It is strangely easy to overlook the fact that Lady Susan is, at a fundamental level, a trial novel, trial

 not only in the sense of “attempt” but trial also in the significant judicial sense.  The book is one of Austen’s early attempts at epistolary fiction; perhaps more important, however, is the fact that LS has at its center a woman on trial, a figure whose motives and actions are presented to and scrutinized by a jury composed of characters, readers, and ultimately a narrator.  Susan’s stated goal to have Reginald “doubt the justice of” his sister’s opinion and Mrs. Vernon’s complaint that Susan has “persuaded [Reginald] not merely to forget, but to justify her conduct” are only two of many instances in which the legal-contractual language of justice surfaces in Austen’s rhetoric. Indeed, careful attention to LS’s writing and behavior reveals her to be less a criminal than a would-be legislator.  Her abiding interest in her own rights and duties—and her obsession with manipulating the assumptions and language that define and distribute them—locates her within a theoretical tradition that ranges from John Locke to Mary WOLLSTONECRAFT and beyond.  …”

So, now go see Stillman’s film with all these thoughts in your mind, and I hope it will leave you less puzzled and/or disturbed, and even more entertained, by Austen’s subversive, way-ahead-of-its-time feminist genius, and Stillman’s remarkably fine and faithful adaptation thereof. 

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

Darcy’s stunning (& cunning) vindication of his own right…to re-educate Elizabeth!

I suppose there are still some mainstream Austen scholars who don’t believe Mary Wollstonecraft was a significant influence on Jane Austen’s fiction, but they are fewer in number, and their influence wanes year by year. The bad old days 3 or 4 decades ago--when conservative scholars like Marilyn Butler and Deirdre Le Faye ruled the roost, and dictated opinion about Jane Austen’s supposedly hostile response to Wollstonecraft, the highest profile of the “dangerous”, “Jacobin” “unsex’d females” who dared to challenge male domination of English society in the aftermath of the French Revolution---are long gone.

Instead, we have the likes of Jocelyn Harris convincingly showing the dozen ways in which JA alluded in Emma to Wollstonecraft’s revolutionary A Vindication of the Rights of Women (AVOTROW), and Susan Allen Ford, who, in the 2010 Persuasions Online persuasively demonstrated an allusion to AVOTROW’s extensive coverage of the topic of female education and knowledge, in the witty exchanges between Henry Tilney and Catherine Morland in Northanger Abbey, which track Wollstonecraft’s critique of Dr. Gregory’s conduct book, sexist “wisdom”:  ‘Dr. Gregory…gives his daughters similar advice, irony carefully excluded: “Be even cautious of displaying your good sense. It will be thought you assume a superiority over the rest of the company. But if you happen to have any learning, keep it a profound secret, especially from the men, who generally look with a jealous and malignant eye on a woman of great parts, and a cultivated understanding.’ Gregory defines the exception to his rule—“A man of real genius and candour is far superior to this meanness”—but adds a note of practical caution:  “such a one will seldom fall in your way; and if by accident he should, do not be anxious to shew the full extent of your knowledge”. “ END QUOTE FROM FORD ARTICLE

In that same vein, I had been unaware until just the other day that my recent take on Austen’s late juvenilia villainess/heroine Lady Susan as a superpowerful female Nemesis, sicced on the arrogant, complacent patriarchy by Jane Austen, the goddess of gender equity….  http://tinyurl.com/h72mqm3  …..actually also has Wollstonecraftian roots! As I’ll discuss in greater detail in a future post, I strongly recommend you read two excellent articles, which articulate a number of significant ways in which the young Jane Austen drew upon Wollstonecraft’s protofeminist ideas in constructing Lady Susan, her avenging female “Austen-stein monster”:

[A quick, easy read] “Jane Austen Vindicates the Rights of Women” by Sarah Skwire  June 2016

https://fee.org/articles/jane-austen-vindicates-the-rights-of-women/

&

[This article is longer, requires careful reading] Persuasions Online #27 (2006) by Betsy Tontiplaphol

“Justice in Epistolary Matters: Revised Rights and Deconstructed Duties in Austen's Lady Susan”

http://www.jasna.org/persuasions/on-line/vol27no1/tontiplaphol.htm

Which is all prelude to my topic today: a stunning Wollstonecraft allusion in Pride & Prejudice. I’ve previously argued that the wonky Bennet sister Mary is based in no small part upon her namesake Mary Wollstonecraft. In 2009, I first identified Mary Bennet as the ‘Good Satan of Longbourn’, whispering "The men shan't come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; do we?" in sister Eliza’s ear, trying (in vain) to warn her next elder sister to resist the irresistible Satanic temptation of Darcy-cum-Pemberley. But today, as my Subject Line hints, I’ll lay out for you even more Wollstonecraft – this time on female education---in P&P, hidden in plain sight in one of the most famous passages in the novel—exactly where it ought to be, as you will shortly see.

At the center of Wollstonecraft’s protofeminist ideology was her assertion that the path to autonomy and equality for women would have to be paved by a program of serious, society-wide female education, coordinated with encouragement of women not to conceal, but to give public demonstration of, their intellectual capacities as improved by that serious education.

In AVOTROW Chapter 5, Wollstonecraft gets down to the nitty gritty, as she first (in Section 5.1) takes on, and demolishes, the great sacred cow of female education, Rousseau:

"Whatever is, is right," [Rousseau] then proceeds triumphantly to infer. Granted; yet, perhaps, no aphorism ever contained a more paradoxical assertion. It is a solemn truth with respect to God. He, reverentially I speak, sees the whole at once, and saw its just proportions in the womb of time; but man, who can only inspect disjointed parts, finds many things wrong; and it is a part of the system, and therefore right, that he should endeavour to alter what appears to him to be so, even while he bows to the wisdom of his Creator, and respects the darkness he labours to disperse.

The inference that follows is just, supposing the principle to be sound: "The superiority of ADDRESS, peculiar to the female sex, is a very equitable indemnification for their inferiority in point of strength: without this, woman would not be the companion of man; but his slave: it is by her superiour ART and ingenuity that she preserves her equality, and governs him while she affects to obey. Woman has every thing against her, as well our faults as her own timidity and weakness: she has nothing in her favour, but her subtilty and her beauty. Is it not very reasonable, therefore, she should cultivate both?" GREATNESS OF MIND can never dwell with CUNNING or ADDRESS; for I shall not boggle about words, when their direct signification is insincerity and falsehood; but content myself with observing, that if any class of mankind be so created that it must necessarily be educated by rules, not strictly deducible from truth, virtue is an affair of convention. How could Rousseau dare to assert, after giving this advice, that in the grand end of existence, the object of both sexes should be the same, when he well knew, that the mind formed by its pursuits, is expanded by great views swallowing up little ones, or that it becomes itself little?

Note in particular this line: “Greatness of mind can never dwell with cunning or address” – does it ring any bells for you Janeites? (hint hint)

Now go on to Section 5.3, where it’s the turn of the genial conduct-book god Dr. Gregory (whom Susan Allen Ford discussed, above) to be taken down a peg or three by Wollstonecraft:

“Such paternal solicitude pervades Dr. Gregory's Legacy to his daughters, that I enter on the task of criticism with affectionate respect; but as this little volume has many attractions to recommend it to the notice of the most respectable part of my sex, I cannot silently pass over arguments that so speciously support opinions which, I think, have had the most baneful effect on the morals and manners of the female world….

…The remarks relative to behaviour, though many of them very sensible, I entirely disapprove of, because it appears to me to be beginning, as it were at the wrong end. A cultivated understanding, and an affectionate heart, will never want starched rules of decorum, something more substantial than seemliness will be the result; and, without understanding, the behaviour here recommended, would be rank affectation. Decorum, indeed, is the one thing needful! decorum is to supplant nature, and banish all simplicity and variety of character out of the female world. Yet what good end can all this superficial counsel produce? It is, however, much easier to point out this or that mode of behaviour, than to set the reason to work; but, when the mind has been stored with useful KNOWLEDGE, and strengthened by being employed, the regulation of the behaviour may safely be left to its guidance.

Why, for instance, should the following caution be given, when ART of every kind must contaminate the mind; and why entangle the grand motives of action, which reason and religion equally combine to enforce, with pitiful worldly shifts and slight of hand tricks to gain the applause of gaping tasteless fools? "Be even cautious in displaying your good sense.” It will be thought you assume a superiority over the rest of the company— But if you happen to have any learning keep it a profound secret, especially from the men, who generally look with a jealous and malignant eye on a woman of great parts, and a cultivated understanding." If men of real merit, as he afterwards observes, are superior to this MEANNESS, where is the necessity that the behaviour of the whole sex should be modulated to please fools, or men, who having little claim to respect as individuals, choose to keep close in their phalanx. Men, indeed, who insist on their common superiority, having only this sexual superiority, are certainly very excusable.

...Surely it would have been wiser to have advised women to IMPROVE themselves till they rose above the fumes of vanity; and then to let the public opinion come round—for where are rules of accommodation to stop? The narrow path of truth and virtue inclines neither to the right nor left, it is a straight-forward business, and they who are earnestly pursuing their road, may bound over many decorous prejudices, without leaving modesty behind. Make the heart clean, and give the head employment, and I will venture to predict that there will be nothing offensive in the behaviour.

The AIR OF FASHION, which many young people are so eager to attain, always strikes me like the studied attitudes of some modern prints, copied with tasteless servility after the antiques; the soul is left out, and none of the parts are tied together by what may properly be termed character. This varnish of fashion, which seldom sticks very close to sense, may dazzle the weak; but leave nature to itself, and it will seldom disgust the wise. Besides, when a woman has sufficient sense not to pretend to any thing which she does not understand in some degree, there is no need of determining to hide her talents under a bushel. Let things take their natural course, and all will be well.

It is this system of DISSIMULATION, throughout the volume, that I DESPISE. Women are always to seem to be this and that—yet virtue might apostrophize them, in the words of Hamlet—Seems! I KNOW not seems!—Have that within that passeth show!—“

Did you also hear a little ‘ping’ of Austenian remembrance when you read “It is this system of dissimulation…that I despise”?

In short….if you’ve read these passages in AVOTROW with reasonable care, and have paid particular attention to the ALL CAPS words and phrases, the Janeites among you must have already guessed which passage I am going to present to you now from P&P, which I claim was JA’s deliberate echoing of those very same passages in AVOTROW. It’s the scene in Chapter 8 in which the subject of (shocking!) true female accomplishment comes up – and once again, note that the ALL CAPS words and phrases are the very same ones we saw in the AVOTROW passages quoted above:

"Oh! certainly," cried [Darcy’s] faithful assistant [Miss Bingley], "no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough KNOWLEDGE of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her AIR and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her ADDRESS and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the IMPROVEMENT of her mind by extensive reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?"

"I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united."

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.

"Elizabeth Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very MEAN ART."

"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly ADDRESSED, "there is a MEANNESS in all the ARTS which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to CUNNING is DESPICABLE."

Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject….”

And while we’re at it, also have a peek at these two other lines in P&P, which, I suggest, constitute additional tips of the literary hat by JA to those same passages in Chapter 5 of AVOTROW:

Chapter 3: “[Bingley’s] sisters were fine women, with an AIR OF decided FASHION.” 

Ch. 48: [Mr. Bennet] "Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which, considering the event, shows some GREATNESS OF MIND."

So, what to make of all of this? My preliminary take is as follows. Over a year ago, I suggested here…

http://sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2015/05/when-in-doubt-lead-jane-austens.html

…that the book of which Darcy was reading Volume 1 in the Netherfield salon was surely a novel, and probably Burney’s Cecilia. I’d like to now amend my earlier guess, and instead suggest that the book was none other than Wollstonecraft’s Vindication! I.e., Darcy at that moment is trying to get Elizabeth’s attention, and show her what a great guy he really is, by winking repeatedly at Wollstonecraft, whom he guesses (I believe correctly) is a writer whom Elizabeth has read and admired.

And the spectacular climax to that scene occurs when the witty Darcy (ergo also, obviously, the witty Jane Austen) comes up a devastating bon mot right after Eliza leaves the room (but when he knew Eliza would be listening at the keyhole!). Caroline Bingley (the quintessence of the elegant female Rousseau, Gregory, et al. held up as an ideal) attempts to diss Elizabeth’s “paltry device, a very mean art”, and Darcy’s memorable riposte has, we all now can see, an unmistakable Wollstonecraftian subtext!:

"Undoubtedly there is a MEANNESS in all the ARTS which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to CUNNING is DESPICABLE."

No wonder “Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject”! And you will also be interested to know ---as Darcy clearly knew-- that the word “cunning” is used an extraordinary total of TWENTY NINE times by Wollstonecraft in AVOTROW, in almost all cases to refer to the actions of “ladies” like Miss Bingley! I believe his true audience was Elizabeth eavesdropping at the door, who must have been delighted to hear herself so cleverly defended!

I conclude with two other passages in P&P which are undoubtedly JA’s final winks in the novel at Wollstonecraft in general, and at Darcy’s “cunning” stratagems in the Netherfield salon in particular:

Chapter 39: She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane! who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. Nor was DARCY’S VINDICATION, though grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery. Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear the one without involving the other.

Chapter 43: Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in VINDICATION of his behaviour to Wickham; and therefore gave them to understand, in as guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from his relations in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different construction; and that his character was by no means so faulty, nor Wickham's so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.

In both instances, we grasp the sad, almost tragic, irony that Elizabeth has come to revere Darcy’s letter to her as a kind of Vindication of the Right Behaviour of Mr. Darcy! It is almost tragic, because, in the shadow story of P&P, we can see the clear progression of Elizabeth in precisely the opposite direction to the one advocated so passionately by Wollstonecraft. I.e., Elizabeth, in the first half of P&P, nails Darcy for the narcissistic, cruel jerk he is—but then, as illustrated by these two passages in the second half of the novel, as a result of reading Darcy’s self-serving, mendacious “Vindication” (which stands in relation to Wollstonecraft’s classic as a Satanic text compares to the Bible!), Elizabeth surrenders her spirit, her intellect, even her conscience (vis a vis Jane), all in a craven, desperate capitulation to Darcy’s systematic, cunning, and entirely successful campaign of persuasion.

Eliza, you shoulda listened to “Mary”.  

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

P.S. The next Austen novel I am going to comb for traces of Wollstonecraft influence will be Sense & Sensibility, given that four of the other five usages of the word “vindication” in the entire Austen novelistic canon, besides the two in P&P, appear in the novel which JA completed between writing Lady Susan and completing Pride & Prejudice, all of which suggests JA’s sustained and constant interest in Wollstonecraft’s ideas throughout JA’s writing career:

“When the particulars of this conversation were repeated by Miss Dashwood to her sister, as they very soon were, the effect on her was not entirely such as the former had hoped to see. Not that Marianne appeared to distrust the truth of any part of it, for she listened to it all with the most steady and submissive attention, made neither objection nor remark, attempted no VINDICATION of Willoughby, and seemed to shew by her tears that she felt it to be impossible.

…Elinor was to be the comforter of others in her own distresses, no less than in theirs; and all the comfort that could be given by assurances of her own composure of mind, and a very earnest VINDICATION of Edward from every charge but of imprudence, was readily offered.

…Willoughby, "poor Willoughby," as she now allowed herself to call him, was constantly in her thoughts; she would not but have heard his VINDICATION for the world, and now blamed, now acquitted herself for having judged him so harshly before. 

…Mrs. Dashwood did not hear unmoved the VINDICATION of her former favourite. She rejoiced in his being cleared from some part of his imputed guilt;--she was sorry for him;--she wished him happy. “

Jane Austen Society of Pakistan

I've been saying for years that many of my blog readership come from countries like Pakistan and the Middle East, where conditions for women in 2016 are, sadly, all too similar in a number of ways to the conditions for women which faced women in Jane Austen's England in 1816. It makes perfect sense that female readers in those countries would be drawn to Austen, and I believe they'd be even more interested in her novels if they were aware of Jane Austen's strong, unswerving feminist outrage about the subordinate position of women in her world, hidden just beneath the surface of all of her novels.

And now I just read the following wonderful article about the thriving new Jane Austen Society of Pakistan, so I reproduce the article here, because I found the website a pain in the butt to go from page to page in the article:

http://www.catchnews.com/culture-news/jane-austen-has-a-new-cult-following-and-it-is-in-pakistan-1468341752.html   Jane Austen has a new cult following. And it is in Pakistan  by Lamat Hasan

“You've probably heard of the Jane Austen cults in America and Australia. What you wouldn't have heard of is such a cult in Pakistan that meets to read Austen, sometimes in Regency-inspired attire. But such a cult exists, and this makes Pakistanis just as huge devotees of the English writer as the rest of the world.

The story began in Islamabad two years ago when Laaleen Khan, an ardent Austen fan since her childhood, decided to float the Jane Austen Society of Pakistan (JASP). An eclectic bunch of Austen fans - all women - started to meet up in Islamabad to take an Austen quotes quiz or play the Jane Austen Matchmaker card game. Or, better still, dress up in Regency-inspired attire. Two years down the line, there are nearly 800 members of the society, with chapters in Islamabad, Karachi and Lahore.

Khan tells Catch why.

"There are so many parallels between Austen's Regency-era society and South Asian society today. The obsession with the marriage market, for one thing, complete with concern for reputation, eligibility, decorum, propriety and ancestry juxtaposed with elements of snobbery, misogyny and hypocrisy. We have our share of disapproving Lady Catherine de Bourgh-esque society aunties, rakish Wickhams and Willoughbys, pretentious Mrs Eltons and holier-than-thou Mr Collins types!"

Jane Austen died in 1817 at the age of 41 with six novels to her name and with ironically little fame in her own lifetime. Yet the clubs of Janeites are bursting at the seams across the globe. The world may find this fetish for Austen a little odd, especially in a country which is viewed as one of the most dangerous in the world, but Khan has an answer to that. "Radicalisation, extremism and bigotry are tragic and terrifying phenomena happening all over the world, in both eastern and western hemispheres and among various socio-political groups and ethnicities. I honestly can't see its direct relevance with literary pursuits in Pakistan."

Khan says that Austen fans have universal similarities and shared interests despite any disparities in personal, professional, geographical or ethnic backgrounds:  “Those of us in the Commonwealth including South Asia often grow up with an affinity for British authors. I'd say Austen isn't mainstream but more of a niche, though in recent years she's also been part of trans-Atlantic popular culture. She remains a perennial favourite for those of us who were introduced to her, often through books passed along by family members or part of an O level curriculum, for instance."

For Khan, Austen's words contain societal truths and witty dialogue juxtaposed with brief descriptions - quite contemporary in style. "She isn't a tedious read unlike, say, Henry James or - dare I say it-Tolstoy! She's constantly evolving thanks to recurring screen adaptations and fan fiction along with academic analyses, festivals, tours, merchandise and the efforts of Jane Austen societies all over the world. She's been translated into many languages, including Urdu and Hindi. In fact, Urdu television drama narratives often resemble Austen storylines. She's here to stay."

Within two years the membership has grown to 800. And, apart from the Islamabad chapter, there's talk of chapters in Karachi and Lahore too. "Our online community is 94% female, eclectic and very international. Many authors, bloggers and professionals from various fields including banking, international development, medicine and law are part of JASP, ranging primarily from 21 to 55 but mostly in our 30s," says Khan. Members she has met up with in person are mostly journalists and media correspondents, but also health professionals and doctors, academics and barristers ranging from about 25 to 42 and 100% female. The criterion is basically enthusiasm along with a keen interest in all things Austen. Our online community members are approaching 800 in number, including 45 nationalities around the world and many expat Pakistanis. 250 of our community members reside in Pakistan. About 30 have met in person so far and a few more via Skype."

She describes JASP as a private literary group which is very welcoming. "We meet every month or two at cafés and discuss pertinent topics, indulge in themed quizzes and games and discuss our plans. Our annual Regency-inspired tea party is whimsical and a little eccentric so a residence is best for that."

"So far, our Islamabad members have been meeting up for one year. Some of our Karachi members met up for the first time recently. Lahore's next on our agenda," she says.

Khan tells Catch who came first in her life - Colin Firth or Jane Austen? "Colin Firth is an incredible actor and a wonderful human being. I'm a Firthie for sure. In my case, the novels came first."

The love affair with Austen began when Khan received a box set of Austen titles on her twelfth birthday from her English aunt. She was immediately intrigued. At the time, she adored Pride and Prejudice, found Mansfield Park a little dull and thought Persuasion was about 'older' people - one of the reasons she is so drawn to it now. Of the other Austen novels she says she related to Northanger Abbey instantly as she has been obsessed with Agatha Christie mysteries since the age of 10, so she empathised with Catherine Morland's inherent curiosity. But she didn't appreciate Sense and Sensibility and Emma properly until she watched the films in 1995-96.

By the time she was enrolled at university she'd caught Darcy Fever thanks to the BBC's Pride and Prejudice series, and her thesis was an analysis of postmodernism in Austen screen adaptations.

"I'm enthralled by Austenian screen adaptations and fandom - the estates, the costumes, the accessories, the Regency world that's also been depicted so charmingly by Georgette Heyer. Last year, I visited Bath for the first time and I was in heaven!"

JASP is a literary group that connects based on shared interests that bear absolutely no relevance with social cliques. The group isn't supported or funded by any programme so there is limited outreach and resources. “But between us, there's always positive energy. We exchange dynamic thoughts and ideas so our chats are inspiring as well as loads of fun," says Khan. The group hopes to raise funds for literacy programmes in Pakistan through the Jane Austen Literacy Foundation, founded by Caroline Jane Knight, Austen's fifth great niece. Khan has worn several hats in the past decade or so - from television production in New York, Lahore and the UK to marketing and PR consulting in Islamabad and Lahore to lifestyle journalism. "I'm now committed to authoring Austen-inspired commercial fiction, starting with an exciting anthology by contributors from Pakistan. There's been an encouraging response from international publishers already."

She is happy that JASP received generous editorial coverage in Jane Austen's Regency World Magazine, the official magazine of the Jane Austen Centre in Bath, and that she won a short essay contest hosted by the Jane Austen Society of Europe. Khan is now preparing to be a panellist at the Jane Austen Society of North America's 'Emma At 200' Annual General Meeting in Washington DC in October, representing Pakistan. With fans like Khan in Pakistan, it's no wonder Jane Austen's legacy continues to live on across the world.”  END QUOTE FROM ARTICLE 

I would love to have a Skype conversation with members of JASP, and talk about those parallels between 2016 Pakistan and 1816 England.

Cheers, ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

Miss Bates the uncommon, out-Churchilling, dowager princess of Enscombe?

In followup to my posts the other day about Jane Austen’s punning on variants of the word “common” in P&P with respect to social class, I was just browsing in Emma, which perhaps is the Austen novel most pervasively concerned with matters of social class – mainly because Emma is, far and away, the Austen heroine most obsessed with such matters, and in the snobbiest way imaginable! I figured there has to be some revisiting of that punning somewhere in Emma, and as you’ll see, below, there is.

My eye was quickly caught by the following passage in Chapter 3:

“Mrs. Bates, the widow of a former vicar of Highbury, was a very old lady, almost past every thing but tea and quadrille. She lived with her single daughter in a very small way, and was considered with all the regard and respect which a harmless old lady, under such untoward circumstances, can excite. Her daughter enjoyed A MOST UNCOMMON DEGREE OF POPULARITY for a woman neither young, handsome, rich, nor married.”

While the surface meaning of “uncommon” as “unusual” is perfectly intelligible, I also detect that alternative, punny meaning of “uncommon” as “not a commoner” as having been intended by JA. Here we have JA setting Miss Bates (whom JA doesn’t even name beyond “her single daughter”, so as to subtly emphasize her being “nobody”, in Emma’s terminology) in the context of her social world. So this is precisely where a pun on status would be most appropriate and telling.

The whiff of royalty in that punning “most uncommon” also reminded me of Princess Caroline, who was very popular among the English people despite her all-too-public missteps, and I believe JA meant for the unfortunate Princess to come to mind for her contemporary readers as well, when reading those introductory words about Miss Bates. This is especially so, given (as I wrote not long ago) that JA, later in the novel, covertly, but unmistakably, alludes to Princess Caroline and her open letter to her husband the Prince Regent strenuously objecting to being denied parental access to her own daughter, Princess Charlotte.

I went on searching in Emma for further punning on “common” vis a vis Miss Bates, and look what I found next, in this noblesse oblige passage in Chapter 21:

“Emma saw [Knightley’s] anxiety, and wishing to appease it, at least for the present, said, and with a sincerity which no one could question—"[Jane] is a sort of elegant creature that one cannot keep one's eyes from. I am always watching her to admire; and I do pity her from my heart."

Mr. Knightley looked as if he were more gratified than he cared to express; and before he could make any reply, Mr. Woodhouse, whose thoughts were on the Bates's, said—"It is a great pity that their circumstances should be so confined! a great pity indeed! and I have often wished—but it is so little one can venture to do—small, trifling presents, of ANY THING UNCOMMON—Now we have killed a porker, and Emma thinks of sending them a loin or a leg…”

This passage is all about the condescension of the (self-styled) great to the little people, and so it is a wry irony indeed for Mr. Woodhouse to refer to his own hypocritical self congratulation via the word “uncommon”!

Based on those two examples, we cannot be surprised to find a third at the very end of the Box Hill episode in Chapter 43, as Emma reflects on her own behavior:

“She felt it at her heart. How could she have been so brutal, so cruel to Miss Bates! How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in any one she valued! And how suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, OF COMMON KINDNESS!”

But then, two chapters later, “common” pops up again in the context of Emma’s attempts to repair the classist damage she caused at Box Hill:

“…Dear Emma has been to call on Mrs. and Miss Bates, Mr. Knightley, as I told you before. She is always so attentive to them!"

Emma's colour was heightened by this unjust praise; and with a smile, and shake of the head, which spoke much, she looked at Mr. Knightley.—It seemed as if there were an instantaneous impression in her favour, as if his eyes received the truth from hers, and all that had passed of good in her feelings were at once caught and honoured.--He looked at her with a glow of regard. She was warmly gratified—and in another moment still more so, by a little movement of more than COMMON FRIENDLINESS on his part.—He took her hand…”

In Chapter 52, we read one of Miss Bates’s shorter effusions, which includes the word “commonly”:

"Thank you, dear Miss Woodhouse, you are all kindness.—It is impossible to say—Yes, indeed, I quite understand—dearest Jane's prospects—that is, I do not mean.—But she is charmingly recovered.—How is Mr. Woodhouse?—I am so glad.—Quite out of my power.—Such a happy little circle as you find us here.—Yes, indeed.—Charming young man!—that is—so very friendly; I mean good Mr. Perry!—such attention to Jane!"—And from her great, her MORE THAN COMMONLY THANKFUL DELIGHT towards Mrs. Elton for being there, Emma guessed that there had been a little show of resentment towards Jane, from the vicarage quarter, which was now graciously overcome.”

It’s very interesting to see the phrase “more than commonly” used to describe the thankfulness expressed by Miss Bates to Mrs. Elton for visiting. Emma guesses that this is Miss Bates’s response to some prior expression of resentment not witnessed by Emma, arising from Jane’s ultimate rejection of Mrs. Elton’s endless parade of noblesse oblige, in seeking to strand Jane in a governessing position. Once more the word “common” has been used with respect to Miss Bates in a context saturated with interclass relations.

And finally, in Chapter 54, we get an echo of Darcy’s and Eliza’s “uncommon” repartee at the Netherfield Ball (which I wrote about the other day), when Frank speaks to Emma about his now unconcealed fiancée Jane:

“…Emma was delighted, and only wanted him to go on in the same style; but [Frank’s] mind was the next moment in his own concerns and with his own Jane, and his next words were, "Did you ever see such a skin?—such smoothness! such delicacy!—and yet without being actually fair.—One cannot call her fair. It is A MOST UNCOMMON COMPLEXION, with her dark eye-lashes and hair—A MOST DISTINGUISHING COMPLEXION! SO PECULIARLY THE LADY IN IT.—Just colour enough for beauty."

“So peculiarly the lady in it”--- the pun on class in “uncommon” is in this final iteration in Emma subtly but clearly foregrounded by Frank explicitly suggesting that Jane’s delicate beauty gives her a free pass into the higher class. The arc begun with emphasis on the lowness of Miss Bates has now been turned topsy turvy, as her beloved niece is now not only “nobody” anymore, but is expected to shortly become the great lady of Enscombe, taking the place recently occupied by Frank’s imperious aunt – so in that sense, we may expect Miss Bates to join her niece at Enscombe, whereupon we may channel Mr. Weston and say that Miss Bates will regain and even outstrip her long-lost social elevation, and thereby out-Churchill the late great Mrs. Churchill!  ;)

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter 

Macaulay & the uncommonly clever (Shakespearean) pun in P&P that he repeated (twice)

This is in followup to my post yesterday about Jane Austen’s uncommonly clever punning on variants of the word “common” in P&P. I was curious to know whether any Janeite had ever noticed any of this punning before myself, and so far I’ve found only one, who did pick up on part of it --- and, to my great delight, it turns out to have been only 20 years after P&P was published, and the name of that clever elf was Thomas Babington Macaulay!

For those who don’t recognize the name, Macaulay is well known to modern Austen scholars for having been a very influential very early adopter of what we would today call Austenmania— his great claim to Austenian fame is that he dared to speak of Jane Austen in the same breath with Shakespeare in the following passage of a published essay of his more than a century and half ago:

“Shakespeare has had neither equal nor second. But among the writers who, in the point which we have noticed, have approached nearest to the manner of the great master we have no hesitation in placing Jane Austen, a woman of whom England is justly proud. She has given us a multitude of characters, all, in a certain sense, commonplace, all such as we meet every day. Yet they are all as perfectly discriminated from each other as if they were the most eccentric of human beings.”

As I’ll show you, below, I now believe that the above, lavish praise for JA’s writing was in part based on Macaulay’s subtle appreciation of JA’s sharp sense of punning humor, which was nothing less than…Shakespearean, as you’ll see yet another example of in this post – let me take you step by step.

First, in December 2011 I pointed out the following pun in the narration introducing Sir William Lucas in P&P:

“For, though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made him COURTEOUS."

Of course JA’s pun is that Sir William’s presentation at “court” had made him “courteous”, and it’s especially clever, because it is not only funny, it also reveals JA’s awareness of the origin of the word “courteous”, which surely was coined to describe the carefully deferential behavior of a courtier at a court, before the word spread to the wider, non-royal, social world.

Second, in April 2014, I pointed out that I believed JA had linked the words “courteous” and “uncommon” to Sir Wiliam Lucas, in no small part so as to draw a parallel between him and Shakespeare’s word-drunk, holy fool Bottom from A Midsummer Night’s Dream; specifically, when Oberon sends Puck to give Bottom a  jackass’s head, and to charm Titania into loving (and making love to) Bottom. I claimed that JA was pointing to the following speeches by Titania (the first of which also happens to include the famous Titania Acrostic first discovered by the Baconian William Stone Booth a century ago), speeches which contain, in close proximity, both “no common” and “courteous”:

TITANIA

O,     Out of this wood do not desire to go:
T      Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no;

I        I am a spirit of NO COMMON rate;
T       The summer still doth tend upon my state;
AN   And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I        I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
A      And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,

TITANIA
Be kind and COURTEOUS to this gentleman;
Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries…

And that brings me to my main point, which is the following anecdote first written about by JASNA member Anita Fielding in the 1993 issue of Persuasions, and then summarized in Jane Austen and her Readers, 1786–1945 by Katie Halsey (2012), at p. 193, which I found by Googling “elegant breeding not being uncommon”:

“Macaulay used the medium of a repeated reference to P&P’s Sir William Lucas to signal his amused disapproval of the pomposity of particular acquaintances. In June 1832, he wrote to [sisters] Hannah and Margaret: ‘He [Mr. Edwin Pearson] condescended to quiz me through his glass, and then to extend his hand and congratulate me on my appointment [to the House of Commons]. ‘Such instances of elegant breeding,” as Sir William Lucas says, “are not uncommon at the Court”. A year later, he repeated the joke, writing to Margaret, “On Monday the House does not sit on account of the Queen’s Birthday. But Lord Goderich has asked me to dinner—such instances of elegant breeding not being uncommon, as Sir William Lucas well observed, about the court; and I must go in all my official finery.”  END QUOTE

And now I come to the punch line of this post--- did you notice what were the specific circumstances of both occasions, one year apart, on which Macaulay invoked Sir William’s bon mot?

The first was the occasion of the young Macaulay’s appointment to the House of Commons, when Macaulay kissed the King’s ring. The latter was a year later, on the occasion of the Queen’s Birthday, which, as Macaulay point out, occurred on a day when the House of Commons was not in session.

House of Commons, get it? ;)

But here’s the final irony. If you read Anita Fielding’s much more detailed account of the first of Macaulay’s two “uncommon” moments, you have to wonder how it was possible that Macaulay, in calling Pearson a Sir William Lucas-like fool, did not realize that he was also inadvertently hoisting himself on that same petard of fawning adulation toward royalty:

Anita Fielding  Persuasions (1993) “Macaulay and Miss Austen”:

“Later in the month, when Macaulay is back in London, one of his letters is inspired by a rare parliamentary event.  He relates to his sisters how the House of Commons had gone in a body to St. James’s Palace to present an address to King William on his safe escape from a discharged Greenwich pensioner who had thrown a stone at him and hit his hat.  Macaulay describes the day, along with an aside from Jane Austen.

“Oh if you but knew of the pleasure of being admitted to the Royal presence!  I cannot keep my elation to myself.  I cannot describe my feelings in dull creeping prose.  I burst forth in unpremeditated verse, worthy of the judicious poet I so often quote.

I passed in adorning The whole of the morning When the hand of the King must be kissed, must be kissed.

I put on my back A fine suit of black And twelve ells of lace on my wrist on my wrist.

I went to the levee And squeezed through the bevy Till I made good my way to his fist to his fist.

 But my wing fails me.  I must creep in prose for a few lines.  At one we assembled in the House of Commons.  For this was the day appointed for taking up our address to the King …  The House looked like a parterre of tulips – all red and blue …  Much gold lace was there and much silver lace – many military uniforms – yeomanry uniforms – navy uniforms, official uniforms …  Then the Speaker rose and walked majestically down stairs to his state carriage, – an old thing covered with painting and gilding of the days of Queen Anne …  We came behind in about a hundred carriages … at hearse pace, forming a string from Westminster Hall to St James’s palace.  The carriage stopped.  We alighted at the door of a long passage, matted, and furnished only with large wooden benches. Along this passage we went to a stone staircase.  On the landing places guards with their swords and carbines were in attendance to slay us if we behaved improperly.  At the top of the staircase we passed through two ranks of beef-eaters, blazing in scarlet and gold, to a table, where we wrote our names, each on two cards. One card we left on the table with the page.  The other we took with us to give to the Lord in Waiting.

As a member of the House of Commons, I had peculiar advantages.  For before the levee we were admitted to present our address.  The throne room was however so crowded that while we were going through the ceremony I heard little, and saw nothing.  But I mistake – one thing I saw – a great fool with a cocked hat and a coat like that of the fifer of a band, Mr. Edwin Pearson, who was performing his duties as Exon.  He condescended to quiz me through his glass, and then to extend his hand and congratulate me on my appointment.  “Such instances of elegant breeding,” – as Sir William Lucas says, “are not uncommon at the Court.”  When we had walked out backward, trampling on each other’s toes and kicking the skin of each other’s shins, the levee began, and we were re-admitted singly to the apartment which we had just left in a body.  The King stood near a door.  We marched before him and out at a door on the other side, bowing and scraping the whole way.  When I came to him, I gave my card to the Lord in Waiting who notified the name to the King. His Majesty put forth his hand.  I kneeled, or rather curtseyed, and kissed the sacred object most reverently.  Then I walked away backwards bowing down my head like a bulrush, and made my way through the rooms into the street with all expedition.  (2:141-2)”

I am pretty sure that Jane Austen would have smiled at the irony of Macaulay simultaneously being so uncommonly clueful about Sir William Lucas, and yet so clueless about his own inner Sir William Lucas, without any apparent awareness of that irony.


ADDED 7/10/16 at 6:30 pm PST:

In response to my above claim that Macaulay had hoist himself on his own Sir William Lucasian petard with his effusions about kissing the King’s ring, I received two dissenting responses:

Nancy Mayer: “Why do you say he had a bit of Sir William in him? His tone is entirely different from that of that William….I may be misreading, but to me he sounds like he is, or is trying to be, satirical.”

Jane Fox: “That was my impression. He isn't making fun of Sir William so much as comparing himself to him and making fun of his own involvement.”

You ladies are ABSOLUTELY correct, I read too quickly, and was too happy to find Macaulay being inconsistent to go back and double check. Mea culpa. There is no question Macaulay was being ironic the entire way through. The doggerel about the King makes it crystal clear.

There is an irony, Nancy and Jane, in having both of you catch me being insensitive to irony. It is poetic justice, and will be a good reminder to me in the future to double check before opining on such matters. Irony is a slippery matter --- it can be tied down, but it requires patience to reach reliable readings.

And Macaulay being satirical about meeting the King would of course be entirely consistent with his detecting JA’s complex irony about “common” in P&P. If only Macaulay could have known about the  “Prince of Whales” secret answer to the charade in Emma , and the satirical insincerity of the Dedication to the Prince Regent, it would have greatly added to his pleasure in all things Austen, I am sure.

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter