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Thanks! -- Arnie Perlstein, Portland, OR

Monday, December 19, 2011

Jane Austen's Letter 57 and the Big Bad Wolf

I mentioned a long while back that the Big Bad Wolf would be mentioned in my book about Jane Austen, and now is the moment to give a more precise preview:

The passage in Letter 57 that I had in mind at that time was the following:

"The masons are now repairing the chimney, which they found in such a state as to make it wonderful that it should have stood so long, and next to impossible that another violent wind should not blow it down. We may, therefore, thank /you/ perhaps for saving us from being thumped with old bricks."

And here's a funny thing about the above passage. When you Google search the following group of words (as I did in late October 2007)......

chimney bricks "blow it down" house

...the first five hits in Google Web pertain in some way or another to the tale of the Three Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf, and the sixth hit is for..... Jane Austen's Letter 57!

Is this just a bizarre coincidence?

I claim not, especially because, among other things, _both_ Charles _and_ Frank Austen were Free_masons_, and also because the lethal fantasy that JA conjures up about being thumped with old bricks fits so uncannily with the action of that famous dark children's story.

And here's the best part of it all----before the Wolf dies after going down the chimney of the _brick_ house that the pigs build as their final defensive strategy, the preceding house that the pigs built was made of _twigs_. And what would be another way of describing a house of twigs?

Wouldn't we call it a "wood house"? As in Emma _Wood_ _house_?

So what does it all mean? My speculations in that regard are too complicated to lay out in a blog post, because it touches on several far flung aspects of Jane Austen's biography and fiction---but suffice to say for now that I think that this is a coded metaphor for events that took place at some point in the Austen family itself, and part of the clue to the meaning of this tale-within-a-letter (analogous to the charades embedded in Ch. 9 of Emma, and Lovers Vows embedded in a half dozen chapters of Mansfield Park) comes in another strange anomaly in Letter 57, which is contained in the following passage:

"I wish my Brother joy of completing his 30th year..."

What's so strange about that? Here's what Le Faye writes about this passage: "Jane Austen must have been joking--Edward Austen Knight was in fact 40, and his birthday [on October 7, 1808] made him 41"

I would suggest that while JA on the surface pretended to be joking, her making a mistake of exactly one decade in her elder brother's age was actually a clue to the meaning of the The Big Bad Wolf inset tale set forth above.

All of which takes JA's fantasy to a never never land far far removed from mere home-y details about an actual chimney and an actual windstorm in Southampton, England in October, 1808.

And a Happy Chanukah to all, and to all a good night!

Cheers, ARNIE

The Ladies of LLang--- .....Pemberley?: Oh, dear, one case out of ten, indeed!

Charlotte Lucas: "there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection than she feels."

In Austen L and Janeites, Diane Reynolds wrote "The two statements above tell us much about Charlotte Lucas but don't necessarily hold true universally or go together." about the above sentences spoken by Charlotte Lucas, which I raised for discussion here:

sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-without-encouragement.html

Here is my reply:

Very interesting! All the examples you give from the novels, Diane, are of men being encouraged into love by women, and I will leave it for others to respond to you in regard to those interesting examples, as there is much to consider in each of them, each with a different wrinkle.

But....what I find particularly fascinating is something else which you and I both see, as I gather from the end of your above quoted comment, i.e., you agree with me that reading those two sentences _together_ gives that first sentence a whole different meaning than it has when read _alone_ .

[And now I add the following lure: if you have not already gathered from my Subject Line, by the time you get to the end of this post, you'll know why that off-center perspective on Charlotte's pronouncement turned out to be extremely rewarding, in a way I had absolutely no conscious awareness or anticipation of when I started writing this post!]

When those two sentences of Charlotte's are read together, they seem to apply only to _men_ requiring encouragement in order to fall in love with women. But when you only read the first sentence _alone_, it could theoretically apply to the encouragement required for a man _or_ a woman to fall in love.

And note that Charlotte gives not one but _two_ examples of the kind of encouragement that would be effective in generating feelings of love: "There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment...."

We can see the _vanity_ in several of the examples you gave, where a clever woman manipulates a foolish man, via his highly susceptibly flatterable ego. And note the fine distinction drawn at different times by Mary Bennet and Mr. Darcy, where pride (self-esteem) might be pardonable, but vanity (basking in admiration by others) would not be. I.e., vanity is the inseparable partner of flattery. So vanity seems, in Austen's world, to be an encouragement to _men_ to fall in love.

But what about _gratitude_? Off the top of my head, I can't think of an example of a man in a JA novel falling in love with a woman because he feels _grateful_ to her. But...did you ever notice how many times we hear about _Lizzy's_ gratitude toward Darcy during the final volume of P&P? It is a virtual drumbeat, there must be a dozen such references! And perhaps, if we recall Charlotte's aphorism, that is _not_ a good thing, because it suggests that Lizzy's gratitude has been a major factor in making her think she really loves Darcy, rather than some purer form of love. And certainly Henry Crawford brazenly attempts to win Fanny's heart by helping William, which causes Fanny to feel strong gratitude, however unwillingly, toward Henry, as a result.

And so I suspect that Charlotte (and Jane Austen) believed the two genders were roughly equal in their vulnerability to encouragement in the falling-in-love department, but that each gender was susceptible to a fundamentally different sort of encouragement.

But...I believe Charlotte (and Jane Austen) were also cynical about their fellow females, in thinking that women often fell in love way _too_ easily, even with _no_ encouragement at all, or else very little! And in that opinion, Charlotte would be (unawares) agreeing with Mrs. Gardiner, who, I think, knows she is whistling in the dark when she flatters Lizzy with this overly generous appraisal of Lizzy's sensibleness:

"You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly...."

I think it's overgenerous, because it seems clear to me that if Wickham had not jilted Lizzy for the heiress Miss King, Lizzy might very well have fallen in love with Wickham, because Lizzy really is that immature!

And that was where I originally intended to end this post, until I reread Charlotte's second sentence one last time, when she wrote:

"....In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection than she feels...."

It suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks that even though everyone reads that _second_ sentence as if it reads....

"In nine cases out of ten a woman had better show more affection TO A MAN than she feels."

It actually does not say _anything_ at all about the gender of the person to whom more affection should be shown!!!!

So, has everyone who has read that sentence as gender-specific been correct, in penetrating to the core of _all_ that Charlotte meant by her inscrutable, enigmatic, riddling--indeed Kremlinesque---aphorism about love? I say "No!"

I think you all must by now know where I am going with this, but for anyone who doesn't, I will make myself abundantly clear---I am _definitely_ not the first person to suggest that Charlotte might be a lesbian--but I am pretty sure I _am_ the first person to point to this sentence spoken by Charlotte as strong evidence of it!

What I am claiming, in short, is that Charlotte is a lesbian, in deepest concealment from the Meryton gossip mill----and _that_ is why--along with a desire for financial security---Charlotte is willing to marry a man towards whom she feels neither love, respect, nor desire. As a lesbian married to a man like Mr. Collins, whom she could totally control without fear of his realizing it, she could, with her considerable skills and gifts in the realm of interpersonal relations, manage, over time, to discreetly carry on whatever relationship she could manage---"accidentally", of course!----with a female lover, with small risk of discovery. And what, after all, was her alternative? Charlotte was not the type to even attempt to live an openly lesbian lifestyle like the Ladies of Llangolen!

Speaking of whom....

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ladies_of_Llangollen

"Their families lived only two miles (3 km) from each other....."

In addition to a real age difference (6 years between Lizzy and Charlotte, six_teen_ years between the Ladies of Llangollen), that geographical proximity growing up is also exactly like Lizzy and Charlotte!

"... They met in 1768, and quickly became friends. Over the years they formulated a plan for a private rural retreat......The ladies were known throughout Britain, but have been said to have led "a rather unexciting life". Queen Charlotte wanted to see their cottage and persuaded the King to grant them a pension. Eventually their families came to tolerate them..."

....I now invite you to take note of the _middle_ name of Eleanor Butler, the elder of the two Ladies, which was the same as the Christian name of the Queen who "patronized" them ----- Charlotte!

[brief pause while those still with me on this take a deep breath, to take a different tack before my final destination......]

At the recent JASNA SW Calif. event where I was privileged to be on the same slate of speakers along with the amazing Dr. Cheryl Kinney, she drew admiring nods and smiles from the audience when she at one point in her talk stated her own medically-expert speculation that Jane Austen had, by the sheer brilliance of her powers of observation of the human animal, written a description of the symptoms of her own Addison's Disease [if that is indeed what killed her, which of course is in hot dispute these days] a full 30 years prior to the first officially recognized medical description of those symptoms.

I would like to now add another feather in JA's observational cap, by pointing to the way she slips one additional hint into that last sentence spoken by Charlotte Lucas, per my alternative reading of lesbian subtext, which relates to the recent exchange between Michelle Bachmann and a gay-friendly voter in Iowa, in which Bachmann expressed her skepticism about the otherwise universally acknowledged estimate that about 10% of the population is gay or lesbian. That statistic of ten percent is _exactly_ what came to my mind when I looked closely at Charlotte's statistical speculation: "....in nine cases out of ten...". It suggests to me that Jane Austen had concluded, from her own observations, that the percentage of gays and lesbians in her world was about 10%, and, if we believe Kinsey et al--as I do--then she got it _exactly_ right!

And, best of all, this interpretation fits perfectly with the _content_ of Charlotte's wisdom about love, in the most poignantly ironic way. I.e., for the 90% of women who were _heterosexual_, it would indeed be wise to show more affection than they feel toward the _men_ they wish would fall in love with them, because it works, PLUS there is nothing socially unacceptable about a woman doing this vis a vis a man. However....for the 10% of women who were _lesbian_, given the likely horrid treatment they would receive from the world at large, and perhaps also from a straight woman they were interested in, whom they incorrectly guessed to be lesbian, it would be wisest to show as _little_ feeling as possible toward the female object of desire, but instead to be extraordinarily careful in this regard.

Which is, I suggest to you, a perfect description of the lesbian Charlotte Lucas's "courtship" of Elizabeth Bennet during the course of P&P! My sense is that Charlotte has been happy with the status quo for several years, in terms of her relationship with Elizabeth---being her closest friend (and perhaps closer in same ways even than with sister Jane Bennet), and having ample time to spend together. And then, trouble! Lizzy blossoms into womanhood, and the men start buzzing around Lizzy like pollinating bees! It is suddenly imperative that Charlotte take action, and that's when she seizes the moment, plucks Mr. Collins out from under Mrs. Bennet's careless eye, and then goes about her machinations (as per Kim Damstra, copied by John Sutherland) to help bring Lizzy and Darcy together.

And how does this fit with my sense of the ending of P&P? It has long been my belief that, even after the marriage of Darcy and Elizabeth, Charlotte continues her covert operations, such that, as Mr. Bennet advises Mr. Collins, ....

"....But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give....."

....her own husband Mr. Collins winds up with Darcy fulfilling Mr. Bennet's interesting prophecy by giving Collins a valuable living in close vicinity to Pemberley, perhaps even (and ironically) the Kympton living that Wickham pretends to regret.

And then, as I imagine Charlotte and Lizzy at a quiet tete a tete sipping tea at Pemberley, while Darcy is off becoming Prime Minister or the like (with Bingley as his ever faithful associate), and while Mr. Collins tends to his garden and writes letters to Lady Catherine about the wonders of his new life, Charlotte might just have mentioned to Lizzy the role that Charlotte quietly played in assisting the Gardiners in bringing Lizzy and Darcy together. And why might Charlotte do this? Not out of vanity, but in the hopes that this would _encourage_ Lizzy toward strong feelings of _gratitude_ toward Charlotte---with whatever additional consequences that gratitude might engender! ;)

Cheers, ARNIE
sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com

P.S.: Apropos my post four months ago about the relationship between Martha Lloyd and Jane....

http://sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2011/08/emma-donoghues-passions-between-women.html

....it may or may not be of interest that Jane Austen, like Lizzy, was 21, in 1796 when Jane famously flirted with her "Mr. Darcy", Tom Lefroy, and Martha Lloyd was 31. Just sayin'..........


P.P.S.: And now, from the "I could not possibly make this up if I tried" department, the following passage from a letter from Lady Davy (the wife of the great English chemist Humphry Davy) writing to Sarah Ponsonby, the younger Lady of LLangollen:

"P&P I do not very much like. Want of interest is the fault I can least excuse in works of mere amusement, and however natural the picture of vulgar minds and manners is there given, it is unrelieved by the agreeable contrast of more dignified and refined characters occasionally captivating attention. Some power of new character is, however, ably displayed, and Mr. Bennet's indifference is in truth not exaggeration."

What I would really like to know is whether Sarah Ponsonby agreed with her snobbish and not very insightful correspondent, or if Sarah and Eleanor knew that they were themselves, in a very real sense, "heroines" of P&P!


P.P.S.: I also checked in the archives of Janeites, and look what I found written a decade ago by our late friend, Eugene McDonnell: "Richardson's Sir Charles Grandison has a butch lesbian in it. See the early chapter where Harriet is cross-examined at the dinner." With which Jill Spriggs disagreed, replying "Sir Charles' sister....was accused of being rather masculine in manner, but since she was tamed and turned into a proper woman by the end of _Sir Charles_, I think she would not qualify." And here's the best part---guess what the name of Sir Charles's (per Eugene, lesbian] sister was? Yeah, you knew it---_another_ Charlotte!


P.P.P.S. And perhaps Ellen Moody will find in my above post some strong validation for most of what she wrote earlier this year in her blog: "I've become aware of these pattern through close-reading Austen's letters. As I wrote last time (Letter 32), I don't think we can say Jane Austen was a lesbian (even if she loved Martha -- we just can't get back there beyond the lack of documentation), but the patterns of not marrying, of rejecting any ideas of marital bliss at all in the letters, the mockery and harping on the horrors of childbirth and punishments women receive belong to the pattern of spinster women and lesbian writing one can discern in the 18th century. The way one discerns the rejection of heterosexual romance whether because the women just does not want marriage (endless babies, being subject to a man) or prefers woman, the depiction remains the woman reluctant to marry, forced into marrying, the marginalized spinster. From this angle, it's Charlotte Lucas who emerges as one of the most intriguing women characters in Austen. In Davies's 1995 movie Charlotte and Elizabeth are continually interrupted by men in the immediate way when they try to confide, first by Mr Collins and then by Mr Darcy. And then permanently when Charlotte marries as marry she must. Charlotte must give up the most meaningful relationship of her life to marry. She comes closest to embodying what Terry Castle calls "the apparitional lesbian," the woman who in a modern book might have come out, been a lesbian, but has to be marginalized, whose agon we watch in the wrong terms she is given (false options she wishes she could do without include Mr Collins -- if only she could get her house, room, chickens without him). I've found such a figure in Trollope's Barchester Towers: Charlotte Stanhope described in ways that hints she's a lesbian, but alas it's vanished or erased altogether in Plater's film adaptation...."

Ellen, if only you had realized that Charlotte does not allow herself to be marooned in Hell at Hunsford, but that she is actually a high roller in the game of life, who gambles big and in the end wins big!

P.P.P.P.S:

And I just found the funniest bit of textual evidence of all, hiding in blatant plain sight in P&P, in the very first chapter 6:

"The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield."

The ladies of Longbourn? Or the ladies of Llangollen? Longbourn ====> Llangollen!

(Dis)grace in Pride & Prejudice and Much Ado About Nothing

Earlier today, in Janeites, in response to my posting about Charlotte Lucas's worldly wise pronouncement about love....

http://sharpelvessociety.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-without-encouragement.html

...Cathy Lamb wrote a brilliant response crystallizing the essence of the allusion to Much Ado About Nothing in Pride & Prejudice as follows:

"...I also agree that both Darcy and Elizabeth share some characteristics with B and B – the pride and the knack for witty repartee. But I believe that the love affair of Darcy and Elizabeth is written to show a contrast with the sequence of events in Much Ado. With the Darcy/Elizabeth love, Austen is showing that true love does not need encouragement and overcomes obstacles...."

I then responded to Cathy by bringing forward the striking allusion in Darcy’s famous list of female accomplishments, and showed how that list was inspired by the following witty summary by Benedick:

“One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise; yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace…”

It occurred to me, after hitting the “Send” button on THAT message, to reread the above quotation, sleuthing around for some thematic wordplay by JA, because I deemed it highly probable, based on everything I know about her, that she, having already tagged such speech so tellingly, would not have failed to augment that allusion by somehow pointing to the keyword “grace” as well, which Benedick mentions twice.
It turned out my hunch was correct, but in a way that surprised me at first, but now makes perfect sense. What turns out to have been most important to JA in her depiction of the stormy courtship between Lizzy and Darcy was not the positive word “grace” [which JA _never_ uses vis a vis Lizzy and Darcy’s relationship], but the negative word “disgrace”, as I shall now briefly outline.

First we have the disgrace that Darcy is believed to feel would come from connection to a family in trade, first in the mind of the fawning snob Sir William Lucas, and then in the shame-filled fretting of Lizzy at Pemberley:

[Sir William Lucas to Darcy] Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner [Lizzy] does not DISGRACE you…

…Her [Lizzy’s] coming there [to Pemberley] 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 introduction [of the Gardiners to Darcy], however, was immediately made; and as she named their relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore it, and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he could from such DISGRACEFUL companions…. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a DISGRACE—when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible….Her power was sinking; everything must sink under such a proof of family weakness, such an assurance of the deepest DISGRACE.

And then the plot almost immediately segues to the disgrace of the Bennet family arising out of Lydia’s elopement:

[Mr. Collins writing to Mr. Bennet] And this consideration leads me moreover to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain event of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been involved in all your sorrow and DISGRACE.

But then, as the Bennet family prospects mysteriously brighten, we read Mrs. Gardiner’s witty hint to Lizzy that, in a sly double negative, which becomes a positive, comes close to Benedick’s evocation of the graces of his perfect woman:

[Mrs. Gardiner writing to Lizzy re Darcy] He called it, therefore, his duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on by himself. If he had another motive, I am sure it would never DISGRACE him.

But then the last gasp of the “bad guys”, Lady C and (again) Mr. Collins, about the disgraceful Bennet family:

[Lady Catherine to Lizzy] Your alliance will be a DISGRACE; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us…. Do you not consider that a connection with you must DISGRACE him in the eyes of everybody?""

[Mr. Collins writing to Mr. Bennet] "'After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that on the score of some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so DISGRACEFUL a match.”

And when I then checked back in Much Ado, I saw that _disgrace_ is actually yoked to _grace_ in that darkly comic play, all rotating around the disgrace brought so horribly upon Hero by Don John’s slander on Hero’s virtue:

Don Pedro to Claudio re Hero: And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to DISGRACE her.

Claudio: O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been, If half thy outward GRACES had been placed About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!

Leonato:
Friar, it cannot be.
Thou seest that all the GRACE that she hath left
Is that she will not add to her damnation
A sin of perjury…

First Watchman:
And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to DISGRACE Hero before the whole assembly. and not marry her.

Borachio (to Claudio):
…Don John your brother incensed me to slander the Lady Hero, how you were brought into the orchard and saw me court Margaret in Hero's garments, how you DISGRACEd her, when you should marry her…

And when I rotated back to the text of P&P, I saw that the above pattern of usage of DISGRACE in Much Ado is also used by JA in her usage of the word “DISGRACE” vis a vis Darcy’s conflictual relationship not with Lizzy, but with _Wickham_:

[Wickham to Lizzy] His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and DISGRACING the memory of his father."

[Lizzy to Wickham] "This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly DISGRACED."
[Wickham to Lizzy] Not to appear to DISGRACE his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive.

[Jane to Lizzy] "Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a DISGRACEFUL light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's favourite in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible.

And in one final rotation of the literary screw, I find the root of that pattern in Much Ado, when Conrade and the resentful Don John [on the surface at least, the Wickham of Much Ado] discuss Don John’s relationship with his legitimate brother, Don Pedro:

“You have of late stood out against your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his GRACE; where it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself…”

“I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his GRACE…”

I will finish by noting (only in passing) the very disturbing resonance between the slander of Hero by Don John which nearly tragically causes Claudio to abandon Hero, and the subterfuge engaged in not only by Miss Bingley, but also by Darcy, which nearly tragically causes _Bingley_ to abandon _Jane_.

Cheers, ARNIE

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Jane’s Lawyers & Equitable Claims

In Austen L and Janeites, the ever-fertile mind of Diane Reynolds brought the following very interesting question: "...I do find it odd that only one of the sisters is singled out as having brought money to the marriage, though I understand the point is that it should not have bought her so advantageous a match."

I responded as follows:

There's a big but subtle clue in the opening paragraph that doesn't get noticed:

"All Huntingdon exclaimed on the greatness of the match, and her uncle, the lawyer, himself, allowed her to be at least three thousand pounds short of any equitable claim to it."

Ever notice that there's at least one lawyer in the mix in _every_ one of the six novels? If you don't believe me, search the word "lawyer" in each of the novels....

Lawyers have speaking parts, however, in only two of the novels---_Emma_ (of course, John Knightley, one of the second tier of major characters) and Persuasion (the very discreetly sheep-herding Mr. Shepherd).

But we all know that the best lawyers work behind the scenes, and so I would suggest to you that Uncle Ward, the lawyer, is as much involved, behind the scenes, in the "brokerage" of the marriage of Maria Ward to Sir Thomas Bertram, as Mr. Shepherd was involved, behind the scenes, in bringing the Crofts to lease Kellynch Hall. I smell the hand of a lawyer in both. It tells me that Jane Austen had some real experience of lawyers in the world, she seems to deeply understand how things were arranged and
then orchestrated for public consumption.

To which I later added the following additional comments:
I had some vague recollection of having once dealt with that sentence about Uncle Ward the Lawyer, and sure enough, back in the summer of 2006, I had written the following:

"I wonder, for example, about the Ward family history. Were these girls fatherless? Even orphans? Was it was Miss Ward (shades of Lucy Steele), who, in her can-do way (which perhaps she derived from her uncle the lawyer?), initially managed to gain entree to the Bertram family? Was it Miss Ward who somehow made up for the $3,000 pound deficit in "the equitable claim" of Maria Ward to the match with Sir Thomas? Was it Miss Ward who carefully laid all the groundwork, only to see her prize snatched out from under her at the last minute by her prettier younger sister? Had she done any of these things, she would then have been especially bitter, because she felt that Maria STOLE Sir Thomas out from under her! That same theme of sisterly romantic rivalry of course will arise shortly in the story with Maria and Julia, a thread in which Mrs. Norris will take particular interest.

And, in previous discussions, I believe that the suggestion has been made that in many ways Mrs. Norris was the REAL mistress of Mansfield Park. But I wonder if it was always that way? As we first encounter Lady Bertram, in middle age, she is already a lump who does nothing. But one wonders if she was always that way, or if, over the course of two decades, Mrs. Norris has done all she could to create conditions under which her sister's natural indolence would be subtly directed toward total sloth? All designed to attain for herself the role that was "stolen" from her long ago."

I've been thinking some more about Jane Austen's subtly legalistic hinting, and have focused on Maria Ward's 7,000 pounds being not quite enough to constitute an "equitable claim" on a match with the baronet Sir Thomas Bertram.

I decided to search the word "equitable" and its variants in MP, and look at what I found only a few chapters later, in Chapter 5:

"[Mary Crawford's] brother [Henry] was not handsome: no, when they first saw him he was absolutely plain, black and plain; but still he was the gentleman, with a pleasing address. The second meeting proved him not so very plain: he was plain, to be sure, but then he had so much countenance, and his teeth were so good, and he was so well made, that one soon forgot he was plain; and after a third interview, after dining in company with him at the Parsonage, he was no longer allowed to be called so by anybody. He was, in fact, the most agreeable young man the sisters had ever known, and they were equally delighted with him. Miss Bertram’s engagement made him in _equity_ the _property_ of Julia, of which Julia was fully aware; and before he had been at Mansfield a week, she was quite ready to be fallen in love with."

Mansfield Park really is the Austen novel with the most jarring juxtapositions of the language of love and the language of property--that last sentence contains an explosive mixture of both, with a health dollop of legalism to make it even more cynical.

So we see that in both generations, the legal vocabulary of equity is explicitly used to describe the underpinnings of a marital match. For those among you who are not lawyers, we lawyers learn in the first week of law school that there are two great branches of law--the law, which goes by what is written, and equity, which is ancient counterbalance to the harsh injustice that can sometimes arise from strict enforcement of the letter of the law. So for JA to use the words "equitable right" re the match of the father and mother, and then the word "equity" re the flirtations of their two daughters contesting for the same "asset", i.e., Henry Crawford, I am assuming JA knew what was equity vs what was law, and so she is hinting that there is some sort of redress for injury that has been crafted in order to mitigate that injury.

Which only adds to the mystery of what equitable considerations were on the table that led to the match of Sir Thomas Bertram with Maria Ward!

Cheers, ARNIE

P.S. There is one other usage of the word "equity" in all of JA's novels, and it is also in an introductory chapter, Chapter 2 of Persuasion,when we read:

"They [the Elliots] must retrench; that did not admit of a doubt. But [Lady Russell] was very anxious to have it done with the least possible pain to him and Elizabeth. She drew up plans of economy, she made exact calculations, and she did what nobody else thought of doing: she consulted Anne, who never seemed considered by the others as having any interest in the question. She consulted, and in a degree was influenced by her, in marking out the scheme of retrenchment which was at last submitted to Sir Walter. Every emendation of Anne's had been on the side of honesty against importance. She wanted more vigorous measures, a more complete reformation, a quicker release from debt, a much higher tone of indifference for every thing but justice and _equity_."

What a wonderfully weird turn of phrase at the end there---Lady Russell's impassioned campaign for the Elliots to retrench in the most dramatic way possible is described, which is then elevated to a rhetorical climax, like the closing argument in a court case, which is oddly deflated by a strange double oxymoronic clash of "higher tone of indifference" and "for everything but". Had JA wished merely to be straightforward, she'd have written that Lady Russell wanted a sharp focus on justice and equity. But she's obviously been hanging around Mr. Shepherd a little too much, and can't seem to stop speaking in doubletalk!

News re Excavating the Steventon Rectory

The other day, a good Janeite friend just brought the following to my attention not off the Internet wire:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-hampshire-16002088

At first I was really excited, without thinking too much, wondering what Austen family artifacts lie buried at Steventon?

But then I was brought back to reality when I read the following:

"The house was demolished early in the 19th Century soon after Austen and her family moved to Bath."

Early in the 19th century? I recollected that it was not demolished by Edward Austen Knight till sometime _after_ James Austen died in 1819! Le Faye's 3rd edition quickly verified that it occurred in 1824. Not so early in the 19th century, especially from the point of view of Janeites.

But what was sobering was recollecting that because the rectory was occupied by James Austen and his family for nearly two decades after the entire Austen family lived there, it means that it's unlikely that we will find evidence of life among the original Austen family, but only stuff from James's family--still interesting, but not from a time when JA lived there!

Then earlier today, I came across a 4 minute news video clip by the BBC, that is worth watching:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-hampshire-16227579

It is _not_ just a repeat of the above linked BBC written article that made the rounds yesterday, it shows some of the actual excavation work that went on last month, and also a brief interview with the leader of the excavation project:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-hampshire-16002088

And....for those curious about the inconsistency between two depictions of the rectory which is briefly mentioned in the video, my friend Linda Robinson Walker, in her 2007 article about Jane Austen's being sent away at 7 and almost dying, also goes into painstaking detail in analyzing the inconsistency of those two depictions, which, as Linda suggests, bears on the decision of Revd. and Mrs. Austen to send JA and CEA away:

www.jasna.org/persuasions/on-line/vol26no1/walker.htm

Cheers, ARNIE

Love Without Encouragement

In Chapter 6 of Pride & Prejudice, Charlotte Lucas makes one of her three pronouncements about love and marriage:

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Charlotte, "to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all /begin/ freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show /more/ affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on."

I think it is fair to say that what most Janeites take away from this little speech is the notion that a woman wishing to find a husband must walk a fine line between showing too much affection vs. showing too little. And that focus by Janeite readers is perfectly understandable, given that the romantic suspense of the entire novel turns on that very question, in regard not only to Jane vis a vis Bingley, but also to Lizzy vis a vis Darcy.

However, what struck me as I just read this passage was the sentence buried in the middle of it, which actually is much more global in its implications, and, I think, much more profound, than the discussion of (to put it bluntly) courtship _tactics_ which surrounds and overshadows it:

"There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all /begin/ freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement."

This sentence sounds to me like a much smoother and terser version of one of Mary Bennet's formulations about human nature, and it made me realize I needed to broaden my previous claims that Mary Bennet is a self-portrait of Jane Austen, so as to suggest instead that while Mary is a self-portrait of the precocious but somewhat stilted intellectualism of the young Jane Austen, whereas Charlotte Lucas is a self-portrait of the verbally facile and mature intellectualism of the older Jane Austen.

But, aside from those observations, the more important and interesting question here is, what do you all think about Charlotte's psychological axiom, in regard to the following subquestions:

1. Do you agree with Charlotte, and she proved to be correct by the way the action unfolds in P&P?

2. Do you agree with Charlotte, and is she proved correct by the way courtship unfolds in our modern world, two centuries later?

3. Do you think Jane Austen was speaking ventriloquistically through her creature, Charlotte, and expressing JA's _own_ psychological judgment of how love grows, or do you think JA herself believed otherwise?

I don't recall any of these topics ever being discussed in these groups, and I thought it would be a great topic, of wide interest, to draw out some wider participation in these groups.

And I finish with telling you what I found when I Googled "love without encouragement" for the time period from 1700-1812----the only result that came back appeared in seven editions, and appeared in an exchange between Amanda, a wife engaging in a flirtation with another man, and her cautioning friend Berinthia:/

/Berinthia/: /Why, you can't tell but there may be some one as tenderly attached to Townly, whom you boast of as your conquest, as you can be to your husband./
/
Amanda: I'm sure I never encouraged his pretensions.

Berinthia. Pshaw ! Pshaw! No sensible man ever perseveres to love, without encouragement. Why have you not treated him as you have Lord Foppington?

The above exchange takes place in a 1781 play (with a prologue by David Garrick) written by Richard Brinsley Sheridan---he who also wrote the much more famous three plays, The Rivals, The Critic, and The School for Scandal, all of which were extremely well known to JA).

This phrase "love without encouragement" is used by Sheridan in passing as part of a romantic farce, whereas JA takes it, I claim, to a much more elevated plane of discourse about the mystery of love.

Cheers, ARNIE

P.S.: Of course the more famous of Charlotte's pronouncements about love and marriage, which have both received a great deal of discussion (among Janeites both amateur and academic) are made by her later in Chapter 6......

"...Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

and then in Chapter 22:

"I am not romantic, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins's character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state."

Lord Brabourne was Touchy about Serial Pregnancy Jokes for a Reason

In Janeites and Austen L today, Christy Somer wrote: "I have a question....In the facsimile of this first letter of October 1808 [i.e. Jane Austen's Letter 56], as I mentioned yesterday, this line is crossed out: "...but poor Woman! how can she be honestly breeding again?-" ..and this line was left out of the Brabourne edition of the letters. If one continues to read down a bit, this part remains in the Brabourne edition: "About an hour and a-half after your toils on Wednesday ended, ours began. At seven o'clock Mrs. Harrison, her two daughters and two visitors, with Mr. Debary and his eldest sister, walked in." Yet, leaves out the rest -here is the complete portion from RWC & DLF volumes, as well as from the facsimile: "About an hour & half after your toils on Wednesday ended, ours began;-at seven o'clock, Mrs. Harrison, her two daughters & two Visitors, with Mr. Debary & his eldest sister walked in; & our Labour was not a great deal shorter than poor Elizabeth's, for it was past eleven before we were delivered." Yet, in the facsimile, the removal was not done with any lines. It remains clearly, and was just left out of the Brabourne edition.
Why is one portion of a letter crossed out and not the other -and when both have been excluded? It certainly makes one wonder if someone else did the crossing out -and not Lord Brabourne, after all."

Christy, you've gone halfway toward answering your own question, by framing it so clearly--I will take it the rest of the way:

The attempted cancellation in the first passage you quoted was clearly performed by someone _prior_ to Lord Brabourne, and Lord Brabourne appears to have merely "ratified" that attempt in his 1884 edition, rather than restoring the manually cancelled portion. My vote is that Fanny Knatchbull was the culprit who attempted that (thankfully ultimately unsuccessful) cancellation, and the reason I suggest this derives straight from the relevant family history.

First, Fanny's husband's father, Sir Edward Knatchbull (8th Baronet), had, prior to his death in 1819, sired an appalling total of _seventeen_ children on _three_ wives (the first two of whom, I would bet, died in childbirth), including Fanny's husband who was, of course his eldest son.

And then second, Fanny's husband, Sir Edward Knatchbull (9th Baronet), truly his father's son in this same appalling way, quickly sired _six_ children on his first wife in 8 years (who it is certain also died in childbirth!), and then, after a 5 year hiatus, revved up the engines again to make up for lost time, and proceeded to sire _nine_ more children on his new bride Fanny (who was, by the way, already 26 when she married him, so her age is probably the reason, rather than some sudden outburst of conjugal restraint on the 9th Baronet's part, that she did not make it to double digits, breedingwise, and possibly thereby avoided dying while running this decade-long gauntlet).

And the eldest of those 9 children of Fanny Knight Knatchbull, Edward, was the very same Lord Brabourne who published the 1884 edition of JA's Letters! So it cannot come as a surprise to anyone that he in particular would not wish to publish an edition of his great Aunt's letters in which she so brazenly mocks the practice that led to his own existence, a practice that his grandfather and father both embraces with open arms (so to speak). He did not want the world to know that his childless great aunt had considered his progenitors as the equivalent of bulls and cows in a pasture.

As for the second quoted passage, Christy, it seems to me that Fanny, having deleted what she considered to be the offensive first passage, would have left in a passage where JA, even though she engaged in some witty wordplay on "Labour", went on to express sympathy for "poor Elizabeth", who of course was Fanny's own mother--and did so in a letter written right before her mother's terrible death! So I can well understand why Fanny left that passage in.

But her son, who never knew his maternal grandmother, was another story. He was clearly a born Bowdlerizer, who decided that wit on the topic of difficult childbirth was unacceptable.

Cheers, ARNIE

P.S.: I wondered why it was that the 9th Baronet gave his Christian name to a son born of his _second_ marriage, after siring six children in his first marriage. I quickly checked and saw that of his five children who lived to adulthood, four were _daughters_, but that still does not explain why his firstborn son, born in 1808, was given the name Norton instead of Edward. I wondered if Norton's legitimacy was in issue, but apparently not, as he eventually became the 10th Baronet. So it was probably like in the Austen family, sometimes the firstborn son did not receive his father's name.