Constructive Criticism
Guest post by Edward Sisson
With all the praise or criticism of the portrayals in TV and movies of Jane’s characters (and I’ve done my share of that), I wonder if readers might venture a little criticism of Jane herself (gasp) when it comes to her wonderful characters. Are there any moments in the books where you think Jane herself put a foot wrong, or struck a false note? I’m not talking about a character like Emma, who is supposed to have many faults, but a featured, good character who exhibits a trait Jane ought not to have included, or a moment that feels too contrived.
I can offer only one: Anne Elliot in Persuasion, in her visit with Mrs. Smith where Mrs. Smith discloses Mr. Elliot’s true character. They get to the subject of Mr. Elliot’s first (and at that point only) wife, and Anne comments “But was she not a very low woman?” and Mrs. Smith responds “Her father was a grazier, her grandfather had been a butcher.” And Anne does not make any comment to the effect that the woman’s father and grandfather ought not be the determinants of the woman’s own quality. This kind of snobbery, while very common in the day, does not strike me as true to Anne’s character. This exchange is included in the 1971 BBC production, but not in the 1995 movie.
A somewhat similar idea is to identify moments of behavior by some of the less-favorable characters that show a surprising good quality. What I am thinking of is the moment in Pride & Prejudice at the Netherfield Ball when Caroline Bingley cautions Elizabeth against Wickham, and Eliza brushes her off as the comment being merely snobbery about low birth, and Caroline recoiling and saying “it was kindly meant.” In the book I think this probably was not “kindly meant,” because Caroline approaches with “civil disdain,” and after her rebuff turns away with a “sneer.” But as played in the 1985 (8 not 9) BBC version (my favorite), Caroline is genuinely hurt at the rebuff, and it appears that her caution really was “kindly meant.” I’ve always liked that bit of complexity, of sprinkling in a little bit of good into a “bad” character.
Comments welcome!
April 9th, 2008 at 9:57 am
That version is actually from 1980 and it’s my favorite too.
Anne Elliot is my favorite character in the Austen canon, but even I will admit that she’s not perfect. She’s not a snob the way the rest of her family is, but she is still a woman of her time and her class. Given that, she has had very little (if any) exposure to people from outside her class, and I can understand if she doesn’t automatically jump to the other woman’s defense.
April 9th, 2008 at 11:32 am
>Are there any moments in the books where you think Jane herself put a foot wrong,
Anne held a similar opinion of Mrs Clay, so I don’t think JA struck a false note there.
I have often used this point in an attempt to protect Emma from Emma-bashing.
That she used this to further her plan is what I see as her fault.
I wouldn’t judge JA/Anne considering how different psyches are of the people at different stages in the development of society.
Considering that JA showed herself holding progressive views as discussed in an earlier post, about Coles and Robert Martin, I think this is very much in her favour.
It would seem she also didn’t approve of slavery.
She was not a radical, but accepting changes steadily, and wanted these changes to have their own identity instead of aping the existing one. Marrying a man like Mr Eliot, his wife probably showed *this* side which JA/Anne didn’t approve of.
There is a lot happening today that fits in the modern psyche and is not thought badly of, but 200 or more years from now will be looked at with a critical eye by the society of that time.
IMO.
>identify moments of behavior by some of the less-favorable characters that show a surprising good quality.
-Mr. Collins’ desire to do the right thing by wanting to marry one of the Bennet girls
-Mary Crawford’s coming to console Fanny when everyone was so cross with her.
-Mr Eliot’s choice of Anne instead of Elizabeth showed good taste
Just to mention a few.
But I *am* critical about some of JA’s writing;
Mrs Bennet’s fears were real and it was just made fun of, without a moment of sympathy.
April 9th, 2008 at 11:33 am
The directors & writers of movies don’t seem to hesitate in describing the flaws of Jane’s characterization. Joe Wright thought that the relationship between Elizabeth and Jane Bennett was too close and sympathetic, so he changed it to have them growing apart in P&P05. Andrew Davies finds that the men aren’t as fully characterized as he’d like, and so focuses on their development in his scripts. He also said that there isn’t enough development of the Brandon-Marianne relationship, and so added that to his S&S08 script. I don’t always agree with the assessments (particularly not with Wright), but these men seem to have no problem ‘correcting’ Jane’s writing.
April 9th, 2008 at 11:38 am
I just re-read Northanger Abbey for the umpteenth time, and it seems to me that General Tilney’s complete acceptance of John Thorpe’s word on the state of Catherine’s finances is not really believable. He might at least have name-dropped the Morlands (a la the Lady Frazers and the Marquis of Longtown) to another acquaintance and, when met with blank stares, found out the truth of the matter. I know, I know, he didn’t want to give away the game and possibly lose her (and her supposed fortune) to someone equally avaricious, and ’subtlety’ is not exactly his middle name, but still I see him as someone who would’ve vetted her at least a little bit. Of course, then we’d have a much shorter story!
Well, anyway, I’m not implying that the General is a ‘wonderful character,’ LOL!, but the phrase “[striking] a false note” just suddenly resonated with me.
April 9th, 2008 at 12:25 pm
While not strictly to the questions, I have always wondered at Miss Austen’s treatment of fathers in her novels. As a group they are not treated with much respect by the author. Mr. Bennett, while caring for Elizabeth, does not respect his wife nor has he planned for his daughters’ futures. Mr. Woodhouse is so enveloped in his own world, that while Emma is financially taken care of, she is more a parent to him. Mr. Dashwood did not take care of his daughters in a way that would make their future life easier or marriage likely. I have no real feeling for Mr. Morland, there is no way to have much for him excepting that he planned to help James eventually marry. And Walter Elliot – ugh – who can imagine a more insipid creature. Mr. Price is not worth mentioning. Why is this? I’ve never been able to account for it except as something to drive the plot (to contrast with future husbands of our heroines).
April 9th, 2008 at 12:41 pm
In response to Jenn’s comments about fathers: I think you are overlooking Austen’s treatment of mothers. Mrs. Bennet, Dashwood and Price, while at least not killed off, are hardly models of respectability. I would say Mrs. Dashwood is the least offensive as a mother; but she is often expresses understanding or sympathy of Marianne’s sentimentality, which, as we know, is not sensible.
April 9th, 2008 at 12:52 pm
What a great set of responses! — I was going to start listing the ones I agree with most and I realized that I would just end up re-stating everyone’s. I hope people keep adding more.
April 9th, 2008 at 1:51 pm
Edward - thanks for a very thought-provoking post!
I found my opinion of Mr. Collins softened when he spoke this to Elizabeth as she was ending her visit to Hunsford:
“Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in every thing a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other.”
He seems changed from a very squirrely character to a loving husband, still smarting perhaps from the memory of Elizabeth’s refusal of his proposal, but acknowledging that it was the best thing that could have happened to him. And he sounds sincere in wishing that Elizabeth someday finds a partner who will complete her as well as Charlotte does him. I especially thought this was touchingly portrayed by David Bamber in P&P95. Yes, he was still a quirky, irritating guy, but this scene showed another side of him. We saw that Mr. Collins was not entirely self-absorbed and oblivious to the opinions of others. Made me want to give him a hug!
April 9th, 2008 at 2:10 pm
Hmmm, I always interpreted those lines of Mr. Collins as getting in an extra dig at Elizabeth, gloating over how VERY happy he is, how much more agreeable things turned out because he didn’t marry her, and what a great catch he is– implying that it’s too bad for her that she didn’t realize it!
As for good characters striking a bit of a false note, I think Elizabeth was a bit harsh on poor Miss Anne de Bourgh– “I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife.” Anne seems to be a young woman with neither health, beauty, nor talent who seems to be guilty of nothing more than being her mother’s hapless pawn. The poor thing never stood a chance growing up under Lady Catherine!
April 9th, 2008 at 4:03 pm
Excellent post. Sorry, I’m still too new to the Austen world to hold my own in this discussion. I’ll sit back and continue to learn.
April 9th, 2008 at 4:05 pm
Bobbie - I think the General believed John Thorpe because I am quite sure he must have made it a point to mention his ‘close’ connection with them. With the announcement of James and Isabella’s engagement his word must have carried more weight than ever.
April 9th, 2008 at 4:40 pm
One of my few quibbles is with Jane Bennet. I wonder whether a person ever existed who is that uniformly sweet-tempered and generous - not only in her behavior but apparently even in her thoughts? Much as I like the character, I have to admit I’ve never met anyone quite so perfect.
A minor moment that seems slightly contrived or off the mark (the only one I can recollect at the moment) is: **Emma began to consider whether she had not better leave them together at once. But as she wanted to be drawing, the declaration must wait a little longer.** Given how much she wants to get Harriet & Mr. Elton together, it seems to me that Emma would be willing to delay her drawing for a bit if she thought Mr. Elton was ready to make his declaration.
But happily, on the whole, JA certainly validated her own claim that an artist can do nothing slovenly.
April 9th, 2008 at 5:57 pm
I have to agree with Maria L with regards to those lines spoken by Mr Collins at Huntersford. I always thought it was a smirky comment, because he felt that Elizabeth must be regretting the decision she made having seen his ‘close connection with the family of DeBourgh’…
As for Emma and the declaration, it does seem a bit odd but then again I suppose Emma was, in the beginning of the book, incredibly used to getting her own way, and I have to say, she seemed to me to be quite selfish, so maybe although she wanted Harriet and Mr.E married, she put her own want of entertainment above it? If that made ANY sense….
I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of a quibble with any of the books…and the only thing I can come up with is the ending to Mansfield Park…it all seemed a little rushed to me, I mean one minute Edmund’s madly in love/deeply hurt and disappointed in Mary Crawford and then in the last chapter he realises he might as well marry Fanny…I don’t know it just never rang true for me, and I have to say I felt a little for Fanny. I guess I might be in the minority but I for one love Fanny Price…and I felt her goodness deserved better than to be Edmund’s second choice/consolation prize, the man she would do ANYTHING for. I guess I felt she deserved a declaration a la Anne Elliot’s letter, and I couldn’t help but scream at Edmund when I got to the end, as lovely as Edmund was.
April 9th, 2008 at 5:59 pm
I always find it very difficult to believe that Colonel Brandon would not tell Elinor about Willoughby when he thought that Marianne was about to get engaged to him. It just doesn’t seems like the a thing he would withhold from her. Imagining what lift would have been like for Marianne had she married Willoughby it just doesn’t seems right that Colonel Brandon isn’t doing all he can from stopping it. Even if it would seem like he was trying to help himself.
April 9th, 2008 at 6:09 pm
I always thought that when Anne referred to Mr. Elliot’s late wife as “low” she was not placing judgment, but stating fact. Mrs. Elliot was of low birth, there’s no “nice” way to state that. The importance of class for Austen’s characters cannot be underestimated. I do not think Anne was being snobbish in asking about it; it’s an important consideration! It would be stranger if she did not think about those sort of things.
April 9th, 2008 at 6:43 pm
In regard to Joan Ellen’s comment in #12: I used to agree with you about Jane Bennet until I met my good friend eight years ago. She is Jane Bennet, and it is not always very comfortable. I have been rebuked by her several times for attributing bad motives to people, and she is incredibly forbearing with people no matter how much they take advantage of her. Scary, but Jane Austen rings true again!
For me, the plotline that didn’t ring true when I first read Pride & Prejudice was that Darcy would ever be suitable for Elizabeth. I just didn’t buy that he could undo his upbringing in a lasting way. A few more readings, and seeing Colin Firth’s interpretation of the role, have brought me around. Still, if I were Elizabeth, I would be wary of staking my troth on it.
April 9th, 2008 at 6:56 pm
Jenn (#5)pointed out that the heroines of Austen lack proper father figures, but I must point out that Mr. Dashwood died before he could save money to put aside for the girls. He, unlike Mr. Bennett, knew he needed to do something for them.
April 9th, 2008 at 7:00 pm
It might not be a character, but I always think the ending to S&S: the sudden illness, the equally sudden repentance, the convenience of Lucy Steele marrying Robert Ferrars instead of his brother, that is all too contrived. Similarly, the ending to Persuasion is rather hurried. They don’t detract from my enjoyment of either, but I think they do strike “false notes”.
April 9th, 2008 at 9:01 pm
I generally lurk, but I’m taking a class that’s reading Emma (which is why I took the class, to be perfectly honest) and the professor pointed out a line from Emma that doesn’t seem to fit with her character. It’s at the Cole’s party, when Frank has come back to join the women after they separated after dinner. It’s chapter 26:
“. . . he had found them in general a set of gentlemanlike, sensible men; and spoke so handsomely of Highbury altogether–thought it so abundant in agreeable families– that Emma began to feel she had been used to despise the place rather too much.”
It sparked a debate about whether that was out of place, whether it was meant to satirize Frank’s over-the-top enjoyment of Highbury, or whether Emma really had previously expressed a dislike of Highbury. At first I thought it was to emphasize Frank over-praising Highbury, but I’m not sure its placement suggests this reading. I’m not really sure. Any thoughts?
April 9th, 2008 at 10:15 pm
This is a fascinating discussion. I’ve always had a problem with Mrs. Smith of Persuasion, because she was ready to hide the truth about Mr. Elliot to her dear friend Anne. Her stated reason was that she could “no more speak the truth of him, than if he had been [her] husband,” but the stronger motivator was clearly her own self-interest. If she trashed Mr. Elliot, Anne would never be in the position to influence Mr. Elliot to act on Mrs. Smith’s behalf. But Mrs. Smith makes her flimsy excuses, and Anne accepts them.
April 9th, 2008 at 10:30 pm
I agree with Laurie (post #19) I always had a problem with Mrs. Smith too. For being such a great friend to Anne, why did she not share the information about Mr. Elliot earlier? I think Laurie has nailed her motivations!
April 9th, 2008 at 11:47 pm
Another excellent set of comments. Lyndsay — I had not noticed the bit about Emma “despising” Highbury, and it does seem out of place (and also, “despise” in Austen’s day was not, I think, as harsh as we see the word today). I never had the feeling that Emma was anything but very satisfied with Highbury. Indeed, we never hear of her having visited anyplace else (although she must have visited London a few times) so how would she have any standard of comparison?
Ally, above, mentioned Mary Crawford of Mansfield Park, which reminded me of another twist on all this: are there any characters you think more highly of than Jane Austen herself thinks of them? In past months in comments to other posts here and elsewhere, I have sometimes heard favorable comments about Mary Crawford — a character of whom Austen, I think, was very critical. And I recall some comments to the effect that Lucy Steele of S&S is not so bad. For myself, I’m surprised to find that I begin to feel some sympathy for Caroline Bingley, although this is probably based more on aspects of the way she is portrayed in various films. In modern terms, these are the “mean girls” who are trying to get in the way of the heroine joining the hero. In light of how few options women had in those days and how essential it was for a woman to marry, should we feel more sympathetic to them than Jane did?
April 10th, 2008 at 3:03 am
Comment #19 and #22: Although Emma is quite happy in Highbury there are one or two lines which suggest that she also feels its deficiency. When she discusses Frank Churchill’s (delayed) visit with Mr Knightley, he argues that he has nothing but manners to recommend him and Emma says that alone will make him a treasure at Highbury. And there is another comment about “Highbury gossips” somewhere when she talks about Harriet’s friends. But that may only be another shade of her snobbery.
Emma is my favourite character and after all the good points already made I wanted to say, that it’s not necassarily the “faultlessness” that makes a character “true”. A good person can do silly or wrong things without being “out of character”. And a “bad” person can be nice and considerate without being suspected of a moral make-over.
That’s why I hold “Emma” and “Mansfield Park” in such high regard, because the “good” and “bad” are not so easily determined on as in the earlier novels. In fact it shifts within the book and sometimes even from every time of reading it.
April 10th, 2008 at 3:11 am
This may also be off the topic but…I’ve always wondered who was it that told Lady Catherine (and subsequently, Mr. Collins) that Darcy and Elizabeth were “secretly engaged” and prompted her infamous visit to Longbourn to confront Elizabeth and extract a promise from her never to enter into an engagement with Darcy?
I’ve long wondered who it was that spread the rumor and on what basis. The obvious suspect is Wickham to do so just to be mean-spirited or as a revenge on Darcy (though that backfired, didn’t it?) Fitzwilliam would have been privy to Darcy’s feelings on the matter but we know he is impeccibly discrete. Am I alone in wondering who it was?
April 10th, 2008 at 6:02 am
I think it says in the book that Lady Lucas wrote to Charlotte and her husband told Lady Catherine. At least that’s what Lizzy assumes after reading Mr Collin’s letter to her father.
April 10th, 2008 at 6:41 am
I think Julia in post#25 is spot on. Although it is only an assumption of Lizzy’s, it seems to make the most sense. I just don’t see Wickham writing a letter to Lady Catherine, or Lady Catherine taking anything he said seriously. I mean even though she doesn’t know about Georgiana, atleast I never got the idea she did, she would know that him and Darcy did not get on and so she wouldn’t really credit anything he had to say.
I didn’t see MUCH wrong with either of the Crawfords…I mean compared to Fanny, they’re obviously ethically flawed, but then again who isn’t compared to Fanny, she’s an absolute saint. I mean Henry was trying to redeem himself, and I think he genuinely grew to care for her…then again he did run off with Maria so…hmm.. interesting one that…
April 10th, 2008 at 7:47 am
Yup 24, 25 and 26, the fault seems to lie with the Lucases. Here’s the bit from the book, where Elizabeth speculates on how the rumors got to Lady Catherine:
Lady Catherine, it appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine; till she recollected that his being the intimate friend of Bingley, and her being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at Lucas Lodge, therefore (for through their communication with the Collinses the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine), had only set that down as almost certain and immediate, which she had looked forward to as possible, at some future time.
April 10th, 2008 at 8:17 am
Lindsay - #19
I think that in this comment JA is having her fun.
FC is seen making OTT comments in praise of Highbury and JA’s rejoinder about despising it is also OTT.
And I agree with Edward Sisson that Emma is shown to be quite satisfied with her life there.
Though throughout the duration of the book Emma doesn’t leave Highbury there is mention of her having been to London;
but all the holidays of this autumn had been given to sea-bathing for the children, and it was therefore many months since they had been seen in a regular way by their Surry connections, or seen at all by Mr. Woodhouse, who could not be induced to get so far as London,
I conclude that they were seen by Emma who must have gone to London at some point before that.
April 10th, 2008 at 9:27 am
I just wanted to add to the point about Mr Dashwood - as pointed out in this webpage http://austenprose.wordpress.com/2008/04/04/puzzling-legal-nonsense-in-austens-sense-and-sensibility/ - Mr Dashwood was legally unable to provide for his second wife and children with her, as when he himself had inherited the Dashwood estate, his uncle (the head of the family) had ensured in his will that the estate would only pass down to Mr Dashwood’s first born son, and then his son. Therefore his daughters can only receive their dowries of 1000 pounds (probably settled on them through the Settlements when he married the second Mrs Dashwood). Does this make sense? I don’t think that Mr Dashwood had much of an independent fortune apart from the estate. It really was a terrible thing of his son not to provide for his sisters and stepmother.
April 10th, 2008 at 9:41 am
@#13 I, too, am a big fan of Fanny’s. I must admit I never saw her as Edmund’s consolation prize when she married him. She was his second choice, yes, yet I think he realized she was also his best choice. I can’t remember how much time passes between his breaking up with Mary and marrying Fanny, but I think he grew to realize how wonderful Fanny was, how much she meant to him. I know I’m in the minority here, but I think Edmund had been in love with Fanny for a long time, and just unaware of it because of how they were like brother and sister (and Jane does not tell us if he had any attachments with any women before Mary entered the scene).
April 10th, 2008 at 11:26 am
What a wonderful discussion - great topic, Edward, and Tina, thanks for saying “stake my troth.”
A JA movie comment first - Emma Thompson’s screenplay for Sense and Sensibility gave Mr. Palmer (Charlotte’s husband) some human qualities that were absent from the novel. He is helpful and sympathetic when Marianne falls ill at Cleveland (in the movie, but not in the novel). The character of Palmer was portrayed by Hugh Laurie, Thompson’s longtime friend and former beau - I wondered if that was why she wrote it that way.
I have been re-reading and analyzing Mansfield Park lately. I remain fascinated by the strength and complexity of Mary Crawford, and a bit suspicious of JA’s conviction about her weaknesses, which triumph in the end. The weaknesses happen mainly offstage while the strengths are directly demonstrated in scenes with Fanny. And Henry Crawford nearly redeems himself before falling victim to his own ego. This is a novel I did not appreciate as a younger reader, but find impressive now.
Thanks everyone!
April 10th, 2008 at 11:54 am
Maybe I shouldn’t have said “stake.” Maybe that’s a little too “Very Secret Diary of Henry Tilney.”
April 10th, 2008 at 2:45 pm
Ellen said–Emma Thompson’s screenplay for Sense and Sensibility gave Mr. Palmer (Charlotte’s husband) some human qualities that were absent from the novel. He is helpful and sympathetic when Marianne falls ill at Cleveland (in the movie, but not in the novel).
This is fresh in my mind because I just posted it in the S&S discussion thread, but actually Mr. Palmer did warm up a bit in the novel. From Vol. III, Ch. VII:
Hugh Laurie might have taken it a little further, but the sympathy and kindness is certainly there. He mostly seems to expend his snark upon his wife and mother-in-law, at least when they are being silly. One thinks that perhaps if Charlotte learned to be a little LESS silly, she might have a more personable husband.
April 10th, 2008 at 2:59 pm
Re #20, Mrs. Smith so willing to hide the truth about Mr. Elliot from Anne.
Yes, there’s that…but the one that I find so hard to stomach is Darcy keeping Bingley in the dark from April to September about Jane really caring for Bingley.
Would he ever have done anything to sort out the mess he caused if Lizzy hadn’t mercifully appeared at Pemberley? For a man who loathes deception of all sorts, he’s tolerating his long silence awfully well.
April 10th, 2008 at 3:34 pm
I’ve always had a problem with the bit in Emma where the omniscient narrator suggests that one lesson Emma learned was that Jane Fairfax would have made a better friend to Emma due to birth, abilities and education than poor Harriet Smith, when it’s highly likely the prickly Jane would have resented and rebuffed the patronage of Emma. And then the blithe acknowledgment that of course, Emma can no longer be friends with Harriet, who has been proven illegitimate and has now married a farmer. Emma, seen from the twenty-first century, is a snob.
Likewise from the perspective of the twenty-first century, it’s hard to view Mary Crawford the way Austen saw her. Her tragic moral flaws don’t look that bad, especially when considered against the very fine qualities she possessed. Aside from her brother, she was one of the few characters in the book to understand Fanny’s great worth (although in a rather offhand fashion.)
The ending of Mansfield Park has always troubled me because of two crucial items that are played off-stage. We are told rather than shown that Edmund’s feelings change for Fanny in just the right amount of time it would take for his feelings to change. I have a hard time believing what I can’t see. I saw no real evidence of anything more than a brotherly affection between them. If there had been the least hint of regret or twinge of envy or jealousy when Fanny was being courted by Crawford, maybe. But Edmund is wholly delighted by the prospect. And so Fanny appears to be a consolation prize and who wants to be that? I can’t help thinking that Edmund would never get over regretting Mary. Their connection was very strong.
The other item that was played off stage was Henry’s flirtation and elopement with Maria. I don’t buy it. Henry was too smart to be taken in by Maria and risk losing all that he had been working toward. There is the suggestion that he acted solely to please his own ego. When he tells Mary of his feelings for Fanny, he speaks of Maria’s imagined reaction to the news without ego. By this point, he held Maria in active contempt. And his suit of Fanny is so long and utterly patient, it’s hard to buy it as the actions of a man who merely won’t be thwarted. Such men are not patient. Nor are they the kind of people to value the qualities Fanny possesses and that Crawford recognizes. He comes across as the only character in the book to completely understand the fineness of Fanny’s character.
I can’t help thinking poor Fanny got a raw deal, stuck with Edmund, who had a cylinder of wood stuck in an uncomfortable place, who would probably always feel that he was the one conveying honor on her, where Crawford saw it the other way around.
April 10th, 2008 at 3:41 pm
I always found Edmund’s shock at Mary’s ideas on how to salvage the mess of Maria and Henry rather depressing. He’d rather consign his sister to hell on earth than figure out a way for her not to rot in hell. He’d rather be right than be a brother.
April 10th, 2008 at 4:08 pm
I wonder how much Jane actually liked her character, Edmund. He comes off as such a self-righteous little prig at the end.
April 10th, 2008 at 4:11 pm
As regards Mary Crawford, on viewing the 1980s-era Le Touzel version again recently, and on checking the book to verify that this version is accurate (and it is), I was struck at how Mary’s decision to do the play, knowing before she agreed to that it would require her to play opposite a stranger (Charles Maddox, as Anhalt), is what propels Edmund to do the play. Edmund’s decision is solely so that Mary will avoid the discomfort of playing opposite a stranger — yet she put herself in that position freely. This was not a situation in which Edmund or someone else had committed to the part (Anhalt) so that when Mary chose, she was choosing a comfortable situation. It struck me that Mary is, at best, unkind and insensitive to Edmund; she ought never to have agreed to participate. Instead, despite knowing that it is against Edmund’s principles to do the play, she persists, and creates a situation that puts him on the spot. She is, in effect, forcing him to compromise what he thinks — what she knows he thinks — is an important moral point. Regardless of whether she agrees that it is an important moral point — clearly she doe not think it is — she is acting very badly here, I think. When Edmund goes to Fanny for advice, he is seeking her permission and moral approval, in relieving Mary of a difficulty, but Fanny will not approve. I think she is right.
April 10th, 2008 at 6:14 pm
I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who thinks Fanny got a raw deal…I totally agree with pretty much everything Melissa said in post#35…I’d never thought about it like that before, in regards to Henry Crawford and Maria…I suppose you’re right, Henry as portrayed in the rest of the book, would have been far too smart to risk his social standing, which was quite important to him, by eloping with Maria, despite her many…’attractions’. The entire ending of MP just felt rushed and insincere…it’s been a while since I re-read it, and this discussion is making me want to, but I remember being disappointed in the end. MP was the book I read last, and it was my favourite, until I got to the end and felt that I, as well as Fanny, had gotten a bad deal.
Edward in post#38 raises a good point…but I think in fairness Mary Crawford made a mistake that many people make. She put her own wants above someone elses, and perhaps she tried to alter Edmund and his principles. But it wouldn’t be the first time a woman has tried to change a man. I just somehow don’t think Mary was the villain, a role she and her brother are often, and in my opinion unfairly, condemned to. Their only flaw is not being perfect.
And I agree with Karen about Edmund’s decision…it was ‘right’ but was it compassionate? I think Edmund and Fanny represent extremes of what was considered at the time to be moral and right…and I think Austen believed Fanny truly was, but I’m not sure she felt the same about Edmund.
The more I think about it, at the beginning of the book, all the main characters seem to be in the middle between good and bad and through their decisions and mistakes they end up slightly on one side, either good or bad. Thats the thing I love about MP…the main characters seem to be less obviously either a hero or villain (with the exception of Fanny of course)…there isn’t a Wickham or Mr. Elliot for instance on the bad side, or a Jane Bennet on the good.
April 10th, 2008 at 6:24 pm
#38 Edward: I have to admit, I completely agree with you, Edward. I mean if they had no connection at all and she barely knew him I guess it would alright if she hadn’t known his views and principles on the first try; yet, people (here?) seem to think that Mary Crawford and Edmund had an almost immediate connection. I find that hard to believe considering the above statement about the play.
I haven’t read Emma yet, so I’m not going to comment on that, but to Mansfield Park: I’m not so sure that Fanny is a consolation prize. I mean, sure it seems like Edmund got over Mary Crawford rather quickly (though I don’t think it’s really mentioned exactly for how long) but that happens quite often now, right? Boy meets one girl, breaks up with said girl, realizes he loves THE girl instead and they live happily ever after? (For a while at least.) The only difference is that Edmund knew Fanny for about 8 years before meeting Mary, which meant that although they first met when Fanny was 10, so too young to be courted right away, I think, Edmund was acting like The Lord High Mayor of Wankerville for a long time. We know he’s a prick, but at least he makes amends in the end. Also, it’s not that typical Boy Meets Girl story I said before because Fanny isn’t very normal in the sense that she’s saint-like and always right. Though even with that I don’t understand why everyone hates Fanny, I have never met a single person more loyal than her and she’s also very steadfast and very easy to relate to, in my opinion.
April 10th, 2008 at 6:39 pm
What about Mr. Darcy succeeding in separating his good friend Charles Bingley and Jane Bennett one minute, and then the next he’s trying to get with Jane’s sister (even though he just got finished convincing Bingley not to pursue someone from such a family)? Hmmm, for a man who’s supposed to be Bingley’s best friend he seems kind of hypocritical to me!!!
April 10th, 2008 at 6:53 pm
Yes, but he struggled in vain against his strong attraction to Elizabeth. In that case his heart ruled over his head…against his will. But I still want to slap him upside the head for that!
April 10th, 2008 at 7:25 pm
First, let me say that “The Lord High Mayor of Wankerville” is my new favorite phrase. Now, on to the topic at hand.
I wouldn’t call this so much JA taking a false step as me reading against the grain, but I feel a lot more sympathy for Mrs. Bennett than I’m supposed to. While I quite like Mr. Bennett overall, I’m occasionally annoyed by what I perceive to be his unkindness to his wife. Yes, Mrs. Bennett was silly and overwrought and sometimes even vulgar, but her concerns about her daughters were valid, and her distress seemed genuine (most of the time). Yet Mr. Bennett never treated her concerns with consideration; he merely derided her for them. Worse, he mocked her in front of his daughters, implicitly encouraging them to join in and make fun of their mother, too.
In truth, I feel torn about the whole situation. Part of me appreciates that JA was playing it for laughs — and indeed, I am amused by it. But another part of me can’t help feeling badly for Mrs. Bennett. However wrongly she went about it, she was trying to look after her girls, and she is mercilessly made fun of for it by everyone, including her author.
April 10th, 2008 at 9:17 pm
Tina, I wasn’t ragging on your choice of words - I loved it - so Gothic, as you point out.
And Mags, thanks for the text from S&S. It is my least favorite of the novels, I confess, which is why I never picked up on Palmer’s redemption.
April 10th, 2008 at 10:07 pm
I have some sympathy for Mrs Bennet, but only because I feel sorry for stupid people in general. She was a very selfish person whose only plan for the future was to sacrifice Lizzy through marriage to an idiot.
And don’t even get me started on Mr Bennet.
April 10th, 2008 at 10:11 pm
Edward, I think you are far too kind about Edmund. Perhaps I am too harsh, but I believe Mary Crawford knew exactly what she was doing all along—testing the limits of Edmund’s growing infatuation and seeing how far she could make him go. And we see exactly how far he is willing to go.
As for Edmund, methinks that gentleman doth protest too much! All his pretty speeches about preserving Mary’s and the family’s honor notwithstanding, I think he ends up taking on Anhalt because he really wants to be Mary’s Anhalt. If he truly believed that he was on absolutely firm moral ground here, I don’t think he would have felt the need to ask for Fanny’s approval. Fanny cannot grant moral approval because in her own way she sees right through him:
To be acting! After all his objections—objections so just and so public! After all that she had heard him say, and seen him look, and known him to be feeling. Could it be possible? Edmund so inconsistent! Was he not deceiving himself? Was he not wrong? Alas! it was all Miss Crawford’s doing. She had seen her influence in every speech, and was miserable.
Mary Crawford was weaving her little web, and Edmund who is using an organ other than his brain to do his thinking, walks right into it.
April 11th, 2008 at 7:23 am
Edmund’s just weak…he has a good heart, and I do think he cares for Fanny, I was just never convinced he loved her like she deserves…whereas Fanny loves Edmund more than he deserves, him being the Lord High Mayor of Wankerville and all.
Mary’s morals were a bit all over the place to be sure but I don’t think her heart was in the wrong place, I mean she did truly love Edmund, she just thought she was bettering him…atleast thats how I read it. Every time I read MP I find myself disliking Edmund more and appreciating Henry Crawford more…I can’t help but think that Fanny should have given Henry a chance…I mean look at Lizzy….Darcy wasn’t perfect to start with, he made mistakes and was arrogant and showed disdain for others, but as she saw, he changed and redeemed himself and she gave him a chance because he had changed. What about poor Henry? Why was he not given the same chance? I suppose Fanny and Lizzy are completely different types of characters but I just wish Fanny would show some compassion and understanding…like she did with Edmund and his decision to play Anhalt…sure, Fanny thought it was wrong and immoral but she forgave him for making an error in judgement.
April 11th, 2008 at 10:20 am
The heroines never marry “rakes” in JA novels. Elizabeth does not marry Wickham, Catherine does not marry John Thorpe, Marrianne does not marry Willoughby, Anne does not marry William Elliot, and Emma does not marry Frank Churchill- so it would not follow suite that Fanny would “give Henry Crawford a chance”.
The heroine may be attracted at first to the rake, but his true character is always ultimately revealed.
April 11th, 2008 at 10:34 am
At the risk of repeating what someone else has said, I’m posting without having read all the comments.
*ducks, pauses, looks around*
Ok, here goes.
The main jarring tendency I’ve noticed recently is Austen’s bent toward overemphasizing the positive aspects of restraint while ignoring the negative effects it sometimes has. I’m thinking mostly of Sense and Sensibility here, but she does do this in her other novels as well. Yes, of course, yes Marrianne’s behavior is selfish and self-indulgent, and yes Elinor’s is much more esteemable. But Austen generally seems to take the view that, except on rare occassions, it’s better to not ever indulge in any of your unpleasant emotions. The only counter-example that I can think of off hand is that Jane and Lizzy confide in each other, but even here it breaks down, because Jane is constantly trying to hide how hurt she really is, even to Lizzy.
And yes, of course I understand why this was what Austen espoused; I understand that one was supposed to avoid giving others pain, even if it was painful for you, and to a certain extent I can even recognize the validity of it. But I still think she takes it overboard.
Probably I’m applying too much of my modern sensibilities to it (I’m deffinately noticing it more since I’m reading a book on emotion suppression right now). But the reason it bothers me so much is because usually Austen is to psychologically astute, and this is the one instance that I can see where she misses just a bit.
April 11th, 2008 at 11:04 am
I completely agree with Diana I-C (#49). S&S is my second favorite of JA’s novels, but I think I would have enjoyed it even more if the Dashwood sisters — both of them — had come to appreciate a balance between sense and sensibility, rather than Marianne simply coming over completely to Elinor’s “sense” side of things. While there’s no question that Marianne needed to rein her emotions in, I would also have liked to have seen Elinor loosen up a bit; her continual repression of her own feelings, however well-intentioned, doesn’t strike me as entirely healthy.
April 11th, 2008 at 11:33 am
#41 - Haddie, not quite the next minute, but even Darcy concedes that he’s been kinder to Bingley than he was to himself. At least he recognizes what he’s doing.
April 11th, 2008 at 3:38 pm
To Anna re: #29
Mr. Henry Dashwood, Father to Elinor, Marianne and Margaret, has “seven thousand pounds at his own disposal.” The thousand pounds belonging to each of the girls (3K total) was left to them by their father’s uncle. Hence the four women will have the interest of ten thousand pounds to live on. All of this is in the first chapter of S&S (second page of the novel, in my edition).
Additionally, Mr. Dashwood had intended to increase their inheritance by economising and saving money he made during his tenure as owner of Norland. But his death comes one year after inheriting Norland, so that doesn’t leave him much time to save money and add it to his small fortune.
April 11th, 2008 at 3:57 pm
Oops, forgot to mention that Harry Dashwood, son of John and Fanny, was indeed mentioned in the entail of Old Mr. Dashwood’s will. Like his father before him, John Dashwood is only a life tennant, with his son (little Harry) as the “tenant in tail.”
April 11th, 2008 at 5:23 pm
Interesting observations, Maisy — the reference to Henry Dashwood inheriting only 1 year before he died made me look to see whether he and his daughters had only moved there 1 year before, which if true would change the emotional dynamics of leaving; it shouldn’t be so very upsetting to leave a place after only 1 year in it. But they had lived there 10 years before inheriting, when the uncle still lived and controlled it, so by the time of his death, it was the place where all three girls had spent the vast majority of their lives.
An eleven-year residence in such a grand house makes me think that they must have had a wide acquaintance in the neighborhood. In the novel this is not touched on at all (I just re-checked) but if I were planning a new film version I think I would include a brief scene near the start of a respectful neighbor calling on the the grieving Dashwood women, a bereaved friend of the died-too-young father, perhaps a smitten beau wishing Marianne loved him — something to show that they are being thrown out not only of a grand house but a loving community, a community they can no longer bear to be part of when reduced to the much poorer lower status they must now endure.
Also, the fact that the Dashwood women had 10,000 pounds makes them less poor than is presented in the various film versions, and makes the brother’s stinginess less catastrophic — the most he had intended was 3,000 pounds total, giving them 13,000 rather than 10,000, before his wife started in on him to whittle it down.
April 11th, 2008 at 5:35 pm
Hello to all,
I have some difficulty with the ideas in Constructive Criticism.
It would seem to me that with any work of imagination what we have is what the author gave us. The characters delineated are what the author intended. The situations described are bound up with the character’s development. The societal views, ethical pronouncements are germane to the plot, to the time and culture described. I would propose the analogy to a photograph. The image is fixed. The persons, the scene, illustrated condition, is frozen in time. ie. the artist’s intent. From such a perspective we can criticize the composition, the technique of the author but not the characters in the photograph, not the scenery, only the artistic affect archived. Returning to the novel, we can criticize the verisimilitude, the depth of characterization, the aesthetic juxtaposition of words and phrases, the uniqueness of vision.
However when we pass moral judgment on Mrs Bennet, Henry Crawford, Marianne or Elinor, Mr. Woodhouse or Mrs. Smith, we are in effect rewriting, not criticizing Austen. We are substituting our own values for those that Austen imbued in the characters. Isn’t it hubris to suppose that our psychological insights are more acute than Austen’s? Quite apart from the fact that Austen describes a culture two hundred years removed from our own. It should give us pause.
April 11th, 2008 at 9:54 pm
Edward re: #54
I think you’re right in that the adaptations make them appear poorer than they would have been, but the reality is that they can no longer afford to keep horses or a carriage, nor can they afford pleasure horses for riding (not just Queen Mab), and I imagine that there are other substantial reductions from the lifestyle they were accumstomed to at Norland. Their combined annual income is 500 pounds.
Additionally, when each of the girls marries, the total principal will be reduced by one thousand pounds (each daughter’s portion, left to her by Old Mr. Dashwood).
April 11th, 2008 at 9:59 pm
Hi all,
I have some difficulty with the ideas in Constructive Criticism.
It would seem to me that with any work of imagination what we have is what the author gave us. The characters delineated are what the author intended. The situations described are bound up with the character’s development. The societal views, ethical pronouncements are germane to the plot, to the time and culture described. I would propose the analogy to a photograph. The image is fixed. The persons, the scene, illustrated condition, is frozen in time. ie. the artist’s intent. From such a perspective we can criticize the composition, the technique of the author but not the characters in the photograph, not the scenery, only the artistic affect archived. Returning to the novel, we can criticize the verisimilitude, the depth of characterization, the aesthetic juxtaposition of words and phrases, the uniqueness of vision.
However when we pass moral judgment on Mrs Bennet, Henry Crawford, Marianne or Elinor, Mr. Woodhouse or Mrs. Smith, we are in effect rewriting, not criticizing Austen. We are substituting our own values for those that Austen imbued in the characters. Isn’t it hubris to suppose that our psychological insights are more acute than Austen’s? Quite apart from the fact that Austen describes a culture two hundred years removed from our own. It should give us pause.
April 11th, 2008 at 10:01 pm
Oops, I left something out again. (Sorry!)
I also wanted to mention that it must have been a real hardship to suddenly be without their own source of transportation. IIRC, at Barton, Mrs. Dashwood eventually decides against socialising with people who live farther away than walking distance, as she doesn’t want to be dependent on others for transportation. Obviously, this limits their social opportunities.
I’m reminded of Austen’s letters in which she describes the frustration of having to wait until some family member or friend could conveniently transport her (or Cassandra) from one place to another. There were times when she was obliged to remain somewhere for weeks longer than she would have liked.
April 12th, 2008 at 12:57 am
A well worded post Aeneas. I agree with what you are saying, while we can wish that a storyline went a different way, we shouldn’t try to rewrite the characters. Also some dislikes people have of characters is simple characterization where Austen made them a well rounded character complete with flaws.
April 12th, 2008 at 1:53 am
I agree with you whole heartedly Aeneas.
People do strange things all the time, and JA has caught it all with her wonderful wit and pen in her own inimitable way!!
That Darcy behaved like this or that - or for that matter any other character; Marianne, Elinor etc. are all believable to me. Even Mrs Bennet’s behaviour had a reason. That she wrote this character the way she did is perfect. I only wish some sympathy was shown, especially with a husband like that, but as for what she wrote, I have no criticism there.
But that’s JA’s style. She has left all emotion for us readers to feel.
I wouldn’t rewrite any characters - I leave that to AD!!
April 12th, 2008 at 8:49 am
Emma Thompson has also done her share of rewriting JA characters.
April 12th, 2008 at 3:13 pm
Scripts of Sense and Sensibility
On a long journey to visit a friend I usually bring an Austen novel to reread or a criticism to gain a different insight. My friend’s comments inevitably are – How can you read such trash? It’s only for juvenile girls whose minds have not matured! It’s quite useless to point out to him that Austen’s prose is generally considered literature and there is an academic discipline in Austen studies. However I have an equally jaundiced view of the detective novels that he finds entertaining. To each his own taste.
However in reading the comments on the recent PBS Austen adaptations I have to give some credence to my friend’s view. Some of the adaptations are purple, more Harlequin Romances than adaptations of Austen. And the more they deviate from Austen’s themes, the more popular they are. Age does not seem to mater, as mothers and 17 year daughters find the latest S&S equally engrossing. Thus Davies seems to reflect the contemporary sensibility.
From an assumption that a Janeite would readily discriminate the faithfulness to the theme, I find the comparison “Emma Thompson has also done her share of rewriting JA characters” puzzling. An adaptation is a translation but as with extracting the meaning of a poem, there are good and bad translations. In my opinion Thomson’s preserves the fidelity of Austen’s theme while Davies, trying to be polite, butchers it.
April 12th, 2008 at 5:37 pm
I was referring to the lines Thompson wrote for P&P 2005.
April 12th, 2008 at 8:42 pm
Maisy Says: “I was referring to the lines Thompson wrote for P&P 2005.”
Apparently we’re at cross references but intriguing to say the least. Perhaps you could expand as that is not common knowledge.
The P&P 05 has a controversial reputation among the JASNA but the screenplay is publicly credited to Deborah Moggach. What is Thompson’s connection?
My opinion is that the P&P ‘05 should not be viewed as an JA adaptation but that primarily it is a commentary on the Simon Langton/Andrew Davies P&P ‘95. Thus the reference is not fidelity to JA but rather of one-upmanship on visual elements of the ‘95 adaptation.
I would gladly make my case but it would require citations of numerous examples and probably too long for a single page is AustenBlog. As you would surmise I’m of the heretical opinion that Wright’s P&P is superior to Simon Langton P&P.
April 12th, 2008 at 11:11 pm
To my knowledge, Emma Thompson wrote two scenes in the “05 P&P - the scene where Charlotte tells Lizzy of her plans to marry Mr. Collins and the final honeymoon scene at Pemberley in the North American edition.
I would be most interested to hear your views on ‘95 v. ‘05, and you may feel free to email me if you do not wish to post such a long thesis here.
April 13th, 2008 at 8:23 am
Sorry, my posting (#63) should have read: “I was *also* referring to the lines Thompson wrote for P&P 2005.” I’ll clarify by stating that I am of the opinon that if Andrew Davies is guilty of rewriting Jane Austen, so is Emma Thompson, and that includes S&S 1995.
I’m just a little tired of different standards being applied to different adaptations (and different screenwriters, and directors). I’m not defending one over another or praising one over another. I can usually find something to enjoy or appreciate in every adaptation. I’m just stating that far too often I read comments (and I mean in various places on the web and in print) in which the same standards are not being applied across the boards.
Some viewers are concerned about finding gentlemen in ladies’ dressing rooms, but have silly explanations for condoning why gentlemen in other films are in ladies’ bedrooms. I’ve read numerous complaints that one adaptation portrays Elizabeth Bennet as a tomboy (because she runs), but another Elizabeth Bennet (who runs more often, and runs for the sake of running) is considered the gold standard “non-tomboy” portrayal of the character. There are also complaints about the color of an actress’s eyebrows in one adaptation, but non-matching eyebrow color is apparently “okay” in other JA adaptations. There are many other examples I could offer, but frankly, I’m quite tired of the whole comparison thing.
I’d just appreciate a little consistency.
April 13th, 2008 at 9:58 am
A little late to the party, but I’ve always struggled with this bit from P&P:
That’s always seemed out of character to me.
April 13th, 2008 at 11:33 am
>As you would surmise I’m of the heretical opinion that Wright’s P&P is superior to Simon Langton P&P.
Aeneas, you’ve lost me there.
Much as I enjoyed P&P05, I thought a lot of characters were rewritten.
Your comment;
>I would propose the analogy to a photograph. The image is fixed. The persons, the scene, illustrated condition, is frozen in time.
I think the 80s adaptation with Elizabeth Garvie might fit this description??
Hi Maisy
I can speak only for myself.
Emma Thompson’s rewriting is tolerable to me because she came, she wrote, and she seemed to respect JA’s writing inspite of the changes. Here I hasten to add that I did not like “Mrs Darcy, Mrs Darcy…” scene, but then they were a honeymooning couple, so….*shrugs shoulders*
There is much more from AD to conclude from.
There is also his constant harping on *JA being all about sex and money* while I think most Janeites call it *love and security* considering the times. Makes me wonder with what taste and make up of mind he reads and appreciates these novels.
>I’d just appreciate a little consistency
I’m quite consistent in this matter
While most characters were rewritten in P&P05, P&P95 exaggerated most of them. The latter did leave a longer lasting impression on me than the former though.
NA07 was completely rewritten and turned into a chicklit film complete with eroticism etc, and the less I talk about KB’s Emma the better
April 13th, 2008 at 1:19 pm
Hello Reeba,
Reeba April 13th, 2008 at 11:33 am
>As you would surmise I’m of the heretical opinion that Wright’s P&P is superior to Simon Langton P&P.<
Aeneas, you’ve lost me there. Much as I enjoyed P&P05, I thought a lot of characters were rewritten.
Sorry, I was doing mental shorthand and leaving out the connecting arguments.
My reference to heretical is to what I perceive is the JASNA position of Langtonts/Davies vs Wright/Moggach P&P adaptations. Also the popular, as reflected in the opinions of the PBS MASTERPIECE: The Complete Jane Austen. An adaptation, the translation of written word to a visual medium, requires unique and difficult conventions to be successful but remain faithful to the theme of the book. Faithful to the theme is the crucial judgment for me if subjective since we all perceive and remember differently.
As an example of the difficulties, I would concur that the ‘95 P&P has more of the textual verisimilitude than the ‘05 P&P, yet would maintain that the ‘05 P&P is more faithful to Austen’s theme. The reason is that while I’ll accept the ‘95 P&P as an adaptation, I consider the ‘05 P&P as primarily a commentary on the Langton/Davies adaptation and only secondarily a visualization of P&P.
April 14th, 2008 at 2:29 am
“Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?”
Julie B- I think thats the point- it is out of character for Mr Darcy because for a few seconds his heart is ruling his head. We all act ‘out of character’ at times.
April 14th, 2008 at 7:47 pm
Aeneas– If P&P05 if primarily a commentary on P&P95, how can it be more faithful to Austen’s theme(s)? Not following your logic there.
April 14th, 2008 at 11:19 pm
To Maisy at Comment 66:
My thoughts exactly; and I do mean exactly!
I too am quite tired of the whole comparison thing and would just appreciate a little consistency. But there are as many opinions out there as people, whether you’re talking Austen or anything else. And that’s both the beauty and the bane of it. In the end, the only opinion that really counts is your own, yes?
April 15th, 2008 at 10:12 am
Diana I-C in comment 71:
You are right, there is a puzzle here.
I assume that in Pride and Prejudice Austen presupposed an unifying theme of social limits in which the individual acts and that the theme is more aesthetic than moral. Logic would require that I would explicitly define this theme before suggesting that Langton/Davies ‘95 P&P adaptation violates this theme and that the Wright/Moggach P&P is faithful to it. I’ll plead that this would require a lengthy essay beyond the scope of a comment.
However in the critique of the Langton/Davies adaptation, the foundation would be Davies’ concept of ‘updating’ Pride and Prejudice with inclusion of scenes such as fencing, horseback gallops, the wet shirt scene in Pemberly, which Davies deemed necessary to update Austen’s lack of male characterization. In my opinion such updates go beyond the allowances of translation of word into visual medium. It reeks of hubris that Davies can rewrite Austen.
The case of Wright/Moggach P&P is different in that I deem that it’s primary aim is not an adaptation of P&P but rather a commentary on Langton/Davies ‘95 P&P. A commentary in the sense that it attempts to transcend the visual element of the ‘95 P&P, that the reference is not Pride and Prejudice but rather the visualization of it. Here again I’m unable to give explicit examples due to the limits of a commentary but will attempt to do so in answer to Karen 2L note of April 12th, 2008. I beg your patience.
My case that Wright/Moggach P&P is faithful to Austen rests on the premise that the portrayal of Lizzy, “ light, bright and sparkling”, in which the ironic element of commentary by an observer is preserved and is absent in the Langton/Davies ‘95 P&P adaptation.
April 16th, 2008 at 7:12 am
Maisy, BRAVA!!!!! The hypocrisy is astounding.
April 16th, 2008 at 3:38 pm
This is such a great topic! The observations and thoughts in response are extremely intersting and thought provoking. I share many of the ideas expressed, particularly concerning Austen’s unsympathetic description of Mrs. Bennett described by Anne-Elizabeth. Despite her limitations, I think Mrs. Bennett was a good mother who was taking an active role in the direction of her daughters’ futures (contrast her with the self absorbed Lady Bertram.) Austen also seems to trivialize her physical symptoms that always struck me as expressions of anxiety and possibly hormonal changes. Perhaps this reflects a lack of understanding on Austen’s part on the experience of women with older daughters. Women in this role may have faced conflicting feelings of both wanting to see their duaghters settled well, but hating to lose them. Especially if it means leaving them alone with an unkind husband.
April 16th, 2008 at 8:50 pm
I’m humbled that this post is still collecting comments after more than a week — austenblog has a very smart & insightful readership. So in hopes that people are still checking out new comments, here are a couple:
1. I was watching the early 1980s Sense & Sensibility today, which includes the scene from the book where Willoughby comes late at night to Cleveland, but does it the right way, without Marianne watching — which means that we also get the scene later where Elinor decides to tell Marianne about his visit, and then they talk about Willoughby. And the comment is: do you think that Austen is presenting him not simply as a cad, but as a kind of male version of Marianne, in terms of a person too much under the sway of uncontrollable emotions? I am not saying that Marianne had any element of cruelty and greed as Willoughby did; they are not counterparts in that sense, but I think Austen is consciously exploring two versions of the overly “sense” oriented person, a female and a male.
2. In comments to a different post, I saw references to the novels of Gaskell, whom I had never heard of, and praise for television versions; checking on amazon there is indeed great praise for them. But my question is: do the characters in Gaskell go through the same kind of voyages of self-discovery and self-growth, manifesting self-discipline and concern for the feelings of others even at the cost of their own, as Austen’s central characters do? Perhaps there should be a separate post on this topic, asking for suggestions as to characters in the novels of other writers who are comparable to Austen’s characters.