Pride and Prejudice, Part 2

The elephant bookmark strikes again!

My thoughts: Ok, I finished rereading Pride and Prejudice. I should mention that I’ve only read two Jane Austen novels—this one, and Sense and Sensibility. I was supposed to read Northanger Abbey in a college Romanticism class, and didn’t finish it. I was also supposed to read Emma in another class, and, guess what? Didn’t finish. I used to be pretty bad about that.

I like Pride and Prejudice because it portrays how complex courtship and infatuation can be. “The course of true love never did run smooth,” wrote Shakespeare in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. And that’s evident here. Jane and Bingley are kept apart because of the machinations of others, but also because of Bingley’s inability to stand up to Mr. Darcy and sisters (really, he needs to get a backbone). Elizabeth and Darcy are kept apart because, well, they both need to grow up a bit and get over themselves. However, reading the last half of the book, it’s easy to see why people (well, women) idolize Mr. Darcy. He behaves like a grown-up in situations when many people would act like children. He is really nice and accommodating to Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, when they bump into him during their tour of his home, Pemberley. This is after Lizzy coldly rejected his proposal. Most people would not behave with such maturity toward someone who turned them down (and some would, no doubt, have had Elizabeth and the Gardiners escorted off the property). Darcy had trouble expressing his love for Lizzy verbally, but he proves his loyalty to her by saving Lydia and the whole Bennet family from ruin following her tryst with Wickham—proving that actions really do speak louder than words.

My loathing of Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are pretty constant during the length of the book. I never lose the desire to climb into the pages and slap them down. Speaking of Lydia, I think it’s realistic that she does not change her undisciplined ways after said rescue from Darcy. She does not even realize that she is being rescued or why she needs to be. As I observed while reading Bonjour Tristesse, people usually don’t change their behavior when they should—this can be said of Lydia. Come to think of it, Cecile from Bonjour Tristesse is a lot like our Lydia Bennet—both act like they are adults, but are not ready to grow up.

In the final chapters is my favorite moment of the book—Elizabeth’s verbal smackdown of Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the latter practically marches into the Bennet home and tells Lizzy that she, Lady Catherine, forbids Lizzy from marrying Mr. Darcy—before they were even engaged. Lizzy tells her off in such a well-worded yet respectful way—would that all of us could be as eloquent as her when confronting someone who wants to tear us down. Elizabeth stands up for herself, basically tells Lady Catherine to mind her own business, and does not cower before Lady Catherine as many others (like Mr. Collins) do. Perhaps this is why Elizabeth Bennet is such an admired character. Their confrontation is one of my favorite moments in literature ever.

Now, a word about Mr. Wickham. Before, I mentioned that every woman has met someone like Mr. Collins. I wonder if the same can be said for Mr. Wickham. He’s like the popular high school jock that everyone believes to be good and no one can see is really a jerk until it’s too late. The “moral” of Pride and Prejudice is not to judge others until you really know them. This can be said of Darcy—who, though flawed, proves to have a better character than almost anyone else in the novel. But it can also be said of Wickham—no one who, when they first met him, would have believed that he was an incredible liar who preys on naïve young girls. Jane Austen tells us not to be taken in by a stranger’s dazzling smile and tale of woe. He may be hiding something…

Great passage (from the confrontation between Lady Catherine and Elizabeth—really, it’s a thing of beauty):
“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”
“But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behavior as this, ever induce me to be explicit.”
“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”
“Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.”

Up next: I’m not sure, but I’m thinking of rereading Sense and Sensibility