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| Endofmarch. "Jane Eyre & Mr. Rochester/Elizabeth Bennet & Mr. Darcy." Flikr, 26 Sept. 2011, https://www.flickr.com/photos/endofmarch/6183231306 , Accessed 26 March 2020. |
In a completely unrelated note, I love the scene where Mr. Collins proposes to Elizabeth, and insists that he is well aware that "it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept" (77). This is profound for two reasons: first, Mr. Collins' words prove to be entirely correct, as Lizzy will first reject Darcy's proposal and later accept it. (What a lovely tie-in to the theme - perhaps we all were too quick to despise Mr. Collins out of hand!) Second, this highlights such an important social custom that has complicated relationships for centuries: how can we lambaste men for not taking "no" for an answer when social custom dictates that women feign resistance to prevent being labeled as, for example, a whore for wanting to have sex? (Harsh example, I know, but there are so many ways that women are expected to be coy and coquettish as an expression of femininity that directly interfere with clear communication.)
While reading your post I was reminded of a lot of the thoughts I had while reading the novel--I had recently read an essay for another class discussing eighteenth and nineteenth century female writers, what they wrote about, and why. Concerning Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë, they were so desperate to write, be published, and to get their work out there, that they often wrote about their own experiences both in desperation to have these experiences be told, but also to for the first time have female characters be accurately portrayed (*ahem*, men are historically not so great at writing about the woman mind). This understandable desperation quickly led to women writers falling into this genre trap of what they can write about: love and the female perspective. I think that's why it's so easy for us to make connections between novels from this time, such as Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice, as you had pointed out. While the contents of these novels might not be overtly revolutionary in theme for us today, they really were for the time because these accurate perspectives of women characters were being told for the first time.
ReplyDeleteFor my own feminist two cents, I think one of the things that makes this book semi-revolutionary is that both Lizzy and Darcy have to learn a lesson. It's not just about her journey, or about her trying to reform the man and help him find his humanity (which is why books like Jane Eyre and Rebecca kind of fall flat for me). They both have to learn something. They have to meet in the middle.
ReplyDeleteAs much as I do enjoy every film version of P&P (even the bad ones have something I love!), I get really pissed at how wrong Joe Wright's 2005 film get this. Keira Knightley goes on a big rant about how stupid she was, at how she missed how perfect Darcy is. But without Darcy's straightforward acknowledgement of his own errors and the way that she has helped him be a better man, it just falls into the trap of way too many other romances. And yes, I do still like this movie, but I always yell at the screen in that part. ;-)
Yes, it's true that P&P is much more about growth and change than Jane Eyre is (though I think J.E. is pretty revolutionary when she leaves Rochester as a moral act, despite that she's penniless and has nowhere to go!). It is satisfying that many of the flaws Elizabeth believes Darcy to have are the same ones that she demonstrates in her misguided beliefs about him.
DeleteYes! One of the things that bothers me about pop culture's understanding of the novel is that many people attribute the traits in the title to just one character. As Sheldon Cooper in the Big Bang Theory sums up, "He has too much pride, she has too much prejudice. It just works." But, for me, they both demonstrate both. Lizzy triumphs prejudice because her opinions of people stayed on the surface level of what she thought of them after first meeting tends to be her opinion set in stone. But her primary grievance with Darcy on the first encounter was what she overheard him say about her beauty. The insult to her pride most decidedly fixed her opinion. Her refusal of Mr. Collins could also be perceived as a choice made from pride. That she thought it was beneath her to marry such a man. In her protest to Charlotte's engagement, she does not say, "But you don't love him." She viewed it as "a most humiliating picture" and thought Charlotte was "disgracing herself" (94). The two traits of the novel are not exclusive; they can work hand in hand in the same individual.
DeleteThe first proposal from Mr. Darcy compares to Mr. Collins proposal. Both men were condescending and acted as if they were doing Elizabeth a favor. The standards for marriage years ago differed. Women were viewed as hopeless without a man. Elizabeth had a strength and independence that was uncommon. She also wanted to marry for love, not just money or social status.
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