Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Pride and Prejudice (pg. 1-156)

It is immediately apparent from the opening set up of Pride and Prejudice that money, inheritance, and class are of utmost importance in the world occupied by the novel. However, within this more general motif, a few things stood out to me. Besides the fact that the Bennet girls out of necessity seek wealthy husbands in order to support them, it seems there is another less obvious motive for marrying rich. Mrs. Bennet says: "What an excellent father you have, girls . . . I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me either, for that matter" (5). The idea that children have to "repay" their parents is not entirely foreign, in that children often take care of parents as they age, but Mrs. Bennet seems to imply some financial recompense as well. If this is the case, then the burden a daughter faces by not inheriting her father's estate (as the Bennet girls do) is twofold: firstly supporting herself, but also "making amends," financial or otherwise, to her mother after her father dies. If the Bennet girls do not marry into money, they let down their parents as well as relinquishing their own comfortable life.
Though this necessity of marrying into wealth is obvious, the moral judgment of considering money when making romantic decisions is not entirely clear. Elizabeth understands why Wickham would pursue Miss King (with her newly inherited fortune) rather than her, but doesn't understand Darcy's justification of why he advised Bingley away from marrying Jane (who is poor). This is a bit of a double standard: it is acceptable to pursue wealth if you do not have it, but unacceptable (at least to Elizabeth) to be concerned about marrying into wealth if you already are wealthy. While Elizabeth is generally an extremely likable, rational, and honest character, she is still also subject to the social ideals and necessity of marrying for money: for instance, she likes Colonel Fitzwilliam well enough but can't even consider marrying him because he does not inherit the family's fortune. This emphasizes the extent to which money is engrained into females' consciousness, and that this somewhat unsavory pursuit is essentially unavoidable regardless of quality of character.
Amidst this constant background of the importance of money, the borders between socioeconomic classes are described as artificial and in many ways meaningless. The most obvious example of this is the pretense and snobbery of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr. Collins also says "Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinctions of rank preserved" (124). Lady Catherine's preference about clothing here reveals the fabricated nature of aristocracy: at this point, the only distinguishing feature to recommend the aristocracy or really differentiate them from other classes is clothing.

Another obvious motif throughout the novel is the process of courtship. I found the successes, failures, and processes of the the various different courtships that occur to be quite revealing about morals and standards of the time. Unlike the Enlightenment periodicals, in which a women's coquettishness is heavily criticized, the relationship between Jane and Bingley presents the dangers of the opposite: insufficient display of affection. Charlotte says of the couple "he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on" (15). Partly as a consequence of Jane's subtlety, Darcy advises Bingley against pursuing Jane further. Not only is flirtation no longer a problem: it is actually a necessity.
Beyond this initial condition for courtship, a more profound question arises: to what degree should you really know someone in order to make a good decision about their character, and whether to marry them? How can you judge someone objectively? Or is subjective judgment more important in the realm of love? On one hand, Wickham points "I have known [Darcy] too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible to be impartial" (58). In this way of thinking, knowing someone too well actually impedes objectivism. However, this applies to a friendship rather than a romance, and must be taken with a grain of salt given Wickham's deception about Darcy. On the other end of this spectrum are Jane and Bingley: Charlotte and others wonder whether they can actually be in love after knowing each other for so short a time. In general, however, it seems that this is not considered problematic, and in fact I was struck by the speed at which most of the courtships/marriages in the novel occur. Because marriage is primarily practical, it is logical that the time period of "getting to know each other" is less important, however, for cases of actual love such as Jane and Bingley, perhaps speed simply intensifies the process but is not actually problematic.
Another somewhat bizarre characterization of courtship, related to the haste with which it often occurs, is unwillingness. Mr. Collins says to Lizzie, "You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been a little unwillingness" (80), and then later refuses to accept that Elizabeth is actually rejecting him. On one level, Mr. Collins is too silly and pompous to realize that he is being rejected; on another,  he actually relishes in coercing Lizzie into something she doesn't want (albeit unsuccessfully). This strange joy in her unwillingness seems to contrast the earlier emphasis on the necessity of female flirtation: being too eager. It also communicates some level of misogyny, in that women are required to be slightly desexualized, and "unwilling" so that they can be appropriately overpowered by men. However, since Lizzie is able to reject Mr. Collins' advances, and is obviously not in any real danger, it seems that perhaps Mr. Collins' attitude is somewhat outdated and gradually becoming less socially acceptable.

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