Mansfield Park, ch. 10: Good Fences

Mr. Rushworth adds 2 and 2 together.
And ends up with ... 3.

Fanny isn’t alone too long, as the odd threesome of Maria, Henry C., and Rushworth are coming up the path.

They decide to keep her company. Maria is having the time of her life with two men hanging on her every word. She prods Rushworth into getting a key to unlock the gated ha-ha that faces them, and after he leaves, she and Henry seem to forget that Fanny is there as well. The topic of their oh-so-subtle conversation is Sotherton, which Henry declares that he won’t like as much in the future (that is, once Maria and Rushworth marry). He says that his “feelings are not quite so evanescent,” implying that he will still feel strongly about Miss Bertram once she becomes Mrs. Rushworth. He tosses in a neg about Julia being “easily amused” for good measure.

Maria is obviously affected by all this intense attention, quoting Lawrence Sterne to describe the “restraint” she feels at Sotherton already. Henry makes a teeny tiny suggestion that, hey, Maria, if you’re up to it, we could always just step over the top of this super-low part of the fence if you think it’d be cool. Fanny tries to stop Maria, but instead Maria and Henry make it over the ha-ha with no problem, and they leave her there to pass on the message that, you know, Rushworth’s fiancee is now roaming his land alone with a man she’s not engaged to.

Henry Crawford gives Maria Bertram a helping hand

A little while later, Julia comes stomping across the path, demanding to know where everyone (read: Henry) has gone, and passive-aggressively blaming Fanny for not being in her place (stuck with the mother-in-law and Mrs. Norris). Julia is determined to find Henry and her sister, sniffing that she won’t “punish” herself for Maria’s “sins.”

Um … we’ll put a pin in that.

Then, finally, Rushworth returns with the key—only to be told by a sympathetic Fanny where everyone (read: his freakin’ fiancee) has gone. They have a funny back-and-forth that reads like the first draft of a Marx Bros. stand-up routine, but it’s obvious that Rushworth is starting to notice that Henry’s been hogging a lot of Maria’s attention. He reflects on how much nicer life was before the Crawfords came along, and Fanny silently agrees. Then she encourages him to seek Maria and Henry out, and once he leaves, she takes her own advice and goes off in search of Edmund.

Now, between all the longing from Maria and persuading from Henry and the bad moods of their respective mates, Fanny hasn’t had a lot of time to feel sorry about her own predicament. But it’s important to point out that for the first time in the novel, she has become impatient—and she lets that impatience inspire her to act. It’s really interesting when Fanny chooses to act (or refuses to when a situation calls on her to act), because she’s primarily motivated by intense emotions. Usually, those emotions are because of Edmund, as they are now.

So she walks along the path for a time, and then finally hears Mary C.’s laughter and heads that way. And where does Fanny find them?

The avenue.

The place that Fanny most wanted to visit before anyone—ANYONE—even thought of going to Sotherton. And Edmund and Mary have been sitting among the beautiful oak trees (the same trees that Fanny hoped to see), talking and laughing together while careless of the time, for an hour.

My gut has been thoroughly wrenched, you guys.

Edmund is all, “I was wishing you were here the whole time, though!” (not an actual quote) as if that makes up for it. But even Fanny—sweet, unobtrusive, modest Fanny—isn’t satisfied with this, or his excuse that he assumed she was too weak to make the trek out to the avenue. And, to me, this is the saddest part: Edmund knows that Fanny wanted to see the avenue. He almost didn’t go to Sotherton just so Fanny could have the chance to see it. And then his brains just blips like this? I realize that Edmund doesn’t owe Fanny his constant attention (I’ve previously made the case that she knows this as well), but it’s hard to blame her for feeling neglected—even despite all he’s done for her.

And why does he neglect Fanny? Because he’s charmed by Mary (as he was during the My Little Pony: Sharing is Magic episode). But I’d like to take a minute to break this down. What did Mary spend the previous chapter doing? Deriding Edmund for his choice of career and mocking the very idea of religion. And despite this, he happily spends a whole hour alone with her. A whole hour! With a woman who mocked his profession! I guess she stopped telling him how stupid religion is long enough for him to forget about it? But one thing is clear: Edmund is willing to disregard whatever caustic remarks Mary makes because she doesn’t sound caustic. Mary is a witty story-teller and has “talents for the light and lively,” meaning she doesn’t dwell on the negative for long.

Later, Fanny observes that Henry seems to be “taking particular pains, during dinner, to do away any little resentment of [Julia and Rushworth], and restore general good–humour.” Which makes her care even less for him.

I think this passage illustrates two things. First, Henry going into damage control implies that he possesses some degree of self-awareness. Second, Edmund has been aligned with his sisters: all three are charmed by the Crawford siblings. Henry makes the effort to make Julia feel like the queen bee on the ride home, ensuring that she doesn’t end the day feeling neglected. Maria is disappointed in Henry’s decision just as Edmund was disappointed in Mary … but Edmund also enjoys Mary’s attention the same way that both sisters enjoy Henry’s.

When the Crawfords decide to be charming, it’s super-effective. When they miss their mark, though, the other characters (not just Fanny) see another, darker side to them.

Anyway, the party heads back to Mansfield Park. Mrs. Norris is bringing home a shit-ton of groceries, thanks to her new buddy the Sotherton housekeeper. She casually rewrites history to imply that Fanny has her to thank for being able to go to Sotherton.

So we end the day with Fanny, Maria, and possibly Julia and Mary trying “to determine whether the day had afforded most pleasure or pain.” So we get our first hint that Mary’s feelings for Edmund may, in fact, be real.

Next up: An update on Sir Thomas, stargazing, and Fanny the humanist