Mansfield Park, ch. 14: I Hope I Get It
Credit to Darya Shnykina for her awesome and accurate portrayal of Henry Crawford using the Bertram sisters' vanity for his entertainment. |
The carpenter has already begun work on constructing the stage and Mrs. Norris is quote-unquote supervising the maids as they sew together a curtain … and the Bertram Players have yet to actually decide on which play they want to perform. I have no words.
No, just kidding, I have several, several words coming your way.
No, just kidding, I have several, several words coming your way.
Tom wants one kind of play, the rest want another kind. Mary C. (in what I can’t help but read as a halfhearted attempt to turn his head) will act in whatever play Tom chooses. Everyone wants to play the best characters with the best lines. Shakespeare is roundly dismissed (talk about picky). There have to be enough female roles, and roles in general so that nobody is left out.
At least Fanny’s having a pretty decent time watching the never-ending bickering. She’d like to see a play acted, “but every thing of higher consequence [goes] against” that desire. She cannot fully accept or enjoy any acting that’s going on while Sir Thomas is away. I submit this as further evidence for my “Fanny must show gratitude properly” theory.
Then Tom has the epiphany that they might as well put on Lovers’ Vows, the original play that Mr. Yates & Co. were going to put on.
So here’s where we’ll take a breath to go over a quick summary of the play. Adapted from a German play by Elizabeth Inchbald and published in 1798, Lovers’ Vows is part-comedy, part-tragedy. Agatha is an older woman meeting up with her son Frederick (born out of wedlock), returning from war, and tells him that his father is Baron Wildenhaim. Meanwhile, the Baron is trying to get his impish daughter Amelia to marry the comic relief, Count Cassel, but she’s got her eye on Anhalt, the family’s chaplain. There’s a butler who composes over-the-top poetry and a lot of flirting instigated by Amelia, and Agatha and Frederick have lots of scenes where they hug and cling to each other. It ends with the two principle couples getting together once the Count is out of the picture and the Baron starts listening to the chaplain’s advice.
Lovers' Vows as Mansfield Park alt-universe fanfic. |
So here’s how the casting goes down: Tom offers to take the role of butler, Maria suggests to an unsuspecting Mr. Yates that he’s the perfect height to play the Baron, which leaves Henry C. free to snag the part of the dashing, tragic Frederick. But what of Agatha and Amelia? Both of the Bertram sisters are eyeing the Agatha role, especially once Tom casts Mary as Amelia.
And then Henry makes his move. “I could not stand your countenance dressed up in woe and paleness,” he pleads with Julia. “The many laughs we had together would infallibly come across me ...” (Cheap, easy laughs.) But this time, she doesn’t succumb to his charm. Disappointed and suspicious, she sees “the smile of triumph which Maria was trying to suppress.” Tom, oblivious to this micro-drama, agrees with Henry that Julia isn’t serious enough to pull off a tragic part. Mr. Yates swoops in on her behalf (Austen's playing fast and loose with these crushes, isn’t she?) and Henry makes a passionate-sounding argument for her to play Amelia, saying the part calls for “a delicacy of feeling,” “a gentlewoman.” And then Tom puts the kibosh on that once and for all. Thanks, Tom.
Tom’s insistence that Mary, not Julia, play the part of Amelia is baffling. Either he’s so proud of his ability to cast the right people to the right parts that he refuses to consider any alternative, or he’s trolling his sister for the LOLs. I doubt he has any thoughts of courting Mary at this point.
Henry, however, is committed to “his supplication.” The line he has about the flower basket references the only scene that Frederick and Amelia share one-on-one (as opposed to the bevy of scenes between Frederick and Agatha). Julia’s vague suspicion sharpens at this point: “[W]as he only trying to soothe and pacify her, and make her overlook the previous affront?” Yes. Yes, Julia. That is exactly what he’s doing. Once again, it all comes down to her sister’s reaction, and once again, Maria’s “serenity and satisfaction” convinces her that Henry is “at treacherous play with her.” (With them both, obviously, but Julia can only think about herself at this moment.)
Julia lashes out at Henry, then at the play (which, to be fair, had not been her choice), and finally at the comedy genre. She storms off. Maria sniffs that she’d give up the part to Julia if only she thought Julia wouldn’t be so awful in the role. Funny how they’re all bagging on Julia's acting skills right now. If Maria had cooled it with her smirks of triumph and tried to look as neutral as possible, this blow-up wouldn’t have happened and no one’s feelings would’ve been hurt. But neither sister cares about the other’s feelings; this is all-out war, and to the victor goes Henry’s affections. (Meanwhile, Henry's having a grand old time messing with their heads.)
The Bertram Company Players exeunt stage left to see how the construction of the theater is coming along (seriously, imagine how angry your dad would be if you altered his favorite room while he was on a business trip), and Fanny sits down with a copy of Lovers’ Vows to see what the fuss is about. Once she realizes that the play entails an unwed mother and a female character who is a shameless flirt, she doubts that they realize what they’re getting into. On that score, obviously, our innocent little Fanny is wrong: Maria knows exactly what she’s doing by reserving the Agatha role for herself.
Next chapter: Edmund makes one last stand, everyone gangs up to bully Fanny, and Mary Crawford does something truly remarkable.
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