Mansfield Park, ch. 35: Help Me To Help You

Credit to Emily Yendle. This scene references chapter 11, but it also
reflects the emotional distance between Fanny and Edmund at this
point in the story.

Sometimes, even when we’re trying to be our best, we only hear what we want to hear. Funny how that keeps happening around Fanny. Instead of hearing “no,” Henry hears try again when I’m more vulnerable. Instead of hearing, “I don’t like him enough,” Sir Thomas hears “ingratitude.” And now we have Ed, who has heard that a Crawford sibling has overcome his own materialism and distaste for matrimony to pledge his heart to a young woman who is steady, conservative, and doesn’t have much of a dowry to offer.

As Ed admits, he “has no common interest in Crawford.” In fact, his interest is very particular. But I’d like to posit that Ed, despite his bias, raises a couple of good points in his argument for the union of Hanny. His position that Fanny shouldn’t have said yes to Henry and that her “conduct has been faultless” is both Austen’s own sentiment and a point in his favor. His follow-up, a plea to “let [Henry] succeed at last,” carries a lot of baggage. It is that “at last” part that Ed dwells on as he suggests that Fanny’s reluctance to leave Mansfield would have been an obstacle for any man who might pursue her. And when Fanny illustrates the differences between her and Henry, Ed replies that those differences might be more helpful than she’s giving them credit: “He is lively, you are serious; but so much the better: his spirits will support yours.”

Honestly, Ed’s description of the complementary traits that make up a successful couple has merit. Austen’s other novels demonstrate that the combination of “lively” and “serious” is, at worst, not a deal-breaker, and at best, almost perfect. And let’s not forget that part of Ed’s argument is that Henry will be a comfort to Fanny, and that is what Ed wants for her.

Of course, Ed doesn’t know the full context of Henry’s behavior. When Fanny reminds Ed that Henry appeared to be “behaving … so very improperly and unfeelingly” during the Lovers’ Vows debacle, Ed concludes that “we were all wrong together; but none so wrong as myself.” While his rush to bear responsibility is noble in a sense, that same rush causes him to skip over what Fanny was trying to say. Ed also outright dismisses the idea of Julia crushing on Henry, instead proposing that his sisters wanted Henry’s admiration rather than his love.

It ought to go without saying that, had Ed not been distracted by his admiration for Mary, he’d probably have had more time and sense to make some of the same observations Fanny did.

As if to prove my point, Ed continues to drift from the original topic of conversation to praise Mary’s strong interest in Hanny. After all, “[h]er heart is made for love and kindness, not for resentment” (except for when she resented both Ed and Sir Thomas for Ed’s commitment to joining the clergy). Fanny’s repeated questions about Mrs. Grant’s presence in the room is either her way of asking if Ed saw Mary alone (in theory, a perfect opportunity for him to propose), or her way of trying to get him to stop talking about Mary.

Then Fanny makes one of the most overlooked speeches in Austen literature: She deconstructs the idea of, well, the ideal lover: “Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.” Atta girl!* She advocates for a woman’s right to be a little choosy when it comes to, you know, deciding who she’s going to spend the rest of her life with. Coming from Fanny, this is especially poignant; Ed earlier tried to play the obligation card, assuming that Fanny “must be sorry for [her] own indifference.” But there’s no “must” about it. She knows who deserves her gratitude. She knows that Henry isn’t entitled to it, nor to her affections.

Ed only understands in part the point she’s trying to make. Though he praises Fanny for acting as her heart dictates, he still believes that her heart can and will change to suit Henry’s (and everyone’s) wishes. But it’s not until after he relays Mary’s joke about Fanny’s obliging nature that he realizes that Fanny is the only one who’s not laughing. Contrast this chapter with chapter 3, which also features Ed trying to soothe Fanny’s anxieties and talk her into accepting that which she struggles to accept. Only the difference here is a Fanny who knows her own mind and her own heart.

The elephant in the drawing room is, of course, Fanny’s “pre-engaged” heart. She wouldn’t dare mention it to Ed, which is why she sounds evasive at times. I think it’s pretty safe to say that hearing the guy of your dreams urge you to give in to an entitled, two-timing playboy is yet another way the universe is punishing Fanny.

Unfortunately, the universe isn’t done yet. By the time the punishments have stacked up, you’ll be begging for more Mrs. Norris instead.

Soon to come: Mary Crawford offers a most stinging insult in the form of her friendship.

*Elizabeth Bennet would 100% agree with this sentiment.