Mansfield Park, ch. 41: Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

Not Henry. He does visit the Prices for the sole purpose of courting Fanny, but notably he doesn’t stick around for an actual meal. Yes, I’m afraid Patricia Rozema lied about that.

Wow. One paragraph in and I’m already more snarky than usual. I think it’s these Portsmouth chapters that are getting me down. After four weeks there, Fanny’s getting antsy and I’m like, same.

Her frustration manifests in obsessing over the state of Medmund, which is the exact opposite of what she hoped the visit would do for her. So when Henry arrives, all ready to flatter William and sweet-talk Mrs. Price and squirrel his way into taking Fanny (and a very impressionable Susan) on a walk, Fanny can’t be bothered with feeling angry and taken advantage of. Remember, this is a guy who’s been writing notes to her inside his sister’s letters to her (after putting on a show of being dejected after Fanny’s multiple rejections). She’s that starved for a familiar face. It may also help that Henry doesn’t announce himself as her paramour.

Early on during the walk, the three run into Mr. Price, which only makes Fanny more anxious. The narrator drops a truth-bomb: “I believe there is scarcely a young lady in the United Kingdoms who would not rather put up with the misfortune of being sought by a clever, agreeable man, than have him driven away by the vulgarity of her nearest relations.” So does this mean Fanny has a little bit of an ego? I love that for her. Some readers take one look at Fanny’s feelings about her family and declare her a snob, but it’s hard to blame her for not wanting her parents (who, may I remind you, often act as though she isn’t there) to reflect badly on her. It’s not as if she’s worried that Susan is going to embarrass her. Put it this way: If your social standing was dependent on an air-headed mom and a perma-tipsy dad who forgot about you most of the time, would you be happy about it?

It turns out that both her parents acquit themselves well when in the presence of a well-mannered man of the gentry. I feel like Austen’s trying to make another point here about education and good influences, or maybe even education versus good influences. (It helps, also, that Mr. Price and Henry only have enough time for surface-level conversations, since Fanny gets her shopping in town done quickly.)

On their trip on the docks, Fanny is “most conveniently in want of rest,” and Henry sets to work trying to distract Susan with entertaining stories and engage Fanny in a more pointed topic (he’s an old hand at multi-tasking). Now I’m not going to pretend that I’m an expert on English Regency estate issues or leases or nefarious agents. But by talking about his estate so intimately, Henry is showing himself as a respectable and conscientious land-owner (kind of like a certain older brother). He’s also finding a way to talk about the house, Everingham, that Fanny would be mistress of if/when she decides to marry him. The second he alludes to this desire, however, all of the good-will he built up in Fanny evaporates.

So he switches the topic to Mansfield Park, which gets Fanny back on track. He really lays it on thick, too, “speaking of her uncle as all that was clever and good, and her aunt as having the sweetest of all sweet tempers.” Well, of course he like Sir Thomas—the man is practically captain of Team Hanny. In describing the “society” among them, Henry name-checks Sotherton, which … doesn’t seem like the brightest idea? He appears to have some clue as to how much Fanny witnessed between him and Maria, so you’d think he wouldn’t want to remind Fanny of all that while he’s courting her. Maybe he has to acknowledge the entire Bertram family circle for the sake of appearance. He digs himself into a deeper hole (unknowingly, to be fair) when he alludes to Mary’s potential future as Ed’s wife. Fanny, convinced that their engagement is inevitable, scolds herself for being too meek to ask more about them.

Once they part, Fanny is relieved that Henry won’t be subjected to a meal at the Prices’ home. In general, “she thought him altogether improved since she had seen him; he was much more gentle, obliging, and attentive to other people’s feelings than he had ever been at Mansfield.” Do you agree with that assessment? Because I’m not sure that I do. Look at it this way: she’s grateful that Henry chooses not to dine with her, she’s grateful that her parents behaved themselves in front of him, she’s grateful that he took “particularly kind and proper” notice of Susan. See a pattern here? Maybe in the absence of Mansfield, Fanny feels she must find something (or someone) else to be obliged to.

Next chapter: More Henry time, Fanny counts the days until she’s back at Mansfield Park, and some very interesting last-minute advice.