Mansfield Park, ch. 48: Satisfied

Credit to Janelle Carbajal. Sigh ...

Oh my God. I’m here. We’re here. I had no idea how to imagine this day, ha, or even this post. But here we go!

How many of you were surprised to see our narrator pop up so cheerfully when you first read this chapter? It’s so delightfully out-of-place that you have to admire the sheer brashness.

So, since this is such a specific chapter (it almost seems like the ending of the story proper happened in the previous chapter), I’m going to go through this character-by-character. Everybody falls into one of two categories: Who is in? And who is out?

OUT:

Mr. Rushworth gets a divorce, a process that was only affordable (financially as well as socially) to the very rich, and that only the husband could initiate. I’ve long suspected that Austen, knowing this, was balancing the scales by having Maria be the guilty party. There’s no indication that Rushworth has learned anything from his experience. Not saying he deserved what he got, but let’s face it: he’s no less superficial than his ex-wife.

Mary and the Grants move out post-haste due to embarrassment. Mary has no trouble attracting potential suitors but her lingering feelings for Ed distract her from making up her mind, at least for a time. Mrs. Grant is still a good sister. Of note: Mary does not go on to live with her brother. Whether this is because he is tainted by the scandal or still refuses to settle in one house is left unanswered. Dr. Grant died as he lived: stuffed with rich food.

Maria and Mrs. Norris set up house somewhere in England and nowhere near Mansfield Park. Maria got sick of living with a man who wasn’t going to marry her and left him, officially putting an end to a turgid affair that began before she married another man. Mrs. Norris took personal offense to Sir Thomas’s refusal to invite Maria back to Mansfield Park. This decision may seem jarring to us modern-day readers (Maria’s forced exile from society doesn’t sit well, regardless of how unlikable she is) as it appears that Mrs. Norris has suddenly turned into a proto-feminist. But let me remind you that the last time a family member of hers created a scandal, she angrily severed ties with her. Maria, born into wealth and privilege, apparently deserves instant forgiveness. Hmm.

Henry gets away with it, but he doesn’t get the girl. We are given the details of how and why he resurrected his flirtation with Maria: His ego was very much scathed by Maria’s talk-to-the-hand attitude. In Henry’s world, an unimpressed Maria cannot, should not exist. And it must be said that this is a guy who loves to multitask. Why not flirt with one woman in the midst of his courtship of another? He was trying to gain Maria’s favor solely for his own satisfaction, and possibly as yet more proof that she is less worthy than the actual woman he “passionately, as well as rationally, love[s].” The trouble is, that passionate love could not keep Henry from being … Henry. Though he regrets his actions (and his inaction, as he didn’t think to return Maria to her house or turn her away), it’s not clear if he learns to alter his behavior or to check “the freaks of a cold-blooded vanity.”

IN:

Lady Bertram and Susan become quite a pair. Susan resembles Fanny in all but spirit (honestly, Susan is more this novel’s Elizabeth Bennet than anyone else), and that includes being Lady Bertram’s unofficial squire. Lady Bertram gets a surrogate Fanny in Susan, and a surrogate daughter in Fanny.

Julia and Mr. Yates crawl back to Sir Thomas, tails between their legs, and it’s more than he could have hoped for. Mr. Yates throws himself onto Sir Thomas’s mercy by trying to be as humble and malleable as can be reasonably expected. Julia, it turns out, was so freaked out by Maria’s running off that she went and married Mr. Yates out of fear that her father would make her stay in more often. Oh, Julia. To her credit, she doesn’t make any more trouble for her family.

William continues to move up in the navy at what we may deduce to be a reasonable pace. Since there’s no mention of any more outside meddling, I think we can assume also that his additional promotions are due to his hard work and sense of adventure. That’s what I choose to believe, anyway.

Tom gets better. Not just health-wise, but also as a person. Spending several weeks in a position of vulnerability has taught the first-born son a lesson in humility. He demonstrates more responsibility, patience, and respect for his father and for his role as a male heir. It is with sincerity that I add, wow. Thanks, Tom.

Ed gets better, too. Not just mental health-wise, but also as a person okay, I mean, he starts falling hard for Fanny once he gets off the Mary train. The only thing he had to do, I’d argue, is get out of his own way and stop grafting Fanny’s best traits onto Mary’s face and body. Though a time frame isn’t specified (cute, Austen), it appears that Ed carefully considers his knowledge of Fanny and how he can rationally persuade her that they would make a good match. Fanny, of course, doesn’t need all that: just knowing that he thinks it’s a good idea is the greatest gift she never would have expected to get. Oh, and they eventually move into the living previously occupied by the Norrises. The irony fairy has visited us once again!

Sir Thomas repents his bad parenting skills, recognizes how his behavior (though noble and upright) failed to make a positive impression on Tom and the daughters, and generally kicks himself for a while. Once his kids straighten up their acts, his spirit is lifted. He gains an additional son in Mr. Yates and an additional daughter in Fanny, giving him a second chance to be a good dad. He does not take it for granted. He hangs out a lot with Fanny. Aw.

Fanny finally has the family she deserves, with a sister who’s nuts about her, a loyal older brother, a well-bred and lovable father figure, and zero cruel aunts to speak of. Add to that, her favorite person and best friend marries her. She has found security and family after eight years of struggling to find her place in a household that barely bothered to welcome her. She has found love and a sense of belonging, and she got to bring an extra sister into the fold. Now it may be said that she actually does have something to be grateful for.

So now that we know where all the characters end up, are we done?

Well, we could be. But there’s so much that I didn’t get to. Many of these characters deserve much more than a paragraph-length summation. I’m going to take a few days to gather my ideas, see what conclusions I can draw, and do Mansfield Park up proper. Hold on to your bonnets.

Next time: More Mansfield Park.