Pride & Prejudice, ch. 6: Block Party

In Austen’s time, there’s no society without neighbors (in your own class, that is—farmers and servants don’t count). Even if they’re the most artificial people in the world, you put on a smile and trade niceties. On the social butterfly scale of “Bingley” to “Darcy,” Lizzy lands closer to the “Bingley” end … unless she’s dealing with a couple of snotty sisters. And even then, she’ll keep her mouth shut.

I never really noticed this except in an off-hand way, but Lizzy does not go out of her way to trash the Bingley sisters. She kind of just rolls her eyes and thinks instead about how much Bingley is into Jane. Also, she judges the women by their manners and behavior rather than their appearance. Not only does this make Lizzy that much more appealing, but it also makes it easy to trust her. When she tosses off, “If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to discover it too,” it sounds so logical. So easy.

But Charlotte makes a good point, too: “We can all begin freely … but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement.” As I examined the battle plan she lays down for Jane “securing” Bingley, a really depressing thought occurred to me: has Charlotte learned all this the hard way? Let’s look at the facts: she is a single woman on the wrong side of 25. How did she end up that way? How many times did she hope to be courted by some single man in possession of any fortune, even a small one, only to lose his interest because she failed to “help him on”? Advice like this doesn’t just come out of nowhere. It must have been shaped by past missed opportunities.

Oh, no. My sweet Charlotte …

However, I also agree with Lizzy’s rejoinder that Jane shouldn’t have to feel pressured to “secure” Bingley if she doesn’t yet know whether she wants him (Jane “is not acting by design”). I love this point. Lizzy is defending her sister’s autonomy and right to court/marry someone she loves. But this also means that she can’t (won’t?) concede Charlotte’s overall point about the harsh reality of the situation: Single women can’t always afford to marry for love. Lizzy’s line of “You make me laugh, Charlotte” is heartbreaking—not just because it’s an ironic foreshadowing, but also because it shows her confidence that her friend’s set of values about love and marriage mirror her own. If Lizzy can’t tell that Charlotte is being dead serious, then I gotta ask … how well does she really know Charlotte?

Speaking of people getting to know people (brilliant segue), Darcy has been checking Lizzy out for the past couple of weeks. At first “he made it clear to himself and to his friends that [Elizabeth] had hardly a good feature in her face,” meaning that he’s sharing his thoughts about Lizzy’s looks with Bingley and his sisters. Quick question: To what end? Is he just like, nah, she’s not my type, or is he detailing every beauty fail he can see? And then, just as I’m getting really steamed at his cattiness, he’s all about her “uncommonly intelligent,” “beautiful,” “dark” eyes. And it’s like … I’m swooning. The first positive thing he notices about Lizzy is how smart she looks. And then, I realize that this guy has been staring at her for a while. Looking and looking even before he starts to think that she’s attractive. He’s “forced to acknowledge” that she’s got the goods (if I may be slightly crude). Second quick question: Who’s forcing you, bro? On one hand, it’s low-key obvious that his standards are so strict that he has to admit where Lizzy actually does meet them. On the other …

Okay, so, my well-loved copy of the David Shapard version of P&P has a thoughtful annotation at this point about Darcy’s “scrupulousness.”* I don’t want to toss aside his interpretation, but I’d like to submit that at least some of Darcy’s zig-zagging judgment is motivated by sexual attraction. I don’t mean to rewrite this as a story of sexual awakening, or to be crass in general (TBH, I don’t love hearing even the lovely Claudia I. Johnson talking about the “fantastic sex” that two fictional characters are going to have), but I do think it’s a cool aspect of the novel. How much of any given attraction is based on sex? Can sexual attraction be based on something other than physical characteristics? I think Darcy might be asking these questions for the first time in his life.

Anyway, Darcy decides to listen in silently as Lizzy talks to someone else “as a step towards conversing with her himself.” Which has a certain logic to it, as plans go, but putting it into action is another story. Lizzy’s all, he better not think I’m just going to let that go. Charlotte, world’s best wing-woman, goads Lizzy into confronting him. Before the conversation can get awkward, Charlotte swoops in to make Lizzy play a song. This attracts middle sister (sigh) Mary, who fancies herself a prodigy, and who gets flattered into playing some dance numbers. And as soon as everybody starts dancing, Darcy goes into severe disapproval mode and attempts to resist Sir William’s efforts at, you know, being a host. Darcy refers to dancing as “a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it,” which doesn’t quite track with his having danced with Bingley’s sisters at the Meryton ball—and he does a full 180 once Lizzy walks by.

Here is another example of Lizzy being cool: She does the classy thing, saying that she doesn’t want to dance at all; appears to not engage directly with Darcy; and at the end gives the guy a look before walking away. The verbal sparring that these two are known for really doesn’t kick in until a few chapters later, where Lizzy is more or less stuck with Darcy in the same room and Darcy appears more comfortable with himself. For now, she’d just as soon ignore him.

Miss Bingley swoops down on Darcy to complain about “the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people,” a descriptor that could apply to several characters, including herself. Darcy mentions Lizzy’s “fine eyes,” which inspires Miss Bingley to exercise her sarcasm. Darcy’s response that he “expected” her long-winded joke is very telling: Miss Bingley cannot surprise or challenge him. He isn’t trying to provoke her or give her a reason to be jealous. Like with Sir William, he’s going to be honest no matter what. Even if his opinion changes.

Soon to chapter: The two youngest Bennet girls obsess over a regiment of soldiers, Miss Bingley invites Jane to tea, and Lizzy gets some exercise.

*Exact quote: “[Darcy] is very concerned with arriving at the correct verdict, which makes him undertake a thorough examination of a given subject and feel mortified if he finds that his initial judgment has erred.” Again, strong analysis. I’m just suggesting that Darcy is embarrassed for an additional reason.