Pride & Prejudice, ch. 11: Fault Lines
Credit to Tyler Feder, via Sparknotes. |
Caroline Bingley is slipping, y’all.
I mean, she’s pulling out all the stops—paying all kinds of attention to Darcy, not making him play cards with predictable old Mr. Hurst for what has got to be the 30th night in a row, talking up her apparent aversion to dancing of all things. And the narrator really starts to note just how surface-level Caroline’s behavior is, even down to her choice of book in her blatant attempts to catch Darcy’s eye. It’s a very refined meltdown, when you think about it.
Side note: Can we please, as a group, stop taking “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!” out of its delicious ironic context? I know it makes for a nice throw pillow, but I seriously feel like every time that phrase gets printed on a bookmark and is then sold for actual money, Jane Austen’s spirit is laughing at us. Okay, end of thought.
After some back-and-forth with her brother backfires (man, when Bingley can out-quip you … ), Caroline starts to pace in frustration catwalk across the room. But it’s not until she gets the bright idea to ask Elizabeth to join her that Darcy gives his full, undivided attention. He’s curious about the “novelty” of Caroline actually being nice to Lizzy and dances around this curiosity with his answer to Caroline’s teasing invitation. “You either … have secret affairs to discuss,” he muses, “or … you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking.” And you can bet that he doesn’t for a second believe that Caroline has gossip to share with a woman who’s been the target of her trash-talk for the last several days.
Slip, slip, slip …
It gets worse for Caroline (but better for us) when Darcy pushes back on her fawning insistence that Darcy must be taken seriously at all times. Elizabeth, however, goes the opposite way as she sarcastically insists that he is above the “[f]ollies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies” that most people display. Darcy admits that he doesn’t want to give into those “weaknesses” because he doesn’t ever want to be the punchline of a joke. Lizzy, who has already done that to him, if you’ll recall, must contain her laughter when he defines “pride” as being something of a net positive. She points out that, in a speech that began as a display of humility, Darcy ends up defending a theoretical weakness of his—that of pride—as a natural strength. Not exactly the kind of humility that disarms reproof, that.
So, here is where I think a person would normally let the subject drop. Like, here’s this cheeky young woman who’s a bit of a black sheep and she’s teasing you partly because she doesn’t see eye-to-eye with you and partly because it’s a boring evening. She got sorta dragged into this by a Regina wannabe who, incidentally, has a crush on you that’s starting to look embarrassing. Do you a) let this woman think she has the last word while secure in the knowledge that you’ve got nothing to prove, or b) insist that she’s got it all wrong and lay your soul bare for her with abandon?
If you’re Darcy, apparently, you go with option “b.”
Objectively-speaking, he’s not exactly confessing a deep dark weakness here. He’s describing his struggle with forgiving others. He doesn’t even portray it as a struggle—once his “good opinion” has been lost, it’s “lost forever.” His temper appears to be the main issue, but he shows no interest in apologizing for it. Lizzy sarcastically claims that his “propensity to hate everybody” is a dignified fault; Darcy retorts that she’s deliberately misconstruing his words. They only subside when Caroline interrupts.
Darcy is grateful for the interruption, because his infatuation with Lizzy is growing. That’s right: he got into an argument over personality defects, and now he’s developing a crush on the one woman who fights him on everything. A woman who he has previously rejected, remember. Let’s take a moment to soak it all in. Darcy’s attraction to Lizzy, which has taken shape over the last handful of weeks, has surpassed his attraction to Caroline, whom he has known for, and I’ll be conservative here, at least more than one year. The cherry on all of this? He thinks that Lizzy, all arched eyebrows and quick comebacks, is showing interest in him. He doesn’t get it. He likes her, but he doesn’t get her.
Chapter the next: Jane puts her foot down, Darcy’s super secret master plan to avoid encouraging Elizabeth, and we say goodbye to Netherfield.
(I wrote this in a hurry. Please excuse any awkwardnesses.)
ReplyDeleteI also feel irritated when I see “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!” put forward as if it were Jane Austen speaking, but, after all, I am sure it is a sentiment with which she would agree.
By the way, the more I hear Charles Bingley speak the better I like him! I see why Mr. Darcy is his friend. He is everything Mr. D. would like to be.
I agree with your charting of Miss Bingley’s descent in Darcy’s opinion. Up until now she has been capable of rational conversation. In fact, we are specifically told of the sisters that “Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit.” (Fun to be around until you start to wonder what they say about YOU when you are not there.) But once Darcy turns up Miss Bingley talks like a character in a bad novel.
I never could understand why she asked Elizabeth to take that “turn about the room” with her. Did she hope she would appear to advantage beside Elizabeth, the country bumpkin?
I have always thought that Darcy is enjoying her behavior just as much as we do. To me his “You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking,” shows how informal his relationship with the Bingleys really is. Speaking so plainly about admiring their figures implies a relationship in which the remark is not offensive. It is also interesting that he includes Elizabeth in this conversation.
It is interesting to see what began as a casual flirtatious exchange become a true discussion. (I don’t like calling it an argument. That implies a heat that isn’t there.) I think part of Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth is fed by the fact that she is interesting to talk to. (I am not pretending to be the first to notice this!) She is not only attractive in appearance, she is attractive in her conversation. He is not used to this and we are told “He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.”
About the turn about the room. I think partly Caroline will do anything to get Darcy's attention but she probably does think watching she'll look good walking compared to lizzy. She did speak of "manner of walking" as a requirement for an accomplished woman and it was probably taught at her school. Lizzy strikes me as someone who walks for a purpose rather than for display.
DeletePerhaps the narrator's comment about the sisters' power of conversation is ironic? They seem capable only of talking about superficial things ... and are catty with it!
ReplyDeleteI agree. They are people who are fun in casual conversation, but there is no use trying to talk about anything but the surface, because there is nothing underneath. However, the surface is amusing if you take it for what it is and don't expect more.
DeleteI actually LIKE when people take those Jane quotes out of context, because I'm sure she used hypocrites to say exactly what she personally believed. There are so many that bear this out besides the reading one, like Mrs. Elton's saying that she can't live without music, that life would be a "blank to her". We know Jane played and sang a lot and loved to dance, so this is the author putting her own real sentiments in the mouths of her negative characters.
ReplyDelete