Pride & Prejudice, ch. 15: One Boy, Two Boy, Red Boy, Blue Boy

So … I don’t know if “harsh” is the right word, but last week I was a bit emphatic about my dislike of Mr. Collins. I think part of it comes from the disconnect I see between the role he plays in P&P (comic and absurd) and the damage he leaves in his path. When I say damage, I mean the little things—his entitlement and perceived superiority lead to him getting kind of nasty in future chapters. It’s a similar nastiness I associate with Mrs. Norris, though not to the same degree. That said, I’m more inclined to see Mr. Collins as a character than as a human, and I don’t know if that’s a restriction or a liberation as far as literary interpretation goes. (Remember how hard I related to Charlotte Lucas? Totally different reaction. Also a fictional character.)

Fortunately, Austen has provided us with some backstory on Mr. Collins that sheds some light on his current state of mind and/or the lack of development of said mind. Once he got out of the shadow of his miserly father (due to dad’s death, so no love lost there, I guess), his ego started to inflate big-time. Lady Catherine’s attention and service to him (and it really is a service, giving a living to a young clergyman like that) accelerated his sense of pride. We also now know that Mr. Collins came to Longbourn with the intent of marrying one of the Bennet girls, and that he regards this “plan” as “excessively generous and disinterested on his own part.” Which makes sense … except that it can also be viewed as Mr. Collins trying to find a pool of potential wives in the easiest way possible. I wouldn’t fault him for that, necessarily, but if he truly thinks he’s being “disinterested,” then he’s lying to himself.

Side note: this is at least the second time in the novel that it’s stated that the Bennet girls’ beauty is so renown that they have a reputation. This is something I’ve often taken for granted while reading this book, but I’m trying to focus on it through this re-read.

In fact, these girls are so gorgeous that when Mrs. Bennet steers the eager Mr. Collins away from Jane (and coincidentally, toward Elizabeth), Mr. Collins has no compunctions. Because his cousins are that interchangeable to him. Yeah, this is kind of why he makes me want to rant. (Mrs. Bennet, to be fair, is also guilty of treating her daughters like this, but in a more passive way. Not a good parenting moment, but not the worst either—after all, no one’s rejected the guy. Yet.)

Mr. Bennet sees an opportunity to rid himself of Mr. Collins by encouraging him to walk to Meryton with the Bennet girls. Mr. Bennet’s rule that he only “meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the house” except the library does not, in fact, irk me. I get that need for a sanctuary from the stupidheads of the world, be it Mr. Collins or someone less annoying. It also helps that Mr. Bennet isn’t just trying to hide from his wife and daughters, but stupidity in general. (And he says this to Elizabeth—a quick but funny bonding moment.)

Once in Meryton, things start happening like no one’s business. Lydia and Kitty’s favorite soldier introduces the sisters (and the suddenly down-and-out Mr. Collins) to Mr. Wickham, a handsome and polite soldier-to-be whose “happy readiness of conversation” is “perfectly correct and unassuming.” This puts him in stark contrast with Mr. Collins, whose conversation is rarely correct and usually assumes a lot. Both men, in turn, are momentarily sidelined when Darcy and Bingley come riding up. Man, everything happens in this town! You can’t lift your petticoat off the muddy road without meeting an eligible bachelor.

Hilariously, Darcy’s first order of business is to ignore Lizzy, but then our eagle-eyed Regency gal catches sight of him and Mr. Wickham in the middle of an awkward stare-down: “one looked white, the other red.” Lizzy is immediately intrigued by this speechless exchange. One could imagine that she first sees Wickham’s expression and then follows his gaze to Darcy’s face … could it possibly be the other way around? I honestly don’t know.

Anyway. Mystery!

Lydia and Kitty try to invite Mr. Wickham and their friend Denny to their uncle and aunt’s house, and the aunt herself appears at the window to repeat the invitation, but the guys decline. Mrs. Philips’ behavior is supposed to be crude and silly, but I find it 100% adorable. She’s impressed with Mr. Collins, now the only young man in the crowd, for his humble presumption that he can visit her without a proper introduction first. Oy vey, these rules. Mrs. Philips promises to have a get-together that both the Bennets and Mr. Wickham are invited so that they can mingle. Again, this is … I don’t know, crass? An obvious ploy? But it’s also an aunt looking out for her single nieces. Honestly, I like her more than Ma Bennet right now. Mr. Collins compares her manners to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, which is overdoing it. Unless Lady Catherine usually shouts random invitations to handsome single men outside her house and oh my God the image I have in my mind right now …

Meanwhile, Gumshoe Lizzy is on the case of Mr. Wickham and the flushed faces. Tune in next time! 

Next time: Mr. Collins the party guest (ooph), Mr. Wickham’s backstory, and a coincidental but no less interesting family connection.