Pride & Prejudice, ch. 18: Medley: Shall We Dance?/Bad Blood/Sorry Not Sorry [part 2]

Credit to Alice Pattullo

And now, finally … 

The Darcy Stuff

Darcy’s request for a dance throws Lizzy for a loop. Charlotte advises her to keep her feelings about the Wickham-Darcy drama close to her vest, but of course that’s not how our Lizzy does things. At least, not in this chapter. Get out of here with that polite indifference! Lizzy doesn’t have time for—

Oh, no. This is her mom in her, isn’t it? Lizzy is behaving just like her loudmouth mother. Cf. “What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him?” Now, Lizzy isn’t being a loudmouth in this situation, but she is disregarding Charlotte’s grounded advice in much the same way that Mrs. Bennet ignores her second-oldest daughter’s words of caution. I do think, however, that Lizzy is following her own set of principles while her mom’s reaction reflects her general lack of awareness. But they both act out of pride.

So the dance begins in silence, which is a funny thing to imagine for two fictional characters who are best known for their spirited arguments. Lizzy, presumably either tired of the silence or just miffed in general, tries to goad Darcy (in a polite way, sort of) into coming up with a subject and verb to string into a sentence. He “assure[s] her that whatever she wished him to say should be said,”* which strikes me as weirdly Collins-esque of him. I feel like Darcy and Mr. Collins have a similar problem, expressed inversely: Mr. Collins trips over himself to cram his sentences full of words while Darcy is brief and to the point, but they both result in a lack of sincerity or substance. Lizzy keys in on this (the lack of substance, not the similarity itself) by mocking the idea of “arrang[ing]” a conversation so that no one has to say more than they wish. She and Darcy, she ribs, are both “of an unsocial, taciturn disposition” and such an arrangement would suit them both.

This exchange seems to reinforce the narrator’s earlier statement that Elizabeth has trouble insulting people because she lacks the proper amount of venom. Darcy takes her joking as just that—like a sort of I-know-you-know dynamic that’s developing between the two of them. I think this makes sense with his character and with the perspective he has of Lizzy: they’re both smart and he has no idea that she is legitimately unimpressed with his personality and conduct.

Then Darcy raises the subject of Meryton and she ups the ante by mentioning her new friend Wickham. His response is incredibly restrained if you know the whole story, but Lizzy doesn’t, so she thinks she’s succeeded in shutting Darcy down. Which is pretty easy to do, come to think of it. Hey, why’d you agree to dance with this guy in the first place, Liz?

And then Sir William interrupts to congratulate them on their “very superior dancing” and to drop an anvil-sized hint about Jingley’s wedding. His noting Lizzy’s “upbraiding” expression is one of those small things that gets glossed over even though it’s pretty funny when you think about it. He thinks Lizzy’s giving him stink eye because she wants to continue to charm Darcy when she’s actually annoyed at Sir William for his bad timing. And probably at her own decision to accept Darcy’s offer to dance. 

Wow, this night just isn’t going her way, is it?

Anyway, Darcy’s like where were we and Lizzy’s like, dude, you can’t be serious. Darcy’s question about books reads to me like he’s trying to connect with her (perhaps remembering or mis-remembering her “not a great reader” remark). She all but scoffs in response. Then we get another small but curious exchange when he asks her if “[t]he present always occupies [her] in such scenes [ballrooms],” and she distractedly answers in the affirmative. Austen might have loved Lizzy more than any of her other heroines, but she sure has a lot of fun at her expense.

Then Lizzy comes back at Darcy with a really harsh (though not unfair) question: since he has such high standards when it comes to what he can and cannot forgive, does he consider himself to be “cautious” in his judgment? After all, “[i]t is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion to be secure of judging properly at first.”

She’s saying this to a guy that mentally tortured himself for the better part of a week, if not longer, for not having realized how pretty she actually is in the moment he first saw her. 

You know, in a very specific way, she knows him pretty damn well. She just doesn’t realize how well she knows him since she’s too focused on how well she thinks she knows him, which we know is wrong. Oh my God does that even make sense?

And I think Darcy understands some of this, given his observation that her so-called character sketch “would reflect no credit on either [of them]” in the moment. He knows she’s got Wickham in her thoughts and finds the strength of mind, or maybe of heart, to “pardon” her for her barbs. We’ll return to this idea of who knows who and who has a point despite their own prejudice. Elizabeth the Dispenser of Harsh Truths will be back … 

Soon to come: The first proposal is about to take place. But is it the worst? An amateur literary sleuth investigates.

*And he smiles here, bringing the total of Darcy smiles to … 3, I think?