Pride & Prejudice, ch. 30: They Were Just In The Neighborhood

First order of business: I will address the feedback several of you have given about my hypothesis concerning Lady Catherine and her socioeconomic background. I was reminded that L.C. is the daughter of an earl and therefore comes of noble stock, which I admit puts a large damper on the point I was attempting to make about her demonstrating nouveau riche behavior (that it turns her into even more of a hypocrite). On reflection, I was wrong to take my analysis in this direction. I was over-complicating things. Because really, I don’t need to find additional reasons to dislike L.C. 

And dispensing with this interpretation makes her character much more interesting. Her pedigree is thrown not into question, but into a harsher light: She chooses to behave rudely because she can get away with it. Her impressive background almost literally lets her lord over people. I still think there’s a larger conversation to be had about the concept of nobility and the way it messes with people’s heads (then and now). I also think there’s room to address this in discussions about Austen and her novels. But I won’t get into it now. You’re all just waiting for me to get to the Darcy stuff.

The actual order of business:

Life at the Parsonage settles down once Sir William leaves. Mr. Collins is more attentive to the volume of carriages that pass by and the importance of walking to Rosings than to his wife or guests, but this is by Charlotte’s design. She appears to use a non-parlor-sized room for the actual parlor, which subconsciously keeps Mr. Collins away from it. I can only imagine the grief Lady Catherine gave her for doing this, seeing as the “great lady” concerns herself with every boring detail of Charlotte’s housekeeping. If there’s anyone here who can hold her own against eagle-eye busybodies, it’s Charlotte.

L.C.’s habit of forcing her life-coaching skills onto the “quarrelsome, discontented or too poor” population marks her as unique among the wealthy characters Austen writes about. I’m torn between two interpretations, myself: 1) that Lady Catherine gets a kick out of controlling others or 2) that she has nothing else to do but poke her head into other people’s business. Her actions later in the novel point to the first interpretation, but let’s keep the second one in mind as well. Anne d.B.’s constant stops outside of the Parsonage to chat with Charlotte point to a similar emptiness in her own life. Why else would the single daughter of the neighborhood’s leading matriarch—an heiress to boot—spend time socializing with the clergyman’s new wife? Her disinclination to go inside the Parsonage is evidence either that she has some class bias or that she really is just that weak and sickly. Either way, she doesn’t seem to want to get too close.

But Lizzy is able to hold Lady Catherine at bay and enjoy her time with Charlotte (and without, thanks to some long self-guided nature walks). Having Charlotte for a companion again (the whole chapter is like, Maria who?) seems to push Lizzy’s bittersweet feelings away. Maybe seeing that Charlotte hasn’t let marriage change her is reassuring to Lizzy? Or maybe she has a touch more respect for her no-nonsense friend who has to put up with a clueless, butt-kissing husband and Her Grand Poo-bah Hermione Gringold Lady Catherine for a neighbor. I’m sure as hell impressed.

The air buzzes with excitement, however, when the news spread that Mr. Darcy and his cousin are to arrive at Rosings. Lizzy learned about this a week or so previously, and seems to be the only one not caught in the stir it creates. Lady Catherine “seem[s] almost angry” that Lizzy has already met Darcy, who, incidentally, is her favorite nephew—an opinion that probably endears Lizzy even less to L.C. than before.

Mr. Collins arrives at the Parsonage with the guests in tow, surprise surprise, and Lizzy meets Colonel Fitzwilliam, “in person and address most truly the gentleman,” who does most of the talking. Darcy more or less sulks in the background. I don’t necessarily blame him in this situation: his host is a fawning idiot and his cousin is aiming his charisma squarely at Elizabeth, the one person Darcy is there to see, though how much Darcy planned to interact with her is up for debate. Lizzy eventually lobs a question at him regarding Jane and London, thinking she knows the answer and therefore rendering this question merely performative. I feel like she gets a little thrill out of this—like she’s only doing it out of obligation, for the look of the thing. She appears to assign this characterization to Darcy, and maybe this is her way of throwing it back in his face? I may be reading too much into this little moment (it serves a greater purpose, planting a clue that Darcy knew that Jane was in London), but it reveals how the cogs turn in Lizzy’s mind.

Next up: Lizzy and Colonel Fitz flirt, Lady Catherine butts in, and Darcy admits that Lizzy is right about something.