Pride & Prejudice, ch. 33: The Second Act Twist

I like how the blurb about "BOY-CRAZY SISTERS" is
formatted behind Lizzy. She's literally ignoring the issue.
Credit to Hugo Petrus

This is the chapter where the line between Elizabeth Bennet’s financial pragmatism and Mary Crawford’s materialism blurs. And obviously there’s a big reveal at the end that sets up the big confrontation coming up, yada yada, but getting Lizzy’s perspective on wealth and marrying for money brings out her slightly calculating side. What I’m trying to say is that for a novel that has given us the template for the modern romance story, actual romance is pretty thin on the ground. So far, anyway.

Okay, there is one big difference between Lizzy and sophisticated city girl Mary: if Mary was being awkwardly pursued by a rich, handsome man who kept low-key running into her on her favorite nature walk, she would know exactly what was up. Lizzy, however, is utterly clueless about Darcy’s true motivations. Part of this is due to her dislike, but let’s not forget that this is a guy who has given her the distinct impression that he only concerns himself with people of high rank and wealth, which would theoretically cross her off his list as a potential wife. Darcy has been hot-and-cold with her ever since the first night they met, so I think it’s understandable that Lizzy genuinely doesn’t understand his motives. And Darcy’s inconsistent behavior toward Lizzy sounds kind of unattractive (I don't think us Austenites admit that often enough). At this point, Darcy hasn’t committed to either fully pursuing her or keeping her at arm’s length. They’re both confused, though their confusion is easier to contextualize after one or two re-reads. 

Lizzy is far more acute when she’s dealing with the far more expressive Col. Fitzwilliam, picking up exactly what he’s laying down during their “younger sons cannot marry where they like” conversation. She keeps framing his marriage options in terms of money, noting that those sons “very often” fall for “women of fortune.” His explanation is that he must spend money to keep up appearances even though, as the second son, he is literally not entitled to the amount of money he would need to do so.* Lizzy jokes that “[u]nless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds,” a hope that Mary Crawford (in her own character reveal) takes to heart. But Lizzy is not brokenhearted by Col. Fitzwilliam’s gentle deflection. Instead, she chooses this moment to wonder aloud when Darcy is going to settle down and get married. 

You know, even when Darcy’s not around, it’s rather easy for an onlooker to assume that Lizzy is interested in him romantically.

The topic turns to Miss Darcy, who Col. Fitzwilliam shares guardianship over. No doubt Lizzy has Wickham’s vague description of her in mind when she suggests that Miss Darcy must “like to have her own way.” Col. Fitzwilliam’s hesitation confirms to Lizzy that Wickham is right (grrr … ). It seems like she’s angling for information on how Darcy’s sister feels about Bingley and vice versa. And then we get to the Reveal: Col. Fitzwilliam shares that Darcy “saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage,” and he is sure that that friend is Bingley, who is naive enough to be “the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort.”

… And I just realized that Fitzwilliam managed to insult Jane, the Bennet family, and Bingley all in one go. Does it run in the family?

Tellingly, Lizzy refers to this as an “interference,” a label with which the good colonel appears to agree. (Now, class, can we name an older female relative of Darcy’s who also very much likes to interfere, and who has also recently pissed Lizzy off?)

She admits that she can’t see a reason as to “why, upon his own judgment alone, [Mr. Darcy] was to determine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy,” but pretends that she doesn’t know the details and therefore should not pass judgment herself. But after parting ways with the colonel, she allows herself to do just that, putting the blame squarely on Darcy and “his pride and caprice” (note that she connects the idea of pride with a negative trait). She decides that since Jane is “all loveliness and goodness,” the reasons must be that Darcy’s “pride … would receive a deeper wound from the want of importance in his friend's connections” and that Darcy wants to reserve Bingley for his sister. After all, there’s nothing objectionable about her father (who has more “respectability” than Darcy because he lacks the latter’s apparent malice), and her mother’s lower position is a minor offense at best. It must all be Darcy’s fault.

These thoughts, however, are not consoling, and poor Lizzy is so distraught (with a headache to boot!) that she sits out the tea engagement at Rosings. Probably for the best. Can you imagine how she would react if she saw Darcy right now? Oh, boy. Good thing she stays behind …

Oh, wait. We don’t have to imagine that, do we?

Next chapter: You already know.

*This expectation of living expensively/beyond one’s means is explored in greater detail in Shapard’s (yes, it’s that man again) annotated edition of Sense and Sensibility, especially in regard to Willoughby’s character motivation.