Pride & Prejudice, ch. 38: Good Night And Good Luck

Mr. Collins hasn’t been the focus of these Hunsford chapters and in fact has had little influence on the plot in general. Lizzy was always going to turn him down, his behavior was always going to reflect poorly on the Bennets (one can imagine a draft of Darcy’s letter that included an example of his horrible manners at the Netherfield ball), and he was never going to become a more respectable or likable match for Charlotte. In the end, it’s Charlotte’s decision to marry him that gets Lizzy out to Hunsford, not the mere fact that Mr. Collins lives there. He seems to work best as part of Austen’s critiques on courtship, marriage options for women, and pride without substance.

And yet, he is quite human in this chapter, as he attempts to give Lizzy a proper goodbye while still being as odious as ever. He starts with fake humility: “Our plain manner of living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like yourself.” Notice, also, that he speaks only of the supposed gratitude he and Charlotte feel from having Lizzy as a guest; it’s Lizzy herself who has to add that she actually had a good time (it helped that she didn’t spend much of it with him). 

Mr. Collins then makes an abrupt U-turn as he dwells on their “connections with Rosings,” as he considers “[their] situation with regard to Lady Catherine's family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast.” And boast he does. He has shown a pattern of trying to have it both ways. He’s a humble clergyman, but in a way that puts him on par with nobility; he’s aware that he’s an eligible bachelor, but such a position also makes him a potential victim; his lodgings and income are modest, but his relationship with the de Bourghs makes him special and important. Then his humanity slips out through his façade of manners, as he implies that Lizzy ought to regret turning down his proposal before stopping himself in mid-sentence. “[O]n this point it will be as well to be silent,” he intones, after he has expressed his true feelings. Note the lack of apology here—and considering that he, as host, has just said something that might have made his guest uncomfortable, an apology wouldn’t be out of line. Funny how his theatrical manners fail him here.

Then he doubles down on his feelings about his marriage, claiming that he and Charlotte “seem to have been designed for each other,” which is such a load of tosh that readers rightfully dismiss it as delusional. Most interpret his claim as proof that Charlotte is running him just as smoothly as she runs the household, which is supported by previous dialogue exchanges where Mr. Collins agrees with Charlotte. Certainly, their independent schedules don’t allow them enough time to disagree on anything. Adaptations of Pride & Prejudice do not always echo this, though. The 1995 miniseries has Charlotte suggesting that she could “brave old Lady Catherine’s displeasure” and stay at home with Lizzy, while the 2005 film has Charlotte taking on her husband’s reverence for the de Bourghs.* There is also a need, especially in modern adaptations, to soften Mr. Collins’s character—make him more relateably awkward—largely so that a modern Charlotte’s decision to marry/go off with him appears less bizarre. In Bride & Prejudice, he’s a loving (if ridiculous) husband; in The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, he’s more overly eager than outright rude.

What I’m saying is, I think we need to remember this Charlotte and her particular story. This Charlotte wouldn’t dismiss “old Lady Catherine” in front of her husband. Nor would she get swept up in Mr. Collins’s de Bourgh obsession. She doesn’t fall in love with Mr. Collins and she doesn’t grow to respect him. She makes do with a loveless marriage because she’s smart, unromantic, and practical. Because in this society, marriage gives women more freedom than love or romance. Forget that, and we forget the sharper points of this satire.

In any case, book-Lizzy’s sympathy is entirely with her friend, but this time her pity for Charlotte is tempered. After all, “she had chosen [to marry Mr. Collins] with her eyes open; and though evidently regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion.” I also like this line, as Lizzy appears to be reconciling her earlier disheartened feelings with the fact that Charlotte has embraced her role as wife. Charlotte doesn’t need anybody’s pity to get by … though Lizzy thinks that her “home and housekeeping” will one day lose their “charms.” On the flip-side, I’m sure that the “charm” of not having to worry about your financial future lasts an entire lifetime.

At last, Lizzy and Maria set off for London. Sweet, simple Maria is super excited about how they “dined nine times at Rosings” and … that’s it. Lizzy thinks about “how much [she] shall have to conceal.” Even after meeting up with Jane again, Lizzy is having a hard time of judging how much of Darcy’s letter to reveal to her. She’s bursting to tell her because she wants to see Jane expressing the same shock that she felt during Darcy’s proposal (and she still feels rather flattered about the whole thing, especially since his letter has softened her view of him). But she’s afraid “if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into repeating something of Bingley which might only grieve her sister farther.” See, if Darcy’s claim of badgering Bingley into booking it to London is true, then Bingley isn’t as rude or thoughtless as Lizzy previously supposed. And the restoration of Bingley’s reputation won’t be very comforting for either sister.

Soon to come: The Bennet sisters leave for Longbourn, Lydia takes center stage, and we get an update on Wickham.

*(Spoilers for Pride & Prejudice & Zombies) And no, I’m not sure what Zombie Charlotte is supposed to be a metaphor for, and I kind of hate the implication that only a close-to-brain-dead woman would choose to marry Mr. Collins, since Charlotte is actually smart and practical. Come to think of it, close-to-brain-dead people would probably find it offensive as well.