Pride & Prejudice, ch. 52: True Colors

There’s a lot to take in with Aunt G’s response to Lizzy’s inquiry, so I’m going to go through this a little differently to make sure I don’t miss anything. So let’s take things character by character for … 

The Letter

Mrs. Gardiner: Our favorite aunt drops this bomb almost right away: “[N]othing but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed him to act as he has done.” What? You mean … a distinct lack of communication between the principles actually helped in this situation? I am flabbergasted. This “belief” Aunt G speaks of seems to still hold strong, as she later references visiting the mysterious “P.” and outright confesses that she likes Darcy even more now than she did during their Lambton vacay. Hint hint, Lizzy. She also agrees with me (well, how do you like that?) in saying that “I doubt whether his reserve, or anybody's reserve, can be answerable for the event”—in other words, that though Darcy blames himself for allowing Wickham to be “received and noticed” in polite society, ultimately no one is responsible for Wickham’s conduct except Wickham himself.

Mr. Gardiner: He dislikes that he “was forced to put up with only having the probable credit of [saving Lydia]” and is quite happy to be able to admit to Lizzy that his only role in the whole thing was to work alongside Darcy. Another point in the Gentleman column for Uncle G.

Wickham: This absolute waste of space reveals that he was running away from Brighton to escape some gambling debts (ah, the days before social security numbers, smartphones, and government-approved wiretapping) and then has the gall to insist that Lydia invited herself along. He had no intention of marrying her, and would have likely left her in the dust had Darcy not tracked him down (thanks to another scumbag, Georgiana’s ex-governess). I feel as though those who feel that Wickham is a weak villain—while you are free to do so—miss the point that he is a weak villain. As in, his weakness is the point of him, and is meant to be contrasted with Darcy’s integrity and determination to do the right thing. So, yes, it feels like his petty behavior and disregard for others shouldn’t have this horrible, disproportionate effect on others—he came ascloseasthis to ruining the lives of two young women and destroying the reputation of one of their families. But the narrative of Pride & Prejudice forces us to think why and how Wickham’s reactionary behavior has such an effect in this society.

Lydia: When Darcy first saw her, she refused to leave Wickham, still under the impression that this is just how the engagement period … works? It’s because of her insistence that Darcy made it possible for the marriage to take place, as simply leaving her to be abandoned by Wickham was never an option. She refused to listen to Aunt G as she tried to “[represent] to her all the wickedness of what she had done, and all the unhappiness she had brought on her family,” which tracks with her whining in the previous chapter. This emphasizes the extent of Lydia’s willful ignorance and general disregard for others. 

Darcy: Oh-ho-ho man, where do I begin? First he comes to the Gardiners as soon as he meets with Wickham and Lydia, then he admits that the whole thing is essentially his fault because he refused “to lay his private actions open to the world” when Wickham tried to run off with his sister. Noticeably, he avoids meeting Mr. Bennet. As a result, he argues with Uncle G that he, Darcy, should be the one to take care of everything—which includes a gunshot wedding (with no gun) and paying off Wickham’s debts and purchasing a commission for the guy. The total cost seems to be roughly £2,400, which is a quarter of what Mr. Bennet had estimated—not a great fortune and certainly not a hindrance to a man like Darcy, but definitely £2,400 more than Wickham is worth. Because of this insistence, Aunt G muses that “obstinacy is the real defect of his character” rather than pride, arrogance, or vanity. One other note on his character? “[H]e wants nothing but a little more liveliness,” which he could learn if chooses the right wife. Hint.


Wickham in the flesh

Naturally, Lizzy is shocked and initially quite happy. Her biggest hope—“he had done it for her”—has proven to be true. Darcy, who she has insisted (to herself) to be unbendingly vain, has indeed humbled himself in bribing his nemesis to marry Lydia for Lizzy’s sake and to make amends for his previous mistake in not revealing Wickham’s lack of character. But just as quickly, she checks herself: Darcy might have done all this out of love and a sense of responsibility, but he’s not rushing over to sweep Lizzy off her feet if it’d mean being “brother-in-law of Wickham.” Even so, the revelation moves her to “grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him.” She’s even “pleased” that Aunt and Uncle G assumed that there was an understanding between her and Darcy.

And get this: “she was proud of him.” Why, hark! Is that the fluttering of a pair of wings I hear? The irony fairy has again favored us with its presence.

Lizzy’s peace is invaded by Wickham. She subtly tries to get away from him, but it doesn’t take, and he starts pestering her about Pemberley. He does his usual thing of starting with the innocent-sounding questions and observations, and at first it’s hard to get a bead on his angle, as he spends a lot of time emphasizing his new connection to Lizzy as a brother. At first I kept reading it as having nefarious implications, but I think that’s giving Wickham too much credit. I believe he reinforces their connection as a way to assure himself that she is on his side; consequently, his coy inquiries would appear to be attempts to get Lizzy to rag on Darcy. Although in order for this interpretation to track, he would have had to have forgotten her previously taunting him with her tacit approval of Darcy.

As Wickham tries to probe Lizzy’s true feelings, she walks a careful line, cautious of “provok[ing] him” but determined to shut down any expectation of intimacy he may possess. Hitting a brick wall, Wickham brings up the living he “ought to have had.” Lizzy chooses to challenge him on his professed desire for a quiet life of “making sermons” (insert snort of derisive laughter here) and tells him that a little birdie told her that “[he] actually declared [his] resolution of never taking orders.” Wickham then claims that he was the person who told her that, and this bugged me for years because I kept going back to the chapter to find the dialogue … and then I finally realized that he’s lying through his teeth because he desperately wants to avoid facing the fact that Lizzy got the real story from Darcy. So he tries to gaslight her, she issues a cordial goodbye, he awkwardly kisses her hand (yikes), and … that’s the last time we hear from Wickham.

There’s more to say about our favorite s.o.b., but I’ll save it for later (oh, like there wasn’t going to be a wrap-up at the end of this thing). 

Next chapter: Lydia and Wickham leave … to make room for two characters who are due for a return (and I ain’t talking about the Collinses).

Comments

  1. Wickham is definitely manipulating and gaslighting. He did say something to Elizabeth about the bestowal of the living: "There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence—in short anything or nothing." He actually told her the truth, but in such a way that she would totally blame Darcy. Now he latches on to that to claim that he told her about it. Skunk! Phew!

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