Pride & Prejudice, ch. 53: Meet The New Neighbors, Same As The Old Neighbors

Another great illustration courtesy of Amanda Enright.

Guess what? We’re done with Lydia and Wickham. Finally, the national nightmare is over. As a sort-of bonus, the narrator mentions that Wickham will “never again [distress] himself” by bringing up his past. Well, he certainly deserves a pat on the back, doesn’t he? And thus, the world’s most cringey couple—self-absorbed, selfish, and entirely without substance—trot off to Mar-A-Lago Newcastle, never to be seen again. I love January.

Even better, as quickly as they leave, Meryton receives the news that Mr. Bingley is moving back to Netherfield. Mrs. Bennet and Aunt Pittypat are obsessed with every detail of the move, provided by the housekeeper (and to think that servants didn’t even get paid to gossip … ). Jane, however, is agitated by the news: she knows that all eyes will be on her and Bingley and “dread[s] other people’s remarks” on their previous courtship. She doesn’t expect Jingley version 2.0 to happen, but Lizzy is less certain. Lizzy, you see, remembers very well that Bingley seemed to miss Jane while in Derbyshire. Now she wonders if he’s coming down with or without Darcy’s “permission.” 

Mrs. Bennet pesters Mr. Bennet to visit Bingley again, and I have to say, I really dislike Pa Bennet here. The only reason his wife has to pester him is because if left to his own devices, he wouldn’t do it on his own. Even though he recognizes it as common courtesy, literally calling the practice “an etiquette,” he refuses to do so because … it’s not his style. He’s not like other fathers, you see. Never mind that it’s expected of him and every other gentleman in the neighborhood, never mind that he proves that he knows better—he’s going to find any excuse to avoid being social for ten damn minutes with the nicest man in the region because he’s committed to being a crotchety old guy.

You know, Mr. Bennet, your youngest daughter almost became a sex worker partly due to your neglect and carelessness. Just saying.

This has the added effect of working Mrs. Bennet into a frenzy trying to overcompensate, which dominoes into Jane becoming all the more agitated. At this point, you can’t just blame Mrs. Bennet for making the family so dysfunctional.

A few days later, Bingley visits them … accompanied by Darcy. So there’s your answer, Lizzy! She and Jane are in a private world of agony, though it’s important to remember that Jane only knows Darcy as that guy who rudely asked her sister to marry him, not as the lovely gentleman who tried to prove his worth during summer vacation and then sprinted to London to save Lydia. Lizzy believes that what she feels for Darcy is comparable to what Jane feels for Bingley, and for a minute she gets so excited that “a smile of delight add[s] luster to her eyes” (a small detail that occasionally gets overlooked).

But since she’s still unsure about why Darcy is here, she ends up playing it a bit too cool, only looking at him once to try to ascertain his emotional state. “He looked serious, as usual; and … more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at Pemberley,” though she has to admit that his switch in attitude is probably because he’s dealing with her nitwit mother instead of her more agreeable aunt and uncle. She notices also that Darcy hardly makes a sound and seems to be eyeing Jane rather than herself. He and Lizzy have two brief exchanges about the Gardiners and his sister—so brief that he doesn’t appear to answer her. She longs to talk to him, but can’t do so in present company.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet, in her ongoing effort to flatter Bingley into oblivion, succeeds only in embarrassing Bingley and scorning Darcy. First, she directs all of her comments and niceties to Bingley and Bingley only. Then she mentions that Charlotte and Lydia are married now, which not only would be news that he’s likely already heard, but also seems like she’s subtly hinting that the single woman market is shrinking and that he better get a move on. But that might just be me. Annoyingly, she goes into unnecessary detail about Lydia’s wedding announcement, highlighting her own ignorance to the circumstances of their marriage. Even worse, she gets in a subtle (for her) dig at Darcy for Wickham’s financial troubles. Yikes!

When Mrs. Bennet tacks on an invitation for Bingley to shoot birds on the Bennets’ property, Lizzy is triggered. Now, to my modern ears, this doesn’t sound like that big a deal, but no—this is the point where Lizzy feels “that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful confusion.” Apparently, Mrs. Bennet is just going a step too far in her sucking up. 

But near the end of the visit, Lizzy realizes that there’s quite a glow to Jane. Although she can’t meet Darcy’s eye (it seems to be mutual), she has been scoping out Bingley, and every time Bingley looks at Jane, it’s like the sun shining down on the petals of a flower. Jane, unfortunately, isn’t quite at her best yet, as she doesn’t realize that her reticence has blocked her from speaking up in front of him. The narrator tells us that Jane has been “not quite so chatty” as usual with him, which actually implies that normally she finds it easy to talk to him, or at least when he’s around. Considering that the number of times in the book they address one another in dialogue is roughly zero, it’s nice to know that under better circumstances, Jane can be more communicative.

Mrs. Bennet manages to look the fool again when she reminds Bingley of a promise he made a year ago to have dinner with them, but at this point he (and Darcy) have already accepted an invitation to dine with them, so they’re locked in. So I guess the lesson here is, not even embarrassing parents can stop true love. All they can do is delay it for awhile.

Soon to come: Lizzy gently teases Jane about the inevitable as Darcy keeps his distance from her.