Northanger Abbey, chapter 11: Cloudy With A Chance Of Disappointment

Okay, so there are to my reckoning 3—count ‘em, three—points in this novel that elicit a true, anxiety-ridden cringe. And my friends, this is #1.

Cat fears that the rain will keep the Tilneys away for the day, delaying the promised outing. And who should turn up like a bad penny but John Thorpe (more like an evil brass farthing, amiright) followed by his sister and James. Their mission: to persuade Cat to come with them on a day trip to visit Blaize Castle just outside of Bath. But Cat hesitates—she’d rather keep her promise to meet Eleanor and Henry now that the clouds have parted. What’s a girl to do?

Well, John knows what to do: assert that he just saw the Tilneys driving down the street in the opposite direction. Isabella confirms this. And like a naive young heroine, Cat has too much faith in them to question any of this. Red flag the first: John claims Henry was driving a phaeton—since Catherine doesn’t know what Henry drives, she cannot corroborate this. Red flag the second: Isabella exploits Cat’s love for old castles and the gothic atmosphere of Udolpho. Cat actually avoids looking at her friend, “fearful of Isabella’s smile” (red flag the third). 

Mrs. Allen is prodded into giving her consent and off they go. Cat is disappointed that the Tilneys are so impolite as to not contact her about their apparent change in plans and ruminates on “broken promises and broken arches, phaetons and false hangings, Tilneys and trap–doors” (one of the few examples of alliteration in an Austen novel). Before she can get too comfortable, John Thorpe essentially tattles on himself by calling attention to a pair of pedestrians who are giving Cat the stink-eye. On seeing Eleanor Tilney with her brother Henry, Cat immediately begs John to stop the carriage. But since this is John Thorpe, he laughs in her face and speeds up. To her credit, Cat absolutely reads him the riot act, including the incredible line: “I had rather, ten thousand times rather, get out now, and walk back to them” (rather than ride with you, is the subtext). Maybe this is what goads John into insisting that he had seen Henry Tilney riding out in a phaeton, which means he can’t possibly be in the wrong. 

I don’t make a habit of swearing on this blog. But I have to call it like I see it, and what I see is John Thorpe being a punk-ass bitch.

Catherine becomes the world’s most dour riding companion. “[R]ather than be thought ill of by the Tilneys, she would willingly have given up all the happiness which [Blaize Castle] could supply”—a noble thought that would be more noble if she weren’t also imagining all the spooky surprises an old castle can hold, such as “lofty rooms,” “the remains of magnificent furniture, getting “stopped in their way along narrow, winding vaults, by a low, grated door,” or seeing “their only lamp, extinguished by a sudden gust of wind, and of being left in total darkness.” Tempting thoughts ...

But because the narrative turns in this chapter exist to take away Catherine’s joy, her brother declares that they need to cut the trip short because it’ll be night by the time they even get to the castle. With very bad grace, John turns around and gripes about James’s shoddy gig and scoffs at Cat’s assertion that James can’t afford better riding equipment (implying that John thinks James can afford to keep a horse and carriage). And when Cat arrives at the Allens’, she learns that Eleanor and Henry had indeed made it to the house, heard that she wasn’t there, and left. She’s devastated.

That evening, Cat hangs out at the Thorpes’, though this doesn’t help her mood. Between Isabella’s mindless chatter about the ball she’d rather be at and flirtation with James, Cat starts to think that her friend is “wanting in tenderness towards herself and her sorrows.” Is Isabella to blame, though? Cat’s the one who transgressed here; Isabella only provided the temptation. (Still, a little sympathy would be something a true friend would offer in this scenario.)

Cat is resigned to “the true heroine’s portion” of a fitful night’s sleep. Will the next day bring better news? Can she make it up to the Tilneys?

The Shapard Shelf: Rainy weather deterred outings for women due to a) their “presumed greater physical delicacy” and b) presumably equally “delicate … gowns and shoes.” Shapard reminds us that in the shorter days of February, travelers on the road had less time to travel by daylight, though if the night sky was clear, moonlight was helpful. The castle Catherine had hoped to visit was built in 1766 as a “summer house” in the “imitation medieval structure” style, making it “the exact opposite of what she expects and Thorpe promises” (he declares it to be “the oldest in the kingdom”—because of course he does).