Thursday, October 14, 2010

Profile: Elizabeth Bennet

... she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous.

Name: Elizabeth Bennet

Age: 20

Hobbies: Long walks, reading, and analyzing the foibles of her neighbors.

Most charming quality: A sharp and witty tongue

Most detrimental tendency: An inclination to judge character based upon appearance.

Greatest strength: Intelligence

Truest friend: Jane Bennet

Worst enemy: Another difficult call. I nominate George Wickham.

Prospects: Her share of the 5000 pounds her mother brought to her marriage, about 50 pounds a year.

Favorite quotations: "Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use."


"Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men to rocks and mountains?"

"He is also handsome," replied Elizabeth, "which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete."

"This is the consequence, you see, Madam, of marrying a daughter," said Elizabeth. "It must make you better satisfied that your other four are single."

"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time."

Musings: What is there to say about Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Like Mary Poppins, she often seems "practically perfect in every way", but is she really? When compared with some of Austen's other heroines, particularly Elinor Dashwood and Anne Elliot, she is decidedly flawed, yet she is by far the most beloved and an eternal source of fascination to readers. Perhaps she is precisely what Austen meant when she said, "Pictures of perfection, you know, make me sick and wicked". As imperfect as Darcy is at the beginning of the novel, Elizabeth is equally so. Her prejudices are in complete control when she makes her initial assessments of both Darcy and Wickham, and they are totally premised upon how each man effects her pride. She likes Wickham because he pays her special attention, while disliking Darcy for his initial slight.When her assumptions are shattered after reading Darcy's letter, she decries her past behavior:
 "How despicably have I acted!" she cried. -- "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! -- I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity, in useless or blameable distrust. -- How humiliating is this discovery! -- Yet, how just a humiliation! -- Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly. -- Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself."
So she claims, but I believe that she does know how prejudiced she is all along, even if she does not acknowledge the negative repercussions of her biases.  In chapter sixteen, when chatting with Wickham at the Phillips' home, she thinks to herself: "A young man too, like you, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable". Though the Victorians may have adored physiognomy, Austen wisely teaches us the dangers of judging character based upon appearance (Wickham, Willoughby, Mr. Elliot), and Elizabeth, with all her insight into human character, should certainly know better. Again in chapter eighteen, at the Netherfield ball, she says jokingly to Charlotte: "Heaven forbid! -- That would be the greatest misfortune of all! -- To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! -- Do not wish me such an evil." While the statement is certainly a fine piece of wit, it is also acknowledgment of her determined prejudices. The reason why I love and admire Elizabeth anyway is because of her eventual willingness to acknowledge her faults and amend her behavior accordingly. It is for this same reason that I find Darcy the most appealing of all Austen's heroes. Both characters are able to be self-critical and change accordingly. It is easy to see the faults you yourself posses in others and decry them. It is far more difficult (and courageous) to turn such censure upon oneself.

Images:
http://www.jimandellen.org/austenblog/926.html
http://www.myprideandprejudice.com/2009/07/1980-pride-and-prejudice-a-review-of-the-bbc-tv-adaptation/
http://netflixcommunity.ning.com/group/yourearealcharacter/forum/topics/character-barrel-of-monkeys
http://www.theage.com.au/news/film-reviews/pride-and-prejudice/2005/10/20/1129775887719.html

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Memory by Linda Wells

As I am very behind on reviews, I decided to discuss all three volumes of Linda Wells' rather epic Memory series in a single post. I read these books a few weeks ago while I had the flu, and they were an excellent distraction from my ailments. Though Ms. Wells' novels are highly sexual, which I disapprove of, I cannot help but to continue reading the tombs she produces, as the storylines are absolutely charming. Her first book, Chance Encounters, remains my favorite she has written, and I reread it when I need a thorough dose of romance (though after the first perusal, I have always skipped over the sex scenes). Though Ms. Wells' writing and grammar have remarkably improved since this novel, I still think her first story the best.

Memory is a "What If?" Pride and Prejudice re-imagining premised on the notion that Darcy and Elizabeth meet many years earlier than they do in the original story. Volume one, Lasting Impressions, begins with Fitzwilliam Darcy returning from a grand tour of the continent only to learn that his father is in failing health. Overwhelmed with the potential loss and the responsibilities it thrusts onto his shoulders, he escapes his London town home for Hyde Park, where a young girl's laughter cuts through his grief and makes a "lasting impression" upon him. This is Ms. Wells strength - creating gloriously romantic scenarios to bring our favorite couple together. Unlike the course of events in Miss Austen's story, Ms. Wells always has Darcy and Elizabeth make an instant connection in her books. In this novel, they see each other in passing several times over the course of many years, always separated before they can speak. In am amusing twist, it is Charles Bingley who ends up playing matchmaker, his social background acting as a link between Elizabeth and Darcy's worlds.

Lasting Impressions spans the course of the Darcy's courtship and sees them married and established at Pemberley. This was my favorite book in the trilogy, in no small part because it has the least amount of sex in it. Following Darcy and Elizabeth's discovery of each other, all the other characters' lives are radically changed from how Austen imagined them. Volumes two and three, Trials to Bear and How Far We Have Come (respectively), are largely dedicated to finding comfortable situations for the rest of the cast. I particularly enjoyed Ms. Wells' handling of Mary Bennet, who also finds herself mistress of a rather impressive estate. Jane Bennet takes a very different path than that we are familiar with, and Lydia Bennet is forced to see the dangers of her ways before bringing disgrace upon the family. Readers of Ms. Wells' other books will recall how harshly she deals with Mr. and Mr. Bennet, the latter usually bearing the brunt of her disapproval. In this book, it is Mrs. Bennet who is irredeemable. I continue to feel that Ms. Wells is rather harsh in her analysis of both these characters, but directing that disapproval towards Mrs. Bennet sits a bit more comfortably with me than when it is focused on Mr. Bennet.

All three books combined, the Memory series is about 1500 pages long, which is a lot of Darcy and Elizabeth. Granted, a good chunk of those pages are sex scenes and, in my opinion, unnecessary to the plot, but by spanning the books over several years, Ms. Wells gives those readers who can never get enough of these characters exactly what they want: Elizabeth and Darcy galore.

I must end this post with a question. Does anyone know if the Linda Wells who writes Pride and Prejudice fan fiction is the same Linda Wells who is a beauty editor at Allure? I have been wondering this since Chance Encounters was published but have never found a definite answer.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Janeicillin Shortage: Swapping Medicine for Wheels ...

Sorry to not post part three of Persuasion Janeicillin yesterday, but I bought a new car instead! Now that I am the proud owner of a station wagon, we had better hurry up and produce either a kid or a dog sometime soon, or I will have condemned myself to the ultimate mom car without good cause. We'll see how long it takes for me to miss my little two door VW hatchback ...

If I managed to complete part three, I will post it this weekend, so keep an eye out. However, as I have relatives visiting this weekend, I am not super optimistic that the piece will be completed for my satisfaction. If I fail to pull it together, the normal schedule will resume next Friday. Just a little teaser - this is the section where we encounter Mary Musgrove for the first time, who is something of a favorite character of mine (I have a passion for Austen's most transparent creatures). Hopefully, I will manage to do her a bit of comic justice.

Have a great weekend everybody!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Profile: Marianne Dashwood

Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby. She would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning, had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than when she lay down in it. But the feelings which made such composure a disgrace, left her in no danger of incurring it. She was awake the whole night, and she wept the greatest part of it. She got up with a headache, was unable to talk, and unwilling to take any nourishment; giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters, and forbidding all attempt at consolation from either. Her sensibility was potent enough!



Name: Marianne Dashwood

Age: Sixteen

Hobbies: Playing the pianoforte and marveling at the sublime

Most charming quality: (as described by Colonel Brandon) "...warmth of heart...eagerness of fancy and spirits."

Most detrimental tendency: Self-absorption

Greatest strength: Passion

Truest friend: Elinor Dashwood

Worst enemy: Highly debatable. I nominate John Dashwood.

Prospects: While, like her sister, she only has 1000 pounds until her mother's death, she expects much more. In her own words: "And yet two thousand a-year is a very moderate income," said Marianne. "A family cannot well be maintained on a smaller. I am sure I am not extravagant in my demands. A proper establishment of servants, a carriage, perhaps two, and hunters, cannot be supported on less."

Favorite quotations: "Nor I," answered Marianne with energy, "our situations then are alike. We have neither of us any thing to tell; you, because you do not communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing."

"Undoubtedly. At my time of life opinions are tolerably fixed. It is not likely that I should now see or hear any thing to change them."


"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I will leave the room this moment."

"The rent of this cottage is said to be low; but we have it on very hard terms, if we are to dine at the park whenever any one is staying either with them, or with us."

"On the contrary, nothing can be a stronger proof of it, Elinor; for if there had been any real impropriety in what I did, I should have been sensible of it at the time, for we always know when we are acting wrong, and with such a conviction I could have had no pleasure."

"Dear, dear Norland!" said Marianne, as she wandered alone before the house, on the last evening of their being there; "when shall I cease to regret you!--when learn to feel a home elsewhere!--Oh! happy house, could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no more!--And you, ye well-known trees!--but you will continue the same.--No leaf will decay because we are removed, nor any branch become motionless although we can observe you no longer!--No; you will continue the same; unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you occasion, and insensible of any change in those who walk under your shade!--But who will remain to enjoy you?"

Musings: My thoughts about Marianne were largely expressed in my profile of Elinor (read it here). I think of her as a typical teenager: full of her own uniqueness and totally unaware that she is actually almost exactly like every young lady at sixteen. When I was nineteen, I dated a man of twenty-three. The relationship rapidly proceeded towards its end when he told me that I wasn't as unusual as I thought. I was further infuriated by his insistence that in a few years, I would be mature enough to see his point (which I was, and have had the same conversation with similarly reluctant teens in turn). So many of Marianne's statements remind me of this episode of my life. For example, "No; my feelings are not often shared, not often understood," is precisely how I responded to this long ago boyfriend's sentiments, refusing to believe that his years endowed him with the slightest notion as to how I felt. Marianne also possesses a good dose of the righteous indignation inherent to teenagers. Who does not recall berating some authority figure or another for what we once deemed unforgivable offenses?  I used to lecture my mother about politics (actually, I still sometime do), appalled by her acceptance at face value of mainstream news and textbook history. This reminds me of Marianne's rebuke to Sir John:
"That is an expression, Sir John," said Marianne, warmly, "which I particularly dislike. I abhor every common-place phrase by which wit is intended; and 'setting one's cap at a man,' or 'making a conquest,' are the most odious of all. Their tendency is gross and illiberal; and if their construction could ever be deemed clever, time has long ago destroyed all its ingenuity."
Who but a teen would feel empowered to lecture their elders, particularly one to whom they are extremely indebted to, in such a matter? Of course, by the end of the novel, Marianne has grown up in many ways. She becomes aware of the selfishness of her behavior and determines to improve herself, but even this honorable intention is conducted in an overly dramatic manner. Marianne would go from lovelorn to bookworm in a blink of the eye, unaware of how ridiculous such extremes appear to adults. Her "course of serious study" is as ambitious as Emma Woodhouse's lists of books. Fortunately for Marianne, Colonel Brandon appreciates the idiosyncrasies of youth more than Mr. Knightley.

Images:
http://www.cleveland.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2008/03/a_merry_english_matchup_the_tu.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/7060533.stm
http://c19.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=sense&action=print&thread=29233 
http://movies.ndtv.com/GalleryDetails.aspx?ID=3505&category=Movies&picno=1&Section=Hollywood

Monday, October 4, 2010

Master Under Good Regulation by Kara Louise

With at least two Kara Louise's books being published by Sourcebooks this year, I got an urge to go back and reread my absolute favorite of her novels, perhaps even my very favorite Austen-premised novel of all time: Master Under Good Regulation, the story of Pride and Prejudice as seen through the eyes of Darcy's dog, Reggie. Thinking my husband would enjoy the book as well (we are both dog lovers), we elected to read it aloud to each other. Even he cried, and my husband is not a weeper. It is such a marvelous story, painstakingly precise in its adherence to the original book, and I had to share my enthusiasm with you.

Any fan of Pride and Prejudice retellings from Darcy's perspective will adore this novel. It begins when Darcy is a teenager, shortly after his mother's death. Mr. Darcy Sr. takes his serious son to pick a companion amongst several litters of English Springer Spaniels: some of superior breeding, and others of slightly inferior stock. Sir Reginald Ascott Hamilton Darcy, as he came to be named, was of the latter group, but his young master sees something special in his eyes that the dogs of greater pedigree do not possess. The two become inseparable friends, and the first half of the book details Darcy's life until he goes to Netherfield - his struggles to feel comfortable in society, the loss of his father, and Wickham's attempt to elope with Georgiana - all from Reggie's perspective. Ms. Louise does an amazing job of capturing the behavior of a dog, and only a few pages into the novel, readers will already be  head over heels in love with Reggie (my husband and I had to frequently interrupt our reading to share memories of our childhood dogs - Max and Chodney). I love this scene from Reggie's puppy-hood:
I had been at Pemberley close to four months when my master came down late one night after everyone had gone to sleep. He reached into the pen, picking me up, and putting his finger to his lips to quiet me.

"Now you keep quiet, Reggie. We must not awaken anyone."

He took me up the stairs and into his sleeping chambers. He had made a ed for me on the floor next to his. He had collected a pile of old blankets and placed them in a corner. He then situated me on top of them all and told me that was where I was to sleep.

He told me to stay and then he climbed into his own bed. Once he had settled into his large bed for a considerable length of time, I decided I had stayed quite long enough, got out of my bed, and walked to the edge of his. From my perspective, being the puppy that I still was, the top of the bed appeared quite high. Nevertheless, I made an attempt to jump up, grabing the top coverlet with my paws but unfortunately, slid back down, taking the coverlet with me, to the floor.

My master awakened, unsure what had just happened.

"What...?" He laughed as I looked remorsefully at him, feeling extremely mortified at my failure to stealthily join him. I think he took pity on me, or perhaps he did not want me to make another attempt and destroy his bed, because he lifted me up on to it.

"Now, Reggie, if you are to remain up here with me, you must stay on the other side; down at the foot of the bed. Do you understand?"

I made an attempt to lick his face and he promptly put me down at the far end of the bed. But gradually, throughout the night, I worked my way closer to him and was pleased to discover that he was more than willing to give my belly a scratching. I was in raptures and quite pleased how exceedingly well my scheme had worked out!
For Darcy, forced to be perfectly behaved and responsible at such a young age, Reggie provides the unique therapy only a dog can give. So many of these scenes remind me of my father: a big, stoic kind of guy who goes all mushy when cuddling with a puppy. Darcy might have to be perfect in the eyes of the world, but Reggie lets him be himself.

By the time we finally arrive at the beginning of Pride and Prejudice, Reggie is an old dog determined to find his master a proper companion before he dies. Nowhere in Austen do we confront a more determined matchmaker than Reggie, who immediately realizes that Elizabeth Bennet is perfect for his master. Just like him, she is not of the highest pedigree, but her eyes reveal that she possess qualities the more refined ladies lack. They quickly develop a friendship, which Mr. Darcy observes jealously, and Reggie takes on the nearly impossible task of trying to make Elizabeth understand who his master's true character. Note Reggie's frustration during this familiar exchange at Netherfield:
I was startled out of my musings by Miss Elizabeth declaring, "Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at! That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh."


She spoke with such a sparkle in her eyes and conviction in her words that a distressed whimper escaped me. Here I had hoped that they might find a way to converse amiably and bridge the distance between them, and instead, the chasm seemed to grow larger with every word.


I noticed the flicker of distress in my master's eyes as he considered thoughtfully his response before answering.


He owned that Miss Bingley had given him more credit than she ought and Miss Elizabeth supposed that follies and nonsense and the like were precisely what he was without. Did I dare hope that they would carry on a conversation that shed a good light on my master?


"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone." No, I thought. It seemed at the moment to be impossible. He continued, " But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."


"Such as vanity and pride." Miss Elizabeth answered back.


"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride - where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation."


Why must my master insist on being under such good regulation? Elizabeth must have likewise wondered as she turned and tilted her head down toward me, suppressing a smile from him.
In the end, it is Reggie who leads Darcy to Elizabeth during her walks at Rosings, he who orchestrates their chance meeting at Pemberley, and he who helps locate Wickham and Lydia. All those moments in the original story that seem almost too coincidental are easily explained by Reggie's amiable interference.

I cannot praise this book enough. By telling the story from Reggie's perspective, Ms. Louise shows us a side of Darcy no one else has ever captured. What we humans are willing to do in front of our pets is very different from how we allow ourselves to behave in the presence of other humans, or from what we are inclined to record in our diaries, and if there was ever a man in need of a nonjudgmental, perpetually loyal companion, it is Mr. Darcy. If you have never read Master Under Good Regulation, do yourself a favor and get a copy. It is truly a masterful piece of writing. Now I only have to convince my husband that just because we read a book about an awesome dog, it does not mean we have to immediately set forth to procure one for ourselves.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Persuasion Janeicillin: Part Two

Read Part One

Anne and Frederick were to dine with the Crofts that evening, where they were sure to receive the warm and sincere good wishes that are to be expected upon an engagement, but which had been so lacking in the reception of its news thus far. Mr. Elliot had looked forward to seeing his fair cousin, whose behavior at the Elliot's card party earlier that week had confused him. He hoped to learn what caused the arch look in her eye, and regain any ground he might have unknowingly lost in her favor. Upon entering the select gathering, he looked around for her eagerly, and his disappointment was acute when he perceived Anne's absence. Spotting Lady Russell, who was engaged in conversation with an old acquaintance of her husband's, he rapidly making his way to her side, attempting to garner her attention with all the confidence of an honored friend.

"Lady Russell! I hope this evening finds you well? I do not see your god-daughter amongst us tonight. Can we expect the pleasure of her company?"

Lady Russell gave Mr. Elliot a cold look, causing him no little surprise, and said, "Anne is dining with friends this evening. As you can well perceive, there is no one here to particularly engage her attention." With that she resumed her interrupted discourse with the decrepit old man by her side, leaving Mr. Elliot bewildered and concerned. He proceeded to seek his cousins for information. After completing the necessary obsequiences, he readily questioned Sir Walter, "I am sorry to not see Miss Carteret amongst us. Does she remain unimproved? A cold is a dreadful thing to endure; she has my utmost sympathy. I imagine Miss Anne is, once again, denying us the pleasure of her company for the sake of an ailing friend?"

"No, indeed. She is dining with my tenant at Kellynch, Admiral Croft, who is brother to her newly intended, Captain Wentworth."  Mr. Elliot's face blanched, but Sir Walter pair him no heed. "A fine man, Wentworth. He will make a handsome addition to the family. I had quite despaired of ever seeing Anne marry. She is certainly no debutante in her first bloom, but she has done well for herself. My dear cousin, what think you of this turn of events?"

Though Lady Dalrymple was not an intellectual woman, life at the pinnacle of society had honed her eye for gossip, and she quickly perceived what Sir Walter did not: the shock his words caused Mr. Elliot, and the pain concealed behind Miss Elliot stoic mien. Delighted to see the love triangle that had been the talk of Bath crumble before her noble eyes, she hastened to make the most of her companions' discomfort.

"It is a fine match for Miss Anne, Sir Walter. I am sure the fears of her remaining at home have quite plagued you, as she is on the wrong side of twenty-five, but I have always thought Anne a very pretty woman for her age. Indeed, I believe that many a man will be sorely disappointed upon learning this news, which one cannot commonly claim for a lady nearing thirty . Please send the Captain and herself my very best wishes for their future. If they will make haste and marry in Bath before our departure, it would be my pleasure to attend the ceremony."

Sir Walter beamed, while Elizabeth and Mr. Elliot struggled for composure. "It would not be the same were we forced to enjoy this occasion without your company, my dear lady."

Lady Dalrymple looked pleased with herself, though her contentment stemmed more from her own malicious toying with the feelings of her younger companions than from satisfaction at the approaching nuptials. The latter was only a pleasant diversion, but Elizabeth and Mr. Elliot were an ongoing source of amusement. While Miss Elliot only betrayed the slightest flush at the mention of Anne's age, when she turned her attention towards a distracted Mr. Elliot and failed to engage his attention, her consternation became quite apparent. That gentleman excused himself for the company of Colonel Wallis, and Lady Dalrymple gloried in Elizabeth's predicament. However, having no eye for the actions of the inconsequential Miss Clay, the great lady failed to notice her equally satisfied countenance. Only Sir Walter remained complacent, quite charmed by the prospect of the consequence Lady Dalrymple's presence would add to his daughter's marriage.


In Gay Street the atmosphere was markedly different from that of an elegant card party. Admiral and Mrs. Croft, Captain Wentworth, and Anne made delightful dinner companions. The conversation was stimulating, while good feeling and harmony reigned. Mrs. Croft was in transports over her brother's engagement, and all were charmed by her effusions.

"I have so longed for Frederick to find the right lady with whom to settle down, and quite despaired the day would ever come." Her brother chuckled. "Oh I had no doubt that you would marry someone, my dear, but I had almost given up hope that she would be the right lady. Louisa Musgrove is a fine girl, no doubt, but I do not think she would have made you happy, Frederick.Your minds are too unequal, and you do not want a silly wife, which is what she would have become had you married her."

"Nonsense, Sophy! Either of those Musgroves would have done fine for Frederick. They are admirable and charming ladies, but I too am pleased with how things have turned out. I've always liked you, Miss Anne, as I think you know very well."

"But you are quite mistaken, my dear admiral! I have seen it before. A man of Frederick's parts weds a pretty and amiable young wife, a few years removes the novelty of their acquaintance, and the pert ways that once charmed begin to frustrate. The man grows to despise his wife, and her personality suffers in turn, exasperating the situation, and ending in misery. But marry a woman like our Anne - you do not mind me calling you by your given name, do you my dear? - and she will be the making of you! I could not be more pleased!"

"Nor could I," grinned the Captain. "I knew a woman eight years ago who I thought none would ever equal, and it is my undeserved good fortune to have been proven wrong. She has surpassed herself."

Anne blushed. How much his words regarding the alteration the years had enacted upon her person, so kindly conveyed to her by her sister Mary, still tormented was Anne's private concern. Now was not the occasion to quibble. "Oh Frederick! How can you? Only a man blinded by love could say such a thing, but I do not begrudge you your besotted state. Indeed, it is all that is charming!"

"Well said, Miss Anne. Well said indeed!"

"If we must begin our life together in a haze of fantasy, I do hope I know well enough to make the most of it, Admiral!" They all laughed harmoniously.

"I suppose you will now change your tune about allowing women aboard your ship, Frederick," said Mrs. Croft with a mischievous smile.

"Yes, we shall see him do as you and I, should we be lucky enough to have another war, worrying the entire fleet with requests of transport for his wife."

"I must say I hope that we find ourselves rather unlucky than otherwise, if good luck means war," put forth Anne.

"Exactly how you should feel," confirmed Admiral Croft, with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "One cannot expect a young lady, with no previous naval ties, to appreciate the problems peace brings to sailors. You will learn to think of it otherwise. You will stand by his side, will you not, Miss Anne, if the opportunity should arise? I think you would make a fine sailor. You have the look of one."  

"No matter what life may bring, I plan to face it with Frederick," she smiled consciously. "I only hope, should I be tested, that my legs prove seaworthy."

"I have no doubt they will. But do you all really believe my prejudices so easily overcome?" questioned Captain Wentworth. "No, I assure you, it will take more than the acquisition of a wife to make me feel differently regarding the question of allowing ladies aboard. You will recall that my previous prohibition was against a family of ladies. Only one will be tolerated on my ship." He looked at Anne meaningfully. 

"Delightful! That will suit perfectly, until your children are born," Mrs. Croft announced gleefully.

"You see, Anne, what Sophia really wants is not a wife for her brother, but a mother for her nieces and nephews."

In a similar, playful vein did the conversation continue. The future was looked forward to with great anticipation, and all it's potential blessings were discussed in turn. It was quite late when Captain Wentworth and Mrs. Croft accompanied Anne home to Camden-place, where she was surprised to find her sister and father still in the drawing-room, discussing the evening's events.

"There you are, Anne," her father greeted with spirit. "You will be quite gratified to know that Lady Dalrymple is decidedly pleased with the addition of Captain Wentworth to our family circle. Which reminds me, you must ascertain if he has any Irish descent. Our cousin is most convinced he must, though I maintain he must some connection to the Strafford family after all. He has quite the look of Sir Robert about him. Both are fine, well-looking men, would you  not say so, Elizabeth?"

"Both are tall and well-formed, undoubtedly, but Sir Robert is rather fairer than the Captain."

"Perhaps. It maybe so. Nevertheless, some investigation is in order, would you not say so, my dears? Now Anne, have you decided upon a wedding date? It would be most convenient if it took place rather sooner than later, so that Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret may attend. Would six weeks be sufficient time for your preparations?"

"I hardly know, Father. We have yet to discuss the matter in detail, though neither of us want to wait for much longer," we have had quite enough of that, she added silently. "Frederick will go to the Cathedral tomorrow to speak with the bishop. "

"Very well. I've written to Shepherd regarding your settlement. I see no reason why you cannot be married quickly, perhaps even within the month."

"It might take a bit longer than that to provide a wardrobe and carriage, Father," said Elizabeth, without looking up from the needlework she was assiduously pursuing.

"Not much longer, I am sure!" he replied optimistically. "Well I am for bed. It is rather late, is it not, and we've all had an exciting day. Good night, Elizabeth. Anne."

Seeing her sister persist in her work, Anne also chose to delay retiring, quite curious, in spite of herself,  to learn how Mr. Elliot reacted to the news of her engagement, as Sir Walter's discourse indicated he surely had. Gently she broached the subject with her sister, "Mrs. Clay has retired as well?"

"Yes. Penelope was quite fatigued upon our return and went immediately to her room."

"Was it a pleasant party?"

"No. I am afraid it was not. The rooms were hot, and the company lacked elegance."

"How did you find Lady Dalrymple and her daughter?"

"Miss Carteret is ill, Anne, as you would surely know if you paid her the slightest attention," Elizabeth sighed, "and Lady Dalrymple is in perfect health, as always."

"And Mr. Elliot?"

Elizabeth finally looked up at her sister, her eyes flashing. "He seemed not his usual self. Nor did Lady Russell, for that matter. The two barely spoke a word. He spent nearly the entire time in converse with Colonel Wallis, except when he partnered Mrs. Clay in a rubber."

"Was it his conversation that was so stimulating as to wear Mrs. Clay out?"

"Quite."

The sisters' eyes caught, each perceiving the other's discomfort with this turn of event, though for entirely different reasons. Anne had not yet learned to trust Mrs. Clay, and while Mr. Elliot had been blunt in his disapprobation for the lady, this public display of companionship upon the heels of what had every appearance of being a clandestine meeting in Bath Street made her suspicious. Elizabeth, while she would never dream of her friend being so presumptuous as to form a tendre for Mr. Elliott, was nevertheless angered by his attention to Mrs. Clay, especially as it seemed to be attained at her own expense. However, as the sisters were not close, and neither had any wish to make the other a confidant, the subject was dropped. Formal good evenings comprised their only parting words.

**********

Come back next Friday for another weekly dose!

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Profile: Elinor Dashwood

Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led to imprudence. She had an excellent heart;--her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught.

Name: Elinor Dashwood

Age: 19

Hobbies: Drawing

Most charming quality: A satiric wit that gently admonishes those in error, amuses the perceptive, and never disrespects those who are not.

Most detrimental tendency: Emotional repression

Greatest strength: Emotional intelligence

Truest friend: Marianne Dashwood

Worst enemy: Lucy Steele

Prospects: Greatly reduced from what she would have expected had her father lived. She has one thousand pounds (approximately fifty a year), and can expect her share of the seven thousand pounds belonging to her mother upon that good lady's death.

Favorite quotations: "It is not every one," said Elinor, "who has your passion for dead leaves."

"Infirmity!" said Elinor, "do you call Colonel Brandon infirm? I can easily suppose that his age may appear much greater to you than to my mother; but you can hardly deceive yourself as to his having the use of his limbs!"

"You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass," replied Elinor, "and so much on the strength of your own imagination, that the commendation I am able to give of him is comparatively cold and insipid. I can only pronounce him to be a sensible man, well-bred, well-informed, of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an amiable heart."

"I confess," replied Elinor, "that while I am at Barton Park, I never think of tame and quiet children with any abhorrence." 

"But perhaps the abuse of such people as yourself and Marianne will make amends for the regard of Lady Middleton and her mother. If their praise is censure, your censure may be praise, for they are not more undiscerning, than you are prejudiced and unjust."


"Do you call me happy, Marianne? Ah! if you knew!--And can you believe me to be so, while I see you so wretched!

Musings: Elinor and Marianne are two side of the same coin, and it is difficult to discuss one without considering the other. It's very clever what Austen does in Sense and Sensibility, her only novel featuring two heroines. By balancing a lady of nineteen against a sister of sixteen, she provides perspective on the development of a young woman's mind. Of course, there is Margaret in the background, who, at thirteen, gives the reader a complete picture of a woman's journey from childhood to adulthood, and the remarkable changes that occur during this time. While Marianne is physically mature, her mind has not yet developed beyond the passionate and oh so selfish transports of the teenage years. Most women were like Marianne once, ready to be catapulted to the highest peaks of excitement only to plummet afterward into self-exasperated wallowing. Then we become Elinors (hopefully), and while we might remember our youthful exploits fondly, perhaps even mourning those days of dizzying emotion, we are thankful we have learned to govern ourselves. It reminds me of the beginning of Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey", and I unconsciously just echoed some of his language: "That time is past,/And all its aching joys are now no more,/And all its dizzy raptures."

So while Elinor has grown beyond the time of "aching joys", Marianne, who in proper teenage fashion contributes the drama to our tale, is right in the middle of them. The result is that Elinor is presented as almost inconceivably perfect: a clear predecessor to Anne Elliot. She never makes a social misstep, privately or publicly, absorbing the kind of abuse that would drive Elizabeth Bennet to deliver an indignant set down with graceful indifference. Who does not wish to be so reasonable? So much in command of one's self at all times? It is impossible, but we are certainly better for trying.   

Images:
http://www.jimandellen.org/austenblog/928.html
http://c19.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=sense&action=print&thread=29233
http://ribbonsoflight.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/7060533.stm