I too think it's a bit Jane Eyrey - probably because both the heroines have that same miserable sacrificial demeanor. They are both martyrs to the ideal of, what became known as, Victorian morality.
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I too think it's a bit Jane Eyrey - probably because both the heroines have that same miserable sacrificial demeanor. They are both martyrs to the ideal of, what became known as, Victorian morality.
Yes, but that sexiness only applies when it's not for real :p. I'm not sure whether I'd like to submit to that in reality...Quote:
Originally Posted by Ecurb
Women are fickle, aren't they ;).
Seems an interesting plot... Rochester also presses the point that he deserves a second chance, because he has been tricked into a marriage with a wife whom he can't get rid of. It's a valid point. The problem in this case is that he can't divorce her, because even if she did commit adultery with another man (he alludes to this), which was the only means for a man to get rid of his wife at the time, this would, paradoxically, still not be a ground for divorce in this case, as Bertha was declared mad before he could petition for divorce and therefore is considered non-compus mentis. In essence she is not considered to be responsible for her actions and thus she cannot be accused of adultery. That's quite sad, because not only is he saddled with an abusive wife, he cannot solve his problem either because the law forbids him. So he is faced with the lonely existence of a bachelor without the prospect of a wife and children (so idealised in Victorian society), until Bertha decides to die of her own accord.
I don't think his mere attempt at bigamy makes him a rotter. After all the priest and the lawyer clearly have some kind of sympathy for it. They do try and argue their case, but it is plain that faced with Bertha and the reality of Rochester's existence and chances of happiness, they are kind of taken aback by their own argument. However, where Rochester does become a real rotter in Victorian eyes is that (apart from not really attempting to care all that well for his 'former' wife) he has had a string of mistresses, a child out of wedlock, and to top it all off, he tries to trick Jane into a marriage.
From Wikipedia, I gather the Peacockes' situation differs where they get married in the mistaken belief that she is a widow, but after their mistake has been revealed they decide to carry on the 'marriage' nonetheless. Rochester never tells Jane that he's got a mad wife, but that he'd like to marry her and be her husband. He makes that pledge under false pretenses. Which makes him untrustworthy. I mean, he can say 'but I truly love you and I won't leave you, ever, as long as I live' all he likes after his lie has been exposed, but if he was prepared to lure her into a bigamous marriage without taking her into his confidence about his terrible problem, then why should she be prepared to trust him in what will be for her a precarious situation?
Hardy also expressed ideas about bigamy in Jude the Obscure where he didn't see any problem with it either, I don't think. Just because those characters got married without really considering too much that it wa until either of them died, doesn't mean they should stay unhappily together. I think that was probably a reality for many people.
Quote:
Originally Posted by JonathanB
I see what they mean though. Fanny is also a bit of a goodie... Unless you know the plot already, we won't talk about it. But you'll see how Crawford fits into that picture, although admittedly it's less pronounced.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
I have read it at least twice already and I know the plot. I still don't think Henry is anything like the brooding Mr Rochester. He's a charmer - and unusually in Jane Austen not good looking.
OK, there's no Rochester in Mansfield Park. The similarities are that small, unloved heroines go to live with their aunts and uncles. MP is Austen's only novel that begins with the heroine as a young girl (if we discount the humorous introduction in Northanger Abbey, in which baseball is mentioned). Also, there's a Caribbean connection in both novels. Sir Thomas has economic interests in Antigua (which, we assume, involve a plantation using slave labor). The similarity is mainly with the situation and character of the heroine, though.
I haven't read Jane Eyre for some time and given Ecurb's criticism of the heroine I am not likely to do so. But I'm not convinced the two heroines are that similar in character. In situation they are both dependents in a big house.
Presumably the similarity between Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice is that Rochester and Darcy both seem to have the same sexual attraction for a certain type. I'm gay for goodness sake and can find a man fanciable, but both of them leave me cold. (As do Heathcliff and Lovelace, the ****.) Henry Crawford though could flutter my heart.
I'd have liked Mansfield Park much better if Fanny had married Henry Crawford and Edmond had married Mary Crawford. But the sanctimonious duo end up with each other not because of active pursuit but because everyone else has spent themselves out living life impulsively and passionately.
I don't think Henry Crawford is like Mr. Rochester but there is a point of similarity - they are both men of questionable moral character who are charmed by pure and virtuous women.
Jane Eyre however is nothing at all like Fanny. Fanny is quiet, passive and judgmental. Jane too is a little judgmental, but just the opposite of quiet and passive. She's a firebrand and a rebel. Look at this abused orphan at the age of ten, "John thrust his tongue in his cheek whenever he saw me, and once attempted chastisement; but as I instantly turned against him, roused by the same sentiment of deep ire and desperate revolt which had stirred my corruption before, he thought it better to desist, and ran from me tittering execrations, and vowing I had burst his nose. I had indeed leveled at that prominent feature as hard a blow as my knuckles could inflict; and when I saw that either that or my look daunted him, I had the greatest inclination to follow up my advantage to purpose; but he was already with his mama." Go Jane!
Maybe I do not remember Fanny properly and am misjudging her, but Jane Eyre I can vouch for - I've read it so many times I think I know the book by heart. :)
Fanny Price and Henry Crawford would have been a match made in hell.Quote:
Originally Posted by mona amon
Like Northanger Abbey (Austen's other novel named after an estate), Mansfield Park is a parody of standard literary forms. However, it is more mature and subtle than Northanger Abbey (not to knock N.A., which is hilarious, and was written when Austen was not yet one and twenty).
In the standard romance, the hero goes out into the wide world to seek his fortune. In MP, Fanny Price wants nothing more than to stay home (at her adopted home of MP).
Although Henry Crawford is the villain of the piece, he is set up to resonate as the hero. Austen introduces him as follows: "“To anything like a permanence of abode, or limitation of society, Henry Crawford had, unluckily, a great dislike……” Why, the reader wonders, are Henry's heroic preferences "unlucky"? One possible reason: they are precisely the opposite of Fanny's preferences. Fanny is unadventurous and unsociable. A more unfortunate match can scarcely be imagined.
In an early scene in which Henry Crawford appears, Austen sets up the conflict around which the novel revolves. Mrs. Grant and Mary Crawford are talking about the surprises matrimony may bring: “You are as bad as your brother, Mary; but we will cure you both. Mansfield shall cure you both, and without any taking in. Stay with us, and we will cure you.”
Will the Crawfords change Mansfield (which is Fanny's Eden)? Or will Mansfield change the Crawfords? The whole shebang about the play, -- in which the participants actually DO change Mansfield by turning one of the rooms into a theater -- symbolizes this conflict.
Like Jane Eyre, Fanny Price is an abandoned child, searching for a home. Fanny has neither the spunk nor the physical courage of Miss Eyre, but her quest is no less poignant, and far more realistic. Fanny is a shrewd moral observer, when it comes to the Crawfords, or her own parents, or (even) Tom. But she (as is the case with Austen's other heroines) is blinded by her affections and desires for a home.
Here Fanny and Edmund ride back to Mansfield from her parents' house in Portsmouth:
Clearly, Mansfield is an Eden to Fanny, despite being funded by slave labor in Antigua, and being ruled by an unloving and dictatorial Sir Thomas. But Fanny wants nothing more than the approbation of Sir Thomas, despite the fact that his failings as a father are clear, and he never really loves Maria or Julia.Quote:
“They were in the environs of Mansfield long before the usual dinner-time, and as they approached the beloved place…..her pleasures were of the keenest sort. It was three months, full three months, since her quitting it, and the change was from winter to summer. Her eye fell everywhere on lawns and plantations of the freshest green; and the trees, though not fully clothed, were in that delightful state when farther beauty is known to be at hand, and when, while much is actually given to the sight, more yet remains for the imagination. ”
At the end of the book, Sir Thomas exiles Maria, and learns to love Fanny. "Fanny was indeed the daughter that he (Sir Thomas) wanted. His charitable kindness had been rearing a prime comfort for himself..." Sir Thomas, of course, lacks "charity". His kindness did provide him with a prime comfort, but charity (St. Paul tells us) "never faileth". In fact, St. Paul claims that charity "beareth all things" and "endureth all things" (presumably even such horrors as adultery). It is Mary Crawford (whom Edmund wishes had felt "modest loathings" at her brother's adultery) who wants what is best for her brother -- and even for Maria -- not Edmund, and not Sir Thomas. It is Mary Crawford whose love "never faileth". Sir Thomas' "charitable kindness" (is the word, so familiar from the King James Bible, chosen at random?) turns out to be merely "rearing a prime comfort for himself".
I don't blame Fanny for any of this, though. She is never more admirable than when she faces Sir Thomas's demands that she marry Henry Crawford, and simply says, "I - I cannot like him, sir, well enough to marry him." However well we readers might like Henry Crawford, Fanny is correct and honorable in refusing him.
Fanny loves Edmund because from when she was a child, he was the only person in the house who treated her with consideration as a person in her own right. If that is to be self righteous prig, then the world needs more of them.
She has seen Henry playing off Maria and Julia while ignoring her. Not surprisingly, she is not likely to be impressed when he tries to woo her having up to then ignored her.
I would like to add this to the discussion if I may be so bold (and a bit mischievous) ?
Can preferring one to the other, (Austen Vs Bronte, Jane Vs Elizabeth) be a Class thing, or indeed a North/South divide question ? I am from the North of England and working class - I much prefer the Bronte`s works to Jane Austen`s. I am not suggesting that it IS a class thing, but I wonder, is there something going on which subconsciously makes me feel this way ? :crazy: Does anyone else think this way ?
I'm a northerner and live in Bronte country, but I much prefer Austen. I see what you mean though about the class thing, you often find scornful comments of Austen's own narrow and privileged situation, and that of her heroines. A bit unfair I think, the Brontes were not exactly working class - nor were their subjects. Austen does appear more genteel, but she has a steely edge she barely keeps sheathed.
But your question was about the reader - I'll have to think about that.
Tam Lin has an interesting point, but the difference is not primarily class or geography, to my mind. Both heroines marry landed gentleman and the books are set in the same social milieu. I don’t think the geographical setting is significant.
E P Thomson in The History of the Working Class spends some time discussing the Bronte’s political sympathies, which were Tory. Apparently in Charlotte’s Shirley the working class agitators are regarded in a hostile light.
The difference between Austen and C Bronte I’d suggest is personality. But I’ll post about that later.
Without any evidence at all, apart from the tone of her book, I feel that Anne was a Liberal and was disaproved of by Charlotte.
That was teenage me, couldn't talk to any girl I fancied.Quote:
Originally Posted by JonathanB
I don't think Henry ever has any problem talking to anyone he wants. He didn't talk to Fanny because he was amusing himself with Maria.
My theory about the difference between the two authors can look like the class/north/south thing for reasons of their personality.
Jane Austen with her awareness of social distinctions and concern for appropriate social behaviour can appeal to snobs or at least the stereotype of the effete Southern middle class.
Jane Eyre’s feistiness and refusal to fit in could well appeal to the stereotype of Northern combative working class.
Edmund is a kind teenager; he is seldom as attractive as when he helps Fanny write the letter to her brother. All credit to him.
Fanny's secret love for Edmund protects her from Henry Crawford. Who knows if she would have been as judgmental about his behavior had her heart been unprotected? Some readers see Fanny as an astute, impartial observer. I see her as more like Austen's other heroines -- influenced by her own prejudices and desires.
Charlotte Bronte and Jane Austen were both the daughters of impecunious clergymen. Charlotte married in her late 30s, and died soon after of runaway morning sickness. Jane died of (probably) Addison's disease. They were both 39 (I think) when they died. So they were both the single (for most of their adult lives) daughters of relatively poor clergy.
The Bronte family met tragic ends: only Charlotte lived to see 31. Austen's siblings were more successful financially (and in terms of their health); one of Austen's brothers rose to the rank of Admiral in the British navy. Economically, England was changing from a rural, Regency society (for Austen) to a more financially diverse society (for Bronte), so class consciousness was changing as well. Nonetheless, Elizabeth Bennet would have been almost as impoverished as Jane Eyre, once her father died, if she hadn't found a husband. We are invited to scoff at Mrs. Bennet's husband hunting, but what loving mother would do otherwise?
Clergymen, however, were "gentlemen" in both societies, however rich or poor they might be. A pound might have been worth $100 in Austen's days (and slightly less in Bronte's), based on today's American money. So Darcy's 10,000 ponds a year was equivalent to $1,000,000 a year. There can be no direct comparisons, however, because goods were relatively expensive, and labor and food (servants, etc.) very cheap. I remember in some Victorian novels a good horse might cost between 50 and 100 pounds, which is almost as much as a decent (used) car today.
I have only read it a couple of times, and some time ago, but I think Fanny is simply wrong for today's reader. We like our heroines assertive and sexy, like Emma for instance - which is ironic because Austen said with Emma she created a heroine no one would like. As I remember Fanny gets her desires by waiting patiently and doing nothing to promote them. She is never active on her own behalf, she is completely selfless. Its an overtly christian moral tale, she knows her place, she waits and waits she is good, then everything falls into place for her. it's unsatisfying.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ecurb
I have to say that I identify with Fanny far more than Lizzie or Emma. But that says something about me.
Elizabeth Bennet is the World's darling (and with good reason), and Emma shares her active nature, pride, and intelligence. Catherine Morland has a heart of pure gold (and transparency). Fanny is quiet, observant, and little used to expressing her firmly held opinions. In this sense, she is like Anne Eliot. But everyone loves Anne. When she goes out to her sister's in-laws, everyone wants to talk to her. When she visits Lyme, Benwick and Mr. Eliot are instantly attracted to her. Although she is (at home) almost as quiet and disregarded as Fanny, she has a genuine desire to please others. She plays the piano for hours so that her beloved Captain Wentworth can dance with Henrietta and Louisa Musgrove. I can't imagine Fanny doing that -- she would go to her room with a headache.
Fanny is a bit of a prim spoilsport -- not so bad that we must dislike her for it, but the contrast with Anne makes it clear. Perhaps when she reaches Anne's age, after several years of happy marriage, she will develop some of Anne's quiet social confidence.
p.s. What's wrong with putting on a play? I'll grant that the shenanigans surrounding the play at Mansfield were unseemly, but we know that the Austen family put on family theatricals regularly when Jane was a girl. What is Austen getting at here? Is she opposing what we moderns would call "role playing"? Does it symbolize the Crawford's battle to either change Mansfield or be changed by it?
That the play is so obviously inappropriate to Edmund, Fanny and Sir Thomas is the hardest thing to take about the book (as well as the Bertram's financial security being built on the slave trade.)
That is far more of a difficulty for me than the character of Fanny.
Actresses were still not quite respectable, (and only middle class at best), the play they chose was a bit risque' - and they knew it - all that holding hands and declaring love! They were being thrilled by their own daring and sophistication.
But it needn't have been a play I suppose. The play is a device to illustrate the corruption being brought upon the family home by the Crawfords. Even Fanny and Edmund are incrementally persuaded to join in by peer pressure from their glamorous friends. Also the whole project was on the edge of chaos, a kind of anarchy preveiled because rules and conventions were being broken.
They all knew they were being "naughty" while Sir Thomas was away - as we can see by the guilty scurrying about that went on when he returned.
We really ought to have a Mansfield Park thread. I'll start one.
http://www.online-literature.com/for...40#post1306440
Two days ago I typed a whole thing about simimlarities between Henry Crawford and Rochester and then it got deleted :
Actually Trollope touches upon that in Framley Parsonage. The regime that had been in place to pay clergymen was tithes from the congregation. Obviously it was kind of fair when it was set up, but things got more and more distorted with clergymen in places like modern-day Kensington getting loads while others who were put into a poor congregation faced with poverty. For the same work, or more (depending on their diligence). Patrick Brontë was obviously one of the poor guys. I think he lived on about £200 per annum, plus something maybe for the fact that he was perpetual curate). He paid his curate Nicholls (whom Charlotte married in the end, after the final blessing of her father) £50.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ecurb
However, as wages were not indexed, Austen's father lived on more or less the same, but as Sense and Sensibility makes plain, even £200 per annum was quite decent. OK, you couldn't keep a carriage and everything, but you could live reasonably decently (with a very young servant girl) if you were careful. There were lots of working-class people and families who lived on much less.
If you index by the retail index, Darcy is indeed a millionaire, but if you index in comparison with wages, the result is even starker. Then he's a millionaire several times over. Just to give an idea: Bertha's £30,000 dowry, would have been the equivalent (in 1847, the year of publication of JE) £2,500,000, and actually we should remember that this would have been even higher as it was around 1820 that Rochester got the money.
I think by the time we reach Brontë's era, the class divide between clergy also becomes bigger. By the time we've reached Trollope's 1860s, the difference between the poor curate Crawley in his poor parish and the rich and fortunate Mark Robarts is so bad, Crawley is, though not overtly, treated like a standard case of poverty (with charity food parcels and everything). The idea that he would have been a gentleman nonetheless is far less present than in Austen's day, though that's maybe because Crawley can't even afford shoes for his children, whereas clergymen in Austen's day definitely still could.
The same £200 budget:
1820:
commodities index £14,280
wages index £807,500
1847:
CI £16,320
WI £578,800
1860:
CI £16,780
WI £460,300
That's an interesting thing to think about though...
Laura, I have been Team Rochester since the book's age was still expressed in 2 digits, and my efforts to lighten up and cut Darcy some slack are ongoing.
Yes, someone who gets it! I don't think I'll ever understand how one could prefer Darcy over Rochester... or even prefer Darcy at all...