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Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen |
| Date: |
15.06.04 (672 review reads) |
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Advantages: Too many to summarise
Disadvantages: Too few to mention
I read Pride and Prejudice for the first time as one of the set texts for my English a-level. My initial impression was along the lines of 'not bad'. Then, because I wanted to get a good grade in the essay and exam question that would inevitably ensue, I read it again. That time through, and each time thereafter, I loved it. I must have read it half a dozen times at least in the intervening twelve years, and I now number it among my favourite books.
I once heard or read it described, although I cannot recall where, as 'Mills & Boon written by a genius'. I don't know about the Mills and Boon bit, as I've never had the pleasure of reading one, but the genius part is probably apt. Pride and Prejudice is such a vibrant, funny, witty, sharply observed book it leaves no doubt that Jane Austen was a very, very clever lady indeed.
But what's so good about the it? Well first off the quality of the writing is wonderful. The plot advances in a stately fashion, as Austen writes her characters and their situations with a wit and levity that belies the sophistication of the language, and the perfect grammar. Formal and mannered as the prose is, certainly by modern standards, it is never hard to digest. This is quite an achievement - like whipping up a light soufflé using the ingredients for a Christmas pudding.
In no small part this can be attributed to the sly wit that permeates the book. The characters in the story are almost all drawn from the cream of society. They are ladies and gentlemen and their context is a time when those words were still heavy with meaning. In regency England the terms had yet to be cheapened by use on the doors of thousands upon thousands of public toilets. To be a gentleman meant to be refined, educated, enfranchised, and above all, well off (and not only well off - to truly excel a gentleman must owe his fortune not to the fickle trade winds, but to the timeless value of vast tracts of Great British land). Such a dilettante set is an easy target for so acute an observer as Ms Austen. The opening line is a gem, that sets the tone for the story to come: "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
With such a beginning it is no surprise that a major theme of the novel is what makes a good marriage. The subject is explored through the experience of Eliza (sometimes Lizzy) Bennet, a twenty year old girl possessed of slightly more wit than beauty (but certainly not lacking the latter), and her journey along the rocky road to matrimony. Eliza is the second of five daughters of a gentleman (of three thousand a year, from land). Mr Bennet, by the way, is perhaps the best realised character you're ever likely to come across who has no first name.
Their family, it soon becomes clear, is the outcome of matrimony gone wrong. All of the wit therein is derived from the father, all the beauty, and all of the folly from the mother. As such the Bennet household is far from being a haven of peace, harmony, and good sense. The eldest sisters, Jane and Eliza, are beautiful and clever. The youngest two are less pretty, exceedingly silly, and in the case of the youngest, the brash Lydia, apt to get into trouble. The middle sister is plain, not clever, but studious (she gets a somewhat raw deal, as she is only mentioned to be laughed at, and plays virtually no part in the story). Mr Bennet, while possessed of an admirable mind, has surrendered to apathy in the face of the endless stupidity of his wife. Mrs Bennet, a woman of "mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper" has room in her head for only one idea - to get her daughters wed as soon as possible.
For all five daughters are in a perilous position as regards their future prospects due to an entail on their father's estate, which, in the absence of a male heir, confers the estate onto their father's closest male relative. Therefore, the pressure is on to make an advantageous match to preserve themselves from the risk a life of lonely penury.
The action begins when a handsome young man of genial disposition and impressive wealth (four or five thousand a year, although from trade), Mr Bingley, moves into an estate near to that of the Bennets. With him come his less genial sisters and an even more handsome, even more rich (ten thousand a year, from land - jackpot!) friend, Mr Darcy. Bingley's charm and affability soon win the heart of Lizzy's elder sister, Jane; but Mr Darcy's manners are marred by his pride, and at the outset of their relationship he thoughtlessly insults Lizzy, which ignites in her a prejudice which blights the early stages of their relationship.
Soon after, onto the scene comes Wickham, a good looking officer in the militia exuding charm and good humour (with the added advantage of a willingness to denounce Mr Darcy and his behaviour at any opportunity), and also comes Mr Collins, a stupid, self-regarding prig of a man. Both pay court to Lizzy in their own way, even while Mr Darcy himself, after his initial snub, begins to recognise and then fall for her charms. As, one after the other, they make their suits, Lizzy has to think long and hard about what she wants from a husband.
That Lizzy has the strength of character to decide to follow the route that she believes will make her happy, rather than succumb to the pressures on her to marry the first eligible man who offers her security, is one of the great things about her as a protagonist, and helps make her one of the most memorable female characters in fiction. It would be going too far to describe her as feminist (she is not that far ahead of her time), but she is a woman of independent mind, and admirable self possession.
She contrasts well with her sister Jane, who, while possessing beauty, good sense and sweetness of disposition, is never mistress of her own fate. She suffers in silence, and is unable to do other than leave her happiness in the hands of others. Lizzy, on the other hand, is not inclined to accept passively interference with her life, as she makes abundantly plain in her showdown with the formidable but nevertheless ridiculous Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Mr Collins, the first suitor to importune Lizzy with an unwelcome offer of marriage, is a character so well painted in all his oleaginous awfulness, that virtually every word that drops from his lips is a masterpiece of pompous sycophancy. He is the first test of Lizzy's principles, and she does not fail it. The scene in which she rejects his advances is highly amusing, and that which follows after, when her mother entreats her to change her mind, and then attempts to enlist Mr Bennet?s assistance to persuade her is a lovely piece of writing:
""Oh! Mr Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr Collins, for she vows she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have her"
Mr Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by her communication.
"I have not the pleasure of understanding you." Said he, when she had finished her speech. "Of what are you talking?"
"Of Mr Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr Collins, and Mr Collins begins to say he will not have Lizzy."
"And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems like an hopeless business."
"Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him."
"Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion."
Mrs Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the library.
"Come here, child," cried her father as she appeared. "I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?" Elizabeth replied that it was. "Very well - and this offer of marriage you have refused?"
"I have, sir."
"Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs Bennet?"
"Yes, or I will never see her again."
"An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr Collins, and I will never see you again if you do."
Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion from such a beginning"
And nor can I, every time I read it. The humour in Pride and Prejudice does not come from laboriously constructed jokes or obvious farce, but springs naturally from the interaction of the characters, the words and mannerisms of those of them lost in folly and the interjection of sharper commentary from the more acute, and of the voice of the narrator. While it never provokes the reader to laugh out loud, it rewards him or her every time with a smile of happy appreciation at the faultless prose and penetrating wit.
I think that perhaps that was the reason I was underawed the first time I read the book. The subtlety of it is such that it only truly penetrates (certainly matter so dense as my skull) after repeated exposure. Now I read each chapter, waiting eagerly for the next fatuous utterance from Mr Collins, for the next gem of acuity and wit from Lizzy or Mr Bennet.
Despite the fact that the book is set in a time and place far removed from this modern world, the book has a timelessness that preserves its relevance. Certainly, there are facets of it that seem odd. Jane Bennet being laid up in bed for three days with a cold, with solicitous friends and relatives cooing over her cannot but raise an eyebrow among those of us accustomed to struggling to work with all manner of ailments without eliciting a flicker of sympathy. The lack of physicality among any of the wooing couples (with the exception of two, who are thereafter censured and despised for their descent into vice) also seem almost painfully old-fashioned in this day and age. But in Eliza and Darcy's journey toward the ultimate "connubial felicity", in their learning from each other that, on one hand, where there is real superiority of mind pride will not necessarily always be under good regulation, and on the other, that there is such a thing as trying to be too clever by half, there is a sound caution against the human inclination to judge too hastily or too harshly which we would all do well to heed.
Pride and Prejudice recently came second in the BBC's "The Big Read". It was beaten to the top by The Lord of the Rings. Now, I love The Lord of the Rings, but, I must say, Austen was robbed. Nothing against the wizards in pointy hats and the little men with furry feet, but they don't really stack up against the wit and the wisdom that saturate this timeless love story.
Summary: Classic love story laced with wit and wisdom
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