Book 1,085: Pride & Prejudice – Jane Austen

This was always going to be a big year for Pride and Prejudice for me. It’s the 250th anniversary of Austen’s death AND it’s the 20th anniversary of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film so of course I was going to read it at least once if not multiple times. I may still get in a cheeky re-read at the end of the year, or most likely I’ll read another adaptation.

I’ve read at least a dozen adaptations of this and for this anniversary year I sought out an LGBTQ+ adaptation for it: Most Ardently by Gabe Cole Novoa. While there were some things that I appreciated about the novel, I felt that it would’ve stood better on its own rather than a loosely inspired novel. So many others have written more successful adaptations and all have made me want to go back to the original to see what I might’ve missed or what I might notice this time.

This is Austen’s most adapted and most approachable novel. I don’t know that for sure, but it seems to be the most quoted and is by far the one that people have read if they’ve only read one. And there’s a reason for that. It’s peak Austen comedy and sarcasm, as Margaret Drabble says in the intro it’s Austen evolving from her Juvenelia of pure comedy and caricature into a more mature writer, but not having made the inward narrow focused shift to as much social commentary as she does in her later novels.

If the brightness and sparkle of the central characters account for the book’s appeal on its first impression, perhaps we do not need to look further But it has other satisfactions, and other shades. The neatness of the plot and its expert articulation have been justly admired: there are none of the uneasy shifts of focus or hasty tying or cutting of Gordian knots that mark and mar the other two early novels. Nothing here is superfluous or implausible; the story unfolds with a pleasing mixture of suspense and foreknowledge, and it fulfills all its own expectations. The shocks and surprises all make sense: when Lydia runs off with Wickham, we are surprised only that we had not seen it coming, and Darcy’s explanations of his past conduct are far more convincing than the more lurid revelations of Colonel Brandon’s in Sense and Sensibility. Almost all the characters are given space and identity, and even those who appear very sketchily, such as the indolent Mr. Hurst or the pleasant Colonel Fitzwilliam, are integrated into and play an important role in both the plot and social atmosphere. (ix, Introduction by Margaret Drabble)

It’s actually super similar to how Northanger Abbey‘s is a parody/caricature of a gothic novel and I’m sure someone so much more intelligent than me has written about whether Pride and Prejudice is a parody of a romance novel. That being said, it’s still a quick and wonderful read and has so many iconic lines and characters that it’s no question that it’s universally known.

Another similarity this go around was my response to the age of the protagonists and characters. In both Sense and Sensibility 27 is the cliff of spinsterdom and it is made clear it is not somewhere women want to go. Take this passage after Charlotte swoops in and claims Mr. Collins:

The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the occasion. The younger girls formed hopes of coming out a year or two sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid. Charlotte herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her point, and had time to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr. Collins to be sure was neither sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such disapprobation. (106)

Charlotte goes into it with her eyes wide open. She has absolutely no expectations of finding romance or a loving husband. She has found financial security. She has found a way forward that lessens the financial burden on her father and brothers. It’s calculated, it’s self-preservation and although questionable to the modern reason is probably the most sensible decision a character makes in the entire novel especially when compared to the train wreck that is Lydia and Wickham.

I don’t have any other major revelations other than that focus on Charlotte and just being shocked at how young Lydia is, but then also realizing that every single action makes sense for how young she was in the novel so like can we really be that shocked at the outcome? I won’t go into the adaptations, mostly because I haven’t watched the BBC mini-series in such a long time that it’s hard to really talk about it fairly when I watch the 2005 version pretty regularly and still feel they did a really good job of condensing the dialogue and action.

Recommendation: If you’ve never read Austen, this is still the one to start with. It has the glitz and glamour that you want in a romance novel, but if you take your time and look at the details and focus on the minor characters there’s a depth that is easily missed on a first or quick read. From a broader perspective, it would be great to see an early draft of this novel to compare it to Northanger Abbey. We know that Austen edited Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice pretty heavily for publication, but Northanger never received the same treatment. So I guess it could go that way as well. I’d love to see what she would’ve done with her maturity as a writer with that parody.

Opening Line: “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”

Closing Line: “With the Gardiners they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, rally loved them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.” (Whited out to avoid spoilers, highlight to read.)

Additional Quotes from Pride and Prejudice
“Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humor, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.” (7)

“Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation, and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.” (21)

“She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration in so great a man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine however, at last, that she drew his notice because there was a something about her more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.” (45)

“How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tired of anything than a book! WhenI have a house of my own I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” (48)

“I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others as soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.” (50-51)

“I am going to-morrow where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.” (132)

“‘I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,’ said Darcy, ‘ of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.'” (149)

“He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. I twas an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.” (154)

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” (160)

“She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man, who in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both—by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgment, information and knowledge of the world, she must have received benefit of greater importance.” (259)

“She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was rather too early to begin.” (310)

“He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before on his reading Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her some time, allowed her at last to go–saying, as she quitted the room, ‘If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.'” (315)

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.” (317)

“Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally known, her improvement was great . . . Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world . . .” (321-322)