Friday, October 12, 2007

Chapter Thirty-two



Originally published 11/20/2006.

In Chapter Thirty-two, we have the surprise visit of Mr. Darcy to Lizzy. It's, of course, very awkward, as Darcy has not yet reformed to be a more agreeable man. He has all the shyness that young men often have in their first romantic encounters. There are one or two points upon which I should definitely invite reader opinion.

Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor...

Mr. or Mrs. Collins would just walk in.

...As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions,...

All too readily suspected by Lizzy. Lady Catherine does indeed have a great deal for which to answer, since we will all be called to account for every word, little or great.

...when the door opened, and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room.

I imagine such a visit is about as frowned upon in today's polite circles as it was back then. Though not wishing to read today's mores back into Austenian times, the idea in courtship of not necessarily allowing the young people too much time by themselves comes to mind.

He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies were to be within.

They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergence
...

This seems a typo, but I don't have my trusty Everyman's Library edition with me. Should this be "emergency"? Absolute silence on the part of a visitor like Darcy would be awkward today as well as back then.

...recollecting when she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed:

"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?"

"Perfectly so, I thank you."


Darcy.

She found that she was to receive no other answer, and, after a short pause added:

"I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?"

"I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many friends, and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing."


Darcy.

"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there...

Lizzy here, with an assumption that stable families are better than unstable ones. The advantage, I suppose, would reside in a more constant society.

...But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep it or quit it on the same principle."

"I should not be surprised," said Darcy, "if he were to give it up as soon as any eligible purchase offers."

Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.

He took the hint,...


Darcy is clever, we recall. While he still has much to learn (very shortly!) about the kinds of things to say and not to say, he does have some very good ideas.

...and soon began with, "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."

"I believe she did--and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object."


Lizzy here, with classic understatement.

"Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife."

Darcy paying attention to the goodness of Charlotte. Charlotte is a very sensible person, as Austen herself pointed out.

"Yes, indeed, his friends...

Though perhaps not her friends.

...may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding - though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is certainly a very good match for her."

This is something of a changed Elizabeth, indeed! Lizzy was alwasy the one to exclaim against the stupidity of the match. But now, seeing Charlotte in her element, enjoying the comforts of ordering her own house, Lizzy sees the advantages of it all.

"It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends."

Darcy here, with the hubris of the rich. Back then, I'm sure that with carriages being as expensive as they were, fifty miles was only for the rich. Darcy is so used to it that he offends Lizzy, I think, with his thoughtlessness.

"An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."

Lizzy speaks from her experience, something Darcy does not quite understand.

"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance."

Darcy.

"I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family."

Lizzy continues on her tirade against the idea that fifty miles is an easy distance. At this, point, perhaps, she should have desisted, but even the most sensible people have their blind spots. For Lizzy, her prejudice against Mr. Darcy leads her to say some less than sensible things.

"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far."

Darcy offers her the honorable way out, by pretending that money has nothing to do with distance.

As he spoke there was a sort of smile which Elizabeth fancied she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and Netherfield,...

She supposes wrong, I think. This seems to me one of those male/female things. Women can often make connections men can only gasp [sic] at. Men sometimes feel that women connect things they had no business connecting. I don't think there is anything more to this comment than meets the eye, but the reader is invited to differ if they wish.

...and she blushed as she answered:

"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family...


What is the meaning here? Lizzy is referring to her statement about distance being or not being an advantage to a match. She is qualifying that statement, I think. But how is she qualifying it? Austen's trademark double negative obscures the meaning for me, at least. Reader input, please?

...The far and the near must be relative,...

True enough. She supports her claim by going into specifics.

...and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys--and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance."

Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, "
You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn."

This is utter nonsense to me. I cannot make it out at all. Any ideas?

Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and glancing over it, said, in a colder voice:

"Are you pleased with Kent?"

A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side calm and concise - and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from her walk. The tete-a-tete surprised them...


For reasons I have already mentioned.

...Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.

"What can be the meaning of this?" said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. "My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never have called us in this familiar way."


Lizzy does not exclaim against it, but gives reasonable reasons why she doesn't think so. She happens to be wrong, but I find it interesting that Lizzy appears to consider the in-loveness or not-in-loveness concerning Mr. Darcy as a matter for objective analysis, instead of "feeling her way around." I doubt many women would handle Charlotte's comment in this way.

But when Elizabeth told of his silence; it did not seem very likely, even to Charlotte's wishes, to be the case; and after various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard-table, but gentlemen cannot always be within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended him still more;...

That is, indeed, an excellent reason to seek out someone's society.

...and Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by his evident admiration of her, of her former favourite George Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners, she believed he might have the best informed mind.

But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice - a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself...


Read Desiring God, by John Piper, for why taking pleasure in the way Austen talks about would result in the kind of pleasure Fitzwilliam has, and why his society is agreeable. Fitzwilliam, for his own pleasure, takes pleasure in the company of Lizzy. This is entirely proper, and not selfish (necessarily).

...He seldom appeared really animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.

She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend's dislike would vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.

In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was beyond comparison the most pleasant man; he certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but, to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.


Is this mercenary on the part of Charlotte, or is it only a recognition that Lizzy is religious, and that she should therefore marry someone who is into church things?