Darcy's Possibly Happy Childhood

Because Darcy is glum and untalkative, some fan fiction tries to suggest that he has trauma.

I don't agree (and neither does Darcy, actually).

Austen siblings often have close relationships.
Henry & Eleanor Tilney protect each other,  
& their rakish brother, against their father.

It is customary to give heroes and heroines difficult family relationships. After all, it is more dramatic! And, to be fair, a number of Austen's characters do have dysfunctional home lives: Anne Elliot, Henry Tilney, Edmund Bertram, and Elizabeth herself. On the other hand, Catherine Morland, the Musgroves, Elinor's immediate family, and Emma all have good relationships with their families.

Even those without good relationships rarely spend time agonizing over their family issues--not a lot of Freudians in this crowd!

Darcy is one of Austen's characters who had a very happy childhood. His own description follows:

As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own.

In other words, Darcy's pride though partly the result of how he was raised is not in any way the result of poor treatment: neglect or abuse.

Not only is Darcy's pride not the result of poor treatment; it isn't even the result of deliberate brainwashing: "Son, you are better than anyone else; don't you forget it!" Darcy's pride is actually much closer to that described by C.S. Lewis in The Screwtape Letters. In a letter to Wormwood, Screwtape suggests how to exacerbate (spiritual) pride:

[She makes the] quite untroubled assumption that the outsiders who do not share [her beliefs] are really too stupid and ridiculous...it is not, in fact, very different from the conviction she would have felt at the age of ten that the kind of fish knives used in her father's house were the proper or normal or "real" kind, while those the neighboring families were "not real fish knives" at all. Now the element of ignorance and naivete in all this is large...

Screwtape then goes on to discuss how Wormwood can use this perspective to push the cliquey idea of "us versus them."

The attraction of a clique or set to someone like Darcy is not the attraction of being superior to others ("We are so much more beautiful, successful, likable than you"), which is the Crawfords' type of pride in Mansfield Park. For Darcy the attraction of the clique lies in MY family, MY friends, MY people versus Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine, etc. etc. etc. 

Darcy's "MY" extends from his happy childhood.

The Complications of Wickham in Death Comes to Pemberley

The excellent Matthew Rhys as Darcy

reacting to Wickham's trial.

I recently watched P.D. James' Death Comes to Pemberley. All of my comments refer to the script since I have not read the novel.

The script is fairly standard Austen lite fare--I say that fondly since I have myself produced Austen lite fare! The romance in the household centers on Georgiana, but Elizabeth and Darcy suffer through a marriage crisis that doesn't differ substantially from their pre-engagement crisis. Whether or not a rehash of previous fears and misunderstandings is likely to occur 6 years into a marriage, I'll leave to the therapists.

I found the miniseries (3 episodes equaling a total of 3 hours) engaging although the mystery itself was kind of blah.

What I liked best was the treatment of Wickham.

He's the same guy as in the original. That guy: the one who meanders through life doing whatever he wants and then being shocked, shocked! when he runs out of money and gets threatened by creditors. He has all the moral comprehension of a weasel. Though maybe that's unfair to weasels.

Death Comes to Pemberley captures this aspect of Wickham perfectly. Although I greatly admire Longbourn, I think the Wickham of Jo Baker's imagination is too vile. Wickham isn't evil. He's just the "natural man" in a waistcoat.

At the beginning of Death, when Wickham is accused of murder, Darcy's knee-jerk, automatic reaction is, "But Wickham isn't violent." Darcy knows Wickham. He knows him better than any of the Bennetts. If one needs expert advice regarding Wickham's character, Darcy is--whether he likes it or not--the best person to provide that advice. 

In fact, Death illustrates a fundamental point that I feel is often missed, especially in lite fare: Wickham was and always will be Darcy's problem. Elizabeth blames herself for involving Darcy with Wickham. But Elizabeth didn't grow up with Wickham. Darcy did.

Darcy is often painted wholly heroically: the knight in shining armor who rides to the rescue and conquers the dragon (Wickham) out of disinterested magnanimity.

In truth, as an early nineteenth century landlord, Darcy has always been responsible for Wickham. He doesn't want to be. He tries desperately to break with Wickham completely. But the guy is never going to go away--and wouldn't have even if he'd married someone other than Lydia.

Matthew Goode as Wickham reacting to Darcy.

Another interesting aspect of Wickham that appears in Death is his comment to Darcy about why he keeps returning to Pemberley's grounds. Darcy accuses him of skulking about. Throughout their conversation, Wickham has behaved per usual--blithely shrugging off his circumstances, talking ironically about his wife--but at Darcy's accusation, he abruptly turns and snaps, "It's the only place I was ever happy."

I found this believable. Utterly lacking in introspection, Wickham has no idea how to recreate the life he had when he was young. All he knows is that once upon a time, he wasn't in trouble with (1) Darcy; (2) the army; (3) creditors; (4) his extended family, etc. etc. etc. The only person who doesn't give him grief is Lydia (who is portrayed quite well in Death), and she's a tad flighty (however, she is still more loyal and less critical than anyone else in his life, so he tolerates her, which I also found believable).

There will probably always be a part of Wickham that wishes he could get back to the life he had as a kid, when all he had to do was run around a huge estate with another kid.

Of course, Wickham probably hightailed it to London as soon as he hit late adolescence ("Pemberley is  SOO boring!"), but there's no reason those two realities--I couldn't wait to get away. I can't wait to get back.--can't exist at the same time in the same person.

People are complicated, even someone as apparently shallow as Wickham.

Darcy & Lady Catherine: Chapter 11

Chapter 11 of A Man of Few Words includes the famous scene between Elizabeth and Lady Catherine where Elizabeth provides the impressive retort, "In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman's daughter; so far we are equal."

Of course A Man of Few Words doesn't show this scene directly; rather, it is related to Darcy by Lady Catherine.

Lady Catherine reporting Elizabeth's behavior

and giving her consent to the match.

The question I had to answer was why on earth would Lady Catherine rush off to tell Darcy exactly what Elizabeth said to her? Geez, is the woman so obtuse she doesn't realize she is simply tossing oil onto flames, exciting Darcy's already excited interest?

The 1940 film solved this problem by having Lady Catherine be one of those crusty sharp-tongue old ladies who secretly adore outspoken girls like Elizabeth. This is a classic type and can be used to good purpose. The 1940 film does use it to good purpose although the first time I watched it with my mother, she (a fan of the book) couldn't resist leaning over and saying, "Lady Catherine does not do this in the book."

What the original text makes clear is that Lady Catherine possesses a substantial degree of cluelessness. Her cluelessness isn't rooted in stupidity but rather in her entirely subjective version of reality. After all, only Lady Catherine could continue to tout a potential marriage between Darcy and her daughter Anne when no one, including Darcy and Anne, imagines this will ever happen.

In A Man of Few Words, I portray Darcy as not even realizing that anyone thought it would happen:

"Can you believe it?" Lady Catherine said. "[Miss Elizabeth] knows that such a connection would be improper, but she refused to deny the rumor. Yes, I can see that astonishes you." Darcy had risen and was gaping at his aunt. "An obvious falsehood, yet she refused to admit it. I explained about Anne--"

Darcy blinked, head cocked. What about Anne?

Lady Catherine coughed and waved a hand. "And she still refused to acknowledge that there is no attachment between you . . ."

But then Lady Catherine is this type of woman: enough of a hard-headed realist to avoid spouting pure fantasies but too far invested in her view of the world to invite too much challenge to those fantasies. Truth is, Mr. Collins is the best possible clergyman for such a patron!

Why It Matters That Elizabeth Likes Pemberley: Chapter 7

Chapter 7 in A Man of Few Words is the Pemberley chapter--ah, yes, that part in the BBC series where Darcy goes swimming.

Unlike the ridiculous statues in the latest movie, I consider the BBC swimming scene plausible. It does not occur in the original text, and I did not use it in A Man of Few Words. What I did try to convey--as the BBC series conveys--is how comfortable Darcy is on his own property.

Mr. Darcy shows off Pemberley.

This is so in-line with his overall behavior that whether Austen was working off observation or pure instinct, she deserves major major kudos for understanding how someone Darcy could be stiff and uncommunicative at the assembly ball and downright friendly and outgoing on his home turf.

Austen uses the housekeeper and Pemberley's grounds to clarify this; the BBC series uses the housekeeper, the swimming scene, and Darcy wandering about Pemberley with his dogs. I used Darcy doing his job as a landowner, the housekeeper, and my dad.

I've mentioned before that my dad, an introvert, is a prototype for Darcy. When Darcy and Elizabeth are waiting for the carriage to take her plus her aunt and uncle back to Lambton, my Darcy goes through the following:

"Would you like to step in?" Darcy asked, thinking he could show her the improvements he'd made to the flue in the drawing room fireplace, the latest expansion to the library. But she had already seen the house and declined. So Darcy stood beside her under the glowing summer sky and thought how marvelous it was that Elizabeth liked Pemberley.

Every time my mom reads the part about "show her the improvements," she busts out laughing.

After I wrote it, though, it did occur to me that I was making Darcy sound rather like Mr. Collins bragging about shelves in his closets; when Elizabeth visits Hunsford, Mr. Collins also shows off his house.

Mr. Collins' shelves in the closet.

And then it occurred to me that Austen never makes mistakes. Darcy does show off Pemberley just as Mr. Collins shows off the parsonage. Is Austen making a statement about men generally or is she making the comparison to tell us more about Darcy?

I think she is telling us more about Darcy. Although Elizabeth is half-joking when she says that she began to fall in love with Darcy at Pemberley, she half-isn't. As many critics have pointed out, Pemberley is Darcy. Everything and everyone about Pemberley has thrived due to Darcy's involvement, his character.

Compare this to Mr. Collins who uses his house not to illustrate his good sense (which he doesn't have) or his wife's good sense (which he doesn't appreciate) but his relationship to Lady Catherine. He also wants to make Elizabeth feel bad for "what she had lost in refusing him."

On the other hand, Darcy--who has also been rejected by Elizabeth at this point--uses the opportunity to rebuild his relationship with Elizabeth. I use the word "show off" about Darcy; it would be more accurate to say that Darcy puts his house/lands at the disposal of others. He suggests that Mr. Gardiner come and fish; he invites Elizabeth and the Gardiners in for refreshments; he eventually encourages Georgiana to invite them all for dinner. Pemberley is a place of interest and ease; it also exists in its own right as an entity. It is not there simply to bolster up Darcy's ego, something Mr. Collins would not understand.

(Male?) Communication Through the Physical: Chapter 5

In Chapter 5 of A Man of Few Words, Darcy decides to propose to Elizabeth.

This is at Rosings. In Pride & Prejudice, almost all of this section is told entirely from Elizabeth's point of view. The reader is given little internal reason to suspect Darcy's growing affection.

However, Austen has given us plenty of external hints based on Darcy's physical behavior.

One of many 10-sentence conversations at the parsonage.

I recently read an appraisal of Persuasion which argues that it is the most physical of Austen's novels--that in this final novel, Austen was finally coming around to the Bronte way of thinking in which emotion and touch carry as much weight as objective judgment.

This is sort of true but mostly not. Austen was a consistent novelist both in her vision and in her themes. And the use of the physical is used to enormous effect in Pride & Prejudice.

Take these examples of Darcy's interest that Elizabeth misses (but the reader can catch):

• Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam come to see Elizabeth, etc. soon after their arrival at Rosings (Charlotte correctly surmises that they would not have come so quickly if not for Elizabeth's presence).
• Darcy watches Elizabeth while she is speaking to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
• Darcy looks ashamed when Lady Catherine is rude to Elizabeth.
• Darcy leaves Lady Catherine to walk over to Elizabeth while she is playing.
• Darcy visits Elizabeth without the colonel (though he does expect Charlotte to be present).
• Darcy returns to the parsonage several times although "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".
• Darcy keeps visiting the same part of the park as Elizabeth.

How deftly Austen indicates our hero and heroine's complete lack of understanding! From Darcy's point of view, he might as well be standing on a roof-top, screaming, "I'm totally 100% captivated by you!!" From Elizabeth's point of view, he's acting, well, kind of weird. 

They are both intelligent, well-meaning people. One surmises that after several years of marriage, Elizabeth will learn to appreciate Darcy sitting in the same room as her mother for more than 5 seconds as a sign of enormous affection. And Darcy will learn to actually say that he thinks Elizabeth did a good job with her gifts to the servants rather than just looking appreciative.

Darcy's Friendship with Bingley: Chapter 3

Chapter 3 of A Man of Few Words, in The Gentleman the Rake, tackles Elizabeth's visit to Netherfield. I used this chapter to poke some good-natured fun at Darcy and Bingley.

Thomas Gibson as Greg:

He even looks like Darcy!

There's an episode of Dharma & Greg in which Greg plans a romantic weekend in "snow" country for Dharma, who has never seen snow. Their romantic get-away consists of him carefully planning exactly how long it will take them to reach their destination, so they can arrive in time for a romantic sunset. This means NO STOPPING. Although Dharma evinces interest in several passing sites--"Oh, that one looked good!"--Greg focuses on the road: "We have to keep to a schedule!"

Woodbury Sibs at a Site: Niagara Falls

Needless to say, this is Darcy. This is also my dad. Our road trips from New York State to California when I was growing up were carefully planned to allow for certain sites and excursions but never at the expense of our nightly reservations. I graduated high school believing that people never traveled any other way. When I planned my own cross-country trip in my early twenties, it never occurred to me to simply drive as much as I could on any given day, stop, and stay at the most convenient hostelry. One does not travel that way. One examines maps, measures distances, calculates miles per day, and makes reservations at least two months in advance.

And, truthfully, I would probably do the same thing now.

But it's still amusing.

Bingley, of course, is the exact opposite. Austen makes clear that Bingley rented Netherfield because that's what his friends--eh hem, Darcy--do: they live on big estates passed down from their parents. Austen also makes clear that Bingley doesn't have a clue what to do with a big estate.

This, however, doesn't bother Bingley in the least. Bingley is one of those annoying yet endearing people who takes life completely as it comes--"Hey, I rented Netherfield; wow, that was a riot"--yet always seems to land on his feet.  Or maybe it is just that people like Bingley take the ensuing consequences so good-naturedly that they come out seemingly unscathed.

And in all fairness, one of the nicer things about Bingley is how completely confident and content he is with himself. Bingley can brag about writing letters quickly, and Darcy can question, "What is laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone?" and Bingley can laugh and change the subject: "I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference."

There's no snideness in this last remark, by the way. Bingley is the ultimate guileless man.

For a worrier like Darcy, a friend like Bingley is enormously relaxing. For a living-in-the-present guy like Bingley, Darcy is a necessary point of stability (as Jane will also be).

It is a very believeable, and lightly drawn, relationship, proving that Austen could create strong male as well as female characters, though she did concentrate more on the latter.

(Non) Dancing Darcy: A Man of Few Words, Chapter 2

In Chapter 2, Darcy begins to mingle with Netherfield's neighbors. This is where I moved the first (of many) infamous confrontations between Darcy & Elizabeth: the scene at Lucas Lodge where she refuses to dance with him.

Despite Darcy's reluctance to dance at a non-dancing event, people in Austen's novels are constantly dancing at non-dancing events. Members of small house parties are continually pushing back the rugs, sending someone to the piano, and dancing a few reels. Dancing appears to have been the equivalent of asking, "So, what's on television?" And it would have been far more similar to watching an hour long drama than to jitterbugging for the duration of a single song.

Harker is second from Ehle after Davis.

One of my favorite scenes in the BBC Pride & Prejudice takes place at the Netherfield ball: during one of the dance scenes, you can see Susannah Harker (Jane Bennet) counting the beats. I think the actor rather than the character is doing the counting, but the bobs of her head add a neat touch of realism. The dances and reels at both balls and house parties would have involved an extensive number of steps and some could get rather complicated. They also would have lasted for twenty or more minutes. 

Darcy knows how to dance, of course, but would rather talk. However, these are relative irritations. His famous remark to Sir William Lucas, "Every savage can dance," I propose as a hopeless attempt (on Darcy's part) to stem the tide of dance-related small-talk.

For a definition of the kind of small-talk Darcy loathes, check out Data from Star Trek: TNG.

And for a futuristic Sir William, check out some more Star Trek: TNG. (Commander Hutchinson is a perfect Sir William: he loves company, he will talk about anything, and he is ultimately a kindly man.)

Quiet Darcy: A Man of Few Words, Chapter 1 continued

Darcy with a headache.

One of my major objectives in Chapter 1 was to establish my interpretation of Darcy as an introvert. This was surprisingly easy to do, not just because Austen's text supports that interpretation but because Pride & Prejudice begins with a party!

The party is the assembly ball at Meryton where Darcy makes such a bad impression. The characters present perceive Darcy as proud/unapproachable. I wrote Darcy as uneasy, uncomfortable, with the beginnings of a headache. It is very easy to mistake the latter emotions for the former attitude.

Channeling Darcy's emotions of discomfiture was remarkably easy. I grew up with a dad who would quietly, not at all rudely, slip away from parties, even in his own home, after an hour or so. A few hours of chatter was enough to fill his people quotient for the weekend, even the week.

In addition, my idea of hell is an endless cocktail party. Fire and brimstone sounds downright relaxing in comparison. I'll even take snow and ice. But people standing around with napkins and cheese cubes on sticks, discussing job promotions, car loans, vague politically-correct politics is the kind of thing that makes me want to run for cover, any cover, as quickly as possible.

Consequently, I can easily understand Darcy's curt desire to stop talking and dancing and talking, etc. etc. etc.--despite Bingley's insistence--rush home and settle down with a good book.

Notes on Man of Few Words, Chapter 1

You know you've arrived when you've got an estate.

Mr. and Mrs. Andrews by Gainsborough

In Chapter 1 of A Man of Few Words, now part of the omnibus, The Gentleman and The Rake, Darcy comes to Netherfield to visit his great friend Bingley. The Darcy of A Man of Few Words finds Bingley less concerned with estate maintenance and more concerned with attending local shindigs.

This is not because Bingley is a deliberately careless or feckless landlord. Rather, unlike Darcy, Bingley has not been raised to "the manor born." Bingley's father, who was likely in trade, used his fortune to enable his children to live and marry "up"--

Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase (my emphasis).

Bingley does eventually buy an estate near Pemberley.

It is difficult for Americans, and possibly modern Britishers, to understand the importance of land-owning to members of the nineteenth-century gentry. Although owning property was really just a glorified version of living off rents, for old families--like the Fitzwilliam Darcys--land-owning also brought with it noblesse oblige: an obligation to sustain the entire countryside. Darcy is a remnant of the squires that appear in Richardson's Pamela--a man who, to all intents and purposes, is the god of his estate and environs. Considering his power to force as much money as he wants from his land however he wants, it is to Darcy's credit that his servants and tenants admire him.

It also provides material for his behavior in A Man of Few Words, namely his drive to encourage Bingley to take an interest in Netherfield. But let's face it: 100+ years later, Bingley would be a stockbroker or a resort-owner or something far less land-oriented and far more people-oriented.

To be continued . . .

A Man of Few Words, Second Edition!

The second edition of A Man of Few Words is now available on Amazon Kindle! 

A character study, A Man of Few Words explores Jane Austen’s Fitzwilliam Darcy as he responds to canonical events within Pride & Prejudice. Darcy’s delight, heartbreak, and occasional confusion are carefully detailed. Although containing new scenes and dialog heretofore unreported, A Man of Few Words concentrates on the life-altering moments selected by Austen and remains true to Austen’s original intent. A Man of Few Words does not alter Darcy's history; rather, it reveals the mental viewpoint and cogitation of this most celebrated romantic hero. 

To clarify, the second edition contains more of Darcy's inner-life from his analysis of Mr. Bennet's character to his worries about his unmanageable hair to his in-depth reflections on the purpose of social interactions. There are a few additional scenes, but most additions focus on elucidating Darcy's character.

Currently, the second edition is only available through Kindle. It will appear on other sites, including Smashwords, at a later date.

Mr. B Speaks! can now be found on the Nook and Diesel.

Why Darcy Is Often Justified

I am in the process of revising and expanding A Man of Few Words (new edition coming soon!). As part of that process, I have been examining critical commentaries about Darcy, those I agree with and those I disagree with.

One thing I have noticed is how often (some) critics will define Darcy's behavior at the beginning of the novel entirely negatively, forgetting that Elizabeth (who believes at this point that she dislikes him and who has condemned him for various perceived faults) actually defends many of Darcy's actions in the first few chapters. A good example of this is at the Netherfield ball when Mr. Collins approaches Mr. Darcy.

"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?" [Elizabeth said.]

"Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Catherine's nephew. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'nnight."

Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, to begin the acquaintance. -- Mr. Collins listened to her with the determined air of following his own inclination.

Mr. Collins does approach Darcy. The result is Darcy's "astonishment at being so addressed." The conversation (or monologue by Mr. Collins) ends when Darcy "made him a slight bow, and moved another way."

To modern (American) minds, Darcy is just rude. Why shouldn't Mr. Collins speak to whomever he wants? However, in Darcy and Elizabeth's world, Mr. Collins is completely out-of-line.

To modernize it, imagine you attend a dinner party put on by friends. The dinner party is intended to be relaxing, fun, a good time for all. But during the evening, this one guy keeps approaching people, forcing his business cards on them, and buttonholing them into buying life insurance.

This is EXACTLY what Mr. Collins is doing. He doesn't approach Mr. Darcy out of goodwill but out of a desire to aggrandize himself. And Elizabeth is rightly mortified.

Note, too, that although she is partly mortified by the ridiculousness of Mr. Collins' conversation with Darcy (not reported here), she is mostly mortified by his decision to introduce himself. That is, despite Elizabeth's egalitarian impulses, she still accepts, even practices, the routine civilities of her society.

The appropriate course for action would be for Mr. Bennet, who has already officially met Bingley and Darcy, to do the introductions: "Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, I would like to introduce my cousin, Mr. Collins. I believe Mr. Collins has some acquaintance with your family, Mr. Darcy."

This is forestalled partly by Mr. Collins' smugness but also by Mr. Bennet's laxity. But the inappropriateness/wrongness of Mr. Collins' actions are not disputed by the characters.

What I think is in dispute is Darcy's reaction, and this is where personality (and possibly pride) come into play. If Darcy were a pure social extrovert like Bingley, he would be able to smooth over Mr. Collins' social infraction with an easy, blithe remark. But Darcy doesn't think that way. When Mr. Collins approaches him, Darcy's brain (which is wholly occupied with Elizabeth at this point) does something like this: Why is this guy talking to me? Why am I having this conversation? I shouldn't have to have this conversation! Go away! He isn't going away. I gotta get out of here. And he does. Darcy's "pride" is in not thinking beyond the temporary, annoying invasion into his space.

But even Elizabeth admits Mr. Collins invaded Darcy's space.