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One of the things we have discussed a couple times in class throughout this semester is character's actions, and their consequences. In Jane Austen's novels in particular, there seems to be a pattern in many of her characters for obliviousness. For my post this week, I wanted to capture one of the most prominent examples of this, which we only come to know as a result of Jo Baker's novel Longbourn.

In Jane Austen's novels, there are a wide variety of traits that comprise her heroines. Some are outspoken (Elizabeth Bennet, Emma Woodhouse, Marianne Dashwood), while some prefer to keep their ideas more to themselves, (Fanny Price, Catherine Morland, Jane Bennet). However, in all of these women, there are still a number of traits that surround them, namely they are all very well liked and well mannered.

Even when Austen's characters are without means, they are always with grace. Elizabeth Bennet is likely the most well known of these, and yet, in the novel Longbourn, the reader is confronted with an alternative viewpoint. Is Lizzie Bennet really only kind and thoughtful for those around her, or does she too carry her own blindness and prejudice?

In my meme I hoped to capture an ironic picture of Lizzie's deficiencies, given that it is also one of the most defining moments in the novel. When Elizabeth Bennet shares the story of walking to Netherfield Park, the reader is endeared. Here is a woman of total grace who would gladly walk the two miles it would take in the rain, simply so she would not inconvenience anyone else by riding. It is this thoughtfulness that endears both the reader, and Mr. Darcy to her and sets the scene for her romance. A woman who has means but does not feel compelled to use them, even reasonably so, totally enchants the man with everything to give.

In Longbourn however, this scene is not looked upon with so much favor. Indeed, from Sarah's perspective, Elizabeth's stroll is decidedly more careless and conceited than it is cute. The reader leans that it is not Elizabeth who will have to deal with the consequences of her muddy jaunt. Instead, a young servant named Sarah with little to no money and no time for strolling to palaces to entertain others will be forced to spend hours cleaning it for her. In fact, it is made rather obvious that the inconvenience that would have been fetching a coachmen for a horse would not have taken half the time or energy cleaning the dress required.

I do not think this circumstance should be used to frown upon Elizabeth Bennet entirely, however, I find that it is curious. Especially given our reading of Mansfield Park in class, more specifically our discussion on the Thomas's work in the slave trade, I believe there's a great deal to be said about awareness. Austen's heroines all experience immense privilege in their stories, each of them profiting off the work of someone else. None of them ever even thinking to put in such work themselves. They also never truly reflect with gratitude over those who do.

I believe Elizabeth Bennet can still be our charming protagonist within whom many can see their own selves, however, I hope she can come with a grain of salt. Elizabeth is, in many ways, a victim of the patriarchy, poverty, and oppression. However her experiences are also no where near what they could be, and what they were for thousands of women of her age. And it should be important that we recognize that as well. There is beauty in taking advantage of the moments you are given, however, there was nothing stopping Elizabeth from washing the dirty dress herself.

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For this week's Tumblr, I've selected a meme I found on Pinterest, originally cut from a clip of the TV series "The Office" and adapted by janeaustengeeks online. I've selected this image in particular because it encapsulates my feelings about Mansfield Park perfectly.

In class last week we spent a significant amount of time discussing whether or not characters could be considered stagnant or growing in the novel, particularly when it came to Fanny. Much of everyone's reservations about the novel had to do with Fanny's stagnation and how, on the whole, her character makes very few changes from start to end. Fanny begins the book a quiet, shy girl who is hopelessly trapped in an unrequited love for her cousin. At the end of the novel, the point could easily be made that Fanny is still that same quiet and shy girl, while the only real difference she faces, is Edmund's growing affection. This, among other traits, could at times make Fanny a tiresome heroine to follow.

However there was one hope (at least for me) in this novel for some development. Before I expand though, I would like to clarify that morally, I find it extremely tedious when a woman's only growth, salvation, happiness is dependent on her connection to a man. I am in no way advocating that Fanny could not have, or should not have been able to find such things on her own independent of a man. But as everyone who has read Mansfield Park will likely note, Fanny does not do that when given the opportunity. There is a lot of room for growth throughout the novel and a lot of confidence builders Fanny could have taken that she chose not to. The largest of which I believe was Henry Crawford.

Henry is an obnoxious player and flirt for the first third of the novel. I genuinely hated him during that period. But Henry is also the only character in the novel to express any sort of growth. He is the only person who condemns their previous behavior and endeavors to do better with his future. He is a confident, wealthy, and relatively good man from a good family. My biggest disappointment with Austen's writing in this book is that she did not use Henry's infatuation to teach Fanny her power and show her worth.

Henry and Fanny had the opportunity to be ludicrously happy together. In the novel, Henry repeatedly says that he finds each of Fanny's interests alarmingly endearing and he would gladly follow her around willingly for the rest of his life, if only she asked him to. No, I also am not in favor of subjugating men entirely and eliminating their voices everywhere to elevate women. But I do believe that their relationship had the potential to show each of them a greater worth in themselves than they might otherwise have found. Fanny might have shown Henry that he deserved more meaningful relationships than casual affairs or gold-diggers. And Henry might have shown Fanny that despite her lower status of birth, her intelligence and compassion qualify her for a great deal more respect than her cousins and others have ever given her.

Will I get over Henry Crawford collapsing all of the progress and growth he made in Mansfield Park just to sleep with a married woman? No. But I am able to acknowledge that perhaps Austen had other plans in mind and that Edmund and Fanny compliment each other in ways that are valuable as well? If I have to, then yes.

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For this week's Tumblr, I decided to create my own meme, using the template "Flex Tape". The template of the meme is intended to represent an irony in fixing massive system failures, by simply covering them with a small piece of tape. My version of the template, is meant to illustrate how when the Betram family falls into chaos in Mansfield Park the only solution any of them come up with, is to bring Fanny Price back from Portsmouth.

I feel as though this meme is genuinely a perfect representation of the ending of Mansfield Park. Unlike in many of Jane Austen's other novels, there is not simply one conflict to arise at the end of the Mansfield Park. Nor is it just one conflict and another more insignificant problem towards the end.

No, instead of a singular or distinct climax in which the heroine must conquer some great feat, Mansfield Park is far more complex. Indeed, upon Fanny's journey to Portsmouth, everything seems to dissolve into disaster for the Bertrams. Tom grows deathly ill and they fear he will die. Edmund confesses his feelings to Mary at long last, and is totally rejected in his proposal. Henry Crawford, who has just spent days pining after Fanny, is caught in a horrible scandal with Maria Betram who is currently married to Mr. Rushwood. To make it all worse, the two run away together. Then immediately following, the Bertrams find out that Julia has also run away, but to elope with Mr. Yates.

At the end of Mansfield Park, the Bertram family is a total mess. Everything is going wrong for each of them. But it's important to recognize how each of the Bertram children were authors playing key roles in writing their own self-destruction. Apart from perhaps Tom Betram who is ill, the rest of his family are individually responsible for their own failures. For each of them, their foolishness, willful ignorance, and selfishness brought them into trouble to begin with. And yet, as the story unfolds, none of the Bertrams attempt to examine their own culpability in their downfall, and all of them look to blame some other culprit. That culprit turns out to be Fanny Price.

In the same way that we can draw irony from slapping a piece of tape over a gaping hole, there is also an irony to the Bertram's declaring that since everything was better when Fanny was there, everything will resume as such upon her return. In fact, Fanny is not really capable of healing Tom's sickness. She is not able to return Maria to her now ex-husband or even to return her proper society. She cannot correct the questionable decision Julia made in marrying Mr. Yates. And Fanny's presence cannot actually remove the pain that Edmund's infatuation with a manipulative Mary led him to.

Even so, Mansfield Park is a Jane Austen novel, which requires resolution to all conflicts at its close. Upon Fanny's return, everything does indeed seem to fall together again. Though each character is deeply changed in their own way, they all each experience a relative peace as they come together in a new form. I do wonder if all of their developments can truly be attributed to Fanny's presence, or if they will truly be long lasting. As readers, we cannot really know, but it's clear that the Betram's think so, and it seems that Austen does as well.

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For my post this week, I've taken an adaptation of the meme template "The Ideal Man" with the addition of only "Is Not Edmund Bertram".

I would like to preface the following Tumblr post by saying that I have done my best to find Austen's love interest in Mansfield Park appealing, however at approximately 90% through with the novel, I can confidently say that I am failing. This is for a number of reasons, the least of which not being Edmund as a character.

Mansfield Park is a novel cherished by readers particularly because of how different it is from Austen's other tales. In many ways, this is a beautiful thing. Where extroverted readers may find common ground with the audacious Elizabeth Bennet or the determined Elenor Dashwood, Fanny Price speaks to a different audience. For Fanny Price, her novel speaks to those in need of appreciating their own self-worth. Fanny grew up in a home where the only lesson she was taught with enthusiasm was that she was lesser than her cousins. The only message her aunt ingrained into her from age ten, was that she deserved nothing, and must be grateful for everything. This, I believe is the reason Fanny Price is convinced her "Ideal Man" is Edmund Betram.

Because when one dissects Edmund Betram as a character, they discover that he is alarmingly stagnant in nature, and easily distracted. Indeed, he is a fickle match for Fanny Price. Throughout overlooks her. He is instead enraptured by the elusive Mary Crawford and captivated by every breath the lady breaths. While serious concerns arise, not only regarding Fanny's health, but also the dignity of his sisters, Edmund is easily persuaded to ignore them in favor of gaining a maiden's attentions. Furthermore, this never changes.

Fanny as a character is different from Austen's other heroines because she lacks confidence and determination. Despite its alarming nature, she is wholly attached to her cousin and has been from a young age. Except, unlike many other heroines of Austen's Fanny has no expectation that he would reciprocate those feelings. She is resigned to spinsterhood and thinks it is what she deserves as a poor lady.

If Mansfield Park were any of her other novels, Fanny's insecurities would be met by a man who is infatuated and dedicated to showing her worth. Mr. Darcy might go to the ends of the Earth to convince her that they are perfect compliments. But sadly it is not. And he is not. Instead Fanny Price is stuck with her cousin who views her as a younger sister and treats her as though she is forgettable and generally inconsequential. In all regards Mansfield Park is a remix of her other novels, except its leading man is without his primary endearments.

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I found this image while shuffling through Pinterest, and will attach the link for its creator at the bottom. I think this meme is perfect for my weekly post, because it accurately represents so much of what we have discussed in class with regards to people's perception of Austen's stories. Specifically it represents people's delusions about Austen's stories.

In class last week we watched the film Lost in Austen (2008) and while much of the film felt trivial because of Amanda Pierce's obstinance, it perfectly captured why Austen's work is so treasured. In the multiverse that is Jane Austen's literature, nothing is fantasy. Her characters are not strengthened by powers, talents, or tools. There is nothing physically or especially social that gives them the partiality to greatness. Yet each sentence enraptures us to want to join them on the pages ourselves.

So often critics perceive this as a lack of excitement. Nothing terribly unique happens to her heroines outside of natural domestic drama. The women grow up, meet a man, get married, and presumably die. However, for the last two centuries, people have fawned over her words endlessly. Amanda Pierce risked some sort of magical spell to join her tales. Because the power of Austen's writing is in the drama, and the subtle irony.

Austen's uniqueness comes from her ability to dress normality and beautiful. Mr. Darcy is by all means an obnoxious egotistical man for the first half of Pride and Prejudice (one could argue he is not all that different from many men on Earth today), and yet he is treasured. Because, Austen's power is her words and her subtlety irony. In the same way she is capable of twisting normal pet-peeves many people possess into annoying tropes that command whole characters, Austen is also able to twist such things to appeal to her audience.

Austen does not require special effects to make readers believe in magic. Her talent is writing it into their daily lives. Apart from immeasurable wealth, Mr. Darcy, Mr.Knightly, Edmond Thomas, and Colonel Brandon, do not possess any unique features others are not in reach of. But it is the elegance with which she writes their characters into being that lead her audience to believe they are extinct in all but our fantasies.

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In his essay Regulated Hatred, D.W. Harding closely examines Jane Austen’s text, analyzing how she dissects the world around her through her text, and most especially, how she intended for the world to dissect her text. It is common, when examining Jane Austen’s books today, to view them through the lens of our own society. Individuals condescend to understand the social dynamics that are now foreign to the majority of cultures, haughtily dismissing characters as silly, naive, or simply ignorant. Even in class discussions, we imagine characters in each book to be representative of stereotypes which might have existed in Austen’s day and age for every culture. However, Harding takes a different approach, asking readers to examine Austen’s novels from one point of view alone: Austen’s. 

Through this, he suggests that we might find not only a storyteller, but a “delicate satirist, revealing with inimitable lightness of touch the comic foibles and amiable weaknesses of the people whom she lived amongst and liked.” (Harding 6). Harding uses Austen’s world to imagine the people in her life who served as unknowing actors in her tales. He suggests each one’s behavior has been exaggerated just enough to make the character’s true identity entirely inconspicuous from whom they were inspired. And behind even this layer, lies Austen’s true interpretation of the society in which she lived, buried just poor enough to be seen, and plainly enough to be ignored. In this, Harding argues that to truly enjoy her tales, is to fall for Austen’s trap. 

Jane Austen was a successful novelist, but as an unmarried woman in the 19th century, she was still not esteemed by her peers at the time. It’s likely to assume Austen faced many struggles culturally in her life. Appealing to those around her was not easy, and Harding suggests that readers might see a form of self-projection into her work. Because of her status both as a woman and as a writer, Austen held a seemingly unique ability to critique her culture while endearing them to her. He describes how “She found people eager to laugh at faults they tolerated in themselves and their friends, so long as the faults were exaggerated and the laughter ‘good-natured’ (Harding #12). Austen could describe every tedious facet of someone that drove her mad, but so long as she amplified that trait to be comedic, no one would notice. For example, in reading her novel Pride and Prejudice, Austen’s description of Mrs. Bennet alone is clearly harsh. She holds no metaphorical punches as she declares her “a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper.” (Austen 1), however, Harding demands the audience wonder how many women in Austen’s world, Mrs. Bennet was written to describe. How many women between her own mother, sister, and acquaintances laughed at Mrs. Bennet's character, blissfully naive to how Austen perceived them similarly. 

Readers of Austen’s are often quick to view or judge her for her romantic writing or what degree of feminism she writes for. But it is curious to wonder if Austen’s novels were far more personal than only a commentary on the patriarchy. What might change in our understanding of her work if our perception of her was changed as well. Were Austen’s novels fantasies, perhaps? Or were they a projection? Maybe Austen had no desire to find love herself, but she enjoyed imagining it. Undoubtedly there are similarities between her character and the heroines she writes. Both are women who aim “to find the means for unobtrusive spiritual survival, without open conflict with friendly people around her” and over time learn new methods for managing this. However, it is curious that where Austen’s early protagonists accepted no compromise for their happiness, the last two novels she wrote conclude with their heroines conceding into their own happiness. Where we might imagine a young Austen found independence emboldening as it was for Elizabeth Bennet, Catherine Morland and Elinor Dashwood. An older Austen sought satisfaction through yielding to others’ guidance as with Emma Woodhouse and Fanny Price. 

Works Cited

Austen, Jane. Pride and prejudice. Edited by Vivien Jones, Penguin Publishing Group, 2003.

Harding, D. W. Regulated Hatred and Other Essays on Jane Austen. Edited by Monica Lawlor, Bloomsbury Academic, 1998.

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The image above is a parody of a scene from the TV show The Office which I found on Pinterest. I adapted parts it to fit a model for the Pride and Prejudice fan fiction I read over the weekend called An Ever Fixed Mark, by AMarguerite on the website Archive Of Our Own. The story follows an alternate universe for Pride and Prejudice in which on every persons (I want to say 16th), birthday, the first name of their soulmate appears on their wrist.

The meme above is a characterization of a scenario from the story in which Elizabeth Bennet finds the name Fitzwilliam written on her wrist. In the same way, Mr. Darcy's cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam finds the name Bennet written on his wrist. When the two meet at Lady Catherine's home, they immediately assume that they must be a unique scenario of matched surnames. It's a relief to both to know at last. Particularly for Colonel Fitzwilliam who has been cast out by much of his family because of his wrist. In the story, Fitzwilliam explains how, upon seeing the name Bennet on his 16th birthday, all of his family assumed he was gay (he is), and were horrified by the prospect that his soulmate would be a man. Despite Fitzwilliams adamant protests that such was not the case (it is), his family turned away from him.

Upon meeting Elizabeth Bennet and hearing her name, Fitzwilliam is thrilled and considers her his perfect match. Upon meeting Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth, who lives in relative poverty, is equally thrilled. The two immediately get engaged. Unbeknownst to ether of them, at the same time, Colonel Fitzwilliam's cousin (Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy) is panicking in his own mind, because his wrist reads clearly the name Elizabeth. He had been trying to find a way to tell her when she met his cousin. Naturally, chaos ensues.

Although I did not have the chance to finish the story (my phone estimated it to be roughly 1,420 pages long), during the portion I was able to get through, I was able to appreciate the author's take on what you would expect to be a simple plot: soulmates destined to be together. But instead was a convoluted tale as race, gender, and sexual orientation formed barriers between characters and enabled denial that kept soulmates apart.

I found the story to be a compelling take on Jane Austen's classic because it deepened the traditions of different cultures and pit characters against one another. For example, the writer described poorer families as being more inclined to choose common names for their children because they cared primarily about finding a match, regardless of it was correct. Whereas more wealthy families were inclined to choose obscure names for their children because they were more determined that they would discover their true matches when the time came.

While typically forms of sorcery and the like were left out of 19th century novels, it is curious to imagine a world where they played a part of daily life. Even more so to contemplate how, in a world where class and wealth was considered essential, the idea of true love or finding a match may (or may not) have outweighed one another. While I wasn't able to complete the entire story over the course of the weekend, I found myself certainly intrigued and hope to finish it fully in the near future.

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When I was looking for an image to post today, I came across this this mock-conversation Mr. Darcy and a hypothetical interviewer, it's been placed atop an image of Matthew McFadyen in a conversation he had during the filming of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film. And I think while humorous and certainly an ironic representation of a conversation that might have happened between anyone and Mr. Darcy, it's also a perfect rendition of why Darcy is beloved.

This idea, which is likely impossible to imagine from this quote alone, is founded in Darcy's genuineness. Mr. Darcy is admired by readers, more so than any other of Jane Austen's love interests, I believe because he does nothing by halves.

Indeed, the very thing which draws the reader's eye to Darcy initially is his honesty, even as it is cruel. As the novel develops, Darcy does little to hide the direction of his thoughts in every interaction, and this is where he's most intriguing. In comparison with what we know of 19th century romance, especially given the other tales written by Austen, it is in this way that Darcy is an outlier. For the majority, love is a game played with cards kept close, up until the last moment. Indeed, even in Northanger Abbey where there was but one potential suitor in which Catherine felt a genuine interest, the likelihood of a marriage between her and Tilney was slim until its very occurrence.

In contrast, Darcy's emotions are worn on his sleeve. And while, from an initial review the reader would not notice his peculiarities in Pride and Prejudice, with every re-read one takes into Austen's pages, they find that he was even more overt with his emotions. Caroline Bingley, his best friend's sister was aware of his attachment to Elizabeth from the start and would tease him about it because it was so obvious to those who knew him.

Darcy, though his faults are many, is Austen's most loved male because he is also the most relatable. Darcy falls over himself constantly in his words. As the image above describes, Darcy's not always thought out in what he does (such as insulting the girl you wish to marry's family as you propose). And to many readers he is so intriguing because he is a character that feels the most real. While yes, he is a single man in possession of a good fortune, Darcy is also not without other flaws and an incredibly tactful ability to learn and forgive those who have done him wrong.

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Informal Introduction: In completing todays Tumblr, I'd first like to congratulate myself on choosing a meme, because truly, I had to make a new Pinterest board, P&P memes may be my new official passion.

Actual (Formal) Introduction:

I found this image of a retweet/imagined scenario between Elizabeth and Darcy on Pinterest (the link will be at the bottom of this). It was used as a humorous and sarcastic commentary on their relationship. When I saw it however, I thought that this image hints at one of the main qualities of Pride and Prejudice that helped make it one of her most famous, if not best, novels: feminism.

To start this analysis, I'd first point the reader back to the last Jane Austen novels we've read in class. More specifically, the dynamics between women and men in Austen's novels. We've discussed a lot about the idea of feminism in class, and one of the more reoccurring themes of those discussions, was that Austen wasn't really a feminist. And perhaps, when reading Sense and Sensibility or Northanger Abbey, that line of thinking makes sense. But I would urge someone who believes in this, to look at Pride and Prejudice and understand just why Austen is the feminine figure and power-author that she is. Because, while yes, compared to the standards of feminism that exist today, Austen's 'progressiveness' does not hold a candle. But compared to the other writers of her time, Jane Austen lead a charge of encouraging women to know they had a choice.

Because when it comes down to it, I believe this image, while a silly joke about Fitzwilliam Darcy's fear of Elizabeth and inability to speak without insulting her, is also a picture of a power dynamic that is opposite of any of Austen's other heroines. In Pride and Prejudice, what's so intriguing about Elizabeth Bennet as our heroine is that she retain's control over her life, but also her standing in society.

In both Northanger Abbey and Sense and Sensibility, the female heroines live their lives waiting for a man to step in. Catherine spends her year hoping Tilney's intentions are good, and Elinor waits for months, praying Edward Ferrars will come back to her. Both women are enchanted by their future husbands in the first 100 pages of the novel, and both women pine over those men for the remainder of their tales.

In contrast the first 100 pages of Pride and Prejudice involve Elizabeth Bennet experiencing the most male disenchantment of her life. And for much of the rest of her book Elizabeth expresses displeasure over any interaction with Darcy whenever she can. Where Elinor and Catherine wait for proposals from their dream men, Elizabeth scoffs in Darcy's face and leaves him out in the cold, horrified at his audacity.

But what's powerful about Elizabeth's role as a heroine, is that she is also a society woman. She does her family a great honor in her time in public, and she's not frivolous with her time or words. Austen's most profound statements of feminism are rooted in Darcy's infatuation with her heroine. It is not just for her good looks or gracefulness, but he loves her intelligence, her wit, and her refusal to back down to insults. Darcy's love for Elizabeth, while rooted in 19th century customs and expectations, was a strikingly progressive dynamic, that would have introduced many women of the time to the concepts of feminism.

The image above helps to showcase this because Darcy is unable to showcase his affection using just pretty words of appearance. He tries such methods, as a man of his stature would, and he's rejected. The core root of Elizabeth's feminism is that she won't settle for less. Darcy is forced to earn her trust and her appreciation through time, patience, and care. He's challenged to go above and beyond if he wants the happily ever after, not Elizabeth.

Pride and prejudice is a powerful novel for its time because it plays on the hearts of 19th century woman, respecting the values of traditional marriages through Jane and Mr. Bingly's happiness, but simultaneously introducing them to a new idea through Elizabeth and Darcy.

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I made this photo using MemeGenerator, though I could not find where the actual images originated from.

One of the critical perspectives of the novel Sense and Sensibility can be expressed through the this image and that is: how interchangeable women were in the 19th century.

Now, that is not to say that some men did not truly appreciate and value the individuality and the specific merits of their wives and the women around them. But for the most part, the reoccurring theme that's shown in Austen's novels is how in relationships, men held all the power over women.

I think this image is truly comical because it expresses a dynamic that occurs repeatedly throughout the book, but is never talked about enough. In Sense and Sensibility, Edward Ferrars has a fiancé. But while having a fiancé, he begins a sort of courtship with another woman. He is socially bound (as can be seen through the lock of Lucy's hair on his ring) to a woman, yet it is not until she discovers his relationship with Elinor and someone else's involvement that his engagement becomes public.

That information alone, is gobsmacking to me. Because, in that dynamic, it is Lucy and Elinor who face one another's frustration never Edward. In fact, the book ends, with Lucy leaving Edward (though to my ever-increasing disdain, not because he played her and Elinor, but simply for his brother's money), and Edward returning to Elinor and "graciously" asking for her hand in marriage. (Elinor accepts).

This same dynamic occurs three times, in the novel. THREE TIMES. Three. Different. Times.

We discussed in class the case of foils and screens for different characters, but what I am most curious for, is whether there is a name for the same situation being interpreted in three different ways?

When Colonel Brandon shares the story of his ex-lover and her relationship with his brother, Austen evokes sympathy from the readers. We pity the woman and her infant who the situation wronged.

When Willoughby creates this situation, by abandoning Marianne, Austen evokes anger and passion from the readers. Willoughby is the root of all evil and villainy in the world.

But when Edward commits the same crime, abandoning Elinor, it is a romantic gesture! Austen intends for us to swoon (I'm being a bit dramatic) at Edward's reappearance. He's such a gentleman for remembering the other woman with whom he was entangled!

~ "Hear not" I say! Women should leave all men behind and form their own organization! Maybe then they will understand the absurdity if we toss them aside the way they do us. (Again, dramatics. I apologize.) ~

But the literary dynamic is still curious, and perhaps essays could be written on the social cues that decide whether behavior is honorable or dishonorable. Whether character is determined once, and this is why we view some men in novels as continuously honorable. We knew Edward at the beginning to be of good character, does that decide all of his actions following to be of good character too? Is that why Austen encourages us to prefer Edward?

Or is character something that might be gained and lost over the course of time, and if this is the case, when is it best to judge a person? From the time when Colonel Brandon had first known Willoughby, he believed him to have a dishonorable character. But from the time when Marianne knew him, there was nothing to suggest otherwise, and she believed him to be honorable.

Austen's writing leaves me with infinite questions as to the perspectives and information we are to take from every lesson, but each one is undoubtedly fascinating.

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Week 2 Tumblr:

For this post, I used a meme generator to customize the "Man with Two Buttons" meme to represent Catherine Morland in her reaction to hearing about Mrs. Tilney's passing in chapter 24 of Northanger Abbey.

I think this meme perfectly encapsulates both Catherine's personality and penitent for dramatics. To the majority of people in the world, when the man you have feelings for informs you that his mother died from illness, the obvious reaction is condolences. However Catherine is very different and never fails to surprise the reader.

Throughout Jane Austen's novel Northanger Abbey, Austen builds Catherine up to be a curious creature. At times in the book, she is all too oblivious of the world happening around her. But at other times, Catherine fixates on instances which no one else would dare to notice. One of the things we discussed in class last week is Jane Austen's archetype of a heroine, and how in the beginning of Northanger Abbey Austen blatantly says that no one would ever assume Catherine to be the heroine of a novel. However reading the novel you find that Catherine is indeed a heroine in her own right. And it is almost as though this irony is what makes her so important.

Catherine is not like other girls. She does not have a set agenda of what she wants for her life. Throughout the novel, Catherine primarily abides by whatever suits her in the moment, or whatever she wants for that time. When she journeys to Northanger Abbey with the Tilney's, Catherine has expectations for what she hopes to see in their home (a gothic manor). But when she doesn't find what she hopes for, Catherine works to make the situation acceptable in her own manner. Even if that means deciding that her host is a murderer, whose wife might live in the walls of his home.

I found this meme to be a funny representation of Catherine, because the man in the second image is clearly sweating and stressed over his decision. He does not know which one to choose, even if the answer should be obvious. When Catherine visits Northanger Abbey, no one else develops even the mildest suspicions that something is amiss in the manor. The obvious initial reaction is that is a beautiful home owned by a good family who has experienced a great loss. But Catherine's penitent for absurdity shows the meaning of her character.

Perhaps she is an ironic heroine because the reader can never truly know what to anticipate from Catherine next.

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I found this quote whilst scrolling through Pinterest this week and it caught my eye because it is so thoroughly Austen.

Upon first glance, the quote is wistful. It's given by Elenor in just the fourth chapter of the book when describing the her mother and sister's outlook on the relationships. Elenor expresses just the slightest bit of envy for their ability to hope for the fruition of love and marriage. But she's plagued by the disappointment of reality and doesn't think it's wise. Throughout the novel Elenor struggles with this balance of whether you should or should not want a particular happiness and plan for your life, and she's not alone.

I believe this quote is representative of what we've talked about in class with regards to Austen's character of women. They cannot be too much or too little of any one thing. Yet perhaps it's on this sort of scale that all of her heroines exist. In Northanger Abbey, we frowned upon Isabella who was filled with too much expectation for her future. Already in Sense and Sensibility it's clear that Marianne will be a character of similar aspirations, though with a very different approach. Marianne exists more so towards a 'hopeful expectation,' while from Elenor's giving of the quote, we know that she exists only in the realm of wishing.

There's much to be said for determining the merit of a woman based on her outlook of the world, particularly when graded on their level of optimism. Is a character foolish for living with too much hope and expectation? And does Austen equate hope to being doomed in her novels, like for Isabella and Marianne? The 19th century was riddled with social minefields for women to navigate in order to secure their families, but it's a curious perspective to examine the war between wishing and wanting and what is to really come for them.

[readabookknightly]

I think this image is in many ways descriptive of Catherine's dynamic with most of the people she encounters throughout the novel, and representative her relationship with Henry Tilney.

At the start of Northanger Abbey, Catherine trusts everyone she meets almost implicitly. Austen makes in clear in her descriptions of Catherine that she is filled with an innocence and naivety.

Immediately upon meeting Isabella, Catherine believes them close friends. Where most individuals carry at least a lingering distrust of someone until their relationship further develops, Catherine's trust is given freely. And we can see this trusting dynamic develop even further as Isabella repeatedly tries to use her relationship with Catherine to gain her an advantage in meeting men. It's when she no longer has an interest in Catherine's brother that she also *coincidentally* (not coincidentally) no longer has an interest in being by Catherine's side.

Similarly, though in an even more negative way, upon meeting John Thorpe, Catherine also implicitly trusts him. This is in part a result of his relationship to Isabella. She assumes that because she feels one way towards him (platonically, if not plain annoyance), that Thorpe must feel that way as well. And when he blatantly tells her that his intentions are otherwise, she doesn't notice it.

Catherine's tendency to trust others too freely is one of her greatest faults. But I think it's also curious to note that Austen makes Henry Tinley almost her foil in that way. As this image displays, Henry's acutely aware of Catherine's obliviousness and it's through her relationship with him, that Catherine begins growing in her awareness of other people. (Perhaps almost too much occasionally, to the point where she fully distrusted the General Tilney enough to believe him a murderer).