
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
My feelings have changed. Twice.
When I first read this in college, it was my favorite Jane Austen novel. (Out of 5; I didn't read Northanger Abbey for a a long time.) I'm not sure why I connected with it then. I didn't really even understand for much of the novel that Fanny really liked Edmund in that way since they were first cousins, and I didn't think that was allowed... But I identified with the main characters pretty easily.
I reread this only once since then, maybe 20 years ago, and I found the pearl-clutching, judgmental couple unlikeable. The book was still entertaining, but I kinda liked the Crawfords better than Fanny or Edmund. I was soured by their black and white morality, which did not match my thinking at the time. (Still doesn't, technically.)
But this reread, surprising to me, gives me a different reaction. Where I once saw this story as a morality tale with Fanny and Edmund as The Most Correct Possible People, where their manner and behavior could be taken as Jane Austen's general rule for the rest of us, I now see more nuance. The author clearly has affection for all her protagonists, but they are not really much alike. I'm sure she likes Fanny, but she isn't saying (IMO, of course) that her quiet, submissive, sober style is more correct than Elizabeth's forcefulness and humor; however, I DO think she's saying that Edmund is a better fit for a girl like Fanny than Henry Crawford, for sure, or even a Darcy or Knightley.
That's not to say that good character in a possible husband isn't a prerequisite for any Austen protagonist, or that there's very much gray between good and bad characters. Maria leaves her husband with Crawford, and she will never be forgiven by her family: "Maria had destroyed her own character, and he [Sir Thomas] would not, by a vain attempt to restore what never could be restored, be affording his sanction to vice, or in seeking to lessen its disgrace..." Character is like an egg shell--it could only be broken once, and never restored.
It feels like Willoughby and Wickham (we are meant to understand) were never men of good character--they started out messed up, with nothing to destroy. It was just for the other characters to use their wits and discernment to discover what was always true and save themselves from the heartbreak of falling for their apparent goodness. Maria and (to a lesser extent) Julia were meant to turn out well, but between Mrs. Norris's spoiling and Sir Thomas's ill-timed severity, they achieved the opposite result. (Tom is a mess, too, but Edmund is not; didn't they all have the same education?) And the Crawford siblings were good people, destined for something better, but were also spoiled by the bad example of their relatives. Or so Edmund informs us.
But they were that way from the start of the novel, anyway. Mary was too motivated by money and too critical of religion (for their time), and Henry was revealed as untrustworthy by his shameless flirting with an already-engaged Maria. Only Fanny saw through it, I suppose because she was the least compromised in that way. (It still bothers me when Edmund pats himself on the back for "forming" Fanny's taste and thought. Ugh. Do you want to be her cousin, her husband, or her daddy? Pick one.)
So, to sum up--in the ethical universe of Mansfield Park (the novel), it seems that one might or might not be born with a flawed character, but even if one starts out on the proper side of that question, poor upbringing or faulty education can ruin it. Still, until you do something stupid, like commit adultery or seduce a girl, you don't absolutely destroy your (public) character. But you can't get away with fooling people forever. I think Fanny believes that compromised morality will eventually show itself, which is half the reason she resisted Henry's attention, and why she is finally vindicated when Henry screws up.
Fanny isn't alone among Austen heroines in being judgmental: Elinor judges Willoughby and her sister for their public behavior; Elizabeth misjudges Darcy for his supposed treatment of Wickham, then properly judges Wickham for his behavior; Emma judges pretty much everybody, including Frank Churchill and Mr. Elton; Anne judges her cousin, and her sister, and herself; and so on. But Fanny is especially shy compared to the others, and she is socially conservative, so out of all of those heroines, she's best matched with an Edmund. (Elinor might have liked him, too.) She isn't meant to be read as the ideal heroine. Even here, her sister Susan is seen as cooler and easier to be around. With a "more fearless disposition," "happier nerves," and "no natural timidity," she fit in well and soon became "perhaps, the most beloved of the two."
There's more nuance than my last read suggested to me, and more ways to read the apparent moralizing of the novel that so put me off that time. I feel on solid ground saying that Jane Austen approves of different kinds of people, not just one kind, and recognizes they have different needs, so that what is right for one is not right for another. But a faithful husband is always the right thing.
Lots to chew on.
I liked it.
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