That other Darcy debate

This is probably angry in my way and very long and quite possibly rude and I still feel the need to say it. If you think that’s going to be upsetting for you, don’t read any further. Thanks.

Why I hate Colin Firth’s Darcy

Or, recycling the meta/essay I wrote on this awhile back.

Stereotyping the Hero

The BBC’s 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice is frequently praised as the ultimate, perfect adaptation of any Austen novel. It has no flaws. It cannot possibly be improved upon – despite constantly reinforcing stereotypes of gender and appearance, often in direct contradiction of the original text.

Re-reading P&P: Chapter Four

When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much she admired him.

*yawn*

‘He is just what a young man ought to be,’ said she, ‘sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!’

Yes, he’s a sweetheart.  And I suspect, the sort of personality which is very attractive in person, but not so much on paper: that is, an actual person like Bingley would be absolutely adorable, but as a character he’s a bit weaksauce.  Sort of the reverse of Jerkass Dissonance, where a character is beloved by people who would hate him/her (but usually him) if they actually met someone who acted that way in RL.

This rant is a little ridiculous

… considering the source.  Still, I must share the sheer frustration of People Being Wrong Off the Internet.

I read Regency romances for fun.  They’re mostly horrible, and this amuses me, and some are not, and this makes me happy.  They’ve been my guilty pleasure for about ten years.

Historical accuracy is not exactly their selling point.  Because I’m me, the mistakes annoy me a little, but … come on.  Regency romance isn’t about the Regency.  Generally it’s a rather flanderized … uh … well, to be honest, it’s more like a bizarro world Theme Park version.  Most of the authors do not go for research à la Heyer.

(To clarify:  Heyer =/= research.  Heyer’s research = research like whoa.)

So most of the time I set it aside, and if I’m going to be annoyed by something, I go with the fantastically insane concoction most manage to make of racism, classism, misogyny, misandry and annoying clichés.  However, there are mistakes and then there’s being absolutely and completely wrong.  As in the one that sent me off on this in the first place:

Dear Miss Austen,

You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.  Your mastery of the English language – minor grammatical lapses notwithstanding – is all but unparalleled.  Your insight into human nature continues to boggle the mind – not merely for its breadth, but because your particular genius seems to have all but destroyed the pesky artificial barriers to understanding.  You do not throw your creations into an abyss of despair, and you do not limit them to one-dimensional symbols of some contemporary cause.  Truly, my admiration knows no bounds.

Alas, your art is so smooth and seamless, so profound, that it’s all but impossible to ignore your occasional gaffe. 

Re-reading P&P: Chapter Three

Not all that Mrs Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr Bingley. They attacked him in various ways; with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour Lady Lucas.

They’re still pretty much an undifferentiated mass.  Whatever its other flaws, I think I actually prefer P&P3‘s initial approach to them.  It was less Jane-Elizabeth-Mary-Kitty-Lydia than “the Bennet girls.”

Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party.

Hurrah!

Nothing could be more delightful!  To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr Bingley’s heart were entertained.

or alternatively, to be fond of dancing is to be fond of dancing.  Personally, I’m convinced that post-P&P Bingley would still love dancing, and post-P&P Darcy would still hate it.

“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”

“and all the others.” AHAHAHAHA.  What actually happens is unlikely enough.

In a few days Mr Bingley returned Mr Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father.

Oh, Bingley.

The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining, from an upper window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.

I love that Bingley, the ultimate nice, sweet-tempered beta male, has a flashy coat and a black horse.  Stereotypes are pwned!

An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched and already had Mrs Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping when an answer arrived which deferred it all.

oh noes!

Mr Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day, and consequently unable to accept the honour of their invitation, &c. Mrs Bennet was quite disconcerted.  She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be.

Naturally his habits should be dictated by the neighbourhood’s convenience.

Re-reading P&P: Ch 2

Mr Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr Bingley.

I never noticed that he didn’t just go, he was one of the first. I’m starting to think he’s less disinterested than he’s usually portrayed — negligent, but not exclusively so.  Perhaps it’s where the capricious thing comes in; sometimes he steps up and sometimes he doesn’t, depending on the day.

He had always intended to visit him,

So the prior discussion was entirely about screwing with Mrs Bennet’s head.  A pity he doesn’t really have an opportunity to use his powers for good.

Rereading P&P: Ch 1

As the title might imply, I’m re-reading Pride and Prejudice.  Closely.  Given that P&P is almost the entire point of this blog, I thought I might as well share my thoughts.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

So, everybody says that single rich men need to get married.

… Or, alternatively, “everybody” consists entirely of the women who need rich men to marry them; the men themselves would disagree.  Or, while the men would disagree and many of the women are out for themselves, they’re still right.

Or not.

Random Note:  Never use this sentence, or any variation of it, in fiction, articles, sequels, posts, or anything else.  Ever.

Austen fandom and prejudice

Some thoughts on prejudice in Austen fandom.

First, I’ll get my general opinions out of the way.

– Prejudice does not equal oppression.  I could be violently prejudiced against US Senators and they would still not be oppressed by me.  Their privileges of class and political power are such that it’s not possible for me to oppress them.  If you consider bigotry as a mathematical function, say, we have prejudice as an input and oppression as a (potential) output.  The constants, I suppose, are the power society allows me to realise my prejudices.  The degree of my prejudice is fairly irrelevant as far as oppression is concerned, if I am not enabled in some degree.

– Prejudice is prejudice is prejudice.  Suppose that I would have all US Senators killed, if only I could; I can’t, so my prejudice doesn’t amount to anything, practically speaking.  Would that make me less prejudiced than, say, my Anglo-American grandparents, who are passively but painfully racist?  No.  Just that I’m not oppressing anybody.

– Not all oppressions are created equal.  For example:  Polygamy jokes stopped being funny before I turned ten.  My best friend calls himself ‘Defender of the Faith’ because when he, a male atheist, talks about the religion I was brought up in, people listen.  But ultimately it’s a small part of my life, I’m not defined by it in most people’s eyes – it’s more of an annoyance, really, I get lots and lots of white privilege, and it can’t begin to approach what POC deal with every day.

– Oppression Olympics are stupid.  Not the phrase – the phrase is awesome – the, er, phenomenon.  ‘My oppression is worse than your oppression because . . .’  Your situation is not any less bad just because somebody else has it worse, even assuming they do.  And if it’s a space to discuss, say, homophobia, a straight woman saying ‘well, at least you don’t have to deal with misogyny’ is spectacularly unhelpful.  (Worse than unhelpful, actually.)

– It’s much easier to dwell on the ways we’re the victims of prejudice than to even acknowledge the ways in which we’re prejudiced against others.

Okay, soapboxing (mostly) over.  Now on to Austen fandom.

Darcyist ranting

Awhile back, somebody linked me to an Austen quiz – or I stumbled across it – or something, but anyway, I shall not post the result of it, because I am (self?)-righteously peeved.

I think all Darcyists should have a manifesto, the first line of which should be:

Darcy is NOT Heathcliff. Or Rochester. Or any other of those amoral, self-dramatising Victorian monstrosities.

To expand on that thought, the first and most obvious reasons:

(1) Darcy is a Georgian gentleman.
(2) Heathcliff is a Victorian . . . something. Gentleman somehow doesn’t seem quite the right word.

Which is to say, their social backgrounds are as utterly different as two nineteenth-century Englishmen’s could be.

The actual line of this quiz result was “After all, you like your blokes to be caring and gentle – perhaps because you know those brooding, temperamental types are more trouble than they’re worth! So stuff the Darcys and Heathcliffs”

You know, somehow it would never have crossed my mind to describe Darcy as temperamental or mercurial or whatever. Maybe it’s because Elizabeth thinks of his “usual sedateness”, or maybe because he smiles more than any other character but Elizabeth, or maybe because of how critical he is about Bingley’s impulsiveness (and that’s a far step from ‘temperamental’) — under good regulation is probably the phrase that most describes his ideal of himself. *shudder* And I thought the comparisons of Darcy to Rochester were bad! The only similarity to Heathcliff, psychopathic creep that he is, is nationality and the fact that they were both played by Laurence Olivier.

Honestly, I’m starting to wonder what book these people are reading. It isn’t mine, to be sure. I’m going to indulge in an exhaustive list of Darcyisms (from my version) just to vent: