or, how Socially Awkward Darcy memes improved my understanding of Austen
Back in, what, September? I wrote this long thing about how LBD had made me realize that Lizzy Bennet has no idea what she’s talking about in re: other people for like the whole first half of Pride and Prejudice. (I’m the Emily of @lbdeffteedubs …bee tee dubs. Yes, #DarcyDay pushed me onto tumblr finally. What.)
I came to the conclusion that most of Austen’s books (also, I spoiled pretty much her entire oeuvre without checking whether Lexie had read them all or cared. This is the story of our friendship. I’m sorry, Lex.) are about girls learning from men who has good character and who doesn’t. I stand by this for the most part, but reading the fallout from Darcy Day, especially the Socially Awkward pic above, was a good reminder that…Darcy also basically sucks at reading characters. Or, if not in judging other peoples’ moral characters (Bingley is a good guy, Wickham’s a shiftless cad, Jane’s a decent if undemonstrative person, Elizabeth’s awesome, the rest of the Bennets are a little crazy, Caroline is shallow, and he himself is “ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers”) then in understanding their core emotional truths. Jane is reserved and he thinks she’s unfeeling; Lizzy’s fun and kind of a flirt and he just assumes she’ll be into him. Lizzy misjudges people; Darcy misunderstands them.
Darcy lacks empathy where Elizabeth lacks astuteness. Their relationship is, in part, about finding the right balance between his cynicism and her disastrous naivete, and while there is a genderedness to this polarity (and I’m not sure whether LBD is trying to flip it or not), I think that I didn’t give Austen enough credit a few months ago for doing a lot to write characters who are more complex than romanticized ideal gender roles. She does generally breaks down good judgment/good feelings along gendered lines, and it’s hard to parse how much of this is her attitude about men and women’s differing capabilities versus the social reality that men and women had different access to information. But! While her dynamics are often gendered they are not exclusively so, and in fact her sharp eye for character-driven social commentary often gives us characters who undermine the traditional gendered set-ups about who is naive and who is wise and who is emotionally tone-deaf. Charles Bingley, for example, is emotionally and morally rudderless to the point that he lets himself be talked out of love (he’s the young Anne Eliot of P&P). Knightley is the one to school Emma in Not Hurting Peoples’ Feelings. Darcy, and this is what I think Austen fully intended but the LBD has made more brilliantly clear (to me) in 4 minutes of screentime than any of the period adaptations, is perfectly endowed with looks, wealth, and breeding, and yet manages to be utterly socially hapless.
There is an age dynamic at work as well in most of the books, and this ties in with Lexie’s earlier comment about P&P as a coming-of-age story. Of course the men are universally older - in P&P I know Lizzie is 20 and Darcy I want to say is 28; Brandon has decades on Marianne and Knightley famously spends the whole book talking creepily about his teenaged memories of how cute Emma was as a baby. (Exception: Wentworth!) But there are also a few more mature women - Elinor and Anne, or even, more peripherally, the Bennets’ Aunt Gardiner or Emma’s old governess (…there is never a very wise mother, I think. How interesting. And now I’m rampantly abusing punctuation for my asides) - who accurately judge the characters AND the feelings of people and who dish this out as wise advice to their younger or more foolish relatives. I do think Austen is serious in trying to teach young, single women the object lesson that they cannot afford to misjudge characters at this crucial stage of their lives.
But ANYWAY, I think there is more of a coming-of-age element in Pride and Prejudice, outside of the romance, than I would have said a few months ago. (The fact that non-romantic coming-of-age stories with female protagonists is a pretty thin genre is part of my beef here, but that’s a discussion for another time.) Austen gets credit for not only occasionally showing women across the threshold of growing up who has learned how to tell what people really are, but for giving us heroes like Darcy who have their own interpersonal lessons to learn, about not black-boxing people based on status or mannerisms and leaping to conclusions about their inner beings based on short acquaintance. Not to mix canons horribly, but if Elizabeth has to learn sense, Darcy has to learn sensibility. And for both of them, these lessons are fundamentally about the importance of getting to know a person, instead of relying on first impressions. (see what I did there…)
Bernie pointed out in his Q&A post today that having Lizzie tell Darcy about the videos was an intentional and essential gamechanger for the narrative of this show. It also does for Darcy more plausibly what Austen asked us to believe obsessing on Elizabeth’s rejection speech (“ungentlemanlike manner”) did for him in 1812: gives him clear-eyed insight into what’s going on in her head. Lets him get to know her, really, for the first time. This is what is so great about LBD: even as the characters change in modernization, the ways in which they stay basically consistent with Austen’s exploration of people make me more aware and impressed with the depth and veracity of her work.
I was going to say it’s remarkable how much more obvious it all seems without the distraction of ascots and empire waisted gowns, but I’ve spent the last two days obsessing on Darcy’s red checked shirt, so that might not be it after all.