Monday, June 28, 2010

Fickleness and Fidelity

I used a car ride home the last couple of days as an excuse to read Pride and Prejudice. For years, I've been meaning to read this classic novel, and I'll admit that my curiosity has only been piqued by the abundance of women I know who have declared their undying love for Mr. Darcy. There's little I can say that hasn't been said about the book itself. Austen is rightly celebrated for her dialog, as it brings her characters, particularly the supporting cast, to life brilliantly. Indeed, without it, the novel would mostly be flat. But it is there, so all is splendid. Tangentially, I could complain about particulars of Regency Era grammar: The awkward, unrestrained use of commas; an abuse of semicolons that puts my own to shame; and the freedom with which pronouns are used without any attempt to establish a clear antecedent...but I imagine that these aren't issues particular to Austen, and the joys far outshine the frustrations.

Since I can't really say anything that hasn't been said already about the novel as a whole, I want to focus on one tangential aspect which I already mentioned: Mr. Darcy and his seemingly universal adoration. Now, I know that I'll draw a lot of flack for this from any lady readers I may have, but I just want to say this:

Dear Darcy Devotees,

shame on you

I say this because, in many respects, there is little remarkable in Darcy. Certainly, he is generous and intelligent and believably flawed, and he goes to great lengths to provide for Lizzy's happiness; but the same can be said of any number of well written romantic leads.

If you are interested in the particulars of his character at the end of the novel, then he is simply what I would call an extended introvert. That is to say, an introvert who has realized the importance of putting on an approachable air, of reaching out to others instead of expecting them to tolerate you in the expectation that you are ultimately worth getting to know. This is a fine sort of person in my mind, but people in general still don't take too kindly to introverts. Even those who have learned to deal perfectly well with polite company and new relations rarely radiate any sort of approachability, and just as infrequently are they any good at doing the approaching. This just weirds most people out, including plenty women I know who still claim to adore Darcy.

So, it clearly isn't Darcy himself that is so much more widely loved than any other male romantic lead in literary history. This leaves us with just a handful of means of explaining the ardor so many claim to hold for him, and none of them are particularly flattering. The first two reasons are Darcy's wealth and appearance. Neither of these seem particularly likely, though. We are reminded regularly of both, but neither is an essential part of his character or a particular reason for Lizzy's love for him (even if both are contributing factors). Since it is obvious why loving Darcy for either of these reasons would be disagreeable, and since it is also a highly unlikely case that it is so, we will abandon the entire possibility.

What's left, then, is to love Darcy for his (apparent) changeability. I say this because it is Elizabeth's rebuke that leads him to see the limitations of his ways and to begin to work on his seemingly haughty tendencies. It is the way he changes as a response to his unrequited love that causes Elizabeth to eventually change her opinion of him. It could seem, therefore, that Darcy is changing for Elizabeth. I ought not need to explain how this ties in with popular cliches (the tamable bad boy) or why it's a terrible reason for being into a guy (thousands of bad, even abusive, relationships). The big problem, however, is that it's clearly a misreading.

From everything we are told from the start by those close to him, Darcy has always, at heart, been a warm and generous man. It is just that his warmth and generosity are, at first, only shared with those in whose company he is comfortable. His apparent haughtiness is, likely as not, a byproduct of a combination of natural shyness and introversion (much like his sister's) and a firm understanding of his breeding and capacities. Darcy has seemingly been told from birth that, while anybody is worthy of his charity, only certain people are worthy of his knowing -- and most of these people will want to know him well enough that they will tolerate his aloofness and mild snobbery. He sees no cause to think otherwise until he meets Elizabeth. It is important to note that he does not change for her, as suggested above. It is not a desire merely to please Elizabeth that causes him to warm to those he may have previously thought beneath his station. No, Darcy opens up because of Elizabeth. She incites in him an awareness of the value of all people, an understanding that being a gentleman does not simply mean extending basic courtesies, but extending oneself to all.

So, it really makes very little sense for you to be in love with Darcy. Darcy will not change to be what you want him to be. He will become the man he was always meant to be; and that is a man you might admire, but probably wouldn't be terribly comfortable with. It makes perfect sense to rejoice in Darcy and Elizabeth's happiness and in the unexpected felicity they find. It makes perfect sense to celebrate Darcy's goodness and generosity in acknowledging his mistakes and working to amend for them for the sake of Elizabeth's happiness. However, what makes no sense is to be in love with Darcy. Those qualities which have been mentioned as universally laudable are hardly unique to him. Personal experience tells me that precious few of you are willing to tolerate introversion and apparent pride to the degree Darcy shows it long enough to gain the intimacy to see beyond it. And if your chief desire is to love a man who loves you as totally as Darcy does Elizabeth, well, you're barking up the wrong tree for an abundance of obvious reasons.

As for those of you who haven't read Pride and Prejudice: do. It's good for you.

4 comments:

Allison said...

I feel I should first note that you're analyzing one of my favorite characters in one of my favorite books in a tone that does not leave me disposed toward a tolerant response. That being said, I will try to be moderate in what I say.

First, this "love" for Darcy is by no means unique. I have only two words to describe an ultimately creepier and stranger devotion: Edward Cullen.

Second, Darcy has one thing going for him that other introverts, however approachable, do not -- he does not need to be approached. Austen presents him to the reader, the reader has no need to approach him, and Darcy doesn't approach the reader.

I think many women like/love Darcy for the same reason that they like/love Edward Cullen, Spike or Angel in Buffy, or any number of other examples of male leads in romantic settings. They enjoy the romance -- there are not many men who claim to be romantic, or "good" at romance, in my experience -- and they enjoy the tale of a successful love story (however temporary it may be). Thus, they wish at some level to be the woman in the pairing, and thus, fixate on the man as someone they like/love. Why do you think "chick flicks" are as popular as they are? Edward Cullen fanatics aside, I think most women realize that the man they admire/love/whatever is not going to abandon his love for them -- and acknowledge that he would be less desirable if he did.

While this is not entirely admirable, I don't think it is something that should be cause for shame.

My two cents.

Walz said...

I mean no disrespect to the work itself. I enjoyed it immensely, even if there were points where I needed to read passages several times to find the proper rhythm. Also, I understand the romance aspect of it perfectly well and certainly don't think it actually shameful. Good lord, I suffer from White Knight Syndrome with such regularity that it would be absurdly hypocritical for me to do that. I just wish people would distinguish, on occasion, between adoration of individuals and adoration of ideals.

After hearing dozens of women pine specifically after Darcy, I was expecting something somewhat more extraordinary in him specifically, rather than in the story. It must simply be that the romance here is created so much more skillfully, with characters better realized that puts Darcy on such a pedestal.

As for the introversion aspect, I would simply expect women who claim to adore Darcy to be more sympathetic to, or at least more tolerant of, standoffish-ness or social discomfort. By and large, it seems that they aren't.

Finally, I seem to recall you once nearly inflicting violence on me for comparing Darcy and Edward as cultural figures -- though you are hardly alone in this regard.

Allison said...

I'm sure I'll burn in a special level of hell for even kind of comparing them. I guess the idolization is similar, but EC-fanatics just take it to a whole new level of creepy.

Also, expecting women who adore Darcy to be more sympathetic to other approachable introverts is expecting them to do as full of an analysis on the book as you have, which is more than a little bit unlikely.

Regarding Darcy + pedestal placement, I believe that's because Jane Austen was one of the first to write romance so well.

Jonathan Lovelace said...

(Donning my vestments as devil's advocate.)

First, there are lots of fairy tales and other stories in which people fall in love with someone after just seeing a portrait. It is no more irrational per se to fall in love with a fictional character. (I can think of three that I fell at least half in love with myself: Lucy Pevensie, Hermione Granger, and Elizabeth Bennett.)

Second, assuming that "falling in love" with a fictional character is merely a "crush"---from what I've read (my own experience being too limited to generalize from), crushes tend to be on someone unobtainable, with whom a romance "could never work." If, as I suspect, unobtainability correlates with crushworthiness (or whatever we call it), so that other things being equal the less possible a relationship the more likely a crush will form, the arguments you present actually help explain why Darcy is so crushed upon.

Third, Darcy is a fictional character. If someone was to imagine a relationship with him, it is eminently reasonable to imagine beginning in a position similar to Anne de Bourgh, a woman with whom he is "comfortable" but towards whom he has no romantic inclinations. Or for that matter to posit that he find himself instantly "comfortable" with the Mary Sue character. (Like one of the fan fiction stories I favor, Lasting Impressions by Pamela St. Vines, where Lizzy responds to Darcy's initial snub by teasing him back, then asking him to spend a set talking to her, rather than mocking him behind his back. And I have noticed the phenomenon of being instantly at ease with someone I've just met in my own life a few times before.)