For the purposes of this project, the character of Jane Austen was drawn from two sources: a very fine biography by Claire Tomalin (Tomalin, 2000) and a set of family memoires partly composed and otherwise collated by the author’s nephew, Mr. J. E. Austen-Leigh. (Austen-Leigh, 2008) The characters of the three heroines: Emma Woodhouse (Emma), Catherine Morland (Northanger Abbey) and Elizabeth Bennett (Pride and Prejudice) have, of course, been gleaned from the novels in which they appear. Film versions of the novels and a film about one particular aspect of Austen’s life have also been used as additional sources for the purposes of this project.
Given the stated purpose of the project, it was decided to start this exercise with a description of Austen’s character and to say something about how it was formed.
She was born on December 16th 1775 in the village of Steventon in Hampshire and baptised by her father, the vicar of the parish in April of the following year, the first occasion on which she was taken out of the house because it had been a very cold winter. Thus the baby, described as, having a round face, fat cheeks and bright, dark eyes, enjoyed the undivided attention (of her mother) for three cosy months in the first floor bedroom. (Tomalin, p. 3)
However, this idyllic phase came to an end when Austen was about fourteen weeks old. Having been breast-fed up until then by her mother at home, she was then handed over to a local woman in the village to be wet-nursed for as long as necessary and thereafter looked after for a year or eighteen months; until she could be more easily managed at home. This method of infant rearing was used by the Austens with all of their children and was apparently popular with many of their contemporaries. Village mothers were presumably glad of the income while the natural mothers were able to concentrate on any older children, on their husbands and on their other duties. (Tomalin, p. 6)
Modern theories regarding bonding between an infant and its primary carer would condemn this practice on the ground that it might well have negative consequences for the emotional development of the child, producing or enhancing feelings of insecurity and mistrust. It is further suggested that in some cases, this will be reflected in subsequent adult relationships. (Attachment Theory) Referring to this, Tomalin remarks that, in Jane’s case, the emotional distance between child and mother is obvious throughout her life; and not only between child and mother. The most striking aspect of Jane’s adult letters is their defensiveness. They lack tenderness towards herself as much as to others. They are the letters of someone who does not open her heart; and, in the adult who avoids intimacy, you sense the child who was uncertain where to expect love or to look for security, and armoured herself against rejection. (Tomalin, p. 7)
This was not the sole period of separation experiences by Austen as a child, she was twice sent away to boarding schools. Her reaction to this may be gauged by the following sentence written at the age of thirty-two and after hearing of two small nieces sent unwillingly to such a school. One’s heart aches for a dejected mind of eight years old. (Tomalin, p. 34) In fact, she was first sent away when she was only seven. At her first school, in Southampton she quickly caught an infectious fever brought back by troops returning from abroad, almost dying as a result. (Tomalin, p. 38) Undeterred by this, her parents, having allowed her a year at home to recover from her illness, sent her off again, this time to a school at Reading. No dramatic incidents followed but Austen’s memories of the school seem to suggest that it was at best, a harmless, slatternly place. (Tomalin, p. 44)
These further lessons in insecurity cannot have done anything to dispel any sense she might already have had of the impermanence of relationships and the unreliability of love.
Even so, both the biography and the memoir referred to in the Introduction contain many examples of Austen’s loving attention to children and, in varying degrees, to her siblings and some of her cousins. In the memoire, the author describes the varying degrees of affection she showed to these diverse people. From his observations and from those of other family members whom he quotes, a kind of ranking of affection emerges. There would seem to be no doubt that her sister Cassandra held first place in her heart, after which came her other siblings, her cousin Eliza Hancock, her parents and then all the numerous nieces and nephews of her very large extended family. (Austen-Leigh, 2008)
There is no doubt that she could love but it is also clear that in each of these relationships she remained independent, giving what she gave on her own terms, perhaps, as a result of her youthful experiences. By the time the memoire came to be written, that was the settled pattern of Austen’s life but there is reason to believe that it might have been otherwise for, even if she were, armoured against rejection, an event occurred when she was twenty-years old which might have altered the course of her life. On this single occasion she overcame whatever psychological mechanisms usually held her back and risked rejection by engaging in an intimate relationship. In a letter dated January 9th 1796, Austen sent birthday greetings to her sister, referred to some other matters and then wrote of a young man whom she had just met. His name was Tom Lefroy; he was a cousin of the Lefroys, neighbours and friends of the Austens, and was down in Hampshire for a three-week Christmas holiday. He came from Limerick, had been called to the Bar in London and was clever and charming. (Tomalin, p. 115) After this, writes Tomalin, Tom Lefroy keeps putting in more and more appearances in her letters. From many other references in further letters between the sisters, it is clear that, for a time, Austen was in love with Tom Lefroy and he with her. But the match was impossible; he had no disposable income and neither did she. He returned to London and it seems unlikely that they ever met again. (Tomalin, p. 121) The film, Becoming Jane provides an acceptable version of the beginning of this relationship but adds an implausible ending. (Jerrold, 2006) Nevertheless, the film’s portrayal of Austen as an intelligent, opinionated and determined young woman is more accurate than that perpetuated by succeeding generations of critics who seem to have been bent on presenting her as irredeemably insipid.
Austen was one of eight children, her parents had many relatives, and there were innumerable cousins and friends. Visiting local or distant relatives and friends was a frequent pastime. Six of her siblings were boys, four of them older that she. For a while, her father ran a preparatory school for boys at the parsonage and several of the pupils were boarders, who were, it seems, treated as extra members of the family. (Tomalin, p. 25) Austen was easy with boys, was not shy, played cricket and baseball and, as a child, ran wild in the fields. All this seems to have produced a tough, outgoing, self-reliant child who was never tongue-tied and one with an extremely wide circle of friends, both intimate and slight. As an adult she retained these qualities but added to them an extraordinary ability to understand people and to portray them upon the page.
The Austen found in the biography and in the memoires is a different creature than might have been imagined by generations of readers who, relying for their image of her on the deceptions practiced by critics, have seen forced to picture her as a rather retired lady who invented stories as a kind of hobby; perhaps instead of drawing or making music. More recent scholarship has revealed the entirely unordinary life she led and provided a glimpse into the creative processes of this extraordinarily resilient and talented writer.
When the book opens, Emma is twenty-years old, beautiful, intelligent diligent and independently wealthy, money having been settled on her in her infancy. She is living with her father, an extremely retiring old gentleman whose hypochondriacal tendencies make him anxious about going out and so he prefers to entertain at home. Emma’s mother is dead and her ex-governess, Miss Taylor, recently married. Her only sibling, her sister Isabella, is married and living with her husband, John, and their children in London. Therefore, Emma and her father are the only family members living at Hartfield, their large county house.
A recent film treatment of the story opens with the marriage of Miss Taylor to Mr. Weston, a marriage for which Emma claims to have brought about, or at least fostered. (McGrath, 2003) And here another aspect of her character is revealed, she persists that her own judgement is impeccable. Acting on this, and in spite of entreaties of her friends too desist, she is determined to arrange a marriage between the young vicar of the parish and her own new protégé, Harriet Smith. Emma has taken Harriet up as a good cause in much the spirit as she delivers food to the poor, as one doing a service to unfortunates who cannot help themselves. She explains to her father and to their friend Mr. Knightly, that she is sure that Mr. Elton would be glad of her help because, referring to the marriage ceremony just performed for Miss Taylor and Mr. Weston, when he was joining their hands today, he looked so very much as if her would like the same kind office done for him. I think very well of Mr. Elton and this is the only way I have of doing him a service. (Austen, Emma, p. 11)
Harriet Smith’s parentage is a mystery. In the subtle language of the period, she is described as the natural child of somebody. (Austen, Emma, p. 19) It is probable that her father is a gentleman and a man of means because her education and her living expenses have all been provided for, although anonymously. She is beautiful, intelligent enough, and without affectation. She has become acquainted with a young, well set-up, local yeoman farmer who has fallen in love with her and wants to marry her. Harriet is not averse to the idea but the notion of being in love is so new to her that she asks Emma for advice. Emma dissuades her from accepting the proposal. Emma is aware of and usually honours the fine distinctions between the social classes but acting on a whim, has decided to promote the unfortunate Harriet to the gentry by arranging her marriage with the unsuspecting Mr. Elton.
This she tries to do with results both comic and almost tragic. Mr. Elton eventually confesses that he had never thought anything of Miss Smith except as an adjunct to Emma herself for whom he has developed a passion. Emma is distressed by this but worse is to follow. Harriet, with, as she mistakenly thinks, Emma’s encouragement; feels herself to be in love with Mr. Knightly, a circumstance which, when she confesses it to Emma, sends that lady into a passion of regret, for at that moment, Emma realises that her own feelings for gentleman are far from being almost-sisterly as she has up to that time thought., Mr. Knightly, she thinks, must marry no one but herself. (Austen, Emma, p. 395) This is strange because up until then she had not thought of marrying anyone because her wealth insulated her from the need to do so. But at that moment, she realises that that is not the only reason for marrying.
Social divisions and the niceties of social stratification have already been mentioned but it should be said that although Emma and her friend Mr. Knightly are aware of these distinctions, neither of them is in any sense a snob, it may be a rather fine difference to make but their attitudes as revealed elsewhere in the book, show them to be aware of these divisions but as regarding them as simply the natural order of things.
In fact Emma’s only real social sin is committed not out of snobbery but because she momentarily gives way to irritation with Miss Bates, a good soul but an inveterate chatterbox. The event is a picnic. In a weak moment, Emma suggests that a game they are playing in which one may say only three foolish things would be unfair to Miss Bates because Miss Bates would inevitably say many more than three such things. Miss Bates is devastated. Later Mr. Knightly takes Emma aside and remonstrates with her. Emma quickly recognises her fault, bitterly regrets her behaviour and enters her carriage unable even to speak. Her feelings were, combined only of anger against herself, mortification and deep concern. (Austen, Emma, p. 365)
The important thing is that Emma is young and far from fixed in her ways. As the plot advances, she grows in understanding and is glad to do so. Essentially, she is a good young woman whose only real faults of judgement are committed out of ignorance rather than snobbery or evil intent.
Emma is a long book, four hundred and seventy-one pages in the edition quoted from for the purposes of this essay. It contains many more characters, both important and minor, than can usefully be described here and many more plot twists. But the important aspects of the heroine’s character have been revealed in these few extracts from the work. When the story opens Emma is clever, wilful, good-hearted and charitable but also lacks insight and so makes mistakes, some of them harmful. But eventually she rids herself of this failure and thus becomes the person Mr. Knightly and we want her to be.
Northanger Abbey ends with a two marriages, that of Catherine Morland to Henry Tilney and that of Henry’s sister to the man whom she has wanted to marry for some time; both marriages having become possible after the objections of Tilney pere had been overcome. Such a dénouement could scarcely be more conventional for a novel of the period. In spite of that, however, Northanger Abbey is not at all typical of the novels of the period. As is the case with all of Austen’s major works; it is a very individual product. In developing the plot of the book, Austen chose to use the gothic novel as a sort of foundation for her story but to subvert or twist its plot devices for her own ends. In telling the story of Catherine Morland; of her transition from naïve young girl to more worldly wise woman, Austen manages, with her usual consummate skill, to produce in Catherine and her fellow actors in the drama, people who seem utterly real and believable but who are actually devices with which to confront not only the deficiencies of gothic novels but more particularly to illuminate many of the less edifying aspects of late eighteenth century society.
At the beginning of the book the narrator describes the domestic arrangements of the Morland family. They live in rural seclusion, Mr. Morland being a country clergyman. They are not rich but are comfortably off as Mr. Morland has, a considerable independence, besides two good livings. (Austen, Northanger Abbey, p. 5) This is just as well, for there are ten children, Catherine being the fourth eldest of them. As a child she exhibited a preference for rumbustious play as opposed to what might have been regarded as more appropriate feminine pursuits. This may have been the result of some instinct for adventure but if so it was certainly reinforced by the fact that her three preceding siblings were boys. She joined in their games with pleasure, rolled about with them, ran wildly about the countryside and was, in modern day parlance, a tomboy. But by the age of fifteen, she is seen to have changed, to have become conscious of her looks, to have begun to read novels and to, long for balls, (Austen, Northanger Abbey, p. 6)
At this stage her chosen reading material consists entirely of books that are all story – the more sensational the better – and nothing instructional. By seventeen though, she has broadened her reading to include the words of several of the then popular poets as well as some of Shakespeare’s plays, these excursions into the higher realms of literature being undertaken less for the literary merits of the works but rather for the useful quotations that they might supply to young heroines in training. Thus prepared, Catherine is ready and willing to accompany Mr. and Mrs. Allan, rich neighbours of the Morlands, when they invite her to go with them to Bath.
A recent film of Northanger Abbey (Jones, 2008) has proved of very little help so far as this project is concerned. Up until the departure for Bath, the film script, though unexceptional bears a certain resemblance to the narrative of the novel but thereafter it maintains only the loosest connection with it. The characterisation of several of the important participants is very poor and some of the plot devices are ludicrous. It is not recommended.
Almost as soon as possible after arriving at Bath, Catherine and Mrs. Allan attend their first assembly but Mrs. Allan, knowing no one in the room, cannot help Catherine to get a partner. However, when, at the next assembly, the Master of Ceremonies introduces her to a young man, Mr. Tilney, who invites her to dance, she readily assents and shows, by her ready conversation and willingness to express opinions, that although she has little knowledge of the world, she is neither shy nor timid in the presence of men.
Catherine‘s next visit to the Pump-Room is disappointing in that she does not, as she had hoped, find Mr. Tilney there but does, through the good offices of Mrs. Allan, encounter Mrs. Thorpe and her daughters, among them Isabella, three yours older than Catherine and infinitely wiser about the world. Isabella is engaged to Catherine’s brother James but at this stage in the plot, the engagement is secret. Isabella, who like all her family believes the Morlands to be rich and Catherine an heiress, immediately makes Catherine believe that she favours her above anyone else; they go about together, whisper delightedly about the shocking novels they have read or will read and spend almost every waking moment together. Catherine has no experience of people like Isabella and so does not see her flirtatiousness and archness with men for what it is and neither does she realise that the excessive praise heaped upon her by Isabella is simply a ploy to draw her into the Thorpe’s circle so that John Thorpe may court her. At this stage, Catherine is an innocent abroad.
Soon enough, John Thorpe and James Morland arrive at Bath. Henry Tilney returns to the city accompanied by his sister, Eleanor, their brother Frederick and their father General Tilney. And, as the old phrase has it, the plot then thickens considerably. After some alarming and some charming incidents Catherine has developed an intense dislike of John Thorpe, an equally strong affection and admiration for Henry Tilney, has adopted Eleanor Tilney almost as an elder sister and become distressed by Isabella’s flirting with Frederick Tilney. But in spite of the closeness she has developed with Henry and Eleanor, she is then amazed when General Tilney invites her to stay at the Abbey. She does not know that he, having been misinformed by Thorpe that she is an heiress, has become determined to engineer a marriage between herself and Henry in order to increase the family fortune. At the Abbey, Catherine has to overcome two gothic fancies before becoming perfectly rational; the first the idea that the place is haunted or at any rate a place of spooky goings on and the second, more serious notion, that General Tilney may have murdered his wife or is, perhaps, keeping her locked in a chamber, these notions being brought on by the idea that the Abbey is the sort of place where such things happen in the gothic novels she has been reading. The first notion is easily disposed of and the second with little more difficulty when Henry points out the absurdity of the idea. At this, she becomes a more or less rational being who, though still capable of being upset by Isabella’s continuing duplicity is nevertheless ready to take her place in the adult world and does so as a result of her good sense, her loyalty, her generosity and her loving heart.
In his memoire of Jane Austen, her nephew remarks on the extremely lifelike characters she created, so real, he writes, that some persons have surmised that she took her characters from individuals with whom she had been acquainted. (Austen-Leigh, p. 117) He goes on to dissent from that view but to accept that her characters are so fully rounded as to seem real. Elizabeth Bennett, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice is, perhaps one of the most realistic of Austen’s characters; her opinions and attitudes leap of the page, her fears and concerns arouse our sympathy and her outspokenness elicits applause.
Elizabeth is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Bennett of Longbourn. She has four sisters and no brothers and is the second eldest of the children. When the book opens, she is nineteen years old. The plot centres on the necessity of getting the girls well married because the Longbourn estate was left to Mr. Bennett in such a way that it cannot be inherited by a daughter and, as he has no son, it will pass, on his death, to the nearest male heir; in this case a cousin, Mr. Collins, a clergyman.
The ramifications of various romantic attachments form the substance of the plot but as ever, Austen uses these devices to illustrate the nuances of eighteenth century social and sexual politics as well providing a thoroughly entertaining narrative. Her observations on the attitudes of grandees in respect of those whom they think of as their social inferiors provoke irritation and anger in equal measure because, being largely concerned with money and the somewhat spurious notion of good breeding, they take no account of the qualities of mind and spirit possessed by those whom they regard as inferiors. Although Mr. Bennett is a country gentleman, his income from his estate is not large enough to provide his daughters with substantial dowries and so their chances of marrying well are slim.
Four men figure prominently in the narrative: Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham and Mr. Collins. Bingley and Darcy are wealthy and somewhat aristocratic, Wickham is a scoundrel and Collins is an odious toady. By the end, of the book, three of the Bennett girls are married; Jane, the eldest, to Bingley, Elizabeth to Darcy and Lydia to the scoundrel Wickham. This is not the place to rehearse the various twists of the plot which result in these marriages; it is instead the place to reveal those aspects of Elizabeth’s character which bring about the happy unions of herself and Jane to their deserving husbands and of the necessary union of their rackety youngest sister Lydia to the scoundrel Wickham.
Unlike Jane, who always sees people as essentially virtuous and is, consequently surprised to find them flawed, Elizabeth, though generally of an amiable, sunny disposition; is sharply aware of the follies and nonsense of others, and ready to censure them for those failings. (Austen, Pride and Prejudice, p. 15) She does not suffer fools at all, let alone gladly. Her response to a proposal of marriage from Mr. Collins illustrates the point. Being conscious of the correct polite forms of address on such occasions, she at first replies decorously that, while sensible of the honour of his proposal, she cannot accept it but when he stupidly persists in regarding that as a mere ploy, she drops all polite pretence and tells him in forthright language that it is impossible for her to accept his proposal because neither of them would be made happy by its acceptance. (Austen, Pride and Prejudice, p. 104)
Nor does she allow considerations of rank or wealth to deter her from speaking honestly and acting resolutely. When the august Lady Catherine de Bourgh attempts to dissuade her from becoming engaged to Mr. Darcy, and in the process tries to intimidate her and succeeds in insulting her, she answers all Her Ladyship’s remarks forthrightly and with candour. The interchange is too long to repeat minutely but its flavour may be judged from the following extracts,
Miss Bennett, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to language such as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.
But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will behaviour such as this ever induce me to be explicit.
And later on in the conversation;
Obstinate headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you……. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointments.
That will make your ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me! (Austen, Pride and Prejudice, p. 346)
But, when Elizabeth is not fighting off odious suitors or enraged relatives, she always appears cheerful and caring. She supports her foolish mother through her troubles and is able to soothe her father’s worries because although he pretends to regard his collection of daughters as all silly and ignorant, he immediately contradicts himself by saying that, Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters. (Austen, Pride and Prejudice, p. 5)
Of course, Elizabeth’s most important encounters are with Mr. Darcy who, when he first proposes marriage, insults her by referring to their unequal positions in society and lamenting that his passion forces him to beg her to marry him in spite of that difference. Her resolute and candid refusal, during which she calls him to account not only for his current behaviour but also his efforts to detach Bingley from Jane for the same reasons and also for, what she believes to be, his unjust treatment of Wickham, is a verbal tour de force. Naturally, by the end of the work, he has relinquished his conceit and recognising her real worth and she has come to return his love and so the piece ends happily.
A word about the six-part BBC television dramatisation of the novel: it is generally acknowledged to be a fine and accurate representation of the book, possibly because the extensive running time allows for more plot development and for the inclusion of more scenes than is possible in a single 90 minute film and partly because of the superb job done by the technical staff and the actors. In my view, it probably introduced a whole new audience to Jane Austen and, it is to be hoped, to her books.
The differences between the three heroines described here are mainly differences of wealth and status. They are all sensible and one, Elizabeth Bennett, is acknowledged to be clever. They are all warm-hearted and generously affectionate. Although they are all gentlemen’s daughters, only one, Emma Woodhouse, is independently wealthy. However, none of the others values money above love; although each remains sensible of the necessity of having enough money on which to live. Only one heroine, Catherine Morland, is described as having enjoyed some of the same childhood pleasures as Austen; the rumbustious interaction with boys, the games of cricket and baseball and the running about the fields. Luckily, she was not, it seems, subjected either to the care of a village wet-nurse or to the unhappiness of time at boarding school. Each of the women achieves union with the man whom she most admires and loves. In the cases of Catherine Morland and Elizabeth Bennett, this is achieved against familial opposition. As has been remarked, this was not the case for Austen.
Jane Austen made little money from her writing and had no other wealth. Nevertheless, she was reportedly as generous with her slender resources as she could be. More importantly, her generosity of spirit coupled with her resilience and the warmth of her personality seems to have endeared her to all of her near and distant relatives and her friends. Each of her heroines possesses all of these qualities, though in varying degrees. It is as though, Austen took herself, her own attitudes and beliefs and poured them into her creatures thus creating exemplars for women. In providing generally happy beginnings as well as happy endings for each of her heroines, she was more generous to them than fate or circumstance had been to her, the only really significant difference between Austen and her heroines.
Attachment Theory. (n.d.). Retrieved March 22, 2010, from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attachment_theory
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Austen, J. (2003). Northanger Abbey. Oxford: Oxford World Classics.
Austen, J. (2006 Edition). Pride and Prejudice. London: Headline Review.
Austen-Leigh, J. (2008). A Memoir of Jane Austen and other family recollections. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Jerrold, J. (Director). (2006). Becoming Jane [Motion Picture].
Jones, J. (Director). (2008). Northanger Abbey [Motion Picture].
McGrath, D. (Director). (2003). Emma [Motion Picture].
Tomalin, C. (2000). Jane Austen - A Life. London: Penguin.
