Following our
discussion today, I realize that I am actually annoyed that Austen’s heroines always
owe tremendous debts to their future husbands. The leveling field just never seems
fair. The valued love appears as always born out of the women’s sense of “gratitude”;
a sort of vulnerability and “sensible” recognition of obligation or luck. This
might not be a bad thing, especially considering the superficiality of some of
the more peripheral marriages in her novels (Lydia-Wickham), but it somehow
bothers me. I know, I know, historical context, women with no legal standing
wanting security, etc., etc… But, speaking of the psychological premises upon
which Hume wants us to ground sound judgments, the heroines’ bases always seem
to be tainted with the pressure of looking up to these men, for better or for
worse.
Northanger
Abbey overwhelms Catherine Morland and she swoons at how much more
knowledgeable and sophisticated Henry is compared to her. As if these
advantages weren’t enough, he forgives her for having suspected Colonel Tilney
of being a Gothic villain. She is forever indebted to her superior then, who
acted gracefully facing his lesser. If she had not submitted already, now she
vows to. Meanwhile, the smart Elinor Dashwood loves Edward from the start and
although she actually owes him nothing, the very fact that he chooses her over
a competitor, Lucy, makes her infinitely happy and grateful to have him (even
though he has been nothing but ambiguous and passive throughout the story). He
flirted with Elinor while he was still engaged, but because he steps up at the
very end, and is willing to upset his mother again in order to marry her, the latter is overjoyed. Her naïve and
dramatic sister, Marianne, realizes she has transgressed and has been punished
for going after what she wanted: a passion-filled relationship. She has been
taught a lesson then and bends to what everyone else tells her to do. Marrying
Brandon is almost necessary after all the good things he has done for their
family, whether taking care of her mother and sister, or just being a more
loyal man to them than Willoughby. She owes Brandon a lot.
Just as we get to our
most eligible and independently spirited heroine, Liz Bennett, we also get the
greatest indebtedness of all so far. With Liz, the gratitude is just overwhelming
to her; not only does Darcy take her back after she refuses him, but he saves
Lydia from total dishonor, and pays for everything. Even in the beginning, she
cannot imagine that a man of his standing would be staring at her for any other
reason than disgust; she is therefore lucky that it is for a pleasing reason. She
is like the wild horse Darcy has broken or tamed. I’m not saying that she does
not teach him anything, but he definitely does a lot more for her. Jane, the
beautiful and sweet one (the perfect woman of the day), also keeps repeating
how “lucky” she feels that Bingley has selected her and cannot believe it even
after he proposes. His wealth, charm and superior social standing make it
impossible for her to even fathom that he is the “lucky” one to have deserved
her attention.
We have only started Mansfield Park, but looking at Austen’s pattern (the first guy that
establishes an intriguing rapport with the heroine is usually the one she will
end up with), I expect that Fanny will feel extremely “grateful” and “lucky”
that Edmund picked her. This might just be the pinnacle of gratitude
experienced by any heroine so far. From the start, from the tender age of nine,
Edmund is her savior. Not only is she emotionally broken, and therefore
malleable, but she is also at a ripe age for total conditioning, unlike the
other heroines. Looking at her traumatized sense of self-worth, she is destined
to be infinitely submissive toward any man that shows her a small act of
kindness, thinking: “wow, he must be a hero of beneficence if he likes me since
I am obviously nothing more than an abysmal charity case...”
Ok, so I am sounding super
cynical. I know. But, the happiness of the endings does seem to stem from the
heroines’ excitement of having been “chosen”, as if they never thought they could
have been the picked in the first
place. I mean, this “blessed and humbled” gratitude works better than having
the women being beaten or chained into an agreement. Granted, the heroines are
happily “grateful” and seem to accept their marital obligation as a blessing. No,
I am not saying that gratitude is
manipulative coercion. But, as grateful as they are, the heroines never seem to
fully acknowledge their own worth and view men’s proposals as a saving grace in
which they don’t recognize their own agency. I don’t know if what I’m arguing
for is even realistic or reasonable in the historical setting that we are
observing. Yet, I just feel that these heroines acts’ of courage come in accepting
their men and giving up who they are before even valuing themselves. Moreover,
they seem to desire inferiority to their husbands in some way because they need
to look up to them. And, perhaps that is what I recognize still in women today:
this eagerness to be dominated in the midst of insecurity over our own power. I
don’t really know what I am getting at anymore or what I am revealing or
disclosing, but I do feel that this concept of female gratitude is loaded with
shades of gray.
I wonder how much of this imbalance might also come from our inaccessibility to the men's thoughts in any of these novels. All we know of them is what they say directly to other characters. So though we don't get any scenes in which the men express their happiness or gratitude in finally getting the girl, I'm not sure if that's enough to say that they don't have any. I would think-perhaps wishfully- that Darcy, Bingley, Colonel Brandon (men who had to wait for their women) would at a minimum consider themselves lucky to win her love. I agree that the women do seem especially grateful and that such talk is still very common today (i.e. what does he see in me? he's so out of my league, etc.) but I think it could go both ways and is just highlighted in the women because that's who our narrator(s) follow. We also don't get into the minds of any men who marry up and are more dependent on the woman for her money than she is, though that might also create for a more grateful male.
ReplyDeleteI think that this is definitely a fair point. Yet, I feel tat Henry Tilney grew into affection for Miss Morland out of flattery and boredom. I'm not saying he's not happy in the end but he just has a lot more to offer to Catherine than she does to him; there is great inequality between them and this seems valued as a positive for women. The same happens with Marianne, Liz (even though she is awesome), and Jane. The only case where I don't see this is with Elinor and Edward. And, in this case, I am disappointed because I feel that Elinor does not feel she is worthy of any better choice. She settles on what seems accessible. And, when Edward misbehaves, she still considers him blameless and feels so lucky that he will still have her. I'm sure he also feels very grateful that she will take him back and that we just don't get his perspective... But somehow, I feel like he would be relieved to have her in the sense that he doesn't want any trouble in life and she is a good option for that: easy to get and easy to get along with. And maybe, I'm being way too harsh on him haha...
DeleteI've always been really interested by "gratitude" in Austen's novels, and I think the word appears more in MP than anywhere else. (I think its presence is part of what makes the novel so dark and oppressive...gratitude really is a _weight_.) Gratitude as a concept interests me because of its connections to emotion *and* finance--there is an obvious economic component to gratitude that you see in figurative uses of "indebtedness." MP makes the emotional and economic aspects of gratitude align: Fanny is so grateful because she does rely on her rich cousins for everything (as Mrs. Norris is only too ready to publicize). It might be interesting for you to track the appearance of "ingratitude" in this novel, to see how / when that opposite term is used...always in the context of marriage? How "ingratitude" is interpreted by other characters might help explain in a roundabout way what is at stake for Austen in assertions of "gratitude."
ReplyDeleteThe word “gratitude” becomes interesting to explore in Austen’s novels, especially towards the end of the story line. When I was reading your blog, I thought about the only hero, Mr. Tilney, who feels “gratitude” (and forced to reward the heroine) towards Catherine Morland because of the way she was thrown out of the abbey by General Tilney. When he comes to the rescue of an insipid Catherine, who is relocated to her home the narration at this point in the novel feels slow and awkward to the reader because everything is imbalanced. The heroine should be about to marry her future husband at this point in the novel. I understand why for many readers, including my classmates, the last few chapters are too funky.
ReplyDeleteThe narrator seems to put words in the hero’s mouth, and makes the ending feel disjointed. It’s something that you have mentioned before in your first blog post on Northanger Abbey. I believe the word “gratitude” is taken out of context in the case of Henry because the word is mentioned by the narrator. When Henry is about to propose to Catherine, he feels obligated to marry Catherine by the improper decorum showcased by General Tilney. “Bounded” and “Gratitude” are very distinct in their meaning. It’s also quite interesting how the narrator describes Henry’s state of mind as feeling “unjustifiable angry” at the moment he proposes to Catherine. Can it be possible that other heroes (and even heroines) feel bounded instead of gratitude? But it’s not explicitly suggested? I get the feeling Austen understands she needs to use a flowery word because after all it’s a book about manners.