Gentle readers: Penguin English Library is holding an Austen/Brontë smackdown on its Facebook page, with Jane Austen’s World and Christine from Bronte Blog providing the ammunition for discussion. An edited version of my smackdown sits on Facebook, the full version sits on this blog. I have added Christine’s edited defense of Charlotte Brontë below my defense of Jane. Do go over to Penguin’s Facebook page and leave your comment! You will have the chance of winning a Penguin library canvas bag! Enjoy.
Romola Garai as Emma dancing a country dance at the local assembly hall.
Vic’s Unedited Take:
I’ve been asked to participate in a smackdown, pitting Jane Austen, whose best-selling novel starts with the most memorable opening line in literature – “It is a truth universally acknowledged…” – against Charlotte Brontë, who begins Jane Eyre with a sentence that barely qualifies as a decent Facebook entry: “There was no possibility of taking a walk that day”. Good lord. GO Team Austen!
I love smart and funny women who are quick with their tongues. If our dowdy spinster from Hampshire suddenly found herself at the Algonquin Round Table in post-World War One New York city, she would have jumped into the fray and easily held her own against such rapier wits as Dorothy Parker, Harold Ross, Edna Ferber and Harpo Marx. Charlotte Brontë would have sat slack-jawed amongst such august company, waiting for a lull in the conversation before daring to venture her opinion. Had Mark Twain materialized in front of Miss Austen and threatened to personally beat her skull in with her own shin-bone, she would have swiftly retorted, “Why I now fully understand, Mr. Twain, why Mrs. Hall of Sherbourn was brought to bed of a dead child, some weeks before she expected. T’was owing to a fright — I suppose she happened unawares to look at YOU.” Austen had teeth. No wonder Pride and Prejudice was chosen for the first Zombie mash-up!
A number of Brontë fans have accused Austen of writing sterile romance novel claptrap, which means that those poor souls don’t get Austen’s ironic take on life with its underlying passions at all. Can you imagine one of Brontë’s overwrought characters coming up with the cool line that Mary Crawford uttered in Mansfield Park? “Certainly, my home at my uncle’s brought me acquainted with a circle of admirals. Of Rears, and Vices, I saw enough. Now, do not be suspecting me of a pun, I entreat.” I had been of legal drinking age for a number of years before I understood exactly what rears and vices meant!
Brontë supporters think Jane’s novels lack passion and give us no sense of the greater society in which she lived. Let’s debunk that myth, shall we? Willoughby got a girl pregnant, enticed Marianne to behave like a hoyden, then cynically married an heiress for money. Wickham attempted to seduce an underage heiress, then ran off with a lusty, empty-headed 16-year-old virgin with no intention of marrying her. Lucy Steele was a sadistic, mean, and spiteful little bitch. Mrs. Norris was a verbal abuser who could have taught Lucy a thing or two in the nasty department. Fanny Price’s mother married for love, and look where that got her – barefoot, too many times pregnant, and living like a slattern in a hovel. John Thorpe was a douche-bag, plain and simple, as was William Elliott. Then there were the silly ministers, and the neglectful husbands, like Mr. Bennet and Mr. Palmer. Last but not least, Jane handed the dreaded specter of poverty to Mrs. and Miss Bates, and Mrs. Smith, whose cheerful demeanor belied her desperate state. Interwoven through Austen’s novels are her sparkling wit and clear observations of the human character. We are treated to strong heroines like Lizzie Bennet and Anne Elliot, and to alpha males like Mr. Darcy and Colonel Brandon, who, as men of few words, sprang into selfless action when heroism was required.
Idealized romanticized image of Jane Austen.
What does Charlotte Brontë offer us? That metrosexual cold fish, St. John Rivers. And then there’s Rochester, Mr. Sturm und Drang. He was a closet whiner and complainer, I’ll warrant, who, while holding all the power cards, forced poor plain Miss Eyre to listen to his incessant self-serving monologues. I bet he wandered around his cold stone house dragging the proverbial ball and chain in the form of the hidden insane wife, and wearing an expression that shouted to all but the blind: “Woe is me. Oh, woe is pitiful, loveless me.” As my dear friend, Lady Anne, told me, “Even Austen’s bad boys are more plausible than Brontë’s heroes.”
Where Mr. Darcy took his medicine with only a minor facial tick when Lizzie dressed him down after refusing his proposal, Rochester emoted suffering morning, noon, and night. Misery must have oozed out of his pores. Those obvious ploys for sympathy worked on me when I was 14 years old, but now that I am slightly longer in the tooth I am attracted to more mentally stable men, like Mr. Darcy. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I know that Darcy’s a cool and reserved character, and a bit of a prig. Taming him would be a REAL challenge, one that Elizabeth Bennet took on with relish. Whatever you think of him, there’s no denying that Darcy’s passion for Lizzy simmered and sizzled throughout Pride and Prejudice. Austen’s writing style might be spare and cerebral, but the chemistry between her heroes and heroines leaps off the pages and keeps us enthralled.
Jane Austen’s writing desk
In closing (and here my imagination has taken over), one suspects that after their wedding, our young and virile Mr. Darcy gave Lizzie some extremely satisfying romps in bed, followed by a repeat performance or two, whereas poor Mr. Rochester – well, let’s face it – he was OLD, and his physical health was compromised by that pesky though fortuitous fire. (Deux ex machina, anyone?) My guess is that, after observing his manly duty with Mrs. Rochester, he most likely gave her a peck on the cheek before rolling to the other side of the bed and instantly falling asleep. As her husband snored contentedly, a frustrated (but romantically inclined) Jane was frequently left to lie in the dark and think of England.
Christine’s edited version:
‘In Austen, sex is just a kiss on the hand. In the Brontës, everything happens’. So says a newspaper clipping kept at the Brontë Parsonage Museum Library. After hearing that, the Brontës would get a twinkle in their eyes that would belie their quieter, Northern-lasses-from-a-parsonage appearance.
Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte herself, after reading Emma pronounced ”the passions are perfectly unknown to her, she rejects even a speaking acquaintance with that stormy Sisterhood; even to the Feelings she vouchsafes no more than an occasional graceful but distant recognition; too frequent converse with them would ruffle the smooth elegance of her progress.”
Which she corroborated after reading Pride and Prejudice: “An accurate daguerrotyped portrait of a commonplace face; a carefully fenced, highly cultivated garden, with neat borders and delicate flowers; but no glance of a bright vivid physiognomy, no open country, no fresh air, no blue hill, no bonny beck. I should hardly like to live with her ladies and gentlemen, in their elegant but confined houses”.
It’s an easy choice: either you like opening a book and gazing at a quiet and ever-green meadow, nice and lovely but always nice and lovely, sometimes too nice and too lovely or you like opening a book and looking at an ever-changing moor, sometimes bleak, sometimes radiantly in bloom, never predictable, always engaging. If you choose the latter, remember that being Team Brontë is more than a mere liking. As another newspaper said (as early as 1916): “Miss Austen and Thackeray have admirers; Charlotte Brontë has worshippers”.
Jane Austen's World 
The real differences between the two, I’ve always thought, is their understanding of what love, passion, and depth of feeling truly are. Jane’s understanding of them is a mature one; the Brontes’ is a terrifyingly adolescent one. Jane’s characters are real people you would have met (and still might) throughout your life; the Brontes’ are like Frankenstein’s monster: 100% fantasies from overwrought imaginations that believe love and passion are about the outward signs, rather than the inward effects. I would summarize all of the Bronte story lines and characters this way: severely damaged lunatics and doormats with no self control or self respect in seriously abusive relationships.
Yeah, what Stephani said!!
THey lived in different worlds. Jane lived with gentry as a rector’s daughter whose mother had noble blood. Jane lived in a harsh world also as a rector’s daughter, but in poorer circumstances surrounded by death and isolation. Consider their childhoods.
Precisely, Stephani. Well said!
Austen: Wit, wisdom, self respect, deeply felt emotion. Bronte: immature drama. No contest. Well said, Vic!
As always, your observations are spot on.
Fantastic! I also agree with the other commenters here. But Vic, what about ‘Lady Susan?’ Oh my. That was as scandalous as ‘Dangerous Liaisons!’ Nothing lovely and demure in that beauty.
Great post! I have to say however, that I am definitely Team Austen.
I find both Austen and Bronte brilliant, but also a reflection of their times. Bronte
writes in an industrialized and harsher England. It’s a darker place.
LOL!! This made me laugh….and hell yeah, GO TEAM AUSTEN! And please, anyone would rather kiss a Darcy than let ‘everything happen’ with a Rochester. Except of course, if that Rochester happens to look like Michael Fassbender in the 2011 adaptation.
Well said, Vic! I also agree w/ Stephani Miller to a degree. And LADY SUSAN is DEFINITELY an eye-opener for those who think our Jane is meek and mild!
How fascinating! And did you know that my playlet, “You are Passionate, Jane,” in which Austen and Bronte meet in Heaven (Jane is the literary gatekeeper who gets to decide which other authors Ascend), is having its premiere in Seattle on August 12, and then going on to Los Angeles? Fellow author Syrie James, whose new and truly wonderful book “The Hidden Manuscript of Jane Austen” is coming out, plays Jane Austen, dressed in elegant angelic white, while I do a turn as Charlotte (weeping and in black). I had no idea my playlet was so “in the Zeitgeist,” but I guess it is! Who knew? By the way, the title, of course, comes from Jane Eyre (Mrs. Reed says it).
Jane Austen’s books simmer below the surface, perhaps give a more accurate picture of the fact that although life is not fair, the heroines, stay true to their values and integrity, grow (mature). They are, ladies that one could hold up as true heroines and wish to emulate. The love is based in honesty and integrity and friendship, whereas the Bronte novels, though exciting, are as Chris above stated are more of the adolescent love that flares with passion, but will soon wither and die if not fanned with something deeper. Definitely Go Team Austen!!!
I can’t pick, though I re-read more of Austen’s novels than the Brontes. But, depending on my mood, I enjoy both. However, Austen’s characters tend to stay with me more than those in the Bronte books. Thanks for sharing, Vic, especially as I’m not on FB.
Can Austen match this ending?
‘ . . I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next the moor: one middle one grey, and half buried in the heath; Edgar Linton’s only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its foot; Heathcliff’s still bare.
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.’
http://www.literature.org/authors/bronte-emily/wuthering-heights/chapter-34.html
I had to look up ‘smackdown’ by the way: ‘A beating; a humiliation, decisive setback, or defeat; an instance of repression or severe treatment. Also: a confrontation; a bitter contest or rivalry.’
Not a pastime for persons of breeding, I fancy.
The smackdown title was chosen by Penguin, Christopher. I believe that the word is starting to shift meaning to describe a heated debate.
I loved the soap opera that is Wuthering Heights when I was young, but I an not tempted to reread it again. Heathcliff sets my teeth on edge and Kathy is too neurotic for my taste. Of all the Victorian novelists I like Thomas Hardy the best, although I no longer reread his novels either. It is only Jane who retains my interest as I grow older. While the writing you quoted is beautiful, I’ll take Jane’s wry observations any time!
Love this debate. Vic
This is an absolutely fantastic blog and totally fascinating. I never knew this war existed but now I do and can definitely see both sides of the arguement! PJK
“I had not seen “Pride and Prejudice,” till I read that sentence of yours, and then I got the book. And what did I find? An accurate daguerreotyped portrait of a common-place face; a carefully fenced, highly cultivated garden, with neat borders and delicate flowers; but no glance of a bright, vivid physiognomy, no open country, no fresh air, no blue hill, no bonny beck. I should hardly like to live with her ladies and gentlemen, in their elegant but confined houses.”
― Charlotte Brontë
This opinion of Jane Austen’s writing is absolutely correct . Charlotte Bronte and her sisters wrote in a style very much influenced by the Romantic movement sweeping Europe at the time. Artists novelists, poets thinkers were counteracting the scientific approach of The Enlightenment period with a response based on the emotions and imagination.. They did not want to get rid of a scientific approach but counterbalance it with a fuller rounded human response. Charlotte Bronte uses her emotions and imagination influenced by the rugged surroundings of the moors where she lived.. She and her sisters were influenced by the Romantic movement.. Jane Austen shows no emotional response to her world. She writes about relationships and her major themes are marriage inheritance and personal interactions. Charlotte Bronte would have seen this as dull and boring. These things were everyday stuff. What I think Bronte didn’t realise was that Austen was being radical by writing about and publishing a portrayal of this everyday discourse. Sometimes the ordinary when shown to the world and not kept private can be radical to. I thionnk this was where jane Austen was great, Shhe was challenging society in her way too.. It appears she knew nothing of the Romantic movement sweeping Europe. Maybe she was cocooned where she lived.
What I think is wrong is the taking of sides. People get pulled into, Austen or Bronte sides. The hysterical allegiances to Jane Austen that have been created by the commercialisation, the films, publishers and Jane Austen societies is disgraceful really. I think Jane Austen is a great writer but then I think there are other great writers too, thank goodness.
Ah, Tony, It’s all tongue in cheek! Else I wouldn’t have included my fantasy pieces.
You are correct, of course. Although taking sides is a great intellectual exercise, it doesn’t make sense in the real world of genius authors who changed the course of literature. I think Austen fans enjoy Bronte and vice versa. It’s the authors themselves, and critics, who are the most radical in taking sides.
In English class, our professor would ask us to take the other side in the next week and make an equally compelling statement. I believe I am up to the task!
What most excellent post. I enjoyed it immensely. Difficult to chose as I am a big fan of both authors. My question is, why didn’t Emily Bronte make the cut?
Penguin created the smackdown between Jane and Charlotte. It would be a bit unfair to pit one against the entire Bronte clan, though I suspect Jane is equal to the task.
Ah I see. I’ve always been taken with Wuthering Heights. I’m sure Jane could handle the face-off, though.
Is it ok for me to copy my comment from the Penguin site here? Here goes, anyway:
There is one big difference between Austen and the Brontës, and it can be distilled into one word: irony. That difference showed itself vividly in Charlotte B’s uncomprehending take on Jane’s work – Charlotte simply did not understand that it was possible for an apparently simple statement to have layers of – often violently – contradictory meanings hidden below the surface. She took Jane’s writing at face value, which is how she meant her own to be read. But even the opening words of P&P merit a double-take: is the truth really so universally acknowledged? No, of course not. Is it a truth at all? Possibly, or not. And so on. Throughout her six great novels there are constantly shifting, multi-layered moments of irony when the controlled surface of formal convention overlies the author’s and the reader’s perspectives, and the viewpoints of the various characters in the books. It is this that makes the books so re-readable, and in my view means that Jane should, without the slightest doubt, carry off the trophy in triumph.
When I read fiction, I want something that will engage me, keep me turning the pages. I also dearly love irony and humor, particularly that is only understood by some of the people in the room. I like to learn more about their lives to the point of buying non-fiction books about their food, vehicles, social etiquette, religious people and their practices, and even what a home’s sanitation practice was. Austen moves me to want to understand everything about her time and what life was really like for her and the people in her neighborhood. I think she wrote from what she knew, which is what I’ve heard repeatedly as advice for new writers. My recollections of Charlotte Bronte is that they were writing about fantasies and wildly exaggerated emotions. As far as I know, Charlotte Bronte never experienced these so she was writing of something she had no experience with. Please correct me if I’m wrong on that point. I think of Charlotte’s books as being dark and gloomy, with situations that are impossible to be reconciled for the happiness of the main characters. No thank you. In this life with enough stressers in it, I want to read something that has its ups and downs and is intellectual enough to feed my curiosity. I want it to be within the realm of possibility, otherwise I’d read Sci fi. And one last thought, how many people attend Bronte’s festivals, if they exist, visit their home, have societies world wide dedicated to them, and a gazzilion blogs dedicated to all things Austen?
Correction on that last part of that last sentence: “and a gazzilion blogs dedicated to all things Bronte?” There was another mistake with pronouns earlier on but I’m not going to take the time here to correct it.
Chris, do you think you have gone into too much detail now?
You say how rude you personallly think it is and then explain to people who might not know it’s various levels of meaning how rude it could be. A double standard there Chris,, don”t you think.. The phrase i used depends like so much on the context. I explained the context in which i used it.. I didn”t think many people would understannd what the hell i was on about anyway…A mere chuckle to myself. Now you have reallly bllown it. Sorry,, in the wrong context that last phrase could be taken as quite disgusting too.. . But you must agree some people can be too pompous about this sort of thing..
I totally agree with Andrew – Jane is only “An accurate daguerreotyped portrait of a common-place face” to those with no imagination, no ability to read between the lines, to see beneath the surface. I’d always rather read a novel that allows me to make some of those deep discoveries than one that spells it all out for me. Go Team Austen!
What a load of bollocks can be written.
Others have talked abut Austen’s multi layers.. Yes, they are there and so are they with all good writers. Charlotte Bronte included. To say Charlotte Bronte missed the point of Austen and didn’t understand irony: you must be joking.The irony might have bored her and she wanted something a bit more meaty perhaps. She thought about writing in a different way to Austen and she did experience passion and wildness.. Just go to Haworth where she lived and you will get the point i am sure.
We are a vocal, volatile lot, and appreciate lively debate – here we are getting into the spirit of this “debate” as Vic presented it to us – I could argue _either side_, vehemently, and I would hope that anyone reading it would take it in the spirit it was written – we all have our opinions and should be able to express them – don’t you agree??
Yours in Civility,
Deb
Ah Deb. You are referring to the anglo saxon phrase I used above.. Do you remember the sense of fun and humour it contains whenever you have used it yourself?It is one of those direct unequivocal criticisms that go right to the heart of an argument… It has it’s multi layers.. Jane and Charlotte would both have appreciated it! Direct and emphatic English humour might not always be understood.I suppose. i shall continue using it because it is part of who I am.
All the best , (couldn’t think of a colourful phrase to finish with there)
Tony
Does everybody actually understand what it means?
So, Tony and Christopher, if I might, could saying “bollocks” be the equivalent of saying “that’s ridiculous!” with a bit of anger in the voice?
But, saying something is the “dog’s bollocks” is something one would say in an admiring way about something or somebody?
Yes to both – but neither in polite company – unless you wish to be considered ‘coarse’.
Deb if I was to say everybody commenting on this post was , ,,”the dogs bollocks,” i am sure that would rectify matters no doubt.
Welll.. “YOU ARE ALL THE DOGS BOLLOCKS.”
I hope everybody feels better now.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..(urban dictionary definition: dog’s bollocks
(UK) Slang for something that is the cremé-de-la-creme, the leader in it’s field
“My car’s engine is the dog’s bollocks.”
Tony – And here I thought I was being called something akin to a “horse’s patoot!”
I agree: this slang, which would pass unremarked in a London pub conversation nowadays, was (and still is in some circles) coarser than Tony realises and would have been highly offensive to both the Austens and Brontes:
‘bollock, n. and adj. Etym: Apparently < ball . . colloq. and slang in later use.
1. Usu. in pl. A testicle. Apparently in standard use until the 17th cent., after which the word is regarded as coarse slang. N.E.D. (1885, at Ballock) notes: ‘Obs. in polite use.’ It appears in all editions of Bailey (1721–1800), but not in Johnson.
. . b. Nonsense, rubbish . .
1919 W. H. Downing Digger Dial. 12 Bollocks (n. or adj.), absurd; an absurdity.
. . 1979 K. Amis Coll. Poems 133 All that double-think..Is the ballocks it always was . .
. . 5. In pl. With the. = dog's bollocks n. (b) at dog n.1 Compounds 3d.
dog's bollocks n. . . Brit. coarse slang . . (b) (with the) the very best, the acme of excellence; cf. the cat's whiskers, bee's knee . .
. . 1995 Times 4 Oct. 7/1 Before Tony Blair's speech, a chap near me growled: ‘'E thinks 'e's the dog's bollocks.’ Well he's entitled to. It was a commanding speech: a real dog's bollocks of an oration . . ‘
[OED]
I have omitted a good deal from the OED so as not to upset the genteel sensibilities of this company.
Well Vic, why not tell us what you _really_ think!
Love this debate – and I could go on, but shall not – will only say that I love both Austen and Bronte – they wrote in different times, and I approach then in different moods – If I was asked to choose my favorite book, an impossible task I grant you, it would, and please don’t expel me from Austen-land because of this! – it would be Jane Eyre – and I completely disagree with you about the opening sentence! – in those few words you are drawn right in…
I have always thought that Charlotte Bronte’s critical words on Austen were more jealousy than anything – she didn’t have the irony, the narrative technique and certainly not the wit! – and she knew it – but what she did have she put to wondrous use…
And we can say that Jane Eyre is really a reworking of Mansfield Park, isn’t it? – certainly the grandest form of flattery?
In the end, I think one appreciates Bronte [all of them] when younger and it takes some years and multiple readings of Austen to truly appreciate her genius – perhaps Charlotte only read Austen once through?! – not unlike Twain’s multiple attempts to engage with P&P! Reading Wuthering Heights as a teenager is the most romantic adventure – as an adult, I wondered what I was thinking! Like you Vic, I find it cruel and disturbing – of all the works of all the sisters I think The Tenant of Wildfell Hall the most underrated…
A visit to Haworth is a must, even if Austen is your favorite – you can feel it all there – what inspired these three sisters to write what they did …
Thanks for this Vic – a well-done diatribe! – shall cast my vote at Penguin – can you guess who for after all this rambling?
Deb
I have nothing against Bronte, and I thoroughly enjoyed Jane Eyre. But Rochester as hero …! Nah! Even as a child, I was shuddering for poor Jane. I mean, she had to struggle all her life for one thing after the other, and at the end of the story, what does she get? A Rochester?
Hello again Vic – I just find that there is going to be a Bronte Festival of Writing at Haworth August 31-Sept 2 – there will be a discussion titled [and will include Claire Harman] : ‘Stormy Sisterhood: Jane Austen Versus the Brontes’ – here she will take on all THREE of them! More info at the Bronte.org site here:
Click to access bpmwritingfestivala5flyer_2012%20(3).pdf
Link no good – go to the Bronte site and scroll down for the info on the Festival:
http://www.bronte.org.uk/
Jane Eyre is one of the greatest novels written. Most young women read it as
a touchstone, the classic bildungsroman. As much as I love Austen, I love and
respect Eyre and its author.
“Wickham attempted to seduce an underage heiress,”
No he didn’t. For a start, the age of consent in England at the time was 12, I believe, so Georgiana Darcy at 15 was not underage. Secondly, he proposed to marry her so that he could gain control of her inheritance, and there was no much Mr Darcy could do to stop him once she had reached the age of majority and in the meantime he could use her inheritance to obtain credit. Also, at that time, it was not illegal to marry a girl or woman below the age of majority without the parents’ or guardian’s consent. The only legal requirement was that the banns should be properly read in the home parishes in which both parties resided. So just what was Mr Wickham’s terrible offence against Mr Darcy? Admittedly he was a fortune hunter, but the same could be said of both Jane and Elizabeth Bennet.
Finally, I just want to say that the more I study Jane Austen’s books the more impressed I am with the quality and complexity of her writing. As for the Bronte sisters, any one who comes from millstone grit country has my sympathy but that is all. It is just too depressing.
Hi Stephen, thank you for stopping by: I think that the Marriage Act effectively made Georgiana underage, for she could not marry without the consent of her guardians until she reached her majority. The only way around this was an elopement all the way to Gretna Green, a two-day ride from London at the least (less from Pemberley), which is what Wickham planned. An elopement in those days was scandalous and ruined a lady’s reputation if the couple was thwarted in the attempt to make it to Scottland. Georgiana was an heiress – she would have forfeited her entire fortune to Wickham without the protection of a settlement in her name negotiated by her guardians. An elopement was the worst thing an heiress could do, and Wickham knew it. Darcy would have never given his consent for Georgiana to marry Wickham. Jane Austen gave us many clues to Wickham’s character. Once married to Georgiana, he would have gone through her £30,000 fortune in no time, which he would have the legal right to do. Contemporary readers would have understood immediately that Lydia’s small fortune (£1,000) would not have tempted him to marry her. Only Darcy’s offer of £10,000 induced Wickham to marry the silly girl.
The Marriage Act 1753, full title “An Act for the Better Preventing of Clandestine Marriage”, popularly known as Lord Hardwicke’s Marriage Act . . tightened the existing ecclesiastical rules regarding marriage, providing that for a marriage to be valid it had to be performed in a church and after the publication of banns[6] or the obtaining of a licence . . The Act was highly successful in its stated aim of putting a stop to clandestine marriages, i.e., valid marriages performed by an Anglican clergyman but not in accordance with the canons. [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clandestine_Marriages_Act]
I’m sorry but the Marriage Act 1753 did not effectively make her underage because it had nothing to do with the age of consent which was 12 at the time and was only raised to 13 by the Offences against the Person Act 1875 and then to 16 by the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885. While it would have been unlikely that Georgiana Darcy would consent to pre-marital sex, it was not unknown for young women in her position to do so. And it should be remembered that child prostitution was rife at this time.
I accept that the Marriage Act 1753 did reduce the number of clandestine marriages particularly Fleet Marriages but it did not make impossible for minors to marry. An elopement to Scotland was not the only option available to couples involving one or minors wishing to marry. As I explained above if the banns were properly called and the parents did not object (for example because they did not know), then the subsequent marriage was valid. Wikipedia explains it as follows:
“It has been widely but wrongly asserted, for example, that the Act rendered invalid any marriage involving minors, i.e. those under 21, unless parental consent had been given. In fact, this was true only for the minority of marriages celebrated by licence***. While the parent of a minor could forbid the banns and so prevent a marriage from going ahead, a marriage by banns that took place without active parental dissent was valid. This gave rise to the practice whereby underage couples would resort to a parish where they were not resident to have the banns called without their parents’ knowledge. Since the Act specifically prohibited the courts from inquiring into the parties’ place of residence after the marriage had been celebrated, such evasive marriages were still valid. The only way in which an aggrieved parent could challenge such a marriage was if there had been a mistake amounting to fraud in the calling of the banns.”
While we may deprecate such behaviour and find it distasteful, like some of the middle classes at the time did, if we are to fully understand Jane Austen’s writing we cannot ignore it. As I said before, this understanding is important in establishing that Wickham arguably committed no great offence against Darcy. Furthermore, if we are honest, Darcy had probably as many deficiencies in his character as Wickham though of a different kind – the one redeeming feature of Darcy was that he had the self-awareness and intelligence to correct those deficiencies when they were pointed out to him. George Santayana’s most famous dictum would always apply to Wickham.
*** – in the book, Mrs Bennet says that Darcy and Elizabeth should be married by “special licence” – this is what she meant.
Certainly Lydia was very young as well, but her position provided disgrace to her family, which is why Mr. Darcy made arrangements for them to marry in
London. For a family of the gentry such early marriages were disgraceful.
I quite agree with Vic’s observations on Jane Austen but I must put in a word for Charlotte Bronte. Jane Austen was more realistic and depicted more typical individuals in a society. Charlotte couldn’t do that so well. But she has the power of poetry, well over Jane’s, and her heroines are exceptional. Before her no one depicted the solitary heroine’s passions and what is more, sense of identity so well in literature. Who could match the deep uncertainties of Lucy Snowe’s psyche? Or the silent anguished despair of Caroline Helstone? Jane Eyre is not typical Bronte, in fact Charlotte wrote more realism novels than Gothic ones. Her heroes are not convincing, but the heroines more than compensate this deficiency. Jane Austen may be perfect and shrewd and understanding but even she could’t write a Hamletlike figure. Fanny Price comes closest to the solitary heroine but even she has not the intellectual fire and individuality of Lucy Snowe, Caroline Helstone and Jane Eyre. Charlotte is certainly flawed but she had that extra fire, deep insight and sympathy to write of an unsympathetic heroine. Lucy Snowe and Fanny Price are equally unlikeable if you were to meet them in real life, and yet you sympathise with Lucy while many people can’t stand Fanny. We should not use P&P and Emma as the best Austen – to me, Fanny Price was the best-written because her character is most complex. Yet even Austen couldn’t make us sympathise much with Fanny. I’m not trying to say who is superior overall, just saying all this does NOT make Austen superior to Charlotte Bronte or vice versa. Granted, literature in Austen’s time hadn’t fully developed the idea of expressing the individual well, so she was conforming more or less to the mores of Regency fiction. But who could write of individuality, even in Victorian times, so ardently and so convincingly as Charlotte? Wuthering Heights though in my opinion is overrated and melodramatic. What you might like to try is Anne Bronte, underrated of the trio. She is more realistic but less individualistic