I am reading scholarly works about Jane Austen and having hearteyes about obscure details in the Pemberley chapters of P&P that indicate Mr. Darcy’s sustainable land management praxis.
Okay, let’s talk about Pemberley!
Austen, as a rule, doesn’t spend many paragraphs describing locations. There’s often information to be gleaned from their names (Sense and Sensibility is full of lurking references to sexual scandals and Mansfield Park to slavery), but Longbourn just means “long stream” or “long boundary,” Netherfield means “lower field,” and Rosings’ original owner was a redhead. Meryton, a pun on “merry town,” is kind of fascinating, given the installment of the militia and the threat to stability and serenity they represent. Partying and shenanigans. Possibly a Shakespeare ref.
Longbourn barely gets any description at all. From the get-go, everyone who lives there is obsessed with other places, with getting out (except Mr. Bennet, who never wants to leave his library, never mind the house). Lady Catherine deems it small and mildly uncomfortable, which is in keeping with the theme of confinement, but also it’s Lady Catherine talking. Netherfield can’t tell us much about Bingley, who is only a tenant. Rosings is expensively, ostentatiously modern and gaudily furnished, though it has a handsome park that Lady Catherine and her stifled daughter never set foot in but Elizabeth and Darcy both frequently escape to during their stays.
So it’s notable and wonderful that Austen goes out of her way to describe Pemberley as an old-fashioned, highly successful, working estate. Its practical old Anglo-Saxon name means “Pember’s clearing.” A pember is a man who grows barley. Darcy most likely still does. As Elizabeth and the Gardiners approach and tour the house, they notice and admire its beautiful surrounding woods, and then when they wander outside, the specific word Austen uses is coppice woods. A coppice is a woodland filled with tree species that grow new shoots from their stumps when you chop them down. Darcy probably has oaks on a fifty-year cycle as well as faster-growing species such as hawthorn and hornbeam for firewood, timber and cattle fodder. Coppice forestry is functional and sustainable, and provides habitat for beasts and birds.
Darcy is the anti-John Dashwood (Dashwood, srsly), the brother in Sense and Sensibility who inherits Elinor and Marianne’s childhood estate of Norland, whose wife immediately starts making plans to hack down trees (not even coppice trees, but big, gorgeous, venerable hardwoods) to make way for a folly. Jane Austen hated follies. Also, it ought to be noted that timber was so valuable in Britain at the time that estates often had inheritance clauses that detailed who was and wasn’t allowed to chop down what.
Darcy’s a food producer and land conservator, prefers nature over fussy, ornamental landscape design, his servants and tenants like him, he gives money to the poor… and… he’s a trout fisherman! He shoots, too, as do Bingley and Hurst and Mr. Bennet, but it’s a particular mark in his favour that Austen singles him and Mr. Gardiner out as anglers. It’s a pastime that signifies a taste for contemplation and quietness and appreciation of nature, as blissfully described in The Compleat Angler; or, The Contemplative Man’s Recreation, a hugely popular travel book first published in the 1600s and reprinted often for 18th C libraries. The plot of The Compleat Angler is about the conversion of a hunter (pastime of the ultra-rich) to a fisherman who learns to love the peaceful sport. We receive ample evidence elsewhere that Darcy is a man capable of swift, decisive action and formidable effectiveness. But at Pemberley, Austen takes care to show us how he’s balanced.
Most of the information in this post comes from Margaret Doody’s Jane Austen’s Names.
I didn’t know any of this! I always thought it was a bit odd how her viewing the estate changed her views of the man himself, as if it was about how big the place was. Instead it was how he cared for the land / people. Fascinating! Completely missed that.
It’s literally his character reference! Most women at the time had to marry for financial security, yet marriage was horribly risky, because divorce was almost impossible. If you married someone you didn’t know well, and he turned out to be lazy, irresponsible, or abusive, you were stuck.
This is why so many Austen heroes are mature, almost frumpy men the heroines have known for years. Local fellows with family ties. They don’t offer breathless romances; the happy endings they offer are happy because they are safe.
Darcy is not a local boy.
Darcy is not a fully formed, baggable Austen hero when he proposes at Hunsford, not just because he’s rude af, but because Lizzy doesn’t know him well enough yet. She has no real way of knowing how he would treat her. Austen sends Lizzy to Pemberley not to dazzle her with Darcy’s wealth, but to provide her with good, hard evidence of his treatment of the people under his protection, including his tenants, his sister, and the intelligent, dignified housekeeper who has known him since he was a toddler.
Character references established, we may proceed with the romance.
(n.b. He doesn’t know her either, until she’s rejected him. He proposes, despite his giant pile of reservations, because he’s so horny for her he can’t stand it (at least, to his credit, he’s turned on by her brains as much as her hot little bod), but only after her refusal does he realize how completely he has failed to understand this woman or make himself worthy of her. He falls in love for real only after she has demanded that he live up to his own high standards. Refreshing, ain’t it?)
Tag: jane austen
Brave New World of Toil and Trouble
I am posting this as a wholehearted rec because I ADORE this story and I have no one in my life I can talk about it with because no one I talk to regularly about fannish things is into Austen/has read this fic. It’s a what if? AU which those who know me KNOW is my one true love of fan fiction. It’s detailed, it’s long, it’s plotty, it’s complete, and it has gorgeous character development for all involved, both canon and original players. It’s talking about rape culture and feminism and fighting for the people you love, but also about taking a terrible thing and making something amazing from it.
Heed the warnings. If non-con of any kind is a problem for you, this is not the story for you. But if, like me, you gain a great catharsis from reading characters you love endure, and more, evolve from something devastating and triumph, you will love this fic.
Beth AM crafted something amazing that I wish I could have a physical copy of on my shelf right next to Austen’s originals. I don’t say that about many fan fictions, though I’ve read a lot. Katie Forsythe/wordstrings’s Sherlock Holmes fic. copperbadge’s Cartographer’s Craft. shuofthewind’s The Making of Monsters. domarzione’s Freezer Burn. Not Easily Conquered by WhatAreFears and dropdeaddream. I’m sure there are a few more I’m forgetting, but all told, it’s not a long list out of the thousands of fics I’ve read over decades in fandoms. This is one of them.
Read it. Love it. Thank the imagination and the dedication of the author that it exists. And then sigh that because it’s on a web page archive, not Ao3, you can’t leave kudos to let the author know how wonderful it is, and resort to telling Tumblr instead. That’s what I did, anyway.
alright!!!!!
How to Tell If You Are In a Jane Austen Novel
Someone disagreeable is trying to persuade you to take a trip to Bath.
Your father is absolutely terrible with money. No one has ever told him this.
All of your dresses look like nightgowns.
Someone disagreeable tries to persuade you to join a game of cards.
A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.
A picnic has gone horribly wrong.
A member of the armed forces has revealed himself to be morally deficient.
You once took a walk with a cad.
Everyone in the neighborhood, including your mother, has ranked you and your sisters in order of hotness. You know exactly where you fall on the list.
You say something arch yet generous about another woman both younger and richer than you.
You have one friend; he is thirty years old and does business with your father and you are going to marry him someday.
You attempt to befriend someone slightly above or slightly below your social station and are soundly punished for it.
A girl you have only just met tells you a secret, and you despise her for it.
You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.
There are three men in your life: one true love, one tempting but rakish acquaintance, and a third distant possibility — he is courteous and attentive but only slightly interested in you. He is almost certainly the cousin or good friend of your true love, and nothing will ever happen between you two.
A woman who is not your mother treats you like her own daughter. Your actual mother is dead or ridiculous.
You develop a resentment at a public dance.
Someone you know has fallen ill. Not melodramatically ill, just interestingly so.
A man proposes to you, then to another, lesser woman when you politely spurn him. This delights you to no end.
A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.
You have become exceedingly ashamed of what your conduct has been.
A shocking marriage of convenience takes place within your social circle two-thirds of the way in.
A woman in an absurd hat is being an absolute bitch to you; there is nothing you can do about it.
You are in a garden, and you are astonished.
(x)
You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.
I lost it with that one. Lost it bad.
I always feel awkward because I actually know what “five hundred a year” means.
Oh, I know it too. But I will admit that I had no idea what it was when I started reading JA books and it’s funny how no one ever, EVER explains it in the books, movies, fanfiction, etc. To a young reader 500 a year could really be anything.
I started cracking up at “a picnic has gone horribly wrong.”
“A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.”
I can’t breathe. This list is perfect.
“A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.”
I’m dead, bye.
A woman in an absurd hat is being an absolute bitch to you; there is nothing you can do about it.
Be warned: this may also indicate that you are in the American South and you are in a church.
I am almost 30 years old and I STILL don’t know what the 500 a year is or where it’s coming from or why.
Let’s be real, in a time before the internet people didn’t have more adventures and make more meaningful connections. They watched TV and listened to CDs. Before that they listened to records and read magazines. Before that they listened to the radio and read bad dime novels. Before that they embroidered or some shit.
People have been staying inside and ignoring other people for as long as there have been buildings.
Seriously, this. I mean have you read Jane Austen? I mean, sure, there are dances and parties and all that shit, but in particular, in Pride and Prejudice, there’s at least one big scene at Mr Bingley’s house where Lizzie’s reading, Darcy’s writing a letter, and the others are all doing their own thing, too, with occasional bursts of conversation. They’re sharing a space, but they’re not constantly engaged with one another.