Ode to the wingman

In the world of dating and seduction, a wingman plays a vital role – he helps an eligible male socialize and interact with eligible females. The wingman may also occupy less attractive female companions, so that the friend can focus his attentions on the prized target.

The wingman existed long before the popular Coors Light ad. Jane Austen, in fact, introduces Mr. Darcy as a wingman. We meet Mr. Bingley first, and only learn of Mr. Darcy as the friend Bingley has dragged to the assembly in Meryton.

Mr. Darcy is really a horrible wingman (of course, Mr. Hurst is worse. Poor Bingley!). Darcy’s pride, conceit, and inability/refusal to converse with strangers cause him to fail Bingley miserably. Rather than helping Bingley along, Darcy distracts Bingley from Jane rebuffs his suggestions to socialize. More wallflower than wingman!

Darcy’s failure as a wingman is required for the story line — he needs to create that poor first impression. “She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

But poor Mr. Bingley would have been much better served with someone else as his wingman. It’s really rather amazing that Mr. Bingley was successful at the assembly, weighed down by Darcy, Caroline, and the Hursts. Not a wingman in sight for our Bingley! Perhaps he should have befriended Colonel Fitzwilliam instead.

Love and marriage

Despite writing one of the most romantic novels in the English language, Jane Austen wrote of very unromantic marriages. She held love and romance in the highest regard, but in fact most of the marriages in Pride and Prejudice were not romantic at all.

Some of her marriages depict a transactional partnership, void of affection and emotion — here is what I get out of the relationship, here is what you get. Mr. Collins and Charlotte Lucas exemplify this relationship. There isn’t a lack of respect, but there is a marked lack of affection. Neither party is necessarily discontent — they are just missing out on a deeper emotional connection in marriage.

She also writes of marriages with immediate bursts of affection — physical passion — but devoid of deeper feelings and respect. Lydia and Mr. Wickham are obvious in this example, and I would say that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are also in this category. Mrs. Bennet was said to have been very pretty as a young woman, and the Bennet’s did have five children in about eight years. But both relationships break down to a distance and tolerance after the scorching heat of passion dims.

The relationships that Austen writes of most flatteringly are those with a healthy balance of respect, admiration and affection. This category includes Mr. Bingley and Jane, and especially Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. They truly enjoy each others company and conversation, they value the other person’s opinion and point of view, and they have a balanced attraction rooted in esteem and respect.

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, though, are held up as the pinnacle of the marital relationship. They have the respect, admiration and affection of the Bingleys and the Gardiners, with a healthy passion that built over time and trials. They are equals in intelligence, wit, compassion, humor and love. Remember, Jane only smiles but Lizzy laughs.

So maybe Jane Austen was a bit of a romantic after all…

It’s lonely at the top

I’ve decided that Mr. Darcy was a very lonely fellow.

He was an only child for much of his childhood, and both his parents died early. According to the strict social structure of the time, most people he met were ‘beneath’ him in class.

Then add his proud personality; he was reserved, aloof, highly critical of others, and raised to feel naturally superior. He admitted that he had trouble connecting with strangers. He probably never even recognized how lonely he was. Until he met Lizzy.

He sought her out, almost unwillinginly. Certainly despite his own reasoning and logic. He wanted to ignore her, but instead watched her every move. He wanted to be critical of her, but instead was entranced by her fine eyes.

Sometimes we are our own worst enemies. Darcy certainly was. (Remember when Bingley reproaches him with, “I would not be so fastidious as you are for a kingdom?”) Inwardly, we want to be close to people, but outwardly we push them away. Inwardly, we feel inferior, and outwardly we may seem superior.

Through his love for Lizzy, Darcy found fulfillment, completeness, wholeness. Perhaps for the first time in his life. And I think this made him a kinder person in the end.

He’s just not that into you

Earth to Caroline Bingley. Hello? Do you copy?

You can fawn, strut, prance and flatter all you want. Mr. Darcy is just not that into you. He’ll never tell you that he’s not interested. But he’s not. Here’s how you can tell:

Maybe He Doesn’t Want to Ruin the Friendship
Darcy is friends with your brother. He’s not really friends with you. Exhibit A: True friendship between a man and a woman wasn’t really possible in 1811. (Some say it’s never possible, but it certainly ain’t possible in 1811. It’s hard to be friends if you can never be alone together.) Exhibit B: He doesn’t seek out your company– he only endures it when you’re with Bingley and the Hursts. Exhibit C. He regularly disagrees with or dismisses anything you have to say. Not good signs.

Maybe He’s Intimidated by Me
You are overbearing, condescending, petty, and even downright mean. But I don’t think Darcy is intimidated by you. Remember, he is pretty arrogant and proud himself. I don’t think the word intimidated has ever entered his vocabulary.

Maybe He Wants to Take It Slow
Any slower, and he’d be in reverse. As in running away! Darcy didn’t just meet Bingley and he didn’t just meet you. If he wanted to marry you, you’d already know. He’s not taking it slow. It’s really a no. As in no way. Never. Nuh-uh.

I am sorry to pain you, Miss Bingley-but there it is. He’s just not that into you. 

The thrill of the chase

I doubt that Mr. Darcy ever had to chase a woman in his life.  Using Caroline Bingley as an example, he was usually the one being chased. Blatantly. Until he met Lizzy.

This might be the most brilliant irony in Jane Austen’s prose. The opening line tells us, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

While Mr. Darcy probably wanted a wife on an abstract level, it is more accurate that an unmarried gentlewoman (along with her mother, her father, and probably her entire family) was much more deeply “in want” of a single man of good fortune.

Our gal Lizzy had it figured out.  She recognized Darcy’s dissatisfaction with the women who spoke, dressed, thought, and behaved for his approval alone. So she did the exact opposite. Teased him. Laughed at him. Refused to dance with him. And instead of hating her for it, he persued her harder. She became unforgettable.

I’d say the thrill of the chase made him eventually love her more. Most everything in his life was handed to him on a silver platter, simply by the virtue of him being born.  He had to work at this. She taught him that he had to earn her respect, esteem and love by being a true gentleman.

It certainly isn’t their teeth

I’m a sucker for a guy with a British accent. Not that I come across them often in my day-to-day life (unfortunately). But give me any movie star bumbling along with a dashing British accent, and I’ll buy a ticket. All the better if you dress him up in some confining period clothing and stick him on a horse.

There is something disarmingly charming about a British accent. Is it the polite but self-depricating style? The randy double entendres that add a little sauciness to any statement? The nervous hand-wringing and leg-crossing that accompanies any comment? Whatever the formula, it has been refined for centuries and is deliciously perfect.

I don’t think that English gentlemen are inherently good-looking. Especially if they smile and show a lot of teeth. The English can be a pale lot, undoubtedly due to the rain and overcast weather. And they can look downright curmudgenly (think Prince Philip or even Prince Edward in tweed). It’s all about the accent.

My husband certainly doesn’t get it (although he happily humors me). He looks at me in puzzlement as I swoon over a Brit on a horse. He is especially perplexed as I swoon over them in tights and a waistcoat. If he could only work on changing his accent…

Girls just wanna have fun

Although this may have been Lydia Bennet’s theme song (and  Lydia might have dressed like Cyndi Lauper had she been alive in 1983), this song is not the rallying cry for gentlewomen of 1811. Marrying well was of supreme importance in the Regency era, and courting wasn’t a whole lot of fun.

Respectable women had very little influence over their financial well-being. The confining social class system didn’t allow them to work. If their family didn’t have much wealth, they had to marry well to insure their security and prosperity. It’s no wonder Mrs. Bennet was obsessed with marrying off her daughters, as she would have very little money in widowhood.

Although Lizzy wanted to marry for love, her esteem of Mr. Darcy is affected by seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley. I am not saying that Lizzy was a gold digger– breaking through his pride and her prejudices were paramount to her affection. But she was also keenly aware of the Bennet’s precarious financial situation.

While Lizzy is more romantic than Charlotte Lucas, the experience of visiting Pemberley (and of all this, I might have been mistress) had to improve her opinion of Mr. Darcy.  She knew that Mr. Darcy was wealthy (ten thousand a year!), but I think that reality of his financial situation didn’t completely sink in until she set foot at Pemberley.

Did they have Myers-Briggs in 1811?

The ongoing popularity of Pride and Prejudice (and all of Jane Austen’s writings) is due in large part to the universality of her characters. Can’t you see Lydia today, jabbering on a cell phone while hanging out at the mall? Or Mr. Collins using an on-line dating service to find Mrs. Right? The characters are as real and as believable as they were 200 years ago. So how would Lizzy’s and Mr. Darcy’s compatibility be assessed in today’s world? In our world of personality tests and marketing analysis, I am not sure this match would be seen in a prudential light.

In Myers-Briggs lingo, Mr. Darcy presents as a full-blooded INTJ. He is a problem-solver with strong opinions, competent at analyzing complex and theoretical material. He may appear insensitive to others (which isn’t always true underneath) and loves spirited debate, although he will value his opinion over those of others. He supposedly would be a good scientist, CIA operative  or corporate executive.

In contrast, Lizzy is a classic ENFJ. She is a charismatic and engaging people-person who likes to offer wisdom to the world at large, exuding charm and striving for harmony. She enjoys talking and learning from others and would make a good social worker, sales person or politician.

Scientifically, they are two personality types least likely to have a successful relationship. Jane Austen must believe that opposites attract. As they grow and mature through the book,  there is more than enough merit between them to make one good sort of match.

Every bad boy has a soft side

Mr. Darcy is a proud, arrogant and disagreeable fellow, constantly giving offense wherever he goes. He is a bad boy in tights and a waist coat. Not your typical heart throb! So what is it about him that has made hearts swoon for two centuries? Darcy is a man of Character. Gravitas. Cajones.

Mr. Darcy is enormously bound by duty and honor. He is responsible for the health and wellbeing of his family, his servants, his tenants and his estate, and has carried these burdens since the tender age of 23. By most accounts, he is kind and compassionate in these duties.

And yet, he follows his heart (and maybe his cajones too) by proposing to Lizzy. Granted, his first proposal was a flop with a capital F. But despite some very poorly chosen words, he does talk of ardent love and admiration. His willingness to follow his heart, is quite romantic in it’s essence.

There’s something about Jane

It is a truth universally acknowledged that there is something about Jane Austen.

She creates universal characters who (although they wear skin-tight breeches and use multi-syllabic words like obsequiousness, perturbation and palliation) still feel modern and real. Who among us hasn’t said something rashly, and regretted it later? Meant to say something nice, and had it come out all wrong? Been forced into pleasantries with someone they disliked?

Lizzy is the gal we all hope to be– charming, beguiling, and endlessly witty. She is traditional, yet also an unconventional upstart. She is respectful, yet she can deliver a zinger with a twinkle in her eye. She is utterly herself, and utterly a delight.

Darcy is enigmatic and sullen. He speak few words, and those he does speak seem laced with contempt and scorn. Hardly your typical hero! And yet, beneath it all, we recognize the strength of his character and the goodness of his heart. He smolders at the mere sight of Lizzy, and that passion propels him down paths he never knew existed.

There is something about Jane Austen. Her characters speak to your heart and your soul, and never let you go.