Austen 250 Reader Series: Mansfield Park (Vol. II, Ch. 1-7)

Hello dearest readers.

Thank you for joining for the newest installment of the Jane Austen Summer Program’s 250 Reader Series! I’m Na’dayah, and you lucky readers get to read Mansfield Park with me for the next several weeks.

This week I’ll be covering chapters 19 through 25 of the novel, AKA chapters 1 through 7 of Volume II.

Let’s pick up right where we left off: Sir Thomas’s return to Mansfield Park.

The patriarch’s arrival triggers sour feelings, for it surely can’t be good for their theatricals plan. Julia, who entered to announce Sir Thomas’s arrival, spots Henry Crawford holding Maria’s hand tightly at the announcement. This incites a new flare of jealousy in her, and she storms out, leaving the rest of the party to cope with Sir Thomas.

Mary and Henry Crawford know to be dodgy about the subject of theatricals, and they understand that Sir Thomas’s arrival means it’s the end of their play. Yates, however, is much slower to understand; he “consider[s] it only a temporary interruption.” The Crawfords decide to leave, inviting Yates to walk with them, but the latter insists on hanging back to “pay his respects to the old gentleman.”

Fanny, collecting herself, enters the drawing-room, joining the space where the family has gathered to greet Sir Thomas. Upon her entrance, Sir Thomas is especially, disarmingly kind.

“As she entered, her own name caught her ear. Sir Thomas was at that very moment looking round him, and saying ‘But where is Fanny?—Why do not I see my little Fanny?’, and on perceiving her, came forward with a kindness which astonished and penetrated her, calling her his dear Fanny, kissing her affectionately, and observing with decided pleasure how much she was grown! Fanny knew not how to feel, nor where to look. She was quite oppressed. He had never been so kind, so very kind to her in his life.” — Vol. II, Ch. I

Sir Thomas suggests that everyone seat themselves around the fire, so they do. He’s delighted to be back home with his family, and “communicative and chatty in a very unusual degree.” He’s also introduced to Mr. Rushworth, to whom he takes an immediate liking, given that there is “nothing disagreeable in Mr. Rushworth’s appearance.”

Of all the people present, Lady Bertram is the most joyful (by a long shot!) at her husband’s return. Her joyousness makes her talkative, and her talkativeness brings downfall for the others:

“In the elation of her spirits Lady Bertram became talkative, and what were the sensations of her children upon hearing her say, ‘How do you think the young people have been amusing themselves lately, Sir Thomas? They have been acting. We have been all alive with acting.” — Vol. II, Ch. I

The cat jumps out of the bag, spilling the beans on its way out. The big secret has been revealed!

Tom Bertram is quick to speak, and he does a good job of covering up the subject by playing it down. But the danger soon returns: “Sir Thomas, getting up, said that he found he could not be any longer in the house without just looking into his own dear room.” He leaves before anyone can warn him of the change he’s about to find.

The family members must act fast! They decide they must find their friends; since the Crawfords have already left, Tom goes to fetch Yates. He goes to the Theatre (capital T!) and arrives just in time to see Sir Thomas meeting Yates.

It is, to say the least, not the prettiest scene.

Sir Thomas is shocked to find the room in the state that he does, and he’s even more shocked to hear someone talking in a very loud accent—someone with a familiar voice. . . . He stumbles, of course, upon John Yates, who is in the middle of running lines with himself. Sir Thomas is taken aback by the presence of a stranger in his house. He’s even more taken aback when, inevitably, Yates tells all, boasting of the play of which he had been supposed to play a part, and how the “infection” has spread to Mansfield.

“Mr. Yates took the subject from his friend as soon as possible, and immediately gave Sir Thomas an account of what they had done and were doing, told him of the gradual increase of their views, the happy conclusion of their first difficulties, and present promising state of affairs; relating every thing with so blind and interest has made him not only totally unconscious of the uneasy movements of many of his friends as they sat, the change of countenance, the fidget, the hem! of unquietness, but prevented him, even from seeing the expression of the face on which his own eyes were fixed.” — Vol. II, Ch. I

Suffice it to say that Sir Thomas is less than pleased.

The next day, Edmund decides that he must make amends, and goes to see his father alone. He accepts blame on behalf of everyone except Fanny, whom he entirely absolves. Sir Thomas decide not to talk to everybody about it, but he does have a chat with Mrs. Norris. He really chews her out, insisting upon the impropriety of it all; sure, the young people started and managed the theatricals, but they are young and “of unsteady characters,” whereas Mrs. Norris should have acted with more maturity and wisdom. Mrs. Norris does not know what to say in response to this, since she is very clearly as much in the wrong as the rest of the theatrical crew is, so she simply escapes the conversation by changing the topic, disarming Sir Thomas with her flattery.

Sir Thomas is quick to handle business. He swiftly “reinstates himself in all the wonted concerns of his Mansfield life,” and dismantle the theatricals, ordering the deconstruction of the set pieces and “the destruction of every unbound copy of ‘Lovers’ Vows’ in the house, for he was burning all that met his eye.”

The dismantling of the theater results in the disassembly of the family and friends, for the first time in a long time. Henry Crawford leaves, which makes Julia and Fanny happy. Yates leaves as well—for this, especially, Sir Thomas is very glad.

Mansfield quickly becomes much more boring.

This change isn't, however, to the total dissatisfaction of Fanny. She acts actually enjoys the change!

“ ‘I suppose I am braver than other people,’ said Fanny. ‘The evenings do not appear long to me. I love to hear my uncle talk of the West Indies. I could listen to him for an hour together it entertains me more than many other things have done—but then I am unlike other people I dare say.” — Vol. II, Ch. III

#She’sNotLikeOtherGirls!

Edmund remarks that Sir Thomas will surely compliment her, and insist that she get used to accepting that she is pretty and “worth looking at,” and that she need not be afraid of attention.

It seems that Fanny really isn't like other people; she seems to be one of the only people right now that Sir Thomas can tolerate. In particular, Sir Thomas has begun to strongly dislike Mr. Rushworth, his daughter's fiancé. It turns out to be that Mr. Rushworth is very different to the son-in-law that Sir Thomas expected, and he talks to his daughter about this, offering to free her from the engagement.

To this, Maria Bertram erupts with joy, saying please, please, yes, get me out of this loathsome relationship with this loathsome—

Oh, what? That’s not what she says?

To the reader’s surprise—to my surprise, at least, my first time reading this book—Maria doubles down on her interest in Mr. Rushworth.

“She had the highest esteem for Mr. Rushworth’s character and disposition, and could not have a doubt of her happiness with him.” — Vol. II, Ch. III

But why? Why would she commit to a man whom she had begun to dislike, especially when being offered the chance to escape such a situation?

Why, as a big fat screw you to Henry Crawford, of course. Because there’s no way Maria Bertram is going to give Henry Crawford—who played with her heart, played with her sister’s heart, and ditched them both!—the satisfaction of having destroyed her “credit, her appearance, [and] her prosperity” in addition to her happiness.”

She does, however, decide that she needs to escape: “Independence was more needful than ever.” because of this, the wedding plans are exponentially sped up. Within just a few weeks, Maria Bertram becomes Mrs. Rushworth. The newlyweds visit Brighton, taking Julia with them, since—now that the resident womanizer has left the vicinity—the sisters’ rivalry has ceased.

With so many characters gone, Fanny finds herself with a growing level of importance, with her “value” increasing both at home and at the Parsonage. While running errands one day, Fanny is caught in a storm while near the Parsonage, and is quickly ushered inside. Her presence is delightful to Miss Crawford, who was preparing for a boring day inside as a result of the rain. Mrs. Grant and Miss Crawford are “so kind to her and so pleasant, that Fanny might have enjoyed her visit could she have believed herself not in the way.” Nevertheless, she doesn’t seem totally in discomfort. When Fanny inquires about the harp in the room, Miss Crawford offers to play for her. Overall, Fanny’s presence is greatly enjoyed, and Miss Crawford entreats her to visit often. Thus blooms a new intimacy between the pair.

Their meetings do not pass the Bechdel test; it is inevitable that the topic of Edmund come up. He shows up in the flesh, too, to fetch Fanny, and the trio falls into a discussion of money. Miss Crawford asserts that “a large income is the best recipe for happiness that [she] ever heard of.” When Edmund notes that she intends to be rich, she affirms him: “’To be sure. Do not you?—Do not we all?’” Edmund insists that his only intentions are “not to be poor.” Thus continues another point of difference between Edmund and Miss Crawford.

It comes time for Edmund and Fanny to leave, but before they do Dr. Grant extends to Edmund an invite to dinner. Fanny is shocked to find herself being invited, too, by Mrs. Grant, who “turned to her and asked for the pleasure of her company too.” Fanny is taken aback, so she looks to Edmund for help at a refusal; but Edmund, “delighted with her having such an happiness offered,” accepts on her behalf.

When Lady Bertram hears of the invitation to Fanny, her most prominent reaction is that of confusion. She’s quick to refute, suggesting the oddity of it (”Fanny never dines there, you know, in this sort of way”) and insisting, as she always does, that she “cannot spare her,” and that she’s “sure [Fanny] does not want to go.”

Edmund, however, intervenes; he insists that there’s no reason why Fanny shouldn’t go, so they resolve to bring the matter to Sir Thomas. Upon breaching the subject to him, he insists upon her going.

“’But as I conclude that she must wish to go, since all young people like to be together, I can see no reason why she should be denied the indulgence.’” — Vol. II, Ch. V

Thus, Fanny is permitted to attend the dinner. Much to the chagrin of Mrs. Norris, who resolves to make the situation as unpleasant for Fanny as possible. She reminds Fanny that “wherever you are, you must be the lowest and last.” (How rude!) She even goes as far as to insist that Fanny not be given the luxury of a carriage, to which Fanny readily agrees. Sir Thomas, however, overhears this agreement, and is indignant. He insists that a carriage be prepared for Fanny and Edmund’s travel. Fanny, overwhelmed with gratitude at his consideration, cries tears of gratitude—only once in private, of course.

Upon Fanny and Edmund’s arrival at the Parsonage, they find a familiar face: Henry Crawford has returned. Fanny is, to put it gently, less than pleased by his presence. During dinner, she even remarks to herself how indifferent he seems about the emotional turmoil he caused her cousins, and she grows incredibly indignant on their behalf. She even goes as far as to retort—a huge deal for our meek little Fanny Price!

“Fanny, averting her face, said with a firmer tone than usual, ‘As far as I am concerned, sir, I would not have delayed his return for a day. My uncle disapproved it all so entirely when he did arrive, that in my opinion, every thing had gone quite far enough.’” — Vol. II, Ch. V

This, miraculously, quiets Henry Crawford. But to what extent? . . .

Unable to break any new ground with Fanny, Henry turns to talk to his sister. They discuss Edmund’s prospects, particularly his mere seven hundred pounds a year of prospective income. At this, Miss Crawford is severely vexed; “the assurance of Edmund’s being so soon to take orders [comes] upon her like a blow,” filling her with anger for Edmund. She resolves that, since she has failed to influence him out of contentment with meager funds, she will “henceforth admit his attentions without any idea beyond immediate amusement.”

Because how dare he be poor! Obviously.

While Miss Crawford is resigning herself to ignore Edmund, Mr. Crawford is doing the opposite with the new object of his interest: Guess who!

Mr. Crawford is insistent upon Fanny’s newfound beauty, and resolves to spend another fortnight at Mansfield. Why? Well, with the object of wooing Fanny Price, of course!

While he proclaims of Fanny’s beauty, his sister insists to him that he is only taking interest in her because she is now the only woman even remotely available to his affections. Miss Crawford insists that he leave Fanny alone, but he is resolute. Really, his desires are quite simple:

“’I only want her to look kindly on me, to give me smiles as well as blushes, to keep a chair for me by herself wherever we are, and to be all animation when I take it and talk to her; to think, as I think, be interested in all my possessions and pleasures, try to keep me longer at Mansfield, and feel when I go away that she shall never be happy again. I want nothing more.’” — Vol. II, Ch. VI

A simple aspiration, wouldn’t you say?

Despite Henry Crawford’s horribly-motivated new advances, Fanny is largely protected from his allure. She offers civility in return for his improved manners and politeness, but “her affection [is] engaged elsewhere.” I wonder where that might be. . . .

Crawford’s aspirations only continue when Fanny’s brother William returns to England from his time at sea. William visits Mansfield, and Fanny is incredibly delighted: she “had never known so much felicity in her life.”

Henry, in seeing Fanny’s joy, only grows more resolute in his desire to woo her. She is too interesting for him to leave after only a couple of weeks! “A fortnight was not enough. His stay became indefinite.”

Mr. Crawford’s extra attention to Fanny doesn’t go unnoticed. Sir Thomas takes notice: “any one in the habit of such idle observations would have thought that Mr. Crawford was the admirer of Fanny Price.”

One night, while dining at the Parsonage, the group takes up a couple of card games. Mr. Crawford situates himself beside Fanny, so as to be able to teach her how to play the game—even after she’s already gotten the hang of it.

In the course of the conversation, Mr. Crawford talks about how, on his ride home, he “found [him]self in . . . Thornton Lacey.” This makes Miss Crawford’s ears perk up: Thornton Lacey is the name of the property onto which Edmund will be moving once it’s time for him to take up orders.

Thornton Lacey is, according to Mr. Crawford, greatly in need of improvements. He’s more than happy to offer them, even proposing that he “rent the house himself the following winter,” in order to keep close to the Mansfield Park family.

Sir Thomas, on hearing this, is pleased, but insists that Edmund occupy his own house at Thornton Lacey. Edmund agrees, but is more than happy to extend his future home to Mr. Crawford as a friend, even if not as a tenant.

Talk of Thornton upsets both Fanny and Miss Crawford, though for different reasons: Fanny because she’s reminded of how soon Edmund will be leaving, and Miss Crawford because she’s “startled from the agreeable fancies she had been previously indulging,” which are foiled by the new description of the property.

The card games end, and the group gathers around the fire. Here, the subject of William’s potential as a lieutenant—which William worries is improbable—gives way to the subject of dancing, on account of he finds, because of his non-lieutenant status, that no one wants to dance with him at balls. He notes how he’d like to see Fanny dance at a ball, to which everyone else remarks having never seen Fanny dance, since she’s never attended a ball. The only exception is Mr. Crawford, who has “had the pleasure” of seeing her dance; he begins to speak of this, but stops when he notices Fanny’s discomfort. Fanny is saved from more conversation by “the bustle of Mrs. Norris,” who urges her into the carriage. Thus, Fanny is whisked away.

Thank you all so much for joining me for this installment of the Mansfield Park reader series! What are your thoughts so far? How do you feel about Sir Thomas’s return? Maria’s marriage? Fanny’s new admirer? What do you think will happen in the next chapters of the novel? Let me know in the comments! I enjoy the comments, especially when they’re kind.

You’ll hear from me next week about chapters 26-31. In the meantime, happy reading!