Austen 250 Reader Series: Mansfield Park (Vol. II, Ch. 8-13)

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 26 through 31 of the novel. We’re officially halfway through the novel, having finished chapter 25 last week. There’s much in store in the pages ahead—a ball, some jewelry, and an admirer who’s growing even more admirable. . . . Let’s jump right into it.

For anyone who was excited about the thought of getting to see (or, rather, read) Fanny dancing, you’re in luck, because a ball is in the works. Sir Thomas decides that it would be great fun to host a ball—an indulgence for William, and an opportunity for Fanny’s coming-out. Mrs. Norris is less than thrilled; she expects that Sir Thomas would postpone such affairs, given that both of his daughters are out of town. Nevertheless, a ball is planned for William’s last full day at Mansfield.

Fanny, in typical Fanny fashion, is a bit stressed about the idea of a social event. (Been there!) She worries about what she might wear; in particular, she worries about her accessories, as the only jewelry she has is an amber cross that William brought her from Sicily. But she hasn’t anything to attach it to—no necklace or chain, “nothing but a bit of ribbon to fasten it to.” I’ve never resonated with Fanny more than now, while she’s stressing about what to wear for a party—even one in her own home!

While Fanny stresses over fashion, Edmund stresses over marriage. He’s thinking, of course, of Miss Crawford—the wife he wishes for, but whom “might yet be unattainable,” given her explicit refusal to be associated with the clergy, let alone be the wife of a clergyman! She looks down on Edmund’s chosen profession, and it’s causing him despair.

Edmund is not the only one thinking of Miss Crawford; Fanny, with her fashion troubles, seeks “the counsel of the more enlightened.” She visits Miss Crawford, asking for fashion advice. The dress is settled, but the necklace is up in the air. “’Shall you not wear your brother’s cross?’” suggests Miss Crawford. Fanny shares the problem: the necklace has no chain to which to attach it.

Miss Crawford is more than happy to assist with this issue. She offers Fanny a broad assortment of gold chains and necklaces, urging her to choose one. After some pressure—lots of pressure, actually—Fanny obliges Miss Crawford and chooses a necklace on which to set the cross.

But she doesn’t just choose any old necklace, oh no. No, the necklace that Fanny selects is one that was originally gifted to Miss Crawford by her brother, Fanny’s admirer—Henry Crawford! Fanny, on learning this information, immediately attempts to choose a different necklace, but Miss Crawford won’t have it. She insists that Fanny’s having the necklace will be no bother: “Take the necklace, and say no more about it.” So Fanny does, so as to not offend.

Oh, the things she does out of politeness.

When she arrives home, she goes to deposit the necklace—only to find Edmund in her room, at her desk, writing a note! It turns out he wanted to give her something. . . .

He presents to her a gold chain. Exactly what Fanny was looking for, perfectly matching the cross, modest, demure. . . . She is overjoyed!

But when she tells Edmund of the necklace that Miss Crawford just gave her, pondering whether she should return it, Edmund insists that she does not—should she risk offending her friend? No! She should wear that necklace first, undoubtedly. Edmund’s gold chain will suit simpler times. He doesn’t want any animosity between “’the two whose intimacy [he has] been observing with the greatest pleasure . . . between the two dearest objects [he has] on earth.’”

This language takes Fanny aback, and sinks her heart.

“She had never heard him speak so openly before, and though it told her no more than what she had long perceived, it was a stab;—for it told of his own convictions and views. They were decided. He would marry Miss Crawford.” — Vol. II, Ch. IX

Poor Fanny! When Edmund leaves, she clings to the unfinished note that he was leaving her. It’s handwritten, says “My very dear Fanny” on it. . . . How could she not hold it near and dear to her heart?

Big changes are continuing to happen. William’s pending departure will be accompanied by Henry Crawford, who wishes to travel to London and seeks his companionship. It means William will have to leave earlier, but means that William will be spared a more grueling journey. Fanny, thus, is grateful.

The ball looms near, and with it looms Fanny’s coming-out. With it also looms Edmund’s last dance with Miss Crawford. Why, you might ask? Well, because she’s explicitly told him so:

“She has never danced with a clergyman she says, and she never will.” — Vol. II, Ch. IX

Poor Edmund!

Soon, it’s time for the ball. Fanny, while getting ready, finds a happy scenario: the gross won’t even fit on the necklace chain, so she has no choice but to put it on the chain that Edmund gave her! What a happy occurrence—Fanny gets what she wants without having to worry about offending anyone! She’s so joyful that she even opts to wear the necklace from the Crawfords, in addition to the cross!

Her happiness shows, as it tends to in happy people; she’s glowing, looking gorgeous, and Edmund reserves dances with her—any but his first two, which have been reserved for Miss Crawford.

Who should have Fanny’s first dances? She’s beginning to worry about never being asked, but finally someone does. . . .

Who’s saving the day? Why, the valiant Mr. Crawford, of course! Fanny is torn between gratefulness and distress.

Distress wins over, though, when Sir Thomas, seeing her and Mr. Crawford (undoubtedly her suitor!) together, suggests that they open the ball together. This, of course, horrifies her: “To be placed above so many elegant young women! The distinction was too great.”

Despite Fanny’s worries, all goes well.

For Fanny, at least.

Edmund, by contrast, seems miserable. Miss Crawford has been causing him distress; she was happy at the first dance, but later “had absolutely pained him by her manner of speaking of the profession to which he was now on the point of belonging.” Poor Edmund!

Fortunately for everyone else, the ball concludes happily.

The next day, Fanny has an early breakfast, alone with her brother for the last time before his departure—

Oh, what’s that? Oh, right—they aren’t alone. Mr. Henry Crawford is there too. To Fanny’s disappointment. Obviously.

After breakfast, William and Mr. Crawford depart. Edmund soon leaves, too, gone for a week. Julia’s absence is also extended—she’ll be spending more time with the newlyweds. This leaves a very empty house, and the new empty space leaves a lot of attention for Fanny.

Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram, in finding the rest of their children gone, find themselves very grateful for Fanny: they are “very glad [they] took Fanny as [they] did, for now the others are away, [they] feel the good of it.” They hope, to each other, that Fanny will never leave them, at least not until she’s “invited to some other home that may reasonable promise her greater happiness than she knows here.”

There’s another soul who is very grateful for Fanny’s presence. Miss Crawford visits her to talk about Edmund. She’s been missing him, worried that her comments about the clergy went too far and too severely offended him.

“She was afraid she had used some strong—some contemptuous expressions in speaking of the clergy, and that should not have been. It was ill-bred—it was wrong. She wished such words unsaid with all her heart.” — Vol. II, Ch. XI

She’s especially feeling the weight of her actions now that she’ll be gone from Mansfield soon, with little time left to make amends—if there’s even time to see Edmund again. When she visits Fanny, she does a bit of compliment fishing. It doesn’t really work, though.

“Now Fanny could not bring herself to speak, and Miss Crawford was disappointed; for she had hoped to hear some pleasant assurance of her power, from one who she thought must know; and her spirits were clouded again.” — Vol. II, Ch. XI

Later that day, Miss Crawford finds her brother returned from London, back from his mysterious business. She entreats him to tell her what he went to do, but he’s secretive. . . . What is he hiding?

Though he won’t tell her about his business in London, he does tell her some other major news.

And, reader, it’s BIG.

“My mind is entirely made up,” he declares. “Will it astonish you? No—You must be aware that I am quite determined to marry Fanny Price.”

JAWS. DROPPED.

Until now, it had seemed as though marriage was not in the cards for Henry Crawford. But he’s insistent upon his plan, even as his sister wonders when this all came about. They agree that Fanny is marriage material: she’s gentle, modest, sweet, well-principled, religious. . . . What more could a man ask for?

He visits Mansfield bright and early the next morning, and it’s here that we learn the real reason for his visiting London: thanks in no small part to Mr. Crawford’s influence, William has been promoted to lieutenant!

Fanny is the first to learn; he wants her to know first. She undergoes, of course, a dizzying mix of emotions. Joyousness, first, of course—her brother has been promoted! But the joy does not remain pure for long; it is soon tainted:

“When she did understand it, however, and found herself expected to believe that she had created sensations which his heart had never known before, and that every thing he had done for William, was to be placed to the account of his excessive and unequalled attachment to her, she was exceedingly distressed.” — Vol. II, Ch. XIII

When he stays for dinner, she is even more bewildered. “How could she have excited serious attachment in a man . . . who seemed so little open to serious impressions?”

Even more confusing to her is the fact that Mary Crawford seems supportive of it; Henry delivers her a letter from Mary which seems to express just that sentiment.

Fanny is in denial. She’s unconvinced that Mr. Crawford’s affections are any more than “what he might often have expressed towards her cousins and fifty other women.” In other words: Mr. Crawford is a total womanizer!

Thank you all so much for joining me for this installment of the Mansfield Park reader series! What are your thoughts so far? What do you think will happen between Edmund and Miss Crawford? Do you believe that Mr. Crawford really wants to marry Fanny? Was his helping William get promoted a kindhearted gesture or a selfish ploy? 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 32-40. In the meantime, happy reading!