Citrusity

As most reading this may have noticed, my output on this Tumblr dropped considerably in the last few months after being spotty for a while.

In short, I turned my hobby into a chore and came to putting off reading and writing about Pride & Prejudice more and more as time went on.

I took a step back. Why did I want to write in the first place? Lust for gold? Power? Or was I just born with a heart full of prose?

As far as I can remember, I've always read. Horrible Histories and the BEANO at first, then things like Official Nintendo Magazine and novels as time went on. What you might notice is a strong under-current of levity in all of these inspirations that influences me to this day.

Now, I don't have the faintest clue how to write a long-running non-fiction humour series in this day and age; I've already tried my hand at comics with the Swingin' Sixties Anthology (scroll for a bit), and outright novels are relatively simple to make if you have the endurance.

But games journalism -- the likes of which has all but died out of its original print form -- that tantalised me. I'd always enjoyed paging through those old reviews, even the ones for games I already owned, because they were just so well-composed on the whole.

And so I pivoted.

Game reviews, previews and news have been flowing out of my secondary channel, Ante-penultimate Yarn, for a good few months now; but in all that time, I haven't felt satisfied with the presentation.

The content was excellent, don't get me wrong. I sent a few of those articles to an ONM ex-pat (might be the wrong term) and they gave the most gratifying feedback I've ever had.

That gave me a bit more confidence in playing with my content a bit more; currently I've got a series of personal essays on identity I want to put out there, but trying to categorise everything as either "Literature" or "Games" to cater to two different (and admittedly cozy) audiences is pointless at best and stifling at worst.

And so, starting today all my work past and present will be able to be found on https://catherinebroxton.blogspot.com/, which will also serve as a kind of portfolio when I start pitching my work around.

If you like any of the words I've strung together in sequence since December, I hope you'll thumb through the site when I've built it up a bit.

If adding another website to your bookmarks is a bit daunting, fear not : out of some sense of loyalty (and y'know, desire for people to actually discover my stuff), I plan to crosspost anything book-related to P.O.S (another reason for the rebrand is that that is a VERY poor acronym) and anything game-related to AnteYarn for the forseeable future.

Guaranteed to make a splash.

The year is 1935. There’s been a murder at sea, and no-one’s the wiser. For now.

Overboard! Is the latest interactive visual novel from inkle (developed over the course of six months using their specialist ink narrative game engine) and is an absolute delight. You play as Veronica Villansey, fading starlet and newlywed, who’s just bumped off her husband Malcolm. It’s up to you to keep her out of trouble until the boat docks in The New World in eight hours.

Over the course of the day you’re left to your own devices : kill the steward; pray to an uncaring God; bribe like mad - the boat is truly your oyster.

Of course, doing what you want is only fun when there’s a method to the madness, and your goals from the outset of each playthrough are listed at the top of the screen in a special menu after you obtain the ‘Good’ ending for the first time, keeping you focused on unearthing everything Overboard! has to offer and encouraging endless replays. For the record, I’m on my 34th as of this review. It’s just that good.

What keeps me coming back that much, you ask? Each line of dialogue is peppered with cutting wit from Jon Ingold, writer and narrative designer for the game, making every conversation a delight no matter how many times you see it (bear in mind that you can skip through familiar dialogue at the push of a button).

For all of its conversational cunning, Overboard! would be nothing more than a digitised Choose-Your-Own-Matricidal-Adventure book if not for Anastasia Wyatt’s glorious character designs. Although a lot of the game is spent staring at the cast in profile, Wyatt’s illustrations never make this a chore, breathing life into the relatively inanimate characters.

Each of these characters plays on a familiar murder mystery trope : Commander Anders, a charming seaman with a secret; Carstairs, a roguish gambler willing to risk it all, Lady Honoria, the bitter widow with a nose for secrets; the Major, an honourable old veteran seemingly unfazed by anything; Clarissa, the only one who seemed to care about Malcolm; and of course Veronica, a woman willing to do anything to get off the hook for her crime(s).

During my first playthrough, it was clear that I was only scratching the surface of what I could do, with my fellow passengers digging up incriminating information I didn’t even know about in the first end scene. And the second time. And the third.

The fourth time, my first taste of success in what turned out to be the ‘Best’ ending (you escape the blame for Malcolm’s death and net the life insurance to boot) was a bit of a fluke, as Veronica ended up doing time in half my subsequent attempts, and arrived in America without a penny to her name in the other half of them.

As far as accessibility goes, only the opening cutscene has any recorded dialogue, with Amelia Tyler lending her voice to Veronica’s recollection of the murder. Other than this, there is the option to restart any scene (bar the first and last) from the moment you enter reportedly once, though I found I could do it as often as I wanted on the Switch, which lessened the investment at times. At any time, you can rewind to the start of the story at 8am and remove all profanity, if you happen to want a 12-rated murder-fest.

Glitches like the endless scene restarts mentioned above were thankfully few in my time on the S.S Hook, but the game completely froze up during my 17th playthrough, which forced me to close the game and lose progress.

One issue, though not technically a glitch, is that when restarting a scene, you have to click to get rid of the screen displaying the time that blocks the action with a solid block of colour, which led to a few unintentional choices being made.

With playthroughs taking between 10 and 40 minutes, depending on whether you mess up so bad you opt for a watery grave or not, Overboard! need not be consumed all at once. Much like the bourbon biscuits Veronica can munch on in the restaurant, the game works best in small bursts, revealing more and more of its wider world to you as you go along.

Also, murder is thirsty work, you know? No shame in going for a dip in the ocean now and then. No doubt Veronica would agree.

+Cutting, witty dialogue

+Hours of replayability

+Charming and often vile cast

-Occasional leaps of logic in the plot

-Some glitches that can ruin playthroughs

7/10

Hello all, and welcome back to the internet. The eagle-eyed among you may notice that there hasn’t been anything from me in a little while. In short, I fell out of the writing habit thanks to deadlines and whatnot.

Thanks to everyone who’s been patient these last few weeks, but I’m doing my best to get back in the rhythm now and alongside P&P, I’m planning to share some of my better recent pieces on games. I know you’re all here for Literature, but any feedback would be welcome.

Now, without any further ado:

Each Tuesday, Catherine picks apart Pride & Prejudice chapter by chapter, with a healthy helping of humour to keep her going. One day, she will finish it. Today : Chapter 17, the aftermath of last chapter’s party.

"Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for every body."

Previously, William Collins, the man who will inherit Longbourne House when Mr Bennet dies, paid a visit to the Bennet so he could marry one of them and share the house. Why he doesn’t just waive his right to the house away if he’s such a pious fellow, I don’t know,

With Ms Jane Bennet being out of the picture thanks to her interest in Charles Bingley, new arrival to the area, Collins has set his sights on the other four, especially main character Lizzy.

In other news, Lizzy was (somewhat) shocked to learn that the aloof Mr Darcy - a good friend to Bingley and no one else - cheated his father’s godson, Mr Wickham, out of his promised inheritance.

Dying to share this scandalous story, the chapter opens with Lizzy confiding in Jane, to rather little avail. Despite her shock, Jane is eager to “defend the conduct of each” man. Darcy had every right to rob Wickham of house and home, she appears to argue, because both of them were “deceived”.

Now, although it is entirely possible that Wickham was stretching the truth a bit considering he’s our only source of information beyond Mr Darcy’s look of utter horror when bumping into him in Chapter 15, I’m inclined to think that the son of the lord who reportedly denied anything to the boy his father promised to care for might just be in the wrong.

Lizzy agrees with me, and is all too happy to mock Jane for trying to avoid forming any opinion whatsoever on the issue, but fails to get her to reconsider her (lack of) stance. This makes me doubt my earlier theory that Jane was essentially a self-insert for Austen, what with them sharing the same name and all, since she’s happy to skewer her with Lizzy here.

All that the two can agree on is that if all that Wickham shared was true, then Mr Bingley is liable to suffer the most when his friend’s old affairs become public. Maybe we’ll see some blackmailing later in the story?

No sooner do they discuss Bingley than he appears at their door, his sisters in tow. There to personally invite the family to Netherfield’s ball on Tuesday, the sisters opt to fawn over their good friend Jane and drag their brother away from the other Bennets instead. As a result, each of the Bennet women fantasise about the ball in their own way, unfettered by any details from their host.

Mrs Bennet is flattered that Bingley would hold an entire ball just for her darling Jane; Jane looks forward to talking to the Bingley sisters; and the rest dream of dancing in Mr Wickham’s arms. Lizzy also wants to study Mr Darcy to see how much he looks like the type to do what Wickham accused him of.

When Lizzy checks if Collins is going out of formality, she’s horrified to learn that not only does he plan to go, but that he wants to do some of it with her. Far too polite to turn him down and far too overcome with elation to even feign disinterest in the idea of dancing, she goes along with it. At this point, it’s clear to her that Collins has her in his cross-hairs. Whether she actually takes him up on it or not, I guess we’ll find out next week.

Footnotes

Did Bingley make the trip from Netherfield on foot? Because if not, then he made several of his servants go out of their way to deliver a message that a letter could far more efficiently.

Not much else to say on such a short chapter, but I might split the next one into two parts.

Each week, Catherine shares her inane thoughts on Pride & Prejudice chapter by chapter until it’s done. Today : Chapter 16.

"Mrs Phillips was very thankful for [Collins'] compliance, but could not wait for his reason."

Previously, William Collins (the inheritor of Longbourn House) paid a visit to the Bennet household with the intention of marrying one of the girls. With Miss Bennet (Jane) out of the question due to her entanglement with Mr Bingley, his sights have turned to the other four, with little luck.

Last chapter, the girls (minus Mary) paid a visit to their aunt’s house with Collins and encountered Mr Darcy on the way, as well as an enigmatic newcomer called Mr Wickham who seemed to have some history with him.

The chapter begins with everyone returning to the Phillips’ household after their aunt invited them back at the end of the last chapter, this time with Mary in tow. Some soldiers and the enigmatic Mr Wickham also attend at Mr Phillips’ behest.

As ever, Collins decides to make his obsession with Lady Catherine de Borough everyone’s problem by cryptically comparing Mrs Phillips’ drawing-room (living room or lounge) to a “small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings”, which is her ladyship’s estate (not that Mrs Phillips would know that).

After taking the time to explain how his compliment was a compliment, Collins spends much of his time there talking with his host and dining on muffins out of the way of the more eligible bachelors there that the Bennets flock to, including Mr Wickham.

Much like his adversary, Wickham takes a liking to Elizabeth and spends time with her while the group is engaged in card games. Despite her curiosity, neither her or myself expected Wickham to pull back the curtain on his history with Darcy so soon.

Apparently friends with (and godson of) the deceased father of Mr Darcy, Wickham is appalled by the “scandalous” behavior (being snide and not dancing all that much) of the inheritor of the title, and likely jealous of the £10,000 annual income Fitzwilliam Darcy gets.

His godfather Darcy had planned to make sure he was provided for with lodging and the like, but when the time to fulfill the will came, our Darcy did not take that part as a rule, so much as a foolish suggestion. Or at least, that’s what Wickham assumes happened.

Out of respect for his father, Wickham has refused to publicly disgrace Darcy for this injustice, but has been very verbal about his feelings about him, especially to his face.

Although she wasn’t exactly fond of Mr Darcy anyway, this comes as a shock to Elizabeth and she thinks to herself for a few minutes on the man she’d met and how he measured up to this cruel creature who cast his childhood companion aside due to his immense pride.

Despite their history, Wickham will admit that the different kinds of pride that sway Mr Darcy can at times lead him to do good for its sake, such as being a good host to guests and a good brother to Miss Darcy, who Wickham says is “very, very proud”, just like her brother, despite the time he devoted to playing with her in her youth.

When he hears of Darcy’s relationship with Mr Bingley, Wickham brushes it off as Darcy choosing when to act respectably. When in the company of the rich, he theorises that Darcy is “liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable” and more; none of which we’ve seen in him so far, but it would line up with how Bingley treats him.

After the card game is over, Collins shares with Mrs Phillips that his loss doesn’t bother him much thanks to Lady Catherine’s patronage, which Wickham overhears. He reveals to Elizabeth that her ladyship is Mr Darcy’s aunt. What an incredibly small world.

He goes on to similarly decry her as he decried Mr Darcy - as “an arrogant, conceited [person]” who knows the right time to act respectable. Elizabeth is inclined to agree with his assessment of a woman she has never met and he has scarcely seen and kept talking up until supper, when the noise would drown them out too much to communicate.

On the way home, Wickham and his words linger in Elizabeth’s mind, while Lydia rambled about her losses in the card games and Collins rambled about the Phillips’ excellent hosting skills, as well as the contents of each dish, which lasted far beyond the carriage ride back to Longbourn.

Thoughts

Not much I can say about this one, really, but this substantial 10-page chapter framed the party quite well.

This quick unearthing of the mystery established in the last chapter makes me wonder if Wickham was being entirely honest with his account.

A shame we didn’t get much of Kitty and Lydia mingling with the soldiers.

Thank you to mrieke89 and joiedecombat for setting me straight on the whole "Miss Bennet" thing. They've spared you all about 50 paragraphs of rambling about it, so make sure to gratitude their way.

Each week, Catherine shares her inane thoughts on Pride & Prejudice chapter by chapter until it’s done. Today : Chapter 15.

"Such doings discomposed Mr Bennet exceedingly."

Today’s chapter begins with Collins’s origin story - raised by the “illiterate and miserly” man Mr Bennet would quarrel with over the years, making him humble, or so Austen claims, despite depriving him of much education. Chance led him to Lady Catherine’s doorstep as a Rector and made him the mix of “pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility” that he is today. This juxtaposition of “pride” and “humility” suggests quite the storm of emotions guiding Collins, as those don’t tend to work together well.

We learn a whole paragraph before Mrs Bennet that his real motivation for visiting Longbourn was to choose one of the girls to marry as he now possessed the “good house and very sufficient income” you needed to get married back then. He thought this was an excellent way to make amends to their father for inheriting the family’s property - when Mr Bennet dies, now his estate can be passed to whichever one of his daughters the Reverend happens to marry. So much better than, say, passing the deed onto Mrs Bennet to do what she pleases, as well as ensuring all of the girls have somewhere to live regardless of their personal merit to him, I’m sure.

As the book says, “Mr Collins was not a sensible man”.

Less sensible, apparently, is Mrs Bennet, who takes this news with delight. Not only will she be able to partially succeed at her life’s sole mission (marrying her daughters off), she’ll also get the chance to rely on them having a happy marriage in order to live in her own home as a guest. Lucky her! (Of course, I say this with no knowledge on Regency Era inheritance practices, but that doesn’t mean those practices should have been there in the first place, whatever they are.)

Although “Miss Bennet” (apparently Jane) was the first to catch his eye, Collins easily switches his romantic interest to Elizabeth when Mrs Bennet hints at her possible engagement with Mr Bingley. It’s that easy for him to pick and choose which young girl deserves to inherit her home through a marriage to him. The eagle-eyed among you will note that the girls don’t appear to have much of a say in all of this. Those of you beyond hope will say it’s simply a story about getting married and that any analysis is overthinking it.

The next day, the sisters (except for Mary) go on a walk to Merryton and Collins joins them at Mrs Bennet’s prompting. Mr Bennet is far from sad to see Collins leave him in the library in peace for a little bit, having been bombarding the man with questions while making a show of trying to read a large book.

As they reach Merryton, one of the military men Kitty and Lydia are so enamoured with, Mr Denny, catches the girls’ eyes and introduces them all to his friend Mr Wickham, a new recruit to their corps. And with that, Collins has two rivals to the affections of the Bennet sisters, or to Kitty and Lydia’s affections at least. No sooner do they start talking that Messrs Darcy and Bingley veer around the corner on horses. At this rate, Collins would be lucky to settle for Mary by the time they get back home.

However, as Darcy does his best to avoid embarrassing himself with a long look at Lizzy, he notices Mr Wickham and they both change colour - one a pale white and the other a flushed red. They try to brush it off with a formal cap-doffing, but their mutual history is obvious. (Again, I know Pride and Prejudice is not the book to go to for accounts of the sordid adventures bachelors had in their youth, but I do hope Austen doesn’t leave us at “it was impossible not to long to know.”)

The gentlemen part ways with the ladies (and Collins) and they head to their aunt Mrs Phillips’ house for a surprise visit, as Kitty and Lydia had originally planned. She receives her beloved nieces and their strange, apologetic man warmly, but all she can tell them about the enigmatic Mr Wickham is that he was in the area “to have a lieutenant's commission in the ---shire”. It actually says “---shire”. I think this is Austen’s way of keeping her book out of a specific place and time, much like how so many classics are set in the year 17-- or 17??, but considering she went to the trouble of naming so many places already, she may as well have grouped them under a unifying Shire.

They spend the rest of the visit playing games and enduring another instance of Collins apologising profusely for something that isn’t an issue (this time it’s leaving the room). Elizabeth tries to tell Jane what she thought she saw happen between Darcy and Wickham, to no avail. They go home with the invitation to return the following evening, presumably for some kind of party. Another fine day ends with the Bennet matriarch pleased at report that only his dear, dear Lady Catherine could exceed Phillips’s elegance.

Thoughts

Every time “Miss Bennet” is mentioned in the book, it’s Jane. Is there something about being on the cusp of engagement that makes you a real woman?

Oh, to live in the ---shire countryside back in the ??ies!

Although I joked about it earlier, I would not be surprised if Collins ends up marrying Mary, since all of the others seem quite paired up.

Yes, I did forget to put a quote in last week and yes, I did decide to just leave it as it was for prosperity.

Each week, Catherine shares her inane thoughts on Pride & Prejudice chapter by chapter until it’s done. Today : Chapter 14.

Last chapter, Reverend Collins paid a visit to Longbourn House to try and build the bridge his father burnt with Mr Bennet, though made no sign of giving up his inheritance of the house whenever Bennet dies, leaving Mrs Bennet and the girls homeless (or at least out of the only home they’ve ever known until they get married off). He’s also hinted at the ulterior motive for his visit with a few more compliments towards the girls than is demanded by regency society customs before heading off to dinner.

After dinner, Mr Bennet decides to try and build a rapport with him by bringing up the Reverend’s adored patron, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. This turns out to be his favourite subject, as he goes on for reams of 3rd-person-narrated text paying compliments to her every aspect, including her allowance of him neglecting his parish for weeks to visit relatives, her two invitations to dinner and especially her “condescension” (presumably he means her daring to speak with the lower classes with some semblance of dignity, which is pretty impressive for the time, I’d bet, but a low bar). Whether this woman actually shows up in the book, I don’t know, but I would love to see Collins platonically fawning over her before I deface this book into oblivion with my annotations.

He goes on to mention a young lady who I’m certain will make an appearance in later chapters - the Lady’s sole daughter, heir to Rosings Park. According to our very biased correspondent, she is the “most charming”, and “far superior” to other women when it comes to “true beauty” (which I now realise two weeks after last reading the chapter is probably referring to a kind personality). Unfortunately, she has such a “sickly constitution” that she hasn’t been able to keep up academically with her peers, nor had the chance to be presented like an item up for auction in the romantic flavour of court.

Admiring his cousin’s “talent of flattering with delicacy”, Bennet comes away from their tete-a-tete with the distinct impression that Collins is as “absurd” as can be, but makes sure to keep composure and engage as keenly as possible with him until tea-time.

Wrangled into doing a reading, Collins refuses to read something as lowly as a novel. No, he is eager to point out, but a big book of sermons will do. Surprisingly, Lydias finds his “monotonous” reading quite dry and interrupts with an update on her and (her apparently renamed for this chapter to avoid confusion with Lady Catherine) Kitty’s favourite soldiers. I’ve no idea why her Ladyship is so eager to let him go for weeks on end - he can sure get a crowd eating from the palm of his hand!

The Revered takes offence at this and goes on a little passive-aggressive whinge about how it’s written for their own good, and how much young people are in need of “instruction”, but vows to “no longer importune” the girls and offers their father a game of Backgammon, which could be a metaphor for something for all I know. What even is Backgammon? Is it like Draughts? A Card game? Something to do with Gammon? Who knows?

Anyway, the chapter closes out with Collins emphasising that he bears no ill will towards any of the Bennets at all while Mrs Bennet tries to assure him it won’t happen again. This situation feels familiar, but the roles are reversed. Interesting.

Thoughts

I listened to an audiobook of this chapter earlier. It was six minutes long. This piece took me 70 minutes to write (with a couple of cat-centric interruptions). Hm.

I guess Collins doesn’t outright reveal why he’s really visiting yet, but the dominoes are sure lining up.

Is Catherine Bennet going to be Kitty all the time from now on? Even in the narration?

For whatever reason, I have regained my passion for this text. Yay.

In the interest of not disappearing silently again for a month, I'll send this update now.

House-cleaning of both kinds took far longer than I anticipated this last week, so I'll be writing up P&P 14 tomorrow and posting either then or on Thursday.

It's times like this where I'm glad I'm not an actual reviewer with deadlines and what-have-you, as opposed to the person tapping into the tumblr void that I am.

Each week, Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 13.

"I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarelling with you, as his father did before him?"

After some time recovering from a cold, both myself and Jane are back at the Bennet household, where no time is spared in turning the entirety of the family’s attention to the impending arrival of their cousin William Collins, clergyman and heir to the Bennet home ahead of Mr Bennet’s daughters.

Naturally, Mrs Bennet isn't fond of the idea of her daughters mingling with the man destined to take their home, which is likely why her husband kept the letter from a man “whom [he] had never met” a secret when he received it a month ago and sent a reply two weeks ago.

Upon hearing of this, she does her best to blame him for allowing his distant relation to be entitled to the family estate, but changes her tune when she looks at the letter. We go on a brief epistolary route, where Collins reveals his deep desire to patch up the disagreement between his father and Mr Bennet, likely something to do with the inheritance of the house. At some point, Bennet felt willing to give this man of the cloth a chance and can be expected at four in the afternoon.

As they await his arrival, the family speculate on the nature of this man, so very eager to make amends with the family he has every intention of booting out once their father dies.

Jane wishes to give him the benefit of the doubt for trying to extend the olive branch, whereas Lizzy finds his writing pompous, likely due to the repeated references to his good friend Lady Catherine, and Mary decides to analyse the quality of the letter as if it wasn’t an actual correspondence that could affect the trajectory of her life. Catherine and Mary couldn't care less about the letter as it was highly unlikely their guest would come in the red coat of the military, as all those of any interest these days to them did.

Collins arrives on time and spends the first few hours in the company of the girls while Mr Bennet keeps quiet around the “tall, heavy looking man of five and twenty” at first. Following in the footsteps of so many men before him, he compliments Mrs Bennet for making such fine young ladies, and she does her best to nudge the topic towards the “grievous affair” that is his inheritance of the family home. He announces his intention to “admire” the girls of the house as a means of resolving that tricky matter, for reasons he will impart later on.

For now, his admiration turns to everything around him on his way to dinner, from the halls to the furniture, quite possibly mentally rearranging his own furniture around the place ahead of time as far as Mrs Bennet is concerned.

The chapter ends with him apologising as profusely as he can for daring to suggest that the Bennet sisters had to prepare dinner when they had a perfectly good chef in their employ. Not that Mrs Bennet was offended at all, but he is most eager to make a good impression on them.

Thoughts

I already know what Collins has in mind for his visit, but I still think he’s being a bit much.

I know it’s been a while, see my last post for context, but I’m hoping to finish the first “book” of P&P like this and take an official break before part two.

It is nice to get a break from Darcy and Bingley for a few chapters

In writing the above, I realised that I got Bingley and Bennet mixed up for the entirety of my article. That’ll teach me to finish things at 11pm.

Hi, hello, salut, hola, bonjour, and welcome back to my little corner (taking up approximately 0.00000000000000932%) of the internet. It’s been a while, did you get a haircut? I sure haven’t, but more on that in a minute.

I last posted about a month ago with one of the last chapters of Pride & Prejudice that I’d got to on my last read-through.

Fortunately, I didn’t go quiet because I abandoned the book again.

Unfortunately, I’ve been ill for a while and couldn’t string two good words together, so I regretfully put this hobbyist writing thing on hold until the day came that I felt well enough to get back to it.

That day is today. Sort of.

I’ve been meaning to write this up either as a prelude to the next P&P installment or as its own post (like this) for about two weeks, but I wanted to get it done and out there before I share anything else.

In other words - come next Tuesday, there will be a fresh P&P piece on this very page before the day is through. I’ll probably get on it in a minute. It’s a pretty good chapter, in all honesty.

Now, onto business of a self-promoting nature :

I worked on a short horror comic with Dan Yell a while back that’s finally seen the light of day in Tales from the Dispatch Vol. 2 (you can download it straight from their front page too).

The two of us were involved in the Swingin’ Sixties Anthology, which has finally launched today. I did a comic with Michael Scully about love and loss and fear and bravery and the sixties as a whole, as you do.

If you send proof you donated $5 or more to the W.H.O, they (me, if you go through IG or email) will send you the behind the scenes PDF, which is a load of excellent artwork. If you like my work, but wish there was less of me in it, it’s a dream come true.

I’ve also been running the Instagram account into the ground since July, so feel free to peruse that too.

So, two fine free PDFs there to fill up your hard drive. What else were you going to put on there, anyway? Actually, don’t answer that.

All that matters is that I wrote both of these stories about a year ago and though I’d like to think I’m a better writer now, I’m glad people can see where I was at, creatively speaking, in the early days of lockdown.

One other thing before I go - when I was setting up this blog thingie, I created an account on Instagram to support it, but what with the verbose writing style and me being busy enough trying to promote my comic work, I let it fall aside. I admit that the poems suited the format, but I think I’ll close it up and let my work speak for itself (um… in as much as I talk over it with asides like this, that is) for now.

Each week, Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 12.

"They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother."

For the last few chapters, Jane Bennet has been recuperating in the Bingley household after falling ill on the way there. Her sister Lizzy joined her to help her recover somehow, dashing their mother’s hopes that Jane would grow closer to Charles Bingley during her visit. Now, she’s beginning to pick up, even going as far as leaving her room in the last chapter.

Since she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life as his tenant, Lizzy sends a letter off home asking Mrs Bennet to bring a carriage around for them. Since she still holds onto the hope that Jane and Bingley will bond, she responds with a message that must have been delivered either on foot or using the very carriage Lizzy wants to take saying that she simply cannot until at least Tuesday, but can delay that if Jane or Bingley want. I can understand why Jane would need the carriage in her state, but considering that Lizzy walked there from her home in the first place, I don’t really see why she can’t do that now Jane is doing better.

Utterly unfazed by this, Ms Bennet decides to take her host’s carriage to get home as soon as possible, which gives each of the Netherfieldians (Netherfieldites?) pause for thought. Charles is in no small way devastated by the news, Ms Bingley blames her “jealousy and dislike” of Lizzy for driving Jane away and Mr Darcy thinks it’s about time, as she’s been such a distraction to him and made his good friend Ms Bingley tease him so much. The nerve of that woman!

To make sure Lizzy does not change her mind, he decides to conceal all signs of affection and interest towards her just to be safe speaking “scarcely” ten words to her throughout Saturday, and kept his eyes solely on his book when left alone with her for half an hour. Clearly, he has a way with the ladies. Conversely, Ms Bingley taps into a hitherto unknown vein of love that she targets at the Bennet sisters, doing all she can to keep Jane around because the girls can’t possibly lead separate lives.

After church, the Bennets take their leave and go back to their mother’s scornful arms. Her schemes dashed to pieces because Lizzy wouldn’t stay at Bingley’s house for another three days. On the other hand, her father is quite quietly pleased to have them back to restore the usual family balance. So far, we have heard little about what the Bennet household has been up to without the two girls, and I doubt we’ll get filled in much as everything is described as having “lost it’s animation” in their absence.

Despite this, we learn that Mary has been quietly reading, and Catherine and Lydia have been keeping track of their favourite soldiers, detailing a rather unpleasant flogging in thankfully few words. So nothing out of the ordinary, really.

Thoughts

When the camera is on Lizzy, the rest of the world stops turning, it would seem.

The best laid plans of Bennets and Men have gone awry again.

Mr Darcy is really misdirecting his issues with Charlotte Bingley, but at least he made parting easier.

This Beta post editor actually carries over my italiscised text and whatnot from Google Docs! Jolly good show.

Each week, Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 11.

“He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.“

Today, as for the last few chapters, Lizzy and her sister Jane take up space in Charles Bingley’s home while Jane recovers from what appears to be a mild cold that’s ravaging her. At last, Jane leaves her room with Lizzy’s help to do what she came there to do : have a chat after dinner. It seems that for all their deplorable attitudes towards Lizzy, Bingley’s sisters sincerely like Jane, demonstrating “considerable” conversation skills before the men join them.

But they do, and then “Ms Bingley’s eyes were immediately drawn to Mr Darcy”. Whether she wanted to bring something of a jealous or Lizzy-related subject I’m unclear, but attention is soon turned to Jane as the household finally get acquainted with the woman who’s been eating their supplies for half a week and spare no expense in making her as comfortable as possible. This comes at Mr Hurst’s expense as no-one accepts his “open petition” for playing cards and promptly drifts off by the fireplace.

As the waking characters take to good literature for entertainment, we find that Ms Bingley can’t seem to take her eyes off of the Darciest of Darcys. I suppose this infatuation was built up by her jealousy of his interest in Lizzy, but it still feels sudden to me. Were the chapters of this book, like a lot of literature that lasted from that time to now, serialised in a newspaper or something? Because that might explain it. Maybe it’s just me who finds this Love Triangle a bit rushed. She fails to get his attention, much like in the last chapter, and decides to give up on her book to announce to absolutely no-one in particular that she loves reading so much that she must have an “excellent library” when the times comes, presumably directing a glance or two at Darcy before giving up.

Talk (well, just Ms Bingley at the moment) turns back to the prospect of a Bingley Ball⧫ happening soon and the fact that some people present with social anxiety who won’t engage in a meaningful conversation with certain other people present might find it “rather a punishment than a pleasure”. Charles Bingley has no patience for his sister’s niceties and says that his good friend Darcy is welcome to go to bed before the party starts should he wish to.

Ms Bingley, who Charles reveals to be called Caroline rather loudly expresses her wish that balls were less like balls than they are. He responds as you only can, with “it would not be near so much as a ball”, to which she falls silent, walks up and down the room to catch Mr Darcy’s eye with her elegance before persuading Lizzy (and trying to persuade him) to do the same. Truly, this book is deserving of its ‘classic’ status for scenes such as these that really pin down what love was all about - going back-and-forth like a peacock in mating season.

When he, like all of us, wonders what on Earth these ladies are playing at and asks them in far more words, Lizzy decides to not play his dastardly games and clarify exactly what he means, but Caroline cannot help herself and learns that he’s quite happy to watch them from the fire if the point was to catch his eye. Even though this seems to be exactly what she intended, Caroline is outraged and drags Lizzy into a (presumably over-acted) plot to teach him a lesson. Lizzy draws the line at laughing and Darcy adds that the great equalizer amongst men is laughing at someone “whose first object in life is a joke”. Whether he (or Austen) is alluding to the futility of spending your life looking for a husband to get married to have children to get them husbands to have children and so on is not entirely clear, but seems likely. Lizzy retorts that “vanity and pride” are the objects of ridicule he must surely mean, to which he insists that pride is always well-regulated when the proud has “a real superiority of the mind”.

With a stifled chuckle, Lizzy’s examination of Fitzwilliam ends. Her diagnosis? He has “no defect”. The first to debate this is, naturally, Darcy himself, who highlights his unwavering temper for her consideration, quashing any false accusations of perfection. Ms Bingley feels a bit left out of this conversation and decides there will be music, ordering her sister to join in. And so another chapter ends, and I go to get some sleep. It’s 1am as I write this and I regret nothing.

⧫Not actually a ball it seems. Ignore my misinformation and alliteration.

Thoughts

I think we have everyone’s names now. Why the prose couldn’t have mentioned them, I don’t know.

The Love Triangle has gotten so obvious even I have noticed it.

Surprisingly little of Jane in the chapter. If she was replaced with a pet cat, I don’t think it would affect the story too much here.

My schedule has shifted so that Tuesday is my best day for this kind of thing. Readers new and old - make a note on your calendar or spend eternity forever two days behind the rest.

Each week, Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 10.

“Mr Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.” 

N.b - Apologies to all two or three of my loyal readers - I had a bunch of deadlines last week that ended up pushing my work on this back. Business as usual resumes next week.

Yet another day passes in the Bingley household, where Jane recuperates in bed in the hopes of getting her to bond with the head of the house, Mr Charles Bingley. 

This time, her condition has begun to improve, though is referred to by Austen as 

“the invalid”, which I think is over-dramatic and a bit dehumanising, though I know society’s views on disability and levels of empathy to those not in predetermined ‘perfect’ condition fluctuates. 

Anyway.

That evening, Lizzy does some needlework and listens in on Ms Bingley’s conversation with Mr Darcy, in as much as a barrage of questions and comments while trying to write a letter to your sister can be called a conversation. At first, he tries to brush her off subtly, batting off her non-sequiturs with short sentences like “You are mistaken.”. Whether due to her ignorance or her determination to disrespect his personal boundaries, she does not pick up on his hints and presses him to add her desire to chat with his sister in a business-related letter.

When Darcy suggests putting it in another letter some other time under the excuse of not being able “to do it justice” in this one. In response, she completely disregards the importance of what she wanted and her brother enters the conversation. Little does he know that this will turn all talk to him and a debate on false modesty and the nature of compliments for around three pages.

At last, Lizzy lets Darcy get to the business of finishing his letter, which is wrapped up in a line so short in contrast to the reams of writing that detailed their debate that you have to feel bad for the guy. All he wanted was to write a letter home and the Bingleys won’t give him a moment of peace.

Speaking of peace, once the letter is complete he asks the most eligible ladies of the house for some music and all the while he keeps his eyes on Lizzy as she leads the singing and piano-forteing. Naturally, she fails to take a hint and assumes he’s eyeing her the most out of everyone there because she is “more wrong and reprehensible”. Clearly they’re at cross-purposes at the moment.

When the songs come to an end, Lizzy is offered a dance by Mr Darcy, but does not respond. When asked again, she replies with a detailed analysis of all hypothetical scenarios the question entails, from saying ‘yes’ and being judged for it, to saying ‘no’ and being judged for it. To wit, she settles on ‘no’, hoping to antagonise our favourite introvert and instead being “amazed at his gallantry” when he refuses to act snide about it. A low bar, but this could be the turning point in their relationship. No idea how they’ll pad out the next 50 chapters.

This is all it takes to draw Ms Bingley’s ire. In spite of her “great anxiety” (apparently) for Jane, she offers no resistance to her jealous feelings and tries to turn Darcy against Lizzy on a little walk round the grounds. And so for the second time that evening, Darcy is bothered by someone who will not take a hint. From insinuations that he should not ever get a portrait of Lizzy lest it not quite “do justice to those beautiful eyes” to stressing how much Mrs Bennet might try to get in his business should he court her child, she will not waver. If not for the fact that they stumble into Lizzy and Mrs Hurst also taking a walk (presumably to try and dissuade Lizzy).

At the sight of all three of them standing in a row (the pathway is too narrow for her to join the line-up), Lizzy declares them to be so “charmingly group’d” (dripping with sarcasm, obviously) that she couldn’t possibly spoil the view. In Austen’s words, “She then ran gaily off”. A bit childish, but at least she gets to check on Jane, who is picking up enough to leave her room later on. One day, she may actually leave their home, but sadly not yet.

Thoughts

Pretty impressive study into Bingley’s character here

Ms Bingley’s motivations are a little shallow, but the whole book’s about the pursuit of marriage, so I’ll allow it

Honestly not much else. I started this piece a week ago and came back to it with a completely derailed train of thought. Manage your time, kids!

Actually, I did learn Mr Darcy’s first name since my last post : Fitzwilliam

Each week, Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 9.

“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he.

Another day passes in the Bingley household, where Lizzy waits on her mildly ill sister Jane in the hopes of getting her to bond with the head of the house, Mr Charles Bingley. 

This time, she sends a letter back home to their mother Mrs ‘Name Unknown’ Bennet to get her opinion on Jane’s situation. For the uninitiated, she was the one who hoped so fervently that Jane would have to stay at Netherfield Park when a downpour started, but did not imagine Jane would be caught in it and spend her time there solely in bed.

In any case, she turns up before Lizzy’s breakfast is done with two more of her daughters, presumably there either out of concern for Jane, or to make Mrs Bennet look like an excellent mother somehow. I do wonder how they got to Netherfield, and so quickly. If they took a carriage (and considering the amount of detail put into Lizzy’s walk there, I doubt they had a stroll), then I do wonder why Bingley doesn’t insist they take the bed bound girl home. Perhaps it’s one of those unspoken things, where each party plays by the arbitrary rules for an implied outcome, here being him and Jane growing closer, which is looking unlikely for the moment.

To her credit, Mrs Bennet is described as being “miserable” if she had discovered Jane in a terrible state, so she isn’t all that bad. She slips back into her false pretenses, thanking Jane’s having “such good friends” in the Ms Bingley’s, who have said nothing to her as far as I can tell in the last two days, with some really exaggerated and performative sympathy when out of Jane’s sight. They did give her a room, I suppose, but I feel it was Bingley’s choice more than theirs, what with it being his house.

Talk turns to him alluding to being somewhat unreliable when asked about the short lease on the house. If he decides to, he says, he would “be off in five minutes”. Since this is a romance novel, I doubt I’ll get my wish, but all signs point to Charles having something of a secret life from his business dealings to willingness to leave his home behind in minutes should he need to.

Lizzy chimes in with an admittedly more accurate assessment of him, and is revealed to be so utterly bored with her Regency-era life that intensely scrutinising the behaviours of the people around her is considered “wild”. When skimming through the chapter in advance, I assumed she had gone for a run at the very least. Consider me disappointed. 

As ever, Darcy joins the conversation with a sneer aimed at those who live in the country and their low quantity of “intricate” and “amusing” characters. At least, that’s how Mrs Bennet, proud as ever, understood it. She counters by asserting that the “far pleasanter”  countryside is full of oddballs and eccentrics on a par with those in the town, and how dare he say otherwise! With little luck, Lizzy points out that her mother misunderstood the good gentleman (My, how people change their minds on each other!) and asks if her friend Ms Lucas had been around if only to change the subject. The poor, naive fool. Nothing will stop Mrs Bennet from chatting about the ladies and gentlemen that surround her.

Nothing.

Here follows a little tirade on how Ms Charlotte had to leave early for what Mrs Bennet presumes to be doing the work of servants for the household, despite her father being a knight which I imagine comes with certain perks. She is 20, admittedly. No sooner does she put the entire Lucas family down as “plain” does she lift up her daughters, especially Jane. Even Mrs Lucas prefers Jane over her own children, she’ll have you know.

She brags that when “only fifteen” (looks like there is a line to even her quest to marry people off) a gentleman came around and took an interest in her. To her regret (Um... It was a different time, I guess?), this goes nowhere beyond a couple of sonnets written for Jane by the man, as was the way at the time. Lizzy blames the love failing thanks to a sonnet starving out the “thin sort of inclination”, though I blame it on the child not really being interested in the gentleman, even if she had been prepped to marry one like him.

The evening drags on and it’s time for Mrs Bennet to do the decorum dance with the Bingley’s where everyone is forced to get involved in thanking and apologising most profusely in an “unaffectedly civil” manner, as Austen puts it. Before they go back, one of the daughters that came with her, Lydia, demands Mr Bingley deliver on the ball he promised back when he moved in a few chapters ago. We learn that Lydia is apparently “a favourite” of her mother’s (Somewhere, Jane stirs in her sleep. She will not stand being usurped.), has “wild animal spirits”, whatever that means, that tend to draw a lot of attention to her. He assents gladly and we will presumably follow up on this in good time.

With the majority of the Bennets finally gone (Lizzy stays to keep watch over Jane), the Ms Bingleys are free to critique and pick apart their former guests behind their back. Mr Darcy declines to get involved, and receives a barb from them about Lizzy’s “fine eyes” as he confided in them about last time. Poor fellow.

Thoughts

If this was a bit short, it’s because I read it first  on my phone, where you can’t exactly scribble random thoughts onto the page annotate it

Was Mary/Catherine left out of the visit...or did they not care about Jane?!

No character development today.

Is Darcy going to fall victim to this teasing for the rest of the volume?

Each week, Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 8.

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

After Jane fell ill on a visit last chapter, she and Lizzy have been staying in Bingley’s home with his sisters, Mr Darcy and Mr Hurst. Curiously, Bingley is yet to appear, but Mr Darcy made sure to get his appearance in.

The next day, Lizzy continues to attend to Jane whenever possible, and spends her mealtimes in a duel of wits with Bingley’s sisters. Almost all of this chapter entails one of these debates, which is a nice change from the parties.

At any given opportunity Mrs Louisa Hurst (It’s upon reading this name that I realise the dreary Mr Hurst from the last chapter is her husband. Silly me.) and her sister express the most dramatic and surely most sincere concerns for Jane as Elizabeth, still tired from her walk and her fear for Jane’s condition, gives little answer to their flood of questions. In no time at all, they drop back out of her good books, which sets the tone of the chapter nicely.

When she dares to quit the room to get back to her sister, the only reason she’s there, the Bingley sisters waste no time in talking behind Lizzy’s back for her poor manners, “pride* and impertinence”, “wild” appearance the day before and filthy petticoat. What do you expect her to look like after walking across the countryside in clothing in no way designed for it?

It’s here that Bingley pops up to defend Lizzy’s honour, stating that he did not notice the mud on her petticoat when she arrived. In all fairness, I did not notice him at the time either. But his choice of thing to defend Lizzy on suggests that his sisters are trying to downplay the eligibility of the Bennets somewhat, especially seeing as they try to broach the idea that Darcy’s interest in Lizzy’s eyes has faded thanks to the wild gleam the exercise brought them. He thinks quite the reverse, but stops mid-sentence and does not continue, so we are denied his reasoning.

The gossip then turns to the wider Bennet family, and the fact that they have an uncle living near Cheapsake (which does not conjure up the grandest of images, I admit) is cause for laughter from the sisters. Bingley, again, steps up to defend the Bennets and Darcy points out in his usual way that having family in such a poor place must hamper their relationship avenues somewhat, to which Bingley falls quiet. I do wonder if Charles (that’s his name) would join in with the elitist mockery if he was not trying to marry one of them.

With dinner out of the way, the Hursts and Miss Bingley decide to mock Lizzy with faint praise for preferring to read over playing the dull card games Mr Hurst delights in, and Mr Bingley, yet again, steps in to defend her. This is starting to feel chivalrous. Anyway, he offers her all the books in the house, which, considering she probably won’t be staying for more than a week at most, shows that he really does read as little as he says. Or maybe Ms Bennet is quite the voracious reader, in which case I envy her. 

Scant details about Mr Darcy’s life are shared next : his family library at Pemberley (I did not think he actually lived in Bingley’s house full-time! Really.) is forever being stocked with more and more books by him (Is this Austen the author’s depiction of the ideal man? Probably not, but I too admire his interest in literature.) and his sister is about Lizzy’s height and is skilled with the piano “for her age”. How short is Lizzy to be compared to someone young enough for “for her age” to be in any way a viable compliment?

This prompts Mr Bingley to go on a tangent about the skills and accomplishments that every woman he meets is said to possess, revealing that the only women he knows that he isn’t related to are those introduced to him as potential wives who “paint tables” and similar nonsense thanks to the limitations of Regency era society on women. Darcy disagrees with him, if only to say that though many women have these talents, very few are “accomplished” in an intellectual capacity to be worth his time.

Lizzy, his “faithful assistant” (?) agrees with him and goes on to list all the qualities a woman like her “must have” to deserve anything, including singing, dancing and foreign languages. These poor rich girls! So much pressure around landing a husband! At least they don’t have to worry about mortal concerns too much.

Which leads nicely to Lizzy leaving the room again to check on Jane. Ms Bingley talks yet again behind her back to make Mr Darcy lose interest in her for reasons that I rather hope will be expanded on later on, because it could make for an interesting arc. He will have none of this and turns her comment on “meanness” back on her, decrying all underhanded tactics people used as “despicable”. Lizzy comes back in racked with concern for Jane and the household decide to send for the doctor again tomorrow. Bingley also takes the step of instructing his staff to care for “the sick lady” above all else, which I must say is a rather impersonal way to refer to the woman he’s meant to be courting.

Thoughts

Good little look at society’s perception and treatment of women here

Darcy has a life outside Bingley, or so I’ve heard

Why are they all so formal amongst friends and family? Always “Mr Darcy” and never ‘Chuck’ or whatever his name is

Jane has barely interacted with Bingley the whole time. What will her mother say?

*I have to admit, with every passing chapter, I grow more impressed with how Austen weaves in her eponymous themes so smoothly.

Each week, Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 7.

‘Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds.’

Last time, we saw Mr Darcy (no first name given) develop some non-detestable feelings towards Lizzy at yet another party, but her distaste for him is made clear when she refuses a dance he offered at Sir Lucas’ (first name given, strangely) behest.

Today, Austen chooses to open the chapter highlighting how simply being a woman at the time of the book locks the girls out of getting a penny of their father’s inheritance when the time comes, with it all going to some distant male relative. This is one of the few times so far that Austen has used the third-person narration to be so overt in discussing her themes. Personally, I’m all for it.

For whatever reason, we completely pivot from the politics and the Darcy-Lizzy-Bingley-Jane plot-line to focus on the younger Bennet sisters - Catherine and Lydia - as they make their way to their mother’s sister for what might be the third time that week. With so little to do with themselves, this mundane experience has been an education for the duo as Mr Phillips (their uncle) often paid visits to soldiers. The sight of these men appears to have flipped a switch in the two of them, as they are described as effusing with words on the soldiers. Whether this is the product of a potent respect for the military or a crush on poor Captain Carter, I’m not too sure, but since everything in their lives is about the pursuit of a husband, I’m inclined to say the latter.

In any case, this constant chatter of captains proves a little tiresome for Mr Bennet, and Mr Bennet’s chatter about his daughters’ chatter proves tiresome for Mrs Bennet. If you’re new to this series, let me reiterate my point on these two being ciphers for the unhappiness of married life for the upper-class couples Austen was familiar with at the time. First, they do not have names, not even Mrs Bennet, which is unusual considering almost every woman in the story has one. Second, whenever the two of them are sharing a room, page or paragraph, they argue. He seems to be amused by it all, but she is constantly at the peak of frustration for her husband’s far from inappropriate behaviour.

She flatters the two of them in the hopes of shutting him up and proceeds to dominate the conversation with talk of how good all the girls’ “silly” chatter would be if it led to them getting a rich colonel as a husband. This woman has one job and she is quite determined to always be doing it. Catherine and Lydia thus try to turn the chat back to fixating on the soldier’s personal lives, remarking on how some of them seem to almost be hiding from the girls in their host’s library.

Funny, that.

Before the conversation can be mangled by further topic management, a letter arrives at the house, taking us on an epistolary trip. Did I say we were pivoting away from the main plot today? I lied : the letter is an invitation for Jane from Bingley’s sister, who has taken quite a shine to her. The family argues on whether Jane will take a horse (nature’s bicycle) or a carriage, but since the horses are busy working on the farm I presume the Bennet’s use for paying their upkeep, she takes a lone horse for the journey. Mrs Bennet prays for rain to strand her child there so she and Mr Bingley can grow closer, closer, closer still…

Wouldn’t you know it? It rained.

Before the Bennet matriarch can cartwheel off the walls the next day, a servant arrives with a letter. This one is from Jane and gives the sad news that she got caught in the rain and will have to stay in bed at the manor for a few days, with the doctor coming to check on her soon.

As Mrs B frets about carriages and Mr B gamely points the finger at her, Lizzy, our protagonist, enters the fray and decides to do an altogether protagonist-y thing - going to Netherfield on foot, with the two youngest sisters accompanying her for the first leg. There’s probably a lesson here about ounces of prevention and pounds of cure, but it’s not like the farm needed those four around anyway. 

The three reach Merryton and two part to meet the wives of their favourite officers, which is weird under my preferred reading of their thoughts on Captain Carter, but does give some weight to them just being obsessed with the military in a more platonic way. Lizzy goes on to reach Netherfield “weary ancles*, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.”

Now, this journey would be a bit much for Jane to make in her condition, but I do wonder how the servant delivered the letter, and why he couldn’t wait for Lizzy if he took a carriage, which is probable considering his clothes were not given such detail.

In the house, Lizzy is met with envious spite from Bingley’s sisters for her troubles, silent judgement from Mr Darcying Darcy himself (does he have a life or house of his own?), and dull ignorance from a Mr Hurst, who’s still having breakfast. After a little effort, she convinces the household to let her check on Jane, who is in a “feverish” state, afflicted with “a violent cold” according to the doctor. What a lot of melodrama for a sniff! Of course, I’m forgetting that medicine at the time is not what it is today, but even Mrs Bennet didn’t assume the worst when she heard!

Many hours later, Lizzy and Jane engage in a little game of etiquette. The aim is to convince the other person that you do want what you most sincerely do not (going back home, in Lizzy’s case), while they make a show of supporting her choice while nudging you to what you really want. Jane wins, and Lizzy stays the night at the manor, with a servant sent back home to get her things, which makes me question why they don’t just shove Jane in a carriage and send her back home if they’re so close to each other. She can’t exactly charm Mr Bingley while coughing up phlegm, and she isn’t in a fragile state - it’s a cold!

Thoughts

I remember this chapter quite well from the last time I tried P&P

So much drama over a cold! She could get home in an hour by foot!

Mr Darcy is in the book even when he isn’t significant to the plot. He is truly omnipresent.

Good contrast between him and Hurst, whoever that is.

Will the girls’ obsession with soldiers will go anywhere?

* : I do not know whether ‘ancles’ is an archaic spelling of the word, or simply a spelling error in my edition, but just wanted to point out that it’s completely intentional for the eagle-eyed amongst you.

Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb every week until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 6.

“There is nothing like dancing after all. - I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies.”

Last week, we unpacked what I hope to be the final aftermath chapter of the party. Today, the chapter opens with Bingley’s sisters returning the Bennets’ visit and beginning to form some thoughts on them.

The manners of a Ms Bennet (no idea which one) prove pleasant enough, but the sisters find Mrs Bennet intolerable and her youngest children unworthy of their attention. Jane and Elizabeth are the exceptions to this, and react to it differently. For Jane, the positive attention due to her blossoming love with Mr Bingley is welcome, but for Elizabeth, she feels his sisters are just being condescending to everyone, which is interesting considering they’re all in the upper class. Shows you can never have it all, I suppose.

Though Jane and Mr Bingley’s love has grown only in little glances and dances at parties in the last few weeks, Charlotte urges her to make her love for him obvious (good move) otherwise she “may lose the opportunity of fixing him” (hmm…) as men need a woman’s help to properly fall in love, though Eliza does counter this with the assertion that they “must be a simpleton indeed” if they can’t discover any of their own feelings without the help of a good woman.

Eliza goes on to criticise Charlotte’s theories on love for being centred purely on the pursuit of marriage, especially the pursuit of marriage to a rich man. It’s here that I question who exactly is Austen’s mouthpiece in the story. Lizzy? Jane? Certainly not Charlotte in any case. I must say I found admirable too see her deconstruct the core themes of the book - love, the pursuit of marriage and whether romance has any role in it for the upper classes. Not to mention pride and prejudice, of course.

It’s clear that these women have little else to be doing in their positions in society, as there is an in-depth analysis over the quality and quantity of time their sister Jane has spent with Bingley, and what she may have learnt from it. Including : his appetite, their mutual opinions on Vingt-un over Commerce (which I’m inferring is a kind of drink, possibly wine?) and whether she would be happier married to him on that day or after “a twelvemonth” of courting. It’s apparently “a matter of chance” and completely unrelated to the compatibility of their respective personalities and willingness to push and pull over mutual issues.

Spending all her time pouring over her sister’s love life, Lizzy fails to notice Mr Darcy’s blossoming tolerance of her; from “scarcely allowed” to be pretty, to being caught by the “easy playfulness” of her manners, showing a progression from observing the superficial to her personal qualities. As far as Lizzy is unaware (and I feel now is the perfect moment to remind you that Lizzy, or ‘Eliza’, is Elizabeth Bennet - second-oldest at around twenty years of the Bennet sisters - just in case you had lost track.), Darcy is in every way the man who rudely refused to dance with her, which is honestly still quite an accurate assessment of him. But familiarity with Lizzy is breeding intrigue for him, rather than contempt, in the back of his mind, (probably) stricken with severe social anxiety as it is. 

Will Austen follow up on this soon? Well, there’s another 60-something chapters to fill, so I wouldn’t hold my breath over her rushing what appears to be the central plot thread if I were you.

We move to a fleeting anecdote of a subsequent party, utterly wrecking my party:aftermath chapter ratio, where Darcy follows up on his matured interest in Lizzy by... standing around and listening in to her conversations with others. To the surprise of everyone (read : NO-ONE), being exposed to so much of his “satirical eye” simply makes Lizzy feel uncomfortable and like she has to be “impertinent” with him or fear him. Take notes ladies, gentlemen and all other dignified people, this man has such a good way with the ladies.

To defend her poor friend from Mr Darcy’s presumed barbs, one of the Ms Lucases (I’m assuming the 27-year-old, but I could be wrong) nudges her to displays her modest singing talent for the amusement of the party as she plays some undetermined instrument. Probably a flute. She is then swiftly overshadowed by her emphatically mediocre sister Mary, who is more than happy to “purchase” their praise. Transactional lexis here makes me draw conclusions of the nature of these balls. Very ‘something for something’ it seems.

And then everyone danced.

Except for Mr Darcy, I think. When asked by Sir William to join them as a compliment to the place (their manners have reached the point of flattering inanimate objects through the medium of mirthful movement). In any case, he does not desire to do this for any building if he can help it, so at least he’s non-discriminatory in his social withdrawal.

Unperturbed by this, William tries to turn the conversation toward the subject of his total insecurity with his social status via the medium of home ownership, to no avail. In order to keep things moving, Austen plonks Lizzy next to Darcy at the sidelines of the party and the good Sir tries to get what he presumes to be kindred spirits together. Lizzy is not interested, but Darcy demonstrates some character development by offering her a dance “with grave propriety” like the eligible bachelor he is. She refuses. For a couple of paragraphs.

When she walks back out of the chapter, Darcy confesses his blossoming interest in the girl who quite clearly dislikes him to Bingley’s unmarried sister. Not sure if she’s the best person to be confiding in, but maybe my opinion of her is just tainted by my alignment with good old Lizzy.

Nonetheless, the chapter ends (as does my backlog of chapters I’ve actually read through - ulp) with her barraging our favourite introvert with questions. You'd think she’d be used to him and his ways by now.

Thoughts

Need to get ahead on these, not finish them at midnight

Darcy goes from aloof to smitten

Still sardonic

I want to see a bit of the world outside of the ballroom, but I think I’m reading the wrong book for it

So much happened in this chapter, barely kept up

Catherine reads through an annotated chapter of Pride & Prejudice and shares her thoughts with the interweb every week until it’s done. Or until she gets sick of Jane Austen. Whichever comes first. This week : Chapter 5.

“...I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”

We start the chapter checking back in with the Lucases, where we learn that Sir William has a powerful desire to climb the social ladder : after he was knighted while mayor of Merryton, he fled his humble business and home in favour of Lucas Lodge, a short walk away from Bennet residence. Despite these grandiose aspirations, Austen is quick to assure us that he remains “inoffensive, friendly and obliging”. I feel it’s prudent here to point out that Lucas is the only man in this book so far to have a first name, and seems to be one of the nicest men in the book so far.

Next, we learn about the rest of the family. His wife, Lady Lucas is “very good” but not clever enough to be of any use to Mrs Bennet. Together, they have spawned many children, chief among them is an as-yet unnamed 27-year-old, who’s good friends with our 20-year-old protagonist, Lizzy. Naturally, these firm friends and their families meet up to talk about the ball. For another chapter.

There are 68 Chapters in this book. So far, it’s been 2 chapters building up to a party and then two chapters unpacking the party. At this rate, about 12 more chapters are going to have actual plot development and the rest will have people talking about it.

Anyway.

In Mrs Bennet’s opinion, Bingley gravitated towards Charlotte and one of the Ms Lucases (The 27 year old?), but seemed to like Jane the best, “because he danced with her twice”, and apparently told someone called Mr Robinson (A friend? The person who owned the venue?) that he found the oldest Bennet girl the prettiest. This is coming from her mother, so I’m choosing to take it with a dashing of sodium chloride, as I don’t believe I’ve come across Mr Robinson prior to this. (Feel free to chime in with any corrections if I’m mistaken).

She goes on to berate poor Mr Darcy behind his back. That poor (possibly) introverted gentleman! “He seemed very angry at being spoken to” and “he never speaks much unless amongst his intimate acquaintance” are said with such scathing disdain by the Bennet matriarch and her favourite (for now) child, but do nothing but fan the flames of my theory. Yet again, they accuse Darcy of being “ate up with Pride” to the point where they speculate if he heard a rumour that one of the guests dared to use an inferior, less decadent mode of transport to arrive. These people have excellent priorities and don’t come across like Prom Queens trapped in an endless cycle of parties and their aftermath. No, not at all.

Ms Lucas steps in to defend Mr Darcy. No, she doesn’t refute the accusations of him being proud, instead deciding that he has every right to be proud, being rich and all “with family fortune, every thing in his favour”. From here they all weigh in on their thoughts on pride, apparently oblivious to how proud they are themselves. Only bit of interest here is that we discover the Lucas family has a young man in their ranks, who wishes to “drink a bottle of wine every night” if he ever gets as rich as Mr Darcy and then argues with Mrs Bennet about it for the rest of their visit. Seeing as he’s a “boy”, I’m imagining that he’s maybe 10 years old and aspiring to conform to the ‘Lord of the Manor’ mold his slice of society expects of him. Probably never drank a drop in his life, outside of communion wine, maybe.

Thoughts

Austen is really laying the theme of “pride” on thick in this chapter

Poor Mr Darcy

I should try to write these earlier, so I’m not finishing them for my audience of about...5 at 11 at night