From Pride and Prejudice to He's Just Not That Into You

I recently finished reading Pride and Prejudice for the second time and was struck by how much funnier it is then I remember. I think I first read it in grade eleven for an independent study, so perhaps it was because I wasn’t reading it for pleasure that I missed all the clever humour in Austen’s words.

At the time, I wrote an essay on the theme of appearances vs. reality, and I recall that one of my examples was how Darcy gave the impression that he had no interest in Elizabeth, meanwhile, he was in love with her and wanted to marry her. Another example I gave was how Wickham tried to pass himself off as the wronged party in his falling out with Darcy, when he was actually the one who had done the wrong. Clearly, this wasn’t a sophisticated study, but it was sufficient to get me an A—my English teacher either had really low expectations, or the rest of my class wasn’t too smart.

There was one passage of the book which struck me—in vol. II, ch. 8, Elizabeth is visiting with Charlotte and meets Darcy again at his aunt’s estate. They have just had dinner and Elizabeth asks Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, why he, Darcy, finds it difficult to speak to strangers. Darcy himself replies that he’s not like others who have the talent of “conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

Darcy’s attitude towards strangers reminded me of another book that I had read a while back, Nuala O’Faolain’s My Dream of You, where the heroine is being chastised by her best friend for being stand-offish:

…except when I was actually working, I was shy. I stood against the wall, at breaks, with a mineral water.

You frighten people, Jimmy said. You look as if you’re saying, Let them come to me because I’m damned if I’m going to them.

It’s not that, I said. It’s half that I don’t know how to chat and half that I don’t feel confident anyone wants me to.

…[Jimmy said,] You need a therapist. Everyone here knows you’re terrific except you. Anyone would be glad to talk to you.

I flagged this passage of the book when I read it because I completely identify with the feeling of being shy to approach people I don’t know too well, or at all, for fear that I would have nothing of interest to say. I respond far better when the other party initiates and I feel that they want to engage me in conversation.

It’s ironic how shy introverts are often perceived to be snobby or arrogant when they’re actually not. Maybe Darcy was an introvert at a time when people didn’t know what introverts were—he was just misunderstood!

Jonathan Rauch's (slightly tongue-in-cheek) article, Caring for your Introvert examines how one should engage with this personality type. As an introvert, I, myself, will go through periods of what seems like endless socializing and interaction, but then I get wary of people and feel the need to switch to my anti-social reserve—which sounds far more severe than it actually is, honest!

To get back to Darcy and Elizabeth though, they eventually find their way to each other’s true selves and live happily ever after. The many love lessons in Pride and Prejudice and Austen’s other novels may be reviewed in Lauren Henderson’s funnily helpful Jane Austen’s Guide to Dating—sort of like a Regency-period-themed He’s Just Not That Into You.

I did the quiz at the end of the book to find out which Austen character I am most like and, oddly enough, it’s Elizabeth, who is described as “outgoing, funny, and direct. You want a serious relationship, but it’s essential for you to find someone you can have fun with or teach to have fun.” I’m verging on Mary of Mansfield Park though, who is described as “bitchy, clever, cynical…You need someone stable, not flashy, to balance you, someone who will be capable of dressing you down when you need it, but who will love your dry wit and your confidence.” Ha!