People Alter Themselves So Much

Pride and Prejudice, chapter 9

Very little happens in this chapter. Jane and Elizabeth are still stuck at Netherfield, and it’s unclear whether Elizabeth or Caroline Bingley are the most ready for the visit to end. Jane is on the mend, but not yet well enough to leave, and then the only thing that could possibly make everyone more uncomfortable happens: Mrs. Bennet and her younger daughters come to visit.

Elizabeth and Darcy have an interesting dynamic here, in Mrs. Bennet’s presence. Darcy himself barely speaks; when he does, it’s always in response to something Elizabeth has said. You can hardly blame him; Mrs. Bennet has marked him for an enemy even more than Elizabeth has, and I get the sense already that she would make him uncomfortable in any case.

Elizabeth, though, appears to distract him from his natural state - or rather, she disrupts his natural response to the company of people like Mrs. Bennet. If Elizabeth were not there, he would not say anything at all. Instead, he speaks twice, and his two lines are interesting. Take a look at the first:

“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”

“I did not know before,” continued Bingley immediately, “that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”

“Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.”

“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.”

“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.”

“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town.”

Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.

Elizabeth speaks, mostly to Bingley (the only person in the room trying as hard as she is). Darcy, his interest piqued only by her, attempts to enter the conversation, Elizabeth responds to him, and then Elizabeth loses control of the conversation. That dynamic is repeated almost immediately:

Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.”

“Did Charlotte dine with you?”

“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain—but then she is our particular friend.”

“She seems a very pleasant young woman.”

“Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.”

“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”

“I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,” said Darcy.

“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”

Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy.

Again: Elizabeth has control of the conversation, Darcy attempts (maybe a little clumsily) to talk with her and only her, Elizabeth quickly and cleverly responds, and the conversation falls apart again. For all that Elizabeth thinks (at this point) that she and Darcy don’t get along, they are able to talk to each other, even banter. None of their words to each other are designed to shut the other down or end their discourse: the language is encouraging of reply. Darcy, especially, manages to disagree with Elizabeth without ever dismissing her. His lines show an interest in her thoughts. Her interest seems to be mainly in besting him, though she defends him more than once in this scene.

Would they say more to each other if Mrs. Bennet were not there? Possibly. This chapter illustrates what will be explicitly stated by the characters later in the novel: Elizabeth’s vulgar relatives are responsible for the poor state of her relationship with Darcy. Not only because they cause Darcy to resist his feelings, but because they make him so uncomfortable that he can rarely be himself around her.