Pride and Prejudice, chapter two
Chapter two is very brief, consisting of a single scene in which almost all the Bennet family appears. Again, Austen is a master of economy – the plot advances as Mr. Bennet toys with his wife’s anxiety a bit more before admitting that he has visited Mr. Bingley. We learn that a ball is coming. And we learn a little bit about each member of the Bennet family, with one notable exception.
We learn that Mr. Bennet cannot be relied on to be inactive – his lack of attention to his daughters’ welfare (as Mrs. Bennet sees it) is not some kind of hard line philosophical stance. Remember that Austen called him a “mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humor, reserve and caprice,” and “caprice” is the easiest part to overlook, but I think it’s the most important.
He is changeable; he is unpredictable. He thought it would be hilarious if he went to see Bingley after insisting to his wife that he wouldn’t go, but this doesn’t mean that he is secretly just as concerned about his daughters getting married, or that he is some sort of softy with a gruff exterior. In another similar circumstance he might not have done anything at all; a lot would depend on how much trouble it was. His motive seems satisfied here: he gets to mock each family member in quick succession, particularly his wife. He gets to be thanked profusely. He gets to leave the room.
Mrs. Bennet is just as changeable as her husband, though more predictable. See how quickly her mood shifts when her husband makes his revelation; she had been considering everything from Mrs. Long’s possession of nieces to Kitty’s coughing as a personal affront. Notice how she attempts evasion – blaming her bad temper on her nerves, on Kitty’s coughing, on anything but her dissatisfaction with her husband – but is unable to keep up any pretense.
Notice how expertly Mr. Bennet plays with her; he knows the exact moment to reveal his actions and no doubt knows what her reaction will be. She is a selfish, stupid woman, and likely to lash out in inept cruelty when angry. He, reserved and intelligent, is almost coldly calculating whether he wishes to harm or give pleasure. They magnify each other’s worst attributes, and have probably done so for most of their marriage.
And who are their daughters? We meet four of them, again briefly – the parents are still taking center stage. Interestingly, we get clearer pictures of the girls with less narrative importance, and one of the five we do not meet at all.
Elizabeth, appropriately, is introduced first; as her father’s acknowledged favorite she is the first he speaks to. Her first line in the novel seems almost deliberately underwhelming:
But you forget, mama,'' said Elizabeth, ``that we shall meet him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him.''
It is notable though, that the first thing she says is sensible. Not witty or funny or quick; there is nothing yet which explains her father’s affinity for her, but she is intelligent. She remembers useful information. She is interested in calming her mother. Elizabeth does not take joy in her mother’s stupidity; we will see later that her father’s pleasure in it is painful to her.
Kitty is the next daughter to appear. We don’t learn much about her except that she is irritating Mrs. Bennet with her cough, and is rather defensive about it. By the end of the novel we should realize that there is nothing much more to learn about Kitty; her lack of defining character is her character. She is a follower, she is easily influenced, and she does not take well to teasing. Her place in this scene immediately solidifies her place in Bennet family dynamics.
Then comes Mary. Poor Mary:
"What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?'' cried he. "Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Mary? for you are a young lady of deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make extracts."
Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.
"While Mary is adjusting her ideas," he continued, "let us return to Mr. Bingley."
Nothing sums up Mary Bennet more than this line: “Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how.” Mary is not, in fact, a lady of deep reflection but only a pedantic, pretentious teenager who very much wants to appear intelligent but isn’t usually up to it. I suspect that poor Mary comes second only to Mrs. Bennet as a target for her father’s mockery.
Last is Lydia, and Lydia too is encapsulated with due economy:
“Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball."
"Oh!" said Lydia stoutly, "I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I'm the tallest."
What does this tell us? We can tell that though Elizabeth is her father’s favorite, Lydia is Mrs. Bennet’s. We also learn that she is very young, that she is full grown, and that she is not shy. All three of these will be important.
Interestingly, the only Bennet daughter who does not appear is Jane, who will end up being the most closely connected to the Bingley plot going forward. I’m not quite sure what to make of her absence; you could argue that Jane’s beauty being established in chapter one, there is no more need to define her character. I would not agree – Jane’s looks are less important both thematically and with regard to the plot than her angelic disposition.
If Jane’s absence has any import, I would say it is because this is primarily a scene depicting how the Bennet family works together – how they are defined by their interactions with each other. Jane, out of all the sisters, is the least connected to this dynamic going forward. Elizabeth is the only one she is really close to; she does not appear to have a strong connection to either parent or to her other sisters. Her serene and forgiving character does not give her father anything to mock, or any reason to consider her a near-conspirator, as he does Elizabeth.
Jane neither shares information in a shrewd attempt to mollify, as Elizabeth does, nor does she irritate anyone like Kitty. She does not show off and leave herself open for ridicule like Mary, or boast like Lydia. She is usually only there: sweet, pretty, sensible enough, and kind. She has no purpose in a messy scene like this.