In Which Mr. Darcy Unknowingly Invents the Humblebrag

Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife, Chapter 10. So what happened?

When last we left Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in chapter eight, they had finally done the deed. We return to them the morning after; Elizabeth is exhausted and so stunned by the event that she can barely admire the elaborate decor surrounding her. Nevertheless, she is eager to learn more about what just happened, and begins her day with a lengthy examination of her husband’s naked body.

More sex ensues, but not before Darcy embarrasses his wife by calling for the servants to start the fire. He’s still not going to too much effort, and the sex is still more painful than enjoyable for Elizabeth:

It was discovered then, that a man of sufficiently warm blood could, even under the disadvantaged impairment of four previous accommodations, re-achieve a penis in erectus of considerable magnitude. In light of foregoing acceptance and resultant pleasure, the owner of this temporary priapism sought to explore just how abundantly his wife’s newly liberated pudendum feminus could receive it. Although she was willing (even eager), her nether-regions cried out. She kept her wailing womanhood silent until, in the final throes of release, he thrust even more fiercely, quite insensible that her ultimate confines had been reached. His moan at this apex was quite overwhelmed by hers.

Immediately he drew her head to his chest, repeating, “This will not do. This will not do.”

Wretched was she. Not only for her suffering body, but that she had been certain the vexatious pain problem had been rectified by her deflowerment. It had not. And she was not strong enough to bear it, thereby exposing her body’s inadequacy to him.

Elizabeth convinces herself that the pain resulting from being regularly penetrated by Darcy with zero attempt at lubrication is her fault because her vagina is too small. She despairs of her fate as a sure-to-be cast aside wife. Darcy assures her that on the contrary, her vagina is just perfect, it’s his penis that’s far too large and he feels just terrible about it, but with practice they can make the sex thing work. Elizabeth, having nothing to compare The Darcy Dick to, happily accepts this explanation, and the chapter ends as they get down to the practicing.

Inaccuracies: what was obviously wrong here?

I get more annoyed at the idea of going south from Hertfordshire to London, and then from London to Derbyshire, each time it’s brought up, and it’s especially annoying in this chapter, because apparently, Darcy meant to do this:

”I planned poorly, Lizzy. We must arise if we are to reach Pemberley before dark.”

Clearly, an admission of a misjudgement came with some cost to his dignity. Hence, she nodded a little hesitantly, hoping he understood her affirmation was of understanding the need for haste, not that she agreed he had erred.

The stop at London had been an ideal compromise of time. It had been his plan to arrive at Pemberley the day after their wedding by mid-afternoon. Then, she would see it at its best. But his finely detailed agenda did not incorporate languorous loungings and supine delights. All his scheming went for naught. They would have to away soon. It was a hurry neither wanted.

Okay, I’ll stop complaining about this soon. But look at this map:

So, maybe Darcy just didn’t want to spend his wedding night in a borrowed room, and preferred to take Elizabeth to his own place in comparatively nearby London before heading up to Derbyshire. It’s roundabout, but I can see the logic. But in no way is this an “ideal compromise of time.” And there’s no way they’d get there by mid-afternoon the day after the wedding, if they only leave from London the morning after the wedding. No matter how early they get up that morning.

The current distance between London and Derbyshire is about 150 miles. This is with modern roads - and though the roads in the 1810s were better than they had been in the 1710s, they weren’t paved multi-lane highways. So, we can expect that the distance back then would be at least that, and we don't know exactly where Pemberley is in Derbyshire: south, north, wherever. Plus, based on P&P’s timeline, this was the middle of winter: roads up north might be covered in snow, and there weren’t huge plows back then. The days were shorter and the weather was worse. Travel took more time in the winter.

P&P even gives us a handy metric for travel times according to Darcy's ideas of efficient travel. Here are Darcy and Elizabeth, talking about the distance between her Hertfordshire and Rosings, as it pertains to Charlotte's marriage choices:

“It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.”

“An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."

“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”

If fifty miles is the journey of half a day, that would make the trip from London to Derbyshire one that lasted about a day and a half. And when you factor in time to eat or sleep or rest/water the horses, and the fact that the season would slow them down, you’re looking at a journey of at least two days. At least. Remember, the trip from London/Hertfordshire to Derbyshire for Elizabeth and the Gardiners was one of several weeks. They were taking a leisurely tour, but explicitly not as leisurely as they would have liked: Mr. Gardiner could only spare a few weeks before he needed to be back at work, and Derbyshire was the upper limit of where they could go.

Unless Darcy’s carriage has a rocket attached, they’re not getting to Pemberley even by that night.

Purple Prose: what’s the worst written line in the chapter?

The paragraph I quoted in the summary is pretty bad, but nothing makes me cringe quite like this deeply weird attempt at comedy:

...As for my saying ‘it will not do,’ I only meant it would not do for me to continue to hurt you. That is my failing, not yours. I must rein myself in, for you are not too small, I am…” He flailed about for a delicate way to put it. “...rather large.”

”Oh.”

This was an interesting turn of events. The entire conundrum was the fault of his body, not hers.

She bid, “Do you mean too large?”

”I mean to say, you are small, but not too small.”

”You mean to say, you are not large, but too large?”

”I am not all that large…” he made a frustrated little half-snort, obviously unhappy at the direction the conversation was taking, but that did not deter her curiosity.

”How large are you?”

”As you see.”

”Well, you must understand, sir, my frame of reference is somewhat limited. Would you not grant that I have no true way to compare it?”

He almost smiled and then reclaimed it, not wanting to further encourage discussion of the meritoriousness of his member. But he was tardy by half, leaving Elizabeth feeling saucy enough to inflict a tease.

”Are you large enough to incite gossip? Are you large enough to be put on display in Piccadilly?”

They keep going like that for a while. Darcy is clearly faking his embarrassment, since he’s the one who brought his cock up (so to speak) in the first place.

Asshole Award: who acts most like a jerk, or the least like themselves?

Pod-Elizabeth is really weird in this chapter, and doesn’t act much like the level-headed and fairly undramatic woman she is, but I think even real Elizabeth would be a bit thrown for a loop after first-time-sex; her weirdness is forgivable and understandable. Darcy is genuinely an asshole; he’s done this a thousand times, and is apparently a rockstar at it, and knows Elizabeth is sheltered and inexperienced. He is doing absolutely nothing to make an apparently painful and probably at least a little frightening experience better for her, and he’s doing a whole lot to make it worse. I get the sense that her freakout over being “stunted” is supposed to make us laugh at how over-dramatic she is, but Darcy’s being pretty insensitive, commenting on her body all vaguely. How is she supposed to know having a tight vagina is a complement? She didn’t grow up in a porn culture. Elizabeth is a pill in this chapter, but Darcy is an asshole.

Hey Look, a Lower Class Person: how are class differences portrayed in this chapter?

Darcy’s silent army of servants is pretty creepy and weird. And this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense:

”This room is far too cold.”

He drew her close, bundling her in the covers. And then, before she could protest, he reached for and yanked an elaborate, tasselled pull-cord.

Before its tassel quit dancing about, two bellows-laden maids appeared to restore the fire. Their arrival precipitated Elizabeth’s burrowing deep within the bedclothes. Her sensibilities demanded it. For to have servants wholly unknown to her witness her abed, completely stark-naked and with a man, was unconditionally mortifying. Even if the gentleman in her bed was her husband.

First of all, if the bell summoned the maids that quickly, were they just hanging out in the next room? The bell pull was invented to summon servants who were in another part of the house; if the servants were in earshot, you just used a hand bell. This was to keep servants out of the way and invisible, as was the rising fashion of the late 18th and early 19th century, rather than having them always lurking around waiting to do things for you. If the maids were just a few steps away, waiting for the summons to mend the fire (and if they brought the bellows with them, that’s all they can have been waiting for - there are evidently different servants who will help with breakfast and dressing), then a bell-pull is unnecessary. If a bell-pull was necessary, then they’d have to wait a little while for the maids to show up.

Second of all, another facet of the invisible servant phenomenon was that servants would creep in, very early in the morning, to mend a fire before their employers asked for it. They would never wait to be called. Sure, they might see naked Darcy, but he clearly doesn’t care, and they’d have been trained to ignore that.

Third of all, it didn’t take two people to mend a fire. Pod-Darcy, far from keeping his servants invisible, apparently likes to show them off.

Hey Look, a Plot: does anything in this chapter move the story forward?

As far as this dumb book has a plot, it’s Elizabeth and Darcy Do It All Over Pemberley, so a chapter all about how big Darcy’s dick is isn’t not relevant.