Let's talk about Mansfield Park

I just finished it. First, I must say I’m ever so happy that I saw the movie first. As an independent story loosely based on MP and Austen’s letters, it is enjoyable enough. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to enjoy it properly again. Having a character called Fanny Price who runs the halls screeching and having a playful fight with Edmund just creates too much cognitive dissonance. And the slavery angle is shoehorned in and does a disservice to the character of Sir Thomas, who is really an OK guy who makes some mistakes, not some kind of monster.

I really enjoyed the book, somewhat to my surprise. I’d always read that Fanny has a stick up her ass, and is one of the least favored Austen heroines. But despite her extreme passivity and (especially to modern eyes) ridiculous propriety, I did like her anyway.

However, I also really liked Mary, and even Henry had his moments. And I’m not sure if I’m meant to, or it’s because I’m a product of a MUCH more liberal culture, so that their damning indelicacy doesn’t make an impression on me.

Of course, the fact that Mary is kind of rooting for Tom to die, and admits this in a letter (not in a conversation when it might have slipped out), is a true point against her. But it’s almost overshadowed by the silliness of Edmund and Fanny’s objections: she makes jokes, and even pokes fun at her obnoxious jerk of an uncle - fetch the fainting couch!

And, as Austen herself points out in the end, it does seem that Henry and Fanny could have been tolerably happy as a married couple, and each would have supported the weaknesses in the other’s character. Fanny would teach Henry to be more upright and serious, while he might get her to lighten up, know her own worth, and have some fun. In fact, they probably would have been happier than Edmund and Mary - he being more in love with the idea of Mary than the reality, and she being forever disappointed in marriage to a less-than-wealthy clergyman.

Actually, I was surprised that Mary was shown to be so opposed to Edmund’s profession, seemingly for its own sake, not just because it wasn’t smart and lucrative. She seems to have a real disdain for the clergy which seemed like something that would be more absolutely forbidden from discussion than making a little fun of one’s relations!

Let’s not.

Not my favourite book - I didn’t like Fanny - but there are few movie-book combinations more interesting to debate.

The movie is so different from the book that the question is, did Patricia Rozema (the writer and director) just totally miss the point, or was she selling her own story and just using a known product as a jumping-off point?

Fanny is kind of a drip to me, but it’s Edmund who drives me batty as a supposed hero. He’s constantly judging others who don’t measure up to his hifalutin’ standards – yet never giving himself the same gimlet eye for being a gossiping fishwife. How many times did he lurk around saying to Fanny, “So what did you think of ____? Did you not think she was ungrateful? Hmmm??” Always trying to elicit her negative opinions of others in hopes that she’ll share his disapproval. He’s never happy unless he’s getting his digs into someone. And of course he’s a big ol’ hypocrite, joining the play production allegedly to save it through his noble presence but really just to stand opposite Mary.

He and Fanny will make the dourest, most insufferably holier-than-thou lead couple in Austendom. Compare them to a similarly serious-minded pair like Edward Ferrars and Elinor Dashwood. At least the Ferrarses have humility and senses of humor; the Edmund Bertrams will drain the life out of any room the minute they enter and find everyone lacking, as usual. I imagine them becoming great frenemies with the Eltons, each mocking the other behind their back.

Austen usually looked down on such judgementalism. In another Austen book he’d have been the priggish snob for whom the heroine feels a briief fancy but then realizes he’s too relentlessly smug. I was totally rooting for Henry to end up with Fanny and have them learn from each other, but alas, that wouldn’t have been Moral enough.

BTW, for a pretty good adaptation, look for the 1983 production with Sylvestra Le Touzel. Though she makes some bizarre acting choices, the cast as a whole is very good and if you can deal with the more stage-like production, it’s quite an accurate version fo the book – unlike the film or the recent Billie Piper (!) version.

There are three film/TV versions of this story I’m aware of, one of which–the most recent–I haven’t seen yet. The second, which is the one I think you’re referring to in the OP, I call The Unspeakable Mansfield. The earliest version with Sylvestra Le Touzel and Nicholas Farrell, while a bit slow going, at least has the merits of good cast and remains faithful to Austen’s story and her idea of Fanny Price; the girl may be an awful wet blanket, but I think it better that an adaptation of the story stick to that characterization rather than try to make her a modern grrrrrl for modern audiences, which the more recent versions want to do. Fanny’s actions, particularly with regard to Henry Crawford, make no sense without that characterization. It’s the central failing of the Unspeakable Mansfield (although that slave trade subplot bugs me too, among other things).

I do think that Austen because more pious and judgmental later on in her life; you can see it in her choice of heroines. I don’t dislike Fanny as I do Emma Woodhouse–I often feel sympathy for her, living with the Bertrams and Aunt Norris as she does, but I wouldn’t want to spend much time with her myself. If I had a choice of spending a week at a country house with her versus one with Mary Crawford, I’d pick Mary any time.

I caught a little of the Billie Piper one, and yeah, she’s up there with Michael Madsen and Michelle Rodriguez on the list of people who should not be in period pieces. Love her in Doctor Who, but she looks ridiculously modern somehow.

BTW, how is Persuasion? I’ve seen the movie with Ciaran Hinds, and it was OK, but again the heroine seems like kind of a drip.

I really like Persuasion, the heroine (Anne) is a better-drawn character than poor Fanny. Anne (IMHO) is too retiring and passive to be as interesting as some Austen’s other women, but she’s also very kind to those around her, and trapped in a horrible family.

I love Mansfield Park. I don’t love Fanny Price, but almost everything else about it is wonderful funny Austen, and she has Mrs. Norris to make terrible fun of. I’m a big Mary Crawford fan too, I think she’s the most delightful female in all of Jane Austen’s work.

I’m not exactly sure where I got this from, possibly the DVD commentary of “Becoming Jane” but I think I heard somewhere that Mary was based on Jane Austen’s scandalous and exciting cousin Elizabeth, you know the one that married the French aristocrat, escaped the guillotine and married her brother Henry? (Jane’s brother Henry)

For the longest time I wondered, “What the hell is wrong with Fanny Price?”, I mean why does she get tired out so easily, always get “the headache”, is such a overall weakling and it finally came to me that the poor thing was suffering the fallout of childhood malnutrition.

I think the most interesting outcome would’ve been for Fanny to marry Henry, Edmund to marry Mary and for Fanny and Edmund to realize their mistake too late and have a lifetime sizzling affair.

Fanny… and Edmund… sizzling? They’d probably have dull, dutiful relations solely within the confines of a marriage, once a week and only in order to procreate. Edmund would think it scandalous and improper to do anything but missionary; besides, Fanny’d probably get vertigo on top anyway. I don’t remember, at the end of the book, does Austen mention whether they have children? I can see Fanny managing to have one sickly child, after which Edmund would probably decide she’s too fragile to risk further ‘confinements’ and thus stops having sex altogether.

The heroine in Persuasion is a bit of a sop, Unauthorized Cinnamon, but not nearly as bad as Fanny. Her big mistake was caring too much about what her friend/relatives thought early in her life, and then gets the life sucked out of her by her shallow father/sisters. Unlike Fanny, she redeems herself. I definitely prefer it to Mansfield Park, though I think it lacks the peppery characterization that makes Henry and Mary such enjoyable characters in Mansfield. (Aside from the Musgraves.)

It’s not on a par with Emma or Pride and Prejudice, of course – or Sense and Sensibility, which for me is #3 on the Austen list – but I think Persuasion is more enjoyable than Mansfield Park thanks to not having a pair of wet smacks as a lead couple.

Speaking of the adaptations: Fanny and Anne are both difficult characters to portray, since they’re such passive things (Fanny moreso than Anne). I actually think Amanda Root in the wonderful Ciarán Hinds version did a very good job investing her Anne with a simmering frustration and hidden depth.

What I like about Anne Eliot is that she is competent; everyone but her father and elder sister turn to her. My favorite moment in Persuasion is just after Louisa falls off the Cobb and everyone, including those brave sailors who’ve seen battle, being guided by her directions and asking her what to do next. I can’t see Fanny being useful in a crisis like that.

Thanks for the info on Persuasion. It’s the one remaining Austen book I haven’t read, and I’m already feeling prospective sadness for the end of new Austen. So I’m glad it is relatively good. I.e., if I liked even Mansfield Park, I will probably like it.

And luckily Austen is highly re-readable. Even when I know the plot well, it’s a joy to read her sly wit. I guess that’s what is so jarring about Fanny - it’s hard to imagine someone as mischievous as Austen holding up such a wet blanket as a paragon.

I even have a $25 B&N gift certificate from Xmas. I think I’ll get Persuasion and The Stupidest Angel.

The worst thing about Fanny Price, really, is that her flaws - her extreme passivity and fearfulness - seem to be held up as virtues by the book. Generally speaking, Austen’s “flawed” heroines have to realise their mistakes and make some sort of change before she allows them redemption - Fanny seems to belong to the class of heroines (like Elinor Dashwood) where the denoument of the book is that everybody realises they were right all along.

Sometimes I wonder if Mansfield Park is actually the world’s most subtle satire, and generations of readers of English literature have just had a gigantic whoosh perpetrated on us.

The one thing you can say about Fanny is that she sticks to her guns. When absolutely everybody, even her beloved Edmund, is browbeating here into accepting Henry, she may dissolve into tears at the drop of a hat but she never actually gives up. That is pretty admirable, considering.

For a case study in what could have happened if Fanny had got married to Henry, Anne Bronte’s “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” fits the bill pretty well, if anyone’s read it.

There’s an interesting bit of characterization of Fanny on Austen’s part here–that in her refusal, Fanny appears so passive and self-deprecating that no one takes her at her word about not wanting to marry Henry; they think she refuses him out of modesty or a belief that she isn’t worthy, or some other motive of self-denial.

One of my favorite mid-Victorian novels, actually–surprisingly stark for its portrayal of an alcoholic for the period. I never looked at Helen’s religious outlook and how it affects her relationship with her husband in light of Fanny Price wet-blanketism, however; I’ll have to next time I read it.

I don’t usually recommend this behaviour, but stand in the bookstore and read a bit of the The Stupidest Angel before you buy it. I love-love-love some of Moore’s other works, but that one really fell flat for me.

This does contrast nicely with Elizabeth’s refusal of Mr. Collins in P&P. He too assumes she is refusing for reasons of delicacy, but of course passive and self-deprecating are the last adjectives one would apply to her, and she convinces him pretty quickly. And of course her response to Darcy is in all ways unequivocal! (Though at least in that case, the suitor pays the lady the respect of taking her at her word.)

As for The Stupidest Angel, I have read it and want to own it so I can re-read it each Christmas. Gotta love any book that describes a character as “looking like the runner-up in a Miss Nude Random Violence pageant.” But I appreciate the heads-up. The Moore book that doesn’t work for me is Lamb, so I understand the phenomenon.

I love the book Mansfield Park, but as others have noted, Fanny Price herself is not a thrill a minute.

What I love is the careful crafting of the inter-relations of all the characters, how they’re jockeying subtly for position in their slow sexual dance during the looking-over of Rushworth’s estate and during the play. Everything each person says and does has meaning according to his or her suppressed desire or jealousy. Every time I read one of this woman’s novels I see some other subtle description or hint which I hadn’t noticed before, and I’ve read everything she has written a couple of dozen times each.

Unauthorized Cinnamon, don’t forget Austen’s Lady Susan, which is not a novel but a story told by a series of letters among relations about a femme fatale who’s wreaking havoc in their family. It’s hilarious, in a sort of Becky Sharp way. There are also two unfinished novels consisting of only a couple of chapters each, but they’re still Jane Austen and still brilliant.

You and I are on the opposite ends of the Moore spectrum, I guess. I loved Lamb.

Thanks for the mention of Austen’s Lady Susan, teela. Perhaps I will spend the last of my christmas gift money on it.

Anne Bronte apparently got a lot of flack for being so outspoken on the subject - even from Charlotte, which is surprising.

I mosly mentioned it not thinking about the religious aspect of it, but the way it explores the futility of marrying someone in order to change or “reform” them. Doesn’t work for Helen, doesn’t work for her friend (can’t remember the name) either - although he does in fact reform, the catalyst is mostly a kick up the bum from Helen, not his meek wimpy wife.

The only shame about that book is the bizarre convoluted story-within-a-story-within-a-letter format, which always annoys me. But I keep thinking I must read more Anne Bronte.

Anyone who knows me can tell you I am anything BUT quiet or passive. But I don’t need other people to be like me in order for me to like them.
Fanny has good qualities that not enough people have. And in my experience hanging out with a nice “boring” person like her is preferable to hanging out with a drama queen, who will disrupt your life (I would HATE Lady Susan).
I don’t think Fanny was really all that dull; I think that the people around her assumed she was. But despite that, almost everyone in the book eventually became capitivated by her in some way, even those whom she was not trying to attract. The only major exception was the horrible Mrs. Norris, and what is her good opinion worth anyway?

As other posters have pointed out, Fanny turned out to be more clear-sighted and stronger-willed than people gave her credit for. And she displayed some assertiveness in dealing with her parents and siblings when she stayed at their house. I think that after the book ended, she would have continued to come out of her shell more and more.

However, I admit I’d like her (and everyone I know) to have more sense of humor. And I did think Edmund was a drip.

My theory has always been that Jane Austen kind of wrote MP as a challenge to herself - I think she was trying not to always fall into the trap of making her heroines just like herself. To me, that’s what makes the 1996 film so egregious - Rozema turns around and does just that: makes Fanny into a Jane Austen.

I see Austen as deliberately making her heroines ordinary girls. She did this blatantly in Northanger Abby, making fun of the stereotypically too-noble-to-be-true heroines of popular melodramatic novels. And again somewhat playfully in Emma, taking a girl who was as flawed as a real person would be, and making you root for her. I think Austen knew her audience well - ordinary girls reading her books must have loved the idea that they too could be the heroine of a love story. Even Eliza Bennett or Elinor Dashwood or Anne Eliot, who in different ways WERE too good to be true, probably resonated with a lot of readers as how they saw themselves - cleverer than the people around them, or underappreciated by their own familes, etc.

But most of all, I think what sold me on MP is the depiction of the Henry Crawford character, and how Fanny saw thhrough him in ways others didn’t. Brilliant on Austen’s part - notice how most readers (including myself when I first read it as a 20-something 20th century person) have trouble seeing him as so very bad. And he’s not THAT bad, but still, he is kind of a dick. I like that Austen made it a subtle distinction. Too many romantic novels encourage girls to go for the “bad boy” type, that he’ll change his ways etc. But lets’ face it, that’s not a great idea.

By now I’ve seen a lot of Henry Crawford situations, where everyone around a person was slow to realize that while not a sociopath, the person was kind of a jerk (And yet in those situations there was always a Fanny Price who HAD seen it before anyone else). But I’ve hardly ever seen it written about so realistically as in MP.

Not much of a Mansfield Park fan. As above, I like Mary and Henry Crawford, therefore making them the villians of the piece, while Fanny, who is not likeable, is unsatisfying.

To me, the real villians are the cousins, other than Henry.

And Henry is really the blandest of a bland set of Austen heroes. The only Austen hero I think I wouldn’t mind being married to is Wentworth - the rest of them you can have. Maybe Knightly. Her villians, whether they are Wickham or Frank Churchill or Willoughby or Henry Crawford, are really much more interesting then her heroes.