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| 1995 Mrs. Smith: she does | |
| an excellent job capturing Mrs. Smith's | |
| pleasure in life. |
In Chapter 12 of Persuadable, Will Elliot visits Mrs. Smith.
Mrs. Smith is one of Austen's most interesting minor characters. She is a resilient widow whose once well-off late husband lost all his money to extravagance. Although her husband owned property in the West Indies, which could give Mrs. Smith a respectable income, that property is "encumbered" (used to pay off debts), and Mrs. Smith can't touch the "rents."
Based on this slim information, some literary analysts have criticized the Mrs. Smith character for her willingness to live off the slave trade (the West Indies property would likely use slaves); Jane Austen herself was not a supporter of slavery, and I was tempted to give Mr. Elliot noble reasons for not helping Mrs. Smith recover the property.
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| West Indies Map |
Of course, this brings up the issue of Austen's supposed ignorance of political and social issues. Frankly, this is such a stupid criticism of the writer that I have difficulty taking it even momentarily seriously; plus, at the risk of sounding like a ticked-off feminist, it is not an argument one often hears about male writers who focus on domestic plots. In any case, excellent biographies of Jane Austen, including Paula Bryne's The Real Jane Austen, have effectively disputed this characterization. Jane Austen was not only well-aware of current political and social issues, she had immediate familial investments in many of them.
In other words, Austen not writing directly about war (pro-Austen commentators will point out that she constantly indirectly references current events) was a deliberate decision. Fiction is conscious creation; writers will focus how and where they choose.
In addition, there's the issue of value: why should a war automatically be more important than a domestic quarrel as an exploration of human behavior? After all, why do Austen's critical analysts suppose wars and revolutions are carried out? Despite the unnerving and tunnel-vision attitudes of many activists, they are generally NOT carried out for the sake of more wars and revolutions. Rightly or wrongly, they are usually carried out to create a better life somewhere for someone. In other words, they are carried out so people can get married and not have to worry about soldiers cluttering up their living rooms.
In any case, I have always considered literary analysis that insists that all literature have an IMPORTANT MESSAGE to be trite to the nth degree. Well-fashioned prose has done more to keep the world turning than any so-called IMPORTANT bumper sticker.
Mrs. Smith is a great example of what truly matters. Here is Austen's description:
A submissive spirit might be patient, a strong understanding would supply resolution, but here [in Mrs. Smith] was something more; here was that elasticity of mind, that disposition to be comforted, that power of turning readily from evil to good, and of finding employment which carried her out of herself, which was from nature alone. It was the choicest gift of Heaven; and Anne viewed her friend as one of those instances in which, by a merciful appointment, it seems designed to counterbalance almost every other want.And here is my scene between this tough lady and Will Elliot:
Will went to see Mrs. Smith. Her husband had been a friendly companion years before—if entirely clueless about money matters.
“Anne was just here,” Mrs. Smith said as Will entered her tiny apartment. She spoke with cheerful satisfaction. “You’ve lost your chance to resurrect your character.”
“I never thought it needed reviving.”
“You treated Charlie abominably.” She sounded more eager to make her point than reproachful of the results. “You led him into deep spending.”
“Charlie would have been a gambler even if we’d never met.”
“He admired you. You could have cautioned him, guided him.”
“Gamblers can’t be reformed. I wasn’t his keeper.”
“How very like Cain.”
“Is that why you sabotaged my relationship with Anne Elliot?”
Mrs. Smith said, “I did know her before I knew you. We went to school together. Don’t you remember me mentioning her?”
“Possibly. I paid minimal attention to remarks about my cousins.”
“Well, I simply told her the truth about you.”
Will sighed and collapsed on the frayed sofa. Mrs. Smith wiggled into a more comfortable position in her chair beside the small fire. She looked at him expectantly.
He said, “I never agreed to be Charlie’s executor.”
“He considered you a good friend.”
“Charlie considered John Kemble a good friend because he saw all of Kemble’s plays.”
Mrs. Smith’s mouth twisted in wry agreement, but she didn’t lose the thread of her argument: “But he left you in charge of our affairs.”
“You don’t have any.”
“The West Indies property—”
“Which Charlie did nothing to maintain. It has multiple encumbrances that would have to be paid off before the land could be sold. You’d be better served asking your friend Anne Elliot to give you money directly.”
“I thought she might do so—as your bride.”
“Then why oppose the match?”
“I did not until she indicated her affections lie elsewhere.”
“Captain Wentworth,” Will said.
Mrs. Smith leaned forward, mouth forming an oh. She said, “What is he like?”
“Upright, decent. He would help you. He can afford it.”
“So can you.”
“I don’t throw good money after bad. Would you really have let your friend marry such a greedy, cold-hearted bastard as myself?”
Mrs. Smith didn’t wince; she’d heard worse language as one of Will’s former crowd.
“Life with you would be preferable to life with such a father and sisters! As your wife, Anne might even have flourished—unlike Sally.”
“I never misused Sally,” Will said sharply. “If my wife told you stories—”
“You wouldn’t let her go to parties.”
“So I watched Sally too closely and your husband not closely enough. You were most selective in what you told Anne Elliot.”
“She isn’t your type.”
“No,” Will said agreeably and rose.
Mrs. Smith said with eye-brightening interest, “You prefer another?”
He smiled at her lazily. “What would Bath do without gossip?”
“Mrs. Clay?” She was horrified but also delighted. “Why would you pursue a woman of such low origin?”
He looked down at the avid, curiosity-filled face, gazed around the small compartment with its bright pictures and fabrics.
“She’s a survivor,” he said. “Like you.”
