Um - isn't that the same thing?My impression from Alatar was not that he didn't want people to provide answers to things he was unsure of, but that he wasn't about to go re-reading chapters to find out the answers himself.
fave bookstore) tomorrow on the way back from lunch . . .:D
; so little time! 
Holy Moly this man is brave to have all these women who are trying to manipulate him. YES! I loved that statement, Padme!Padme wrote:I have heard this sort of thing before in real life,
Yes! Much of the story is told in dialog, and quite witty dialog at that. Austen is a strikingly 'modern' writer, don't you think?Alatar wrote:I admit I am very surprised at the writing style. I expected something like George Elliot in style but it's more like Wilde's "Importance of Being Earnest". I did not expect the amount of conversation. The first two chapters contain practically no descriptive narrative aside from what is gleaned from the conversations. The first real section of descriptive narrative is in the third chapter. In the fourth we begin with yet another conversation followed by a "wrap up" of sorts.
Well, I hope it won't annoy Hobby, but... I think it's accurate to picture the Bennets as clinging by their fingernails to just about the lowest rung of the landed gentry ladder.Alatar wrote:Of course, the scene is well set as far as character is concerned, but as a novice I have no idea of the Bennets social status.
I think she was pretty.Alatar wrote:What is obvious almost immediately is Austens ability to write sardonic wit very well. I find myself very much identifying with Mr. Bennet and smiling along with his teasing and deliberate obtuseness. It's hard to imagine how or why he ended up married to an apparently social climbing harridan like his wife, although there is a sense of genuine affection there.
I believe the first line is by way of a topic sentence for the novel. Without question, it is ironic. This is a comedy.Alatar wrote:I wonder a little at the first line. "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." I'm not sure if this is meant to be ambiguous or if that's merely a modern reading. I mean by this that it could mean he needs a wife, that he wants a wife or simply that he does not have a wife. Is this a clever play on words or simply a result of less precise modern language? I have no idea. I like the idea that it's intended to be ambiguous. That any man who does not have a wife, must therefore want and need one. If so, it's very clever and plants the notion firmly in our minds.
I wondered about that. I was trying to compare this to the current novels I read, and it seems Austen is different in two ways that stand out to me. The first is the lack of descriptive text, of environs and specifics about characters. The second is that aspect I believe Alatar pointed out, of rather pointedly stating character traits and how the reader is meant to view the character, rather than letting the reader discover that status through the plot and dialogue.Ethel wrote:Austen is a strikingly 'modern' writer, don't you think?
Yes! One realizes immediately - I am in the hands of a very skilled storyteller. Away we go!Cerin wrote:It's amazing how quickly she has established an intimacy with the characters for the reader. I feel as if I've been a part of that circle and have been chatting with these people all my life.
Perhaps you were thinking of the Victorians. But really, I cannot think of another writer of Austen's era who moves as quickly at storytelling.Cerin wrote:I realized I was surprised at the lack of descriptive text. I suppose I expected rapturous passages describing the beautiful English countryside (don't know why), but there hasn't been a single thing described, not even the characters (except for vague terms like handsome). It is entirely interior, and almost all dialogue! (Perhaps Ms. Austen wasn't paid by the word, as I've heard say Mr. Dickens was).
Yes. But it's hardly an uncommon fate, is it? In those days respectable people did not divorce. They found ways to cope. He enjoyed his library, his comfortable home, and his witty second daughter. He made do.Cerin wrote:Mr. Bennet seems disdainful of his wife, and she is too dull to even know when he is insulting her. I was thinking that a marriage like this in our day and age would have ended in divorce; but my understanding of those times was that people's circles were limited, and I suppose if you met someone you could halfway tolerate the practical exigencies compelled people to marry. How awful to have to be married to someone you didn't respect, though.
Yes, this is cruel, and we are meant to understand it as such. Mr Bennet does not suffer fools gladly, and he pretty much considers his entire family (with the exception of Elizabeth) to be fools. Probably not very comfortable for them.Cerin wrote:I must say, I really felt for Mary here:
I sort of feel like that here, among people of such exceptional wit and intelligence! I think Whistler would certainly give Mr. Bennett a run for his money in the humour department. Though Mr. Bennett does have an edge of cruelty about him that I do not find attractive.Chapter Two wrote:'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.'
Her self-confidence, her poise and balance, are indeed remarkable. I think it's quite likely the result of her father's attention. (I actually think something similar was true of Jane Austen.) Elizabeth is genuinely offended, but she is also able to see the humor in the situation. How can one not enjoy the company of such a creature?Cerin wrote:I thought it was really interesting and revealing that Elizabeth was able to enjoy telling people how Darcy rejected her. I think a less secure person would blush in embarrassment to recall such an incident, much less enjoy relating the story to others, so I found that very telling indeed. She is clearly a very self-confident person (in part because her father favored her, I wonder?).
Well, I must respectfully disagree. But this gets ahead of the story, so I must make a date to argue with you later.vison wrote:I don't agree, Ethel, that the Bennetts were clinging to the lowest rung of the landed gentry. They evidently had a pretty good income. I recall Mrs. Bennett pointing out to someone or other that she had a man cook, and she had a housekeeper, as well as the requisite maids and men. There is no sense of "scrimping and saving", the girls all seem to have plenty of clothes and toys, and were provided with whatever masters they wished to learn music or drawing, etc. There is never any sense, either, that there were any "grander" families in the neighbourhood, never any idea that anyone living near them looked down on them. They were "society" in their little village and surrounding countryside. They were not aristocracy, of course, nor were they great untitled grandees. But gentry, just the same.
Oh, good. Something other than a P/R fight!Ethel wrote:Well, I must respectfully disagree. But this gets ahead of the story, so I must make a date to argue with you later.vison wrote:I don't agree, Ethel, that the Bennetts were clinging to the lowest rung of the landed gentry. They evidently had a pretty good income. I recall Mrs. Bennett pointing out to someone or other that she had a man cook, and she had a housekeeper, as well as the requisite maids and men. There is no sense of "scrimping and saving", the girls all seem to have plenty of clothes and toys, and were provided with whatever masters they wished to learn music or drawing, etc. There is never any sense, either, that there were any "grander" families in the neighbourhood, never any idea that anyone living near them looked down on them. They were "society" in their little village and surrounding countryside. They were not aristocracy, of course, nor were they great untitled grandees. But gentry, just the same.
