Read Along: Pride & Prejudice - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room, where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit. 

But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object; Miss Bingley's eyes were instantly turned toward Darcy, and she had something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself to Miss Bennet, with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said he was "very glad;" but diffuseness and warmth remained for Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer from the change of room; and she removed at his desire to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be further from the door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else. Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great delight. 

When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the card-table—but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr. Darcy did not wish for cards; and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr. Hurst had therefore nothing to do, but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book; Miss Bingley did the same; and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and rings, joined now and then in her brother's conversation with Miss Bennet. 

(Mr Darcy likes books!)

Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library." 

Ahahaha I kind of love Mr Darcy here.

No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest for some amusement; when hearing her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said: 

"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure." 

"If you mean Darcy," cried her brother, "he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins—but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards." 

"I should like balls infinitely better," she replied, "if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day." 

This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure.

"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball." 

Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards she got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more, and, turning to Elizabeth, said: 

"Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude." 

It's moments like these that make me think that life for these people must be really really dull. I think the next time I am at a house party I will entertain myself by walking around, what do you reckon?

Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere. "What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his meaning?"—and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him? 

"Not at all," was her answer; "but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it." 

Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an explanation of his two motives. 

"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. "You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire." 

Is Mr Darcy just oblivious to how much Miss Bingley and Elizabeth dislike each other, or is everyone just too polite for that to be obvious? I'd guess the latter except that Caroline spends every second minute she's alone with Mr Darcy snarking at Elizabeth. So... weird?

"Oh! shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?" 

"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Elizabeth. "We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done." 

"But upon my honour, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself." 

"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!" cried Elizabeth. "That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh." 

"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke." 

"Certainly," replied Elizabeth—"there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without." 

"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule." 

"Such as vanity and pride." 

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation." 

 "I'm not proud - I really am just better than everyone."

Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile. 

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss Bingley; "and pray what is the result?" 

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise." 

"No," said Darcy, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever." 

"That is a failing indeed!" cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me." 

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome." 

"And your defect is to hate everybody." 

"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them." 

"Do let us have a little music," cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst?" 

Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened; and Darcy, after a few moments' recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.

Happy New Year everyone, You'll hear from me again in 2013!

Read Along: Pride & Prejudice - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing-room. The loo-table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game. 

Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in union with her opinion of each. 

"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!" 

He made no answer. 

"You write uncommonly fast." 

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly." 

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!" 

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours." 

"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her." 

"I have already told her so once, by your desire." 

"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well." 

"Thank you—but I always mend my own." 

"How can you contrive to write so even?" 

He was silent. 

"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp; and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's." 

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice." 

"Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy? 

"They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me to determine." 

"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill." 

"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried her brother, "because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?" 

"My style of writing is very different from yours." 

"Oh!" cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest." 

"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them—by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents." 

"Your humility, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth, "must disarm reproof." 

"Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy, "than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast." 

"And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?" 

"The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself—and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?" 

"Nay," cried Bingley, "this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless precipitance merely to show off before the ladies." 

"I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, 'Bingley, you had better stay till next week,' you would probably do it, you would probably not go—and at another word, might stay a month." 

"You have only proved by this," cried Elizabeth, "that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more than he did himself." 

"I am exceedingly gratified," said Bingley, "by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could." 

"Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intentions as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?" 

"Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for himself." 

"You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety." 

"To yield readily—easily—to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you." 

"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either." 

Austen revisits this argument (is being persuadable a positive character trait or not?) in a lot more depth  in, funnily enough, Persuasion. Pride and Prejudice was one of her earliest novels (despite the fact that it was published after Sense and Sensibility it was actually written earlier) and Persuasion is one of her last. It seems to have been something she thought about for a long time.

"You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?" 

I feel like I should have more to say about this given how important this will be in upcoming chapters but... I know at least one of you is reading along at the same time and although it might be weird to think about spoilers when we're talking about a 200+ year old book... I don't want to talk too much about stuff that hasn't happened yet. But in summary...

Mr Bingley is impulsive and quick to make decisions (more so than Mr Darcy)
Mr Bingley is easily persuaded, or at least is generally happy to do things just because his friends want him to - I'd imagine that one of the reasons he might like Mr Darcy so much is because he can just rely on Mr Darcy's judgement and trust him.

"Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?" 

"By all means," cried Bingley; "let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do." 

I wonder sometimes about Mr and Mrs Hurst who basically haven't said anything for ages. I imagine Mr Hurst is just interested in his card game but I don't imagine watching the card game is super exciting for Mrs Hurst. Suddenly the adaptions where they leave Mr and Mrs Hurst out entirely make much more sense.

Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense. 

"I see your design, Bingley," said his friend. "You dislike an argument, and want to silence this." 

"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me." 

"What you ask," said Elizabeth, "is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter." 

Remember back in Chapter 5 when Jane said

"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that he never speaks much, unless among his intimate acquaintances. With them he is remarkably agreeable."

He certainly is much chattier among people he knows and/or likes. 

Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter. 

When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for an indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with some alacrity to the pianoforte; and, after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself. 

Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy's eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, at last that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.  

Even in these early chapters the simplest explanation of Mr Darcy's behaviour is that he likes Elizabeth quite a lot - but Elizabeth immediately discards the idea. Pretty sure when she calls him a 'great' man here she doesn't mean that he's awesome, btw.

After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her:
"Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?" 

She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence. 

"Oh!" said she, "I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare." 

"Indeed I do not dare." 

Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger. 

Miss Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth. 

She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance. 

"I hope," said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, "you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses." 

"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?" 

"Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"
"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied." 

At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth herself. 

"I did not know that you intended to walk," said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard. 

"You used us abominably ill," answered Mrs. Hurst, "running away without telling us that you were coming out." 

Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness, and immediately said:
"This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue."
But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered: 

"No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye." 

She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.

So happy whatever to people who celebrate That Sort Of Thing. I hope you enjoy the holiday season wherever you are. If you have been enjoying this blog and would like to give me a christmas present then I'd be super excited by the following things

Leave a comment
Tell someone about my blog

Next week: The last Read Along post for 2012!

Life of Pi: or immunity to deepness: or there is a spoon

I grew up in a "new age" environment, attending a Rudolph Steiner school in Cape Byron from 1989 until 1994, and not even a measles outbreak in the early 90s which more than halved our class size for a week was enough to shake the anti-vaccination attitude of my parents, peers and most importantly myself.

As a child I read Richard Bach and James Redfield, and graduated naturally to Neale Donald Walsch, which distilled in my adolescent self the sort of arrogance that lead to my parents praising me as wise and my early high-school teachers not knowing how to mark my book reports.

In year 8 I wrote a fairly thoroughly (but not well) researched anti-vaccination diatribe for my persuasive writing piece. I felt that I researched both anti-vaccination and pro-vaccination arguments. I no longer have a copy of the essay I wrote - I'm glad of that. I was thrilled that my teacher didn't quite know how to react. You might think that my overwhelming smugness would have prevented me from having any friends at all but apart from that essay and a few book reports on books I wasn't old enough to understand or appreciate (but I did anyway; both understand and appreciate) I didn't really let it out that much, and I'm sure that with a different upbringing my utter lack of confidence, anxiety and introversion would have made me equally as friendless.

We were something close to enlightened, I thought. Secure in our superiority at least. Lamenting the inability of the common people to really understand.

My youth warped messages that older people found inspiring into something all consuming. I was burned from the inside out. I was in awe of my own magnificence, and the magnificence of the universe. And inside my awe was the sort of soul crushing depression which lead to notebooks full of bad poetry lamenting the certainty of my own miserable existence (as contrasted with the uncertainty of absolutely anything else).

I was anti-vaccination until I found anti-anti-vaccination websites online. Until that time I hadn't even known that there was an anti-anti-vaccination movement and it wasn't the arguments against anti-vaccination that persuaded me so much as the very existence of them. I had thought that my philosophies of life were incompatible with almost everyone I knew because I was wiser or more enlightened.

There was a sort of epiphany to realise that other people might have discarded ideas like mine not because they weren't ready for them, but because maybe they were fucking bullshit.

In 1999 I saw The Matrix in the cinema. I liked the part where they ran out of plot and started shooting stuff but while my friends declared the movie "so deep"... I didn't really care about it. At all.

I was exposed early to pulp-pseudo-philosophy and, once I recovered, I'd become immune.

Which is all a very long way of explaining why I think I miss out (but don't miss) on something other people experience watching (or reading - I haven't read the book yet) Life of Pi. It was incredibly pretty - perhaps the most visually spectacular film I've ever seen. It was thoroughly enjoyable and brought me to tears more than once. But it didn't move me. I got it, I'm sure I'm not missing anything that people who find the story deep and spiritually moving see; nevertheless, I remain unmoved.

(It's also a long way of explaining that I'm apparently still pretty smug.)

Review: My Ex Boyfriend The Space Tyrant

About 10 years ago on of my uni friends told me he was writing and making a gay-themed adventure game called 'My Ex-Boyfriend the Space Tyrant' and I was super excited because I loved adventure games when I was a kid.

And finally after many years the game is here! I haven't played a lot of it yet but it's making me laugh a lot so far!

I'm not a gay man, but like gay men I have way more interest in looking at scantily clad men than I have interest in looking at scantily clad women which makes this game... enjoyable to look at. But I read on the internet all the time that scantily clad women in games and comics are "empowered" or something so... yeah, whatever.

The graphics of the game itself look quite polished, but if I had one criticism it would be the peripherals - menus and extra bits. The way the labels for things you're looking at come up doesn't quite fit with the polish of the characters, and I did accidentally exit once without saving when I didn't realise that the 'exit' in the menu would exit the game, rather than just the menu I was in.

I haven't got too far into it so far (see accidentally exiting without saving) but so far I'm finding the game very fun and very very funny!

It weirds me out when people think that anything game-themed must also be "adults only". I would say this game is not suitable for children who are uncomfortable with frequent mentions of sex (and lots of sexual innuendo) and porn though. I remember when I was about 12 my stepdad let me play Leisure Suit Larry which mostly made me feel uncomfortable, embarassed and slightly unwell so, you know. I don't really want to draw general comparisons though because LSL was super gross.

So anyway if you like indie games, games which aren't targeted exclusively at hetero-males, doctor who jokes and adventure games, then I recommend My Ex Boyfriend The Space Pirate.

Read Along: Pride & Prejudice - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister's room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgement of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast. 

Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She would not listen, therefore, to her daughter's proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss Bingley's appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected. 

"Indeed I have, sir," was her answer. "She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness." 

"Removed!" cried Bingley. "It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal." 

"You may depend upon it, Madam," said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, "that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention while she remains with us." 

Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments. 

"I am sure," she added, "if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her.

Charming!

You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease." 

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied he; "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here." 

"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Elizabeth. 

"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning towards her. 

"Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly." 

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful." 

"That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours." 

"Lizzy," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home." 

"I did not know before," continued Bingley immediately, "that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study." 

"Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage." 

"The country," said Darcy, "can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society." 

"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever." 

"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town." 

Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph. 

"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?" 

"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either." 

"Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," looking at Darcy, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all." 

"Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken," said Elizabeth, blushing for her mother. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true." 

"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families." 

I wonder if some of Elizabeth's resentment of Darcy can be attributed to the fact that he brings out the worst of her mother. I know that Lizzy doesn't have 100% warm and fuzzy feelings toward her Mum but she does seem to be basically the worst around Mr Darcy which must be really difficult to deal with.

Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away. 

"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter." 

"Did Charlotte dine with you?" 

"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain—but then she is our particular friend." 

"She seems a very pleasant young woman." 

"Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were." 

"And so ended his affection," said Elizabeth impatiently. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!" 

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Darcy. 

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away." 

I find this quite interesting because from Lizzy's POV she's basically always irritated by this dude who insulted her before he even met her, so she's all just "ugh no". But Darcy spends a lot of time hanging out with Miss Bingley who just agrees with everything he says and is constantly telling him how wonderful he is: so here's a lady that is actually having something resembling a conversation with him! Argument! Yay!

Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield. 

Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother's ear: 

"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill." 

Lydia declared herself satisfied. "Oh! yes—it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball," she added, "I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not." 

Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley's witticisms on fine eyes.

I can't really find much to say about this chapter. Elizabeth is embarassed by Mrs Bennet, Caroline Bingley finds Mrs Bennet ridiculous, Mr Bingley is adorable and Mr Darcy tries to talk to Elizabeth but she pretty much shuts him down. That's interesting I guess?

Anyone else have any thoughts?

Review: Arrow

My husband and I have watched, I think 3?, episodes of Arrow so far. Spoilers follow, but mostly ones you should probably know about before you start watching the show.

Arrow is a new show set in the DC universe, about the Green Arrow. One of those boring superheroes that doesn't actually have any super-powers he's just a rich dude with mad skills (I'm kind of a superman fan, sorry).

Oliver Queen comes back from the dead when he's found on a deserted island off the coast of China, 5 years after he was mourned as dead by his friends and family. Apparently the fact that it was a deserted island is super important because they mention it a LOT.

And basically NOTHING IN THE SHOW MAKES ANY SENSE if you believe that that is true. After being stranded on a deserted island for 5 years, Oliver Queen is suddenly super awesome at shooting arrows, hand-to-hand fighting, knife throwing and Russian. I spent most of the first two episodes shouting "HOW DID HE LEARN THAT ON A DESERTED ISLAND" at the TV, and if laughing at how NOTHING MADE SENSE AT ALL wasn't so much fun I really would have given up on the show right there and then. Seriously. In the first episode (I think) he HACKS (untraceably!) a bank account. With an arrow. I bet they run classes for that sort of thing ON DESERTED ISLANDS.

I would have bought it a lot more easily if there was some kind of weird glowy shrine on the island that gave him super-arrow powers. Really. That would have seemed way less stupid.

But then a few episodes in there is a big reveal that he wasn't alone on the island after all! Seriously - this should not have been something they waited several episodes to reveal. Basically NOTHING that happened before the reveal made ANY SENSE AT ALL. Now it still doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but there's a certain amount of nonsense I'll buy when everything is taking place in a comic book universe.

I'm having a lot of trouble following anyone's motivation in the show though, and I don't really understand Queen's priorities so much. He's basically a vigilante who's not afraid to kill a bunch of henchmen to take out a baddie each episode. But then in the episode I just watched someone beat him to the baddie... so he went after that guy instead for being a killer (apparently he kills without 'honour' or some shit, whatever).

So yeah he kills people for being corrupt (or really for being on his Daddy's List Of Terrible People). But really if we tally his body count he mostly kills people for working for the people DLOTP. And it mostly makes me feel sad because... I don't imagine that everyone has the luxury of choice here. People have to pay their bills!

Also there was this part where Queen's ex-girlfriend (that he was cheating on, with her sister, when his boat sunk and she died along with everyone else except him) slept with his best friend. Then apparently they were supposed to apologise because apparently it's super important to remain faithful to your cheating, dead boyfriend? or Something? It was kind of gross.

I'm trying to think of things I actually like about this show to justify the fact that I am going to keep watching it but... uh, honestly I am mostly enjoying snarking at it. So there's that. I'll probably see out the season and then try and decide whether it's worth watching any more of it or not (unless it gets really bad in the meantime, I guess!)

PS. At one point in the 3rd episode there were 5 people in a scene and only 2 of them were white. So that was kind of neat!

Read Along: Pride & Prejudice - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

At five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley's, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her former dislike.

Jane is a cure for boredom for these ladies, if they're not bored they don't care about her. Humph. I seem to be liking Jane a lot more than I do usually, weird.

Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards; who, when he found her to prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her. 

When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added: 

I always find this part to be disconcerting because so much of the novel, particularly the later more exciting/angsty parts, takes place from Elizabeth's point of view.

"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild." 

"She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!" 

"Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office." 

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said Bingley; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice." 

"You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley; "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition." 

"Certainly not." 

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum." 

"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley. 

How adorable is Mr Bingley? So adorable.

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes." 

"Not at all," he replied; "they were brightened by the exercise." A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again: 

"I have an excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it." 

"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton." 

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside." 

The Cheapside uncle is Mr Gardiner who does some kind of trade. The Bingley sisters are forgetting where their own fortune came from here. Snobs!

"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed heartily. 

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable." 

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy. 

To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations. 

With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her sleep, and when it seemed to her rather right than pleasant that she should go downstairs herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment. 

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he; "that is rather singular." 

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else." 

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried Elizabeth; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things." 

This is one of my favourite lines. I have lots of favourites, and this is one of them.

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said Bingley; "and I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well."

Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards the table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others—all that his library afforded. 

"And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into." 

Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room. 

"I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!" 

"It ought to be good," he replied, "it has been the work of many generations." 

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books." 

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these." 

Mr Darcy really likes books. This doesn't excuse his recent creepiness but it's a plus I guess.

"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley." 

"I wish it may." 

"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire." 

"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it." 

"I am talking of possibilities, Charles." 

"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation." 

Another one of my favourite lines.

Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, as to leave her very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister, to observe the game. 

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" said Miss Bingley; "will she be as tall as I am?" 

"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller." 

"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite." 

"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are." 

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?" 

"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished." 

I find this really weird because I have read basically all of Austen's novels a bunch of times and ladies are frequently described as being accomplished... but I think this is the first I have heard of painting tables, covering screens and netting purses. In fact, I don't even know what any of those things mean.

The accomplished ladies in the novels sing, play piano and/or harp, speak and read non-english languages and draw.

"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," said Darcy, "has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished." 

"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley. 

"Then," observed Elizabeth, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman." 

"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it." 

"Oh! certainly," cried his faithful assistant, "no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved." 

"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading." 

(he really likes reading!)

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any." 

"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?" 

"I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united." 

Lizzy dear, I'm on your team here but as will be pointed out in Chapter 9 you don't... really know that many people.

Also, I would like to point out that Mr Darcy has become slightly less creepy in that he is actually having conversations with Elizabeth rather than just creeping around eavesdropping on her. Good work, Fitzwilliam.

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room. 

"Elizabeth Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art." 

Ahaha I love this. Hate to be one of those women who hates on other women, eh Caroline?

"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, "there is a meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable." 

Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject.

Haha!

Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.

<3

Read Along: Pride & Prejudice - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation;

I want to get away without saying "just like in Downton Abbey!" here because augh, obviously when I watched Downton Abbey and there was all the entail stuff I was delighted to understand what was going on because it was "just like in Pride & Prejudice!". But if you've seen Downton Abbey and this is your first time reading Pride & Prejudice - basically it's the same thing. It's not that women can't inherit any property ever; Anne De Bourgh is the heiress of Rosings Park; but women can't inherit this property.

and their mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds. 

She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade. 

The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a milliner's shop just over the way. 

How great is the word 'thither'? It's super great. Also hats. Are hats this important to everyone? Or do the Bennets just like hats?

The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters. 

So I know that Mary spends her time reading, philosophising and practicing her music. To me that doesn't seem like a lot to fill up basically all of her time. They can walk to Meryton in like, what, 15-20mins? Even if they go to Meryton every day... what do they do the rest of their time? What to Jane and Elizabeth do at all if they don't feel the need to walk around the corner and gossip with their aunt every day?
As a person with basically no employment at present I have to say that life sounds fairly dull.

Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign. 

After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed: 

"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced." 

Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London. 

"I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, "that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, however." 

"If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it." 

"Yes—but as it happens, they are all of them very clever." 

"This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish." 

Are they flirting again? I think they're flirting.

"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well—and, indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in his regimentals." 

"Mamma," cried Lydia, "my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library." 

Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter read, 

"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love." 

"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it aloud. 

"MY DEAR FRIEND,— 

"If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.—Yours ever, 

"CAROLINE BINGLEY" 

 Speaking of being bored, Miss Bingley's invitation to Jane is not very nice. Jane seems like a very nice person - everyone likes her: she's kind and sweet and intelligent and pretty. Caroline basically says she's bored and wants Jane to come and make sure she doesn't argue with her sister. She couldn't even pretend that it was about Jane? Or would that be too forward and creepy? I just don't know.

"With the officers!" cried Lydia. "I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that." 

"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet, "that is very unlucky." 

"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane. 

"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night." 

"That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home." 

"Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs." 

"I had much rather go in the coach." 

"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?" 

"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them." 

"But if you have got them to-day," said Elizabeth, "my mother's purpose will be answered." 

She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back. 

This makes me sad because Jane wanted to go in the carriage, but apparently what she wanted was irrelevant and it seems like everyone ganged up on her.

"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:  

"MY DEAREST LIZZY,— 

"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.—Yours, etc." 

"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, "if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness—if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders." 

"Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage." 

Mrs Bennet wouldn't go on horseback >:(

Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her resolution. 

"How can you be so silly," cried her mother, "as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there." 

"I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want." 

"Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," said her father, "to send for the horses?" 

We see that they can have the horses, if they want them. Jane could have had them yesterday. And it's not like Jane was just being a total doormat or anything: Jane asked for the carriage, when told she ought to go on horseback she said very clearly that she would prefer to have the carriage. How much insisting was she supposed to do? Lizzy gets offered the carriage when she declares her intention to walk. Mrs Bennet decided what she wanted and Lizzy basically colluded with her to get Mr Bennet to refuse the horses. Ugh. I basically hate everyone right now. Why did both Lizzy and Mr Bennet just totally ignore Jane's very clear requests? Ugh. I think there was just no way for Jane to win this one.

Later in the novel Lydia will refuse to back down from getting what she wants and we'll see how much respect that gets her (hint: not a lot).

"No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner." 

"I admire the activity of your benevolence," observed Mary, "but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required." 

3 miles is 4.8km. When I was preparing these notes my husband and I were on a train and I asked him how far 3 miles was. He answered "4.82km" almost immediately. This is what they teach you in the Navy, folks. So at a fairly brisk walking pace that is 48min. For most people it's probably near on an hour. It seems clear from the narrative that this is a long way for her to walk and that doing so is rather eccentric of her.

"We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Catherine and Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together. 

"If we make haste," said Lydia, as they walked along, "perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes." 

In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. 

She was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise.

I wonder if it means anything that the hours are quite different between the two houses. I guess this is a house full of twenty-somethings instead of a family but Elizabeth finished her breakfast, then walked for an hour and here they are at Netherfield still going at it. Guess the young people stay up later and get up later or something? Is it significant?

That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast. 

Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little besides expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her. 

Well given that when Jane does ask for what she wants she's basically ignored, it seems unsurprising to me that she learns not to do it SADFACE

When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment; nor were the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had, in fact, nothing to do elsewhere. 

Again, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst see Jane as a good cure for boredom.

When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

I'm not going to pretend that Downton Abbey is perfect (it seems to mostly be about men making terrible decisions all over the place and women doing most of the suffering for it and honestly I just can't bring myself to care very much about whether some dude that has run out of money multiple times, mostly because he makes terrible decisions about things, gets to keep his big shiny house or not) but one of the things I do like about it is that the servants are all people which seems to be a very modern thing to do in stories - Downton Abbey isn't the first or only story where servants get to be characters, but it's the one I actually watch. Servants are mentioned several times in this book, they're all over the place delivering messages and letters, cooking the food, doing their hair, being in houses by the end of weeks and very few of them even get names (the only ones I can think of are Mrs Hill, the housekeeper, who is mentioned three times, and Sarah one of the maids who is mentioned once). They're generally just "a servant". Three servants have been mentioned in just this chapter: were they three different servants?

Review: The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

I pretty much feel unqualified to review this book because I have, as they say on the tumblrs, "all the feels".

I generally cry reading books - even happy ones, but usually it's that slightly glamorous, dabbing eyes with a tissue crying. Two books in my life have made me do more than weep after they ended: to actually vocally cry out in emotional pain.

The first was Bilgewater by Jane Gardam which I read in (I think) year 10 for literature class. I read the whole thing in one evening and then suffered through half a semester of my classmates not appreciating the book like I did.

The second was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and I know it's fashionable these days to hate on Harry Potter or to see the books as guilty pleasures, but I feel like I'm too old to feel bad about anything I like these days, so there.

I was two-thirds of the way through The Fault in Our Stars by John Green when my husband took my e-Reader from my hands in order to hold me and I sobbed into his shoulder but really I just wanted to get back to the book, which I then did.

Then when I looked the book up online it turns out that the author is one of those people I see GIFs of on tumblr waving his arms around and saying stuff, so there you go.

So this review hasn't really been about the book, I realise, let's just say that I really really liked it.

Read Along: Pride & Prejudice - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing manners grew on the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane, this attention was received with the greatest pleasure, but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration.

Given later events I suspect that Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley do not like Jane just because their brother does... I think they're just bored and think everyone else sucks even more.

It was generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire her and to her it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas. 

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Charlotte, "to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on." 

Charlotte gives flirting lessons.

"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to discover it too." 

"Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition as you do." 

"But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out." 

This is, in my experience, not actually true. I had an enormous crush on a young man once and he... had no idea. I flirted and made all sorts of excuses to spend more time with him and gazed at him adoringly across rooms and when I finally worked up the courage to ask him out he was super super surprised because he had no idea at all (6.5 years later we got married. hooray!). So I'm going to side with Charlotte here.

"Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses." 

"Your plan is a good one," replied Elizabeth, "where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Jane's feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character." 

"Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have also been spent together—and four evenings may do a great deal." 

"Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded." 

Vingt-un is totally blackjack. I don't know what Commerce is but presumably another card game.

"Well," said Charlotte, "I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life." 

I've read theories before that Charlotte is a lesbian but my own theory is that she's asexual (and aromantic). Unlike Mary, her plain looks don't seem to be a source of angst to her and it's not like she has no idea of the goings on between men and women. It just doesn't seem like the whole love thing is something she does herself or understands on a personal level.

"You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself." 

Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with. 

He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas's, where a large party were assembled. 

So he's basically too shy to talk to her himself so he just stands near her and listens to her conversations with other people. That's... creepy. I bet he just imagines things he's interjecting and imagines that she laughs at his jokes.

"What does Mr. Darcy mean," said she to Charlotte, "by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?" 

"That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer." 

"But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him." 

'I guess I better tell him to piss off because he's beginning to creep me out'. Augh! Why did I ever start reading this book so closely, it's starting to get weird and unpleasant.

On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said:

He came toward them but wasn't going to say anything. Just stand nearby. What.

"Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?" 

And I guess from Darcy's point of view his strategy has succeeded as she's now having an actual conversation with him!

"With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic." 

"You are severe on us." 

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss Lucas. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows." 

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers." On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, "Very well, if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'; and I shall keep mine to swell my song." 

Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display. 

 I find it interesting that there really does seem to be an objective standard of beauty and a distinct line between people who are handsome and people who are plain. Mary and Charlotte are plain. Pretty much all the other women who have been described are handsome. Jane is the prettiest ever. I suppose that Darcy does describe Elizabeth as merely tolerable but I suspect that was mostly to get out of dancing with her. Also because he's a hater. I like hater!Darcy way better than creeper!Darcy though.

Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room. 

Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began: 

It's funny that he's cross about conversation being excluded from the evening when it's been pointed out that he doesn't really talk much except when he's around people he already knows super well and he's walking around approaching people that he has no intention of actually speaking to. I guess he doesn't want to talk, he just wants to listen to Elizabeth talk to other people.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society." 

"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance." 

Sir William only smiled. "Your friend performs delightfully," he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; "and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy." 

"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir." 

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?" 

"Never, sir." 

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?" 

"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it." 

"You have a house in town, I conclude?" 

Mr. Darcy bowed. 

"I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself—for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas." 

He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her: 

'I'm bored of this conversation, so I'm just going to stop talking'. Mr Darcy would make a good Bennet.

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you." And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William: 

"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner." 

Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion. 

"You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour." 

"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," said Elizabeth, smiling. 

"He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance—for who would object to such a partner?" 

Who indeed? Ouch.

Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley: 

"I can guess the subject of your reverie." 

"I should imagine not." 

"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!" 

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow." 

Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity: 

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet." 

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" repeated Miss Bingley. "I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite?—and pray, when am I to wish you joy?" 

Wishing people joy, is apparently what people do when people get married.

"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy." 

"Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you." 

He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.

So how is the Read Along schedule working out for you folks so far? At one chapter a week it's going to take us over a year to get through the book; are you all going to get bored and leave me? I'm pretty sure that I can keep a regular pace at once a week, more frequently than that may get a bit spotty. Would that bother you? Would more than once a week be too much to keep up with? What is the relative importance of frequency vs regularity?

Anyway a big thanks to everyone who is reading and especially the people who comment. Yay comments. I'm really enjoying this series so far and I really hope you are too!