1. People can change

Ok, so I went into Mansfield Park knowing nothing. I was surprised by the differences in heroine (poor; physically weak; shy) and the severity of her surrounding friends and relations (cruel, or at the least negligent; crude; condescending; and cynical towards tradition and religion). Coming off of P&P, where the initially unlikeable character turns out to be one of the best people around, I pretty much expected that the immoral characters would redeem themselves. I didn't necessarily want this to happen, but I expected it to.

But I was surprised that the characters who were charming and morally bankrupt stayed that way, and subsequently lived out the consequences of their choices. The Crawfords surprised and fascinated me, as they are meant to. When I read Deresiewicz's chapter on MP, I was happy to see him link Mary C with Elizabeth Bennet, because I struggled with their similarities. Early on in MP, I thought that but for a slight difference, Mary Crawford could be the heroine of the novel. She was lively, charming, and clever--like Elizabeth Bennet. It's difficult not to like her. She's much more fun than Fanny. But she lacked Elizabeth's sincerity. Like I wrote a few weeks ago; Elizabeth said she hoped never to laugh at what was wise and good. Mary Crawford, on the other hand, does just that, mocking the Navy, the church, and her male relations, which was risque.

Maybe she didn't have a serious problem with the church or the taboo against premarital sex; but her instinct is to mock. Edmund sort of defends her by saying her mind isn't evil, but her words are. Mary doesn't examine her actions, but relies on what fashionable society has taught her to think. This inability to use her sharp intellect to examine her own mind is what stunts her love life, and therefore her destiny. When I heard one of my favorite satirical songs about wealth, fame, and society's flashy ideas of success the other day, it reminded me of Mary Crawford:

 "I don't know what's right and what's real anymore. I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore."

 In The Madwoman in the Attic, Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar argue that Mary is an example of a woman trying to use her creativity to live life on her terms, and is punished by the patriarchy for her attempt. I don't have my own grasp on their take on Austen, though I'm sure it is very intelligent and well-thought out. Some of their interpretations of Austen's heroines are troubling to me, but I need to think more about it. But right off the bat, I don't agree that Mary's flaw is her inability to be passive; I think it's her insincerity.

And that about MP really surprised me: when the Crawfords appeared to be changing for the better, it turned out they were only faking it. They were playing a part, and Austen had been showing us throughout the entire novel how adept they were at acting and seducing. Really, we had no reason to expect anything better from them, except for our own hopefulness and the way we've been indoctrinated that characters can undergo a miraculous transformation from rakes to upright citizens.

And Fanny saw this, and stuck to her guns. She could call a spade a spade, and even when I expected her to accept the Crawford Charm in the end, she never did. She held out for her ideal and was rewarded in the end. She didn't give into the pressure from the patriarchy or even the awareness of her own unstable situation. That's pretty strong.

MP was harsher than I expected, and I appreciated it more for that.