Letters in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice offer a deeper look into the core of Austen’s characters, as the letters act as pseudo-diaries for each character, portraying events in a light which the narration cannot capture due to the lack of omniscience in the text. Through the use of comprehensive word clouds of each of the full letters sent between characters in the novel (excluding small notes), the character description in the narration of the novel and the actions of the characters can be juxtaposed with the main ideas and words of the characters’ letters. This demonstrates whether the characters’ consistent actions really portray who they are, or if something else lies beneath their surface.
Word clouds make the best representation of the characters because even single words are so powerful, both in secondary character development (narration) and direct character action (speaking or dialogue). In pulling only the key words and ideas from the letters each of the characters writes, the key aspects of that characters core come to the foreground. Using this tool, one can remove the unnecessary, superfluous fluff from the outside of the character profile, and dive into the deeper aspects of the character; in this case, the letters used to make word clouds are considered directly indicative of the character who writes them.
The first letter sent from one character to another is Mr. Collins’s letter to Mr. Bennet, announcing Collins’s impending visit to Longbourn. Textually, Collins appears to be a rather uptight and pompous man, unafraid of continuously and relentlessly milking his relationship with the great and most high Lady Catherine de Bourgh. In his letters, Mr. Collins essentially puts forth the same front (though possibly more pompous and cocky). Of the 371 words in Mr. Collins’s first letter, some of the most common are “duty,” “lady,” “clergyman,” and “Catherine.” Clearly, Collins’s main goal in this letter is to show off his newly acquired status – more than introduce himself to the family, he wants to introduce his position, and though he’ll take over the Bennet estate when Lizzie’s father dies, Collins wants to give the impression that he cares whether the girls get any share in the estate after their father dies. Collins’s second letter (again to Mr. Bennet) doesn’t delve any deeper into his character – obviously a very shallow one at that. The 349-word letter features the words “dear” and “daughter” among the most common, with “Catherine” and “Collins” (in reference to his wife) also on the list. Once again, Collins has demonstrated through his letter that the pompous outside continues on to the inside as well. This time, Collins’s focus leans towards the new acquisition of his wife, and the loss the Bennet daughters have experienced following Elizabeth’s rejection of Collins’s proposal as well as the heinous grievance endured due to Lydia’s indiscretion. Collins becomes extremely patronizing, as the words “dear” and “sir” would suggest. Evidently, not only does Collins represent the single most shallow yet regularly featured character in his dialogue, his letters do little but to reaffirm his completely static character. In this case, the letters tell us what we would have already known.
Mr. Edward Gardiner, the Bennet girls’ uncle, writes letters that give new light to his character. Though we don’t see very much of Mr. Gardiner, this letter helps us to understand a soft spoken character with relatively little page-time. In the text, Mr. Gardiner seems to be a fairly nice man, without much to say or any outstanding character motivations. His letter tells a slightly different story. Mr. Gardiner seems to be a very family-oriented person, committed to making sure everyone in his family is informed as to the current situation, and safe in any and all situations which he can exact control over. All of the most common words in his letter (“niece,” “hope,” “send,” “married,” “particulars”) have to do with the specifics of Lydia’s situation – he wants the family to know exactly what the situation is even though none of them can be there. The same is true for Mr. Gardiner’s second letter. Once again, Mr. Gardiner’s rather introverted character is brought to light. Mr. Gardiner’s demonstrates that his greatest concern is ensuring that although Lydia may not have married into the best situation, she will still have the best possible life. This includes Mr. Gardiner doing everything he can to ensure that Wickham’s credit is clean, as the major words, such as “assurances,” “hope,” and “creditors” would suggest. In this instance, Austen does not as much contradict the character’s presence in dialogue and action as much as actually give the character a personality. Austen’s reluctance to really drastically change anything from the character to the letter demonstrates that keeping the family seem as stable (or, from another view, completely unstable) as possible. Something must remain constant amid the change surrounding Lizzy’s life.
Obviously, Lydia does not have the same consciousness for others that her sisters have; her letter mostly revolves around Lydia and what Lydia has done, is doing, and is feeling, and how she thinks everyone else will react to her situation. This is most likely a result of how her mother brought her up – to think of marriage and nothing else. In her second letter, Lydia once again demonstrates her selfishness isn’t purely a surface matter, but a deep characteristic of her most basic form. Even when her older sister is about to me married, Lydia’s letter focuses more on her own life and husband than congratulations for her dear sister. Where Collins’s letters build a breadth of pompousness, Lydia’s do the opposite – reveal the depth of her narcissism. Again, Austen writes the core characters with a measure of consistency; nothing truly surprising comes to light. However, it is important to note that some people really dislike this consistency in Austen’s work. For example, Ralph Waldo Emerson thought that her work was “sterile in artistic vision.” Clearly, the consistency in characters and plot didn’t please everyone (7 People).
Mr. Bennet sends one letter of which Austen reveals any of the text, and in its entirety has 46 words, and approximately one crap-ton (equivalent to 16 bucket loads) of sass. This letter sums up Mr. Bennet to a tee. He doesn’t mess around, he likes to be simple and quick, and if he can throw in a little sarcasm and sass somewhere, it’s all for the better. Truly, Mr. Bennet’s transparency stands as one of the most undeniable truths of the novel. In this case, Austen stays completely true to the character as portrayed in social interaction in the novel. Mr. Bennet doesn’t deal with anyone else’s baggage.
This letter, from Jane to Lizzy, very clearly illustrates the depth of feeling which characterizes Jane. The major words in her letter have to do with a feeling of anxiety, and are often related to her being the older sister, and feeling a measure of responsibility for her family’s and her own situation. She often tries to explain away others’ actions, and see the best in any given situation. None of the major words in any of Jane’s letters have anything to do with how Jane herself fares, but pertain to other people in the family. Jane’s letters have everything to do with Jane ensuring that everyone else has what they need. Jane generally forgoes telling Lizzy how she (Jane) is, and instead makes sure Lizzy is fully up to speed on recent events, as opposed to Jane venting her feelings to Lizzy. Everything revolves around everyone else for Jane, nothing revolves around Jane herself. As compared to Jane in the text, this actually is a little reversed. In speech, Jane is slightly more willing to talk to Elizabeth about her feelings in certain situations, although she almost never will with anyone else. However, during actual conversation Jane also spends a lot more time finding out about Lizzy’s feelings. Austen most likely spends more time worrying about Lizzy in Jane’s letters because in an actual conversation, Jane would spend much more time talking about Lizzy than herself.
Mrs. Gardiner often speaks up more than Mr. Gardiner, and for the most part seems to be a very caring aunt – possibly the one adult female role model in Jane and Lizzy’s lives who cares for their feelings rather than their being married. Her letter surely confirms that her personality in her small words and actions is indeed true. Though Mrs. Gardiner was not supposed to tell of the events that transpired around the time of Lydia’s marriage, she tells Lizzy anyway, just because Mrs. Gardiner knows that Lizzy is extremely eager to know the details, and just how much her family owes Mr. Darcy. In text, this is also the case. Once again, Austen goes out of the way to demonstrate that nothing has ever truly shaken Lizzy’s life up. Though dysfunctional, her family is constant, which makes the events of the novel that much more extreme. This idea is one of the many beauties of the novel, as Sir Walter Scott wrote in his journal about Austen’s work, “That young lady had a talent for describing the involvement and feelings and characters of ordinary life which is to me the most wonderful I ever met with” (Jane Austen’s Art). The absolute normality of the characters and the novel is what makes Austen’s storytelling so fantastic.
Of all the letters written in the novel, Darcy’s is the only one which demonstrates a major shift in character. Darcy realizes that one of Lizzie’s biggest issues with him lies in the supposed mistreatment of Wickham, so the letter focuses on that particular problem. Darcy himself places a large emphasis on family, though not necessarily seen in his actions, as can be interpreted from the fact that several of the most common words are those relating to family. As such, Darcy would do anything for his family, and anything for his love’s family to keep their standing. Before this moment, Darcy always seems to be haughty and above everyone else. His letter shows that he really wants to explain himself, he wants Lizzy to understand everything behind his motivation and love, and he can’t do that in a conversation. Through all of the consistency in the rest of the letters, this letter and its asymmetry mirror the source of the inconsistency in Lizzy’s life – Darcy himself.
Lizzy generally doesn’t send letters in this book, as her thoughts and feelings are most intimately known through Austen’s commentary. However, Lizzy’s letter sheds an interesting light on her character. Lizzy seems to be one of the most down to earth characters, and yet her major word is “world.” Perhaps she is, in fact, more of a dreamer than we might initially think, and really all she wants is her world to be a dream one. She really feels that she has the best life in the world, after she marries Darcy. As a direct compliment to Darcy’s letter, Lizzy’s shows not how her personality is different in the letter than in her commentary, but how her personality has changed since the beginning of the novel. Of all the letters, this proves to be the most revealing. From the beginning of the novel to Lizzy’s letter at the end, Lizzy develops from a hyper-realistic and cynical person to someone with the capacity to have a hyper-active sense of superlatives. If anything qualifies as fantastic, that had better. Austen uses a few characters with little variation in personality to supplement one girl’s transformation from realistic to less realistic, and people all over the world love her book. What else qualifies as success?
Through the use of letters in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and an analysis by way of word cloud, it can be determined that Austen’s novel does not have a cut-and-dry rule for how letters represent their writers. One thing, however, is definite: those characters who do write letters (with the exception of Darcy) find themselves accurately represented within those letters. Very little core differentiation occurs. Literarily, this represents the consistency in Lizzy’s life gained from her family members, and the resulting instability which entered her life at the same time as Darcy. Darcy changed Elizabeth’s life.
Works Cited
"7 People Who Hated Pride and Prejudice." Mental Floss. N.p., 3 Jan. 2013. Web. 16 Dec. 2013. <http://mentalfloss.com/article/32099/7-people-who-hated-pride-and-prejudice>.
Austen, Jane, and Donald J. Gray. Pride and Prejudice. New York: W.W. Norton, 1993. Print.
"Jane Austen's Art and Her Literary Reputation." Jane Austen's Art and Her Literary Reputation. N.p., n.d. Web. 16 Dec. 2013. <http://www.pemberley.com/janeinfo/janeart.html>.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Letters and Word Clouds in Pride and Prejudice
Clearly, Collins’s main goal in this letter is to show off his newly acquired status – more than introduce himself to the family, he wants to introduce his position to the family, and though he’ll take over the Bennet estate when Lizzie’s father dies, Collins wants to give the daughters a chance to atone for the terrible misfortune of the Bennets’ not having a son.
This letter, from Jane to Lizzy, very clearly illustrates the depth of feeling which characterizes Jane. The major words in her letter have to do with a feeling of anxiety, and are often related to her being the older sister, and feeling a measure of responsibility for her family’s and her own situation. She often tries to explain away others’ actions, and see the best in any given situation.
Darcy realizes that one of Lizzie’s biggest issues with him lies in the supposed mistreatment of Wickham, so the letter focuses on that particular problem. Darcy himself places a large emphasis on family, though not necessarily seen in his actions, as can be interpreted from the fact that several of the most common words are those relating to family. As such, Darcy would do anything for his family, and anything for his love’s family to keep their standing.
This letter particularly expresses Jane’s devotion to her family, and their issues, as opposed to just her own feelings in any matter. Notice how none of the major words have anything to do with how Jane herself is faring in light of this matter, but most pertain to other people in the family, or the situation as a whole.
Once again, this sequence of letters has much to do with Jane ensuring that everyone else has what they need, and knows everything going on. Jane once again forgoes telling Lizzy how she (Jane) is, and instead makes sure Lizzy is fully up to speed on the goings-on of the last few days. Everything revolves around everything else for Jane, nothing revolves around Jane herself.
Obviously, Lydia does not have the same consciousness for others that her sisters have; the letter mostly revolves around Lydia and what Lydia has done, is doing, and is feeling, and how she thinks everyone else will react to her situation. This is most likely a result of how her mother brought her up – to think of marriage and nothing else.
Once again, Collins has demonstrated through his letter that the pompous outside continues on to the inside as well. This time, Collins’s focus leans towards the new acquisition of his wife, and the loss the Bennet daughters have experienced following Elizabeth’s rejection of Collins’s proposal. He becomes extremely patronizing, as the words “dear” and “sir” would suggest.
Though we don’t see very much of Mr. Gardiner, the Bennet girls’ uncle, this letter opens up a character who doesn’t say very much in common conversation. Mr. Gardiner seems to be a very family-oriented person, committed to making sure everyone in his family is informed as to the current situation, and safe in any situation which he can control.
Once again, Mr. Gardiner’s rather introverted character is brought to light through his letter to his brother. Mr. Gardiner’s greatest concern in this letter is ensuring that although Lydia may not have married into the best situation, she will have the best possible life out of that situation. This includes Mr. Gardiner doing everything he can to ensure that Wickham’s credit is clean, as the more major words, such as “assurances,” “hope,” and “creditors” would suggest.
Mrs. Gardiner often speaks up more than Mr. Gardiner, and for the most part seems to be a very caring aunt – possibly the one adult female role model in Jane and Lizzy’s lives who cares for their feelings rather than their being married. Her letter surely confirms that her personality in her small words and actions is indeed true. Though Mrs. Gardiner was not supposed to tell of the events that transpired around the time of Lydia’s marriage, she tells Lizzy anyway, just because Mrs. Gardiner knows that Lizzy is extremely eager to know the details, and just how much her family owes Mr. Darcy.
Lizzy generally doesn’t send letters in this book, as her thoughts and feelings are most intimately known through Austen’s commentary. However, this particular letter sheds an interesting light on her character. Lizzy seems to be one of the most down to earth characters, and yet her major word is “world.” Perhaps she is, in fact, more of a dreamer than we might initially think, and really all she wants is her world to be a dream one. She really feels that she has the best life in the world, after she marries Darcy.
This letter sums up Mr. Bennet to a tee. He doesn’t mess around, he likes to be simple and quick, and if he can throw in a little sass somewhere, it’s all for the better. Truly, Mr. Bennet’s transparency stands as one of the most undeniable truths of the novel.
Once again, Lydia demonstrates that her selfishness isn’t purely a surface matter, but a deep characteristic of her most basic form. Even when her older sister is about to me married, Lydia’s letter focuses more on her own life and husband than congratulations for her dear sister.
Friday, December 6, 2013
War-Torn Poet
More than just representing the physical pain of a soldier
wounded in battle, the poem “Disabled,” by Wilfred Owen, describes quite
accurately the mental and emotional pain one experiences after losing something
vitally important in one’s life.
The speaker describes the subject as having, “waiting for
dark, and shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,” using potent figurative
language through the use of the color words “dark” and “grey” to elucidate
something more than just the colors themselves (567). Black and grey often associate
themselves with emptiness, a lack of presence of one or more things. In this
case, the subject of the poem (a fallen soldier) lost not only his physical
might and ability, but also his mental awareness and desire. That the soldier
not only sees these colors, but in
fact waits for and wears them demonstrates his complete emptiness. Waiting for
the dark has become easier than simply looking into it; one might even say the
soldier welcomes the emptiness. The soldier has lost the desire to fight the
darkness he feels from losing his physical capabilities.
For soldiers with tour-ending injuries, I would submit that
often the hardest part of recovery is the mental one. Evidently, this soldier
signed on very young, just out of high school, and feels he lost his youth when
he was injured in the war. Because Wilfred Owen only lived 25 years, and the
poem is about a wounded soldier, and Owen himself was a soldier in the British
Army during WWI, it’s safe to assume that the subject of the poem is Owen
himself, and the poem deals with his depression and shell-shock following his
first tour in the Army. He feels that he lost his youth in the blood of war,
saying, “There was an artist silly for his face, for it was younger than his
youth, last year” (568). The alliterative sound of “younger than his youth last
year” emphasizes the fleeting youth Owen feels he had; at only 23 years of age
he was institutionalized for what we now call PTSD, and he quickly lost all the
illusions and dreams that often come with a youthful spirit. Though he hasn’t
been significantly physically broken, the war truly broke something fundamental
about Owen’s being, and sometimes it simply isn’t possible to recover from a
break that big.
With his broken spirit, I don’t think Owen ever really
recovered, or was able to tape together the salvageable pieces of himself after
his first few years of war. He says, “Tonight he noticed how the women’s eyes
passed from him to the strong men who were whole” (569). Now, clearly the poem
doesn’t refer to any major and lasting physical deficiency, as Owen wasn’t
permanently injured physically, but an important point on the topic of
psychological wellbeing and wholeness comes up. He feels as if even
psychological scars are evident and telling, and feels set apart from the other
men because of his mental scars. Because he
can very clearly see his injuries, Owen believes that others can as well. I
think he completely loses his will to do anything but meekly exist until
someone or something comes to take him away. He asks, “Why don’t they come and
put him into bed? Why don’t they come?” (569). I think this is extremely
indicative of the severity mental injuries can have on a person. Owen, when he
was injured, was completely capable of taking care of himself, but he was so
far gone mentally that he couldn’t really bring himself to complete even the
simplest task. In essence, I think the poem may be asking more about why
someone won’t come and put the soldier from the poem out of his misery, rather
than just “to bed.”
Overall, this poem brings up important questions about being
mentally broken, and how much it really takes to completely de-commission
someone just through psychological injuries. The human brain tends to be pretty
resilient, so for Owen to be so damaged that he essentially wrote a poem
describing his want for the pain to be all over, I think he really must have
had too many pieces to be able to tape them all together and come out looking
like a normal person ever again. I even wonder if maybe he wasn’t too upset
about dying – some think he sought out a position on the front lines in 1918 to
imitate one of his admired friends, but I think maybe he wanted something to
validate all that pain: either victory or death.
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