It was superbly excellent. As a devoted fan of Pride and Prejudice (I've read it at least three times), I never thought that I would encounter another Austen novel that reached similar literary heights. However, Mansfield Park was an absolute delight from beginning to end.
Like all of her novels, it contains a superb level of character development and insight into human nature - embodying a Truth about people that other novels seem to have difficulty capturing. All of the characters are frustratingly blind to their own faults and the concealment of each other's natures that the omniscient and personable narrator clues the audience into in such a way as to make the novel seem as fresh and realistic as if it was written yesterday and not over two hundred years ago.
Edmund's blind affection for Mary Crawford is founded upon a mix of her superficial charms and his own imagined character he perceives her to possess. How many times have we (or someone we know) based an infatuation (believing it to be the purest love) on someone without knowing all of their character? Imagining their virtues, ignoring their vices, and being beguiled by the most superficial of traits and charms?
While Henry Crawford's failed pursuit of Fanny is another story that is familiar to everyone. A former "playa", who is an unforgivable flirt and charmer, who suddenly decides he wants to settle down with a woman of worth. However, Fanny's refusal of Henry's charms is refreshing in comparison to today's dramas, in which the heroine is often seduced into accepting them despite his past, or believes he has changed for the better with flowery words. Instead, Fanny continues to refuse him on the principle that her temperament is so opposed to his that she believes they would never make each other happy. She thinks that he is merely flirting with her like he has before with at least fifty other women and that he is too inconsistent to believe his love for her is anything more than a passing fancy.
And who doesn't know a Sir Thomas in their lives, a well-meaning parent whose upright conduct fails to inspire the same in his children? Or a Mrs. Norris, an overindulgent aunt who spoils her nieces, but at the same time has a keen sense of fiscal self-preservation and an overestimation of her own opinion and worth? Or even the sibling rivalry of Maria and Julia Bertram, who encourage each others' follies and unrestrained passions out of jealousy?
All of these things make Mansfield Park one of Austen's most captivating novels, but perhaps above all of that (for me) is how unashamedly Burkian the entire novel is. The characters who show virtue are clearly defined as constant, with unchanging moral principles (founded in religion) that they follow unfailingly, and are submissive to the proper authorities. Edmund submits to his father's wishes, while Fanny submits to Edmund's (and indeed, to most of her relatives like Sir Thomas and Aunt Bertram). Meanwhile, the characters who are driven by unrestrained passion, with disregard for any type of religious principles or proper order and submission (both within the family structure and in societal regulations), who are eager for youthful change (with disregard to previous traditions and heritage passed down from their parents/elders) are painted as the characters of vice with unhappy endings. Mary Crawford loses Edmund's steadfast affection, Maria is disgraced from society and lives in isolation with Mrs. Norris, and Henry Crawford loses any chance he had at true domestic happiness with Fanny.
In a similar vein, to have Fanny be the protagonist of the story only underscores this theme of the virtues found in proper order and submission since she embodies them. As the introduction to my copy of Mansfield Park reads:
Mary Crawford is, or so it seems, the very model of a Jane Austen heroine. Spirited, warm-hearted, and, above all else, witty, she displays all the familiar Austen virtues, and she stands in need of the familiar Austen lessons as well. Like Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of Pride and Prejudice (1813), she banters archly with the man she is falling in love with, and, like Elizabeth, she must learn to set aside her preconceptions in order to recognize that love. Like Emma Woodhouse, the heroine of Emma (1816), she speaks more brilliantly and speculates more dazzlingly than anyone around her, and, like Emma, she must learn to rein in the wit that tempts her at times to impropriety. But Mary Crawford is not the heroine of Mansfield Park (1814) -- Fanny Price is, and therein lies the novel's great surprise. For Fanny differs not merely from Mary, but also from our most basic expectations of what a novel's protagonist should do and be. In Fanny, we have a heroine who seldom moves and seldom speaks, and never errs or alters.A most succinct introduction, the characterisation of Fanny is true. She rarely moves (she tires quickly, faints easily, and cries about her own feelings - or for others - for at least half of the novel), she is extremely quiet unless addressed first (never willingly offering her own astute observations of all the characters around her), and her own character undergoes the least amount of "development" (she is always "sweet, kind, patient" Fanny, who possesses a superior mentality and character, from the beginning of the novel to the end). In many ways, to our modern expectations of a heroine, she would be the least likely choice. However, instead of being uninteresting, it is Fanny who is continually fascinating. She teaches everyone else (including the audience) a lesson in propriety, self-restraint, submission, and patience.
The concept of Christian submission is one that has been addressed many times throughout history. Misconstruing and misinterpreting the meaning of the virtue has been all too common over the centuries, but in short, it cannot be denied that women are particularly called to submit - as wives to their husbands and as followers of Christ to Him. And Fanny embodies this type of Christian submission. She bends to the will and wishes of her family (and particularly of Edmund), not because of weakness or oppression. Rather, she does so out of love and gratitude for them. She dearly loves her family and is grateful to them for raising her out of her impoverished home in Portsmouth. She understands the proper order of the household and society (she is to submit to her husband [who is eventually Edmund], to the head of her household [Sir Thomas], and to the expectations of her family's social status in society). One can't help but draw the parallels between her situation and that of ours in Christ. Submission to Him is done out of love and gratitude for what He has done for us (offering us salvation from death). It is never done because of oppression, (indeed, Christian submission is based on the exact opposite) but out of love.
Additionally, Fanny's submission to her family is done out of trust. She trusts the decisions of her uncle and of Edmund (even when they are concealed to the true natures of other characters like Maria and Mary, unlike herself), to be the correct ones made by good men. She believes that they have the best interests of her and their family in mind, and respects their positions as heads of the house. Her submission is reciprocated appropriately as well. Edmund and Sir Thomas love Fanny, and both want to protect and guide her to the best of their abilities. Thus, her submission is rewarded by their unfailing, selfless love for her - they give her a sense of belonging, protection, guidance, and self-sacrifice that her submission inspires and is inspired by. Likewise, the Bible calls for husbands to love their wives as Christ loves the Chruch - whole-heartedly, without reserve, to nurture and cherish forever.
However, aside from Mansfield Park essentially embodying Christian virtue of submission, the other main intrigue for me in the novel was the love-square between Edmund Bertram, Mary Crawford, Fanny Price, and Henry Crawford.
In my opinion, Edmund and Mary's love story feels unequal from the beginning. He is passionately in love with a woman that doesn't exist. Her beauty and wit blind him from seeing what Fanny so clearly does - a lack of character regarding propriety and virtue. Mary is more concerned with gaiety, social standing, and money than Edmund. She repeatedly says she doesn't wish to marry a clergyman, (Edmund's own profession), and that she does not value the same things as Edmund (indeed, she is unable to properly censure her own brother's impropriety of running away with Edmund's married sister). By far his character, although maybe too serious at times, is by far the better of the two. He is an upstanding, honest man who values a hard day's work and solid religious principles. He hopes to have a wife to share his duties with, and in return wants someone he can respect as a life partner. It is only by the end of the novel, when Mary loses Edmund's regard, that she begins to see the type of man she has lost with her reckless attitude and inability to set aside her desire for money and status. And, unfortunately for her, she realises she did love him only after all of this has come to pass.
Meanwhile, as far as Edmund and Fanny's love story goes, it is by far the one I wish was given more time to develop. Her love for him is well established in the novel, as she has loved him since she was a little girl. His influence on her mind and upbringing makes it almost impossible for her not to have fallen in love with him, as she had been "formed" (in a sense) for and by Edmund himself. Her temperament is also seen to be completely compatible with his. They both value the same things in life (constancy, religious principles, a quiet life in the country, respect for family, etc.) and match the others' needs perfectly (she is in need of a protector who values her opinion and he is in need of a kind, quiet soul to support him in his work). However, his regard for her seems almost like a rebound, since it is not until the last three pages of the novel that his affection turns to Fanny as they are both disappointed by the Crawfords (in different ways), and as such their previous affections are transferred to each other. Although some readers might view this as a "second best" alternative, in reality, I think it comments on the fact that infatuation and passion are different from true domestic happiness.
What I like about this book is how it discusses the idea of constancy in love. It mentions how characters "love" one another repeatedly, but the devotion of characters to each other is constantly called into question (most obviously with Henry and Fanny's story). In fact, despite reiterating that such passions exist, the narrator does not deny that "unchanging attachments" can still be changed. Infatuation with another is not enough for a lasting relationship (it is quite different from a constant love which grows into devotion and steadfastness over the years). And indeed broken hearts do mend with time (Edmund is quite young - in his early twenties, while Fanny is only eighteen). I think that this is yet another Truth that Austen has a distinct knack for expressing.
Not to mention the fact that there are hints throughout the novel expressing Edmund's true sentiments. Fanny is consistently referred to as one of the two people dearest to his heart (the other, of course, being Mary), and even in the midst of his infatuation with Mary, Edmund consistently recognizes Fanny's moral and mental superiority (he constantly compares Mary's imagined character to that of Fanny's real character). He also seeks Fanny's opinion over and over again regarding his feelings towards Mary and trusts her more than anyone else in the novel. In fact, he is also uniquely qualified to understand how to win her love - through constancy rather than novelty. In fact, he even advises Henry in this undertaking, and after Henry conforms accordingly, Fanny's opinion of his slowly begins to change (although he is unable to keep her lukewarm opinion of him for long). So if there is one fault, it is that Fanny doesn't express her insightful observations about the other characters enough. So the love story between the two does, in fact, make sense, and it is entirely appropriate to the tone of the novel. It is one filled with subtle devotion rather than blazing passion, and the nuances of it as such make the sincerity of their romance a novelty in today's blisteringly passionate love affairs.
And finally, I go back and forth on Henry and Fanny's love story, in turns wishing it had succeeded and at other times happy it failed. Some of the characters (including Edmund) give fairly good reasoning for why it might work. Henry is a wealthy man of standing, and marrying Fanny would be well below his status. His character, despite the fact it is so different from Fanny's, may be complimented rather than clashing, as Edmund stated:
...there is a decided difference in your tempers, I allow. He is lively, you are serious; but so much the better; his spirits wil lsupport yours. It is your disposition to be easily dejected, and to fancy difficulties greater than they are. His cheerfulness will counteract this. He sees dificulties nowhere; and his pleasatness and gaiety will be a constant support to you. Your being so far unlike, Fanny, does not in the smallest degree make agaisnt the probablity your happiness together: do not imagine it.Although, as Fanny observes, Edmund's impassioned speech may be more inspired by his own belief in his relationship with Mary rather than Fanny's with Henry. Despite this, however, the narrator does note at the end of the novel that if Henry had just persevered more with Fanny, then he would've won her love in the end. As such his determination to woo her throughout the second part of the book (despite being originally inspired to make her fall in love with him after two weeks on a whim), was actually beginning to make Fanny think he truly loved her rather than a mere "common affection". His love for her was both rational and passionate, and after Edmund had married Mary (if Mary had understood her true love for Edmund in time and reconciled her habits appropriately), Fanny would have eventually married Henry happily.
Yet at the same time, throughout the majority of the novel Fanny's feelings towards Henry never truly waver. She rejects his proposals multiple times and repeatedly asks him never to speak of them again. Yet he constantly ignores her feelings on the subject for his own and is unable to understand that "no means no" as he believes her rejection from him comes from not understanding her own mind due to the shock of his proposal. The only hint that her feelings have changed from dislike to "tolerance" is when he later realises that he must prove himself steadfast, and becomes determined to wear her down with acts of devotion. As a result, Fanny begins to think that his affection for her may actually be love until he ruins his chance at domestic happiness by running away with Maria.
Thus, although this love story definitely doesn't fit the tone (and theme) of the novel, I can't help but be the most intrigued by it. Perhaps it is because I am a "modern woman" who wants to see the passionate element of the love story as well as the rational, (as Edmund and Fanny's is definitely not the modern day idea of passionate). I wish for the "might have been" for Henry, despite the fact that it would mean Fanny would lose her life-long love, because it would've been a major positive character development for him.
Not to mention that I am one who fully subscribes to the idea that "opposites attract" (which is a common theme in almost every romance plot today). But also because in modern romances, the idea that opposites improve each other is a common trope. The idea that Henry wanted to change because of (and for) Fanny is greatly appealing to audiences. You can see this type of action in most romance stories today. However, I think Austen's version is more "true to form". Despite his love for Fanny, Henry's character had been, as the novel describes, "...ruined by early independence and bad domestic example, indulged in the freaks of a cold-blooded vanity a little too long....Curiosity and vanity were both engaged, and the temptation of immediate pleasure was too strong for a mind unused to make any sacrifice to right..." Once again, underscoring the theme of constancy and the fact that "some people never change" (even when they want to). The fact that opposites may balance each other out simply fails in comparison to the unfailing similarity of deeper values that Edmund and Fanny share with each other.
So all in all I highly recommend this book. If you're a fan of Austen, you want to see an excellent example of Christian morals in novel form, or want to read a love story that consistently demonstrates its relevance, you should definitely check this one out. 5/5.
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