Pride and Prejudice Theme Analysis: Love

Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice tells a frothy tale of gowns and parties, gossip and confidantes, distaste and love, and, of course, pride and prejudice. One of the major themes that Austen brings up in this surprisingly deep work is that of the importance of love. It is held up above practicality, social etiquette, even familial ties, and shown to be the source of utmost happiness and success. For those who love, who follow their heart recklessly, a happy ending awaits. Take the protagonist, for example. The lovely, spunky, sparkling Elizabeth Bennet refuses two marriage proposals throughout the course of the novel (a shocking and distasteful action for any young lady presented with a practical offer of marriage in that day) because she does not love the men. The marriages are as practical as could be, the proposed union with Mr. Collins providing a secure home and social status for not only Elizabeth but also for her family, and the first, denied offer by Mr. Darcy offering extreme affluence and status. However, Elizabeth recognizes that Collins “could not make [her] happy” and that she is the “last woman in the world who would make [him] so” (93). She claims that she is a “rational creature,” but also that she speaks the “truth from [her] heart” when she rejects him. She is guided by romance, feeling, happiness, and emotion, a stark contrast to her dear friend Charlotte, who marries that same ridiculous Collins, with the reason that marriage “was the only honorable provision for well-educated women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservation from want” (107). Charlotte’s marriage is looked down upon by Elizabeth and, by extension, Austen (and, most likely, the reader, since the reader tends to sympathize with Elizabeth), hinting at a distaste for the pure practicality of many marriages. In contrast, Elizabeth gets a fairy-tale ending, surrounded by those that she loves, far from those she does not, fabulously wealthy, and completely happy. Her marriage is a union of practicality and emotion, the ideal marriage, a victory which proves Austen believed wholeheartedly that those who follow their hearts will achieve their merry end. Regarding the idea that love is placed over social etiquette, Darcy’s marriage to Elizabeth was less than prudent on his part, but he did it for love. Elizabeth’s denial of Collins was entirely socially unacceptable, but she did it for the sake of love. Darcy and Elizabeth’s interactions were entirely awkward and often imprudent, but they acted in their foolish ways because of love (or lack thereof). Furthermore, love is placed above familial ties when Bingley and Jane wed against his sister’s wishes, Darcy weds against his aunt’s wishes, and in spite of Elizabeth’s lackluster family, and Lydia abandons her family for “love” (perhaps not the best support for my argument, since her love was questionable to say the least). I’ll just go ahead and embrace the cliché: Pride and Prejudice claims that love conquers all, and also reveals that it is of utmost importance.

The ideal reader should take this theme to heart, closing the book after reading the last page with a smile on their face and a flutter of hope in their heart for their romantic future. The book champions the idea that love will succeed, even if it falls flat on its face a few times before it even begins the race. Every reader wants a romance like Jane or Elizabeth’s, where the players are attractive and wealthy, amiable and intelligent, and, above all, in deep, head-over-heels love. They overcome troubles, they help each other overcome their own issues, they end up happily married—what isn’t to like? Essentially, the ideal reader should view Jane Austen’s hopeful view of love as an inspiration and an encouragement to encourage the same in their own life. (Ironically, Austen did just this and ended up a spinster. Perhaps we should take her advice with a grain of salt.) Furthermore, it should encourage freedom from social etiquette and the standards we are held to by our peers, from and undesirable ties to others that may inhibit our happiness, and freedom from mundane practicality. At least, this is the way that Austen would have it. As I mentioned earlier (albeit sarcastically), we shouldn’t take this advice in its entirety without some speculation. Reading Pride and Prejudice and deciding to live one’s life just as the characters do in order to achieve the same happy end is equivalent to watching Cinderella and expecting the same fairy tale ending. The tale is just that, a tale. The fact that this is fiction, and not a true-to-life account, means that Austen isn’t necessarily speaking the truth, she is just conveying how she wishes life was. Thus, the “universal reader” should read this text and take away a glimmer of optimism, all the while with the understanding that this isn’t reality, it’s a romance.

Personally, I agree with Jane on this one. I like to believe that I live my life free from societal norms, seeking out happiness and love around every corner and above practicality. It reminds me of the conflict that all people go through when determining the path their future will take: should I choose a job based on the money it will bring in or how happy I will be in it? Honestly, I want to be the person who decides to choose happiness over money. I do understand that affluence can bring a measure of happiness, in the sense that it opens doors for adventure and provides connections, as well as simply makes life easier, but I can’t imagine living out my life going to a job every day that I didn’t love with all my heart and that didn’t make me happy. So, I want to choose love and happiness over practicality, because I believe that love does conquer all, and that it is the best source of joy and fulfillment in this world. Furthermore, on a Christian note, I know that God will provide for me, and thus I need not worry about the material things. As a child of God, my life is about the spiritual and emotional side of things entirely. Okay, I’ve gotten away from myself a bit. I do understand that Jane Austen is talking about interpersonal love, not love for an occupation. But, since marriage was a woman’s job, so to speak, I would want to find love in that “job” if I lived in those days as well.

Creative Writing--Symbolism

Telephone

She begged and pleaded,
Beseeched and coddled,
stomped and pouted,
and then one day, mom ceded.

A new phone,
Peel off the plastic,
A picture of her dog as the background.

Week one: Freedom.
The mall, the park, the ice cream store.
Independence.
But check in with mom when you get there,
and on your way home.

After 2 weeks,
Her phone was sparkled
Bedazzled with gems,
Little hearts desperate to reflect the backlight.
Notice me!
But they are all the same colored plastic.
Teen Hearthrob replaces the puppy,
A colored hoodie and dark blue jeans the soccer shorts and t-shirt.

Her music,
Internet,
Social life,
GPS,
Photographs,
In one neat package, closed with a flip.
How did she live without it?

At the mall, she sits at a table, 3 friends in chairs.
Jeans alike, jackets alike, puffy boots alike,
Expressions of smug boredom alike.
Mom walks in to pick her up,
Which one is she?
She has to call and ask.

City vs. Country--Psychological Lens

Death of a Salesman is laden with conflict--father vs. son, man vs. woman, man vs. the business world, man vs. his past, etcetera. All of these affect the characters' psyches, but one of the biggest influences is the conflict between city and country life. Within the first minutes of the play, Willy asks Linda to open the windows, and when she informs him that they are, in fact, open, he rants "The way they boxed us in here. Bricks and windows, windows and bricks" (26). The mentality that the city is oppressing, stifling, even suffocating the characters permeates the entire book. The entire play feels trapped, as if the audience is being sucked helplessly in to the black hole of lies, failed dreams, and unrealistic expectations that characterize the Loman family, only to be freed when Willy is freed by his death.

In the city, life is driven by success, which translates to money and the approval of others. When discussing the path his life has taken, Happy blatantly states "It's what I always wanted. My own apartment, a car, and plenty of women" (31). However, before this self-affirming statement comes a monologue of doubt and exasperation--his life consists of constant ladder-climbing, never to be able to enjoy his present situation because he is perpetually looking forward, upward, and just out of reach. As the old adage goes, "the grass is always greener on the other side"--a mentality that can only lead to discontentment. Ironically, Happy will never be happy, simply because he will never stop attempting to reach that next promotion or that other, prettier girl. But isn't that the way of the city? You never reach the top, and if you do it's only to be overtaken by another, more successful, ambitious, lucky contender? Both Happy and Willy take similar approaches to their business-rooted discontentment. They lie. Willy conceals affairs, depression, even the fact that he isn't getting a paycheck in order to preserve the illusion of a perfect, happy family. Happy, similarly, lies about his job position (he's really just "one of the two assistants to the assistant" rather than the assistant manager, a lie he tells in order to keep his father happy and proud (124)), his love life (he promises, "I'm gonna get married, Mom. I wanted to tell you,"in order to keep his mother hopeful that a perfect family is on the way (70)), and even to the girls at the restaurant (when his father acts oddly, he claims "that's not my father. He's just a guy" (111)). Like a spider that has gotten caught his own web, both Willy and Happy have become entangled in their lies, and have nowhere to turn except for more deceit. They aren't hopeless--no, they continue to maintain a fervid hope that one day they will measure up to their own expectations. Rather, they are alone. Isolated by their deceit, only they can truly know themselves, if that. Relationships, even with their close family, are not between them and another person, but rather, the person they have created for themselves and another. They act out the scenes as the character they have created for themselves, but they lack the ability to step out of costume and into reality, because they are play-actors surrounded by genuine people. In fact, that inability to separate reality from fiction (or the past from the present) is at the root of Willy's hallucinations, and caused his eventual suicide--he couldn't live in the world any longer because he never knew how to live in the real world. In short, living in the city is portrayed in this play as an oppressive and constrictive lifestyle, and one that leads only to discontentment.

In contrast, the country is portrayed as this idealized, beautiful place, where people are free to live their own lives as their own selves, unbound by the social pressures of the city. Take the image of Willy driving home from Florida, where "the trees are so thick and the sun is warm," with the windshield down, letting the "warm air bathe over" him (24). Refreshing, calming, and beautiful, this depiction of a country drive is a sharp contrast to the depressing city. On a symbolic level, the windshield of the car represents the city, enclosing and entrapping. Once that gets out of the way, though, Willy is free to enjoy and experience life, symbolized by the trees, sun, and air. The largest contrast between city and country, however, comes in the form of Biff. He romanticizes the wild west, escaping there to find contentment and returning home only to feel that "all [he's] done is to waste his life" (31). He beseeches Happy to come out west with him, "buy a ranch, raise cattle, use [their] muscles," but Happy refuses, claiming that his contentment comes from his success and his women. However, Happy is quite obviously unhappy, discrediting the workaday lifestyle as a source of happiness. This provides credibility to Biff's claims that the west provides him with contentment. Interestingly enough, Biff is at peace when he is away from people and independent--yet another characteristic of a "country man." By living to please himself and rejecting the expectations of others, as Willy and Happy do in the city, Biff is able to come to grips with himself and his true personality. He understands that the city is not the place for him, saying to Happy, "men built like we are should be working out in the open" (31). Many people go to nature in order "find themselves," stopping and breathing in the fresh air and the beauty of nature on the beach, in the mountains, or really anywhere that is an escape from the pressures of work and day-to-day life. The country, nature, where a man can "be outdoors, with [his] shirt off," is where Biff finds individuality and contentment, away from the city and the pressures of his family, and where Willy escapes to in his mind when he realizes he can't escape the life he has built around himself in the city (30). Biff's honesty, when it comes to his actions, his future, his past, everything, is another huge contrast between the city and country mentalities. Because he lived on his own for so long, apart from his family or anyone else who held expectations for him, Biff is now able to separate himself from the web of lies that serve as home for the Loman family. He can see the truth of his own life, his inadequacies as well as his talents, and must tell the truth to his family to finally cut away the last strands of the web and be free. Essentially, the city is confinement and the country is freedom, and no matter how many seeds Willy plants in the city, attempting to salvage a little bit of country in both his physical and emotional "homes," it's "too late now"--nothing is going to grow (116).