How’s it going, Mansfield people?
I know Mansfield is a lot of people’s least favorite Austen novel, but you guys…I’m really enjoying it (albeit slowly). Yes, Fanny’s a wimp and Edmund is the wettest blanket of all time, but the black (or, okay, dove-gray) comedy of it all is plenty to keep me entertained and reading on. Just as importantly, my mother is reading along—she’s more or less new to Janely things—and is totally into it.
Thoughts on this section:
– Oh, you guys, leave it to Jane to add into the mix that most hilarious and recognizable character: the Theater Guy. Oh, Mr. Yates! You don’t want to intrude; it’s just that some old chick was rude enough to die right in the middle of your rehearsal schedule, so it’s just as well that you found a new group of friends to help you recreate the diverse and exciting world of Glee. You want to be in a play so badly. This is probably so that you can hang around backstage with a headset mike and your hand in the back pocket of your production girlfriend’s/boyfriend’s jeans while the popular kids belt out “Seasons of Love” onstage, and then go out for pizza and probably some underage drinking. Or…so I hear.
– Ugh, Edmund. FINE. You don’t want to be in a play. You’re afraid of the “warm” bits (…hee). Is “The only thing worse than being in your stupid play is having that weird neighbor kid be in your stupid play in my house, so hand over that script” so hard to get out?
(Okay, I know. Different times, theater as place of scandal!, protector of reputation, etc. But really: You must chill. YOU MUST CHILL.)
– I continue my…not love affair with, exactly, so much as deep enjoyment of, Mr. Rushworth. Do we think he could marry his pink satin cloak? I’m pretty sure it would like him more than his fiancee does.
– So, Mrs. Norris’s outburst: is it, or is it not, the climax of Book I? What a revealing moment—of course she considers herself superior to Fanny, but somehow the public announcement makes things a thousand percent worse for everybody, involved or not. It’s just such a turn for the sinister, even if the behavior behind it is the same as it’s always been. But where does this put us with Mary Crawford? Do we love her? Do we hate her? You’re a fickle mistress, Jane.
Next week: same bat time, same bat channel, chapters 17-21. Maybe more.
What do you think, readers?
austenacious 
As much as I dislike the book, I do have to agree on the black/cynical humor of so much of it, especially among the younger set of characters. As painful as it is sometimes to read, if you can look past the meanness of it all, some it is quite funny. Maybe Jane was just in a really bad mood and totally disenchanted with the world while writing Manfield.
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I know, I find it helps to envision Jonny Lee Miller (and not Blake Ritson who I always see as that creepy Mr. Elton). Other than that, I have a tough time reading this one too.
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I’m kinda enjoying watching Edmund squirm so much! “I hate the play, but I must participate because it would be wrong to let miss Crawford sleep in the bed she made…” Sucker!
Do we like Miss Crawford? Sure… For the moment. We can always change our minds. 😉
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