Oh! do not attack me with your watch
It was either that or "The clock upbraids me with the waste of time," but I happen to be rereading Mansfield Park (which is manifestly not on my fields list!). I'm enjoying it, but I feel guilty about it as well, because I should be doing/reading all sorts of things to prepare for classes. I've never taught before, though, so it's all an exercise in wringing my hands aimlessly and having no idea what to do. I'm only supposed to lead sections, so it's not as though I have lectures to prepare or anything, but short of rereading the texts on the syllabus, I don't really know what I should be doing. I'm just not in the mood to reread Chaucer, though; that "I have nothing to say about literature!" panic is a really annoying constant companion.
But anyway, Mansfield Park. It's probably my mindset, but I keep seeing (or imagining) parallels to Shakespeare. I read James Shapiro's 1599 this summer, and I was surprised by his off-topic condemnation of Twelfth Night at the end, so I found myself thinking about why Viola is not just a less exciting version of Rosalind. And while rereading MP, I found myself thinking about reasons that Fanny Price might be more than just a failure to measure up to heroines like Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse, so it occurred to me that perhaps Viola and Fanny have some similarities. They're not like the bright, witty characters who come before them (though Viola has her moments); instead they're both oddly suppressed by their circumstances, especially their loneliness. Beatrice has Hero, Rosalind has Celia; Elizabeth has Jane, and even Emma manages to fill the void left by the marriage of "poor Miss Taylor" by attaching herself to Harriet. But Viola spends the play being romantically pursued by the character who, based on previous patterns, ought to be her confidante, and Fanny Price only has Edmund, who starts drifting away from her and toward Mary Crawford fairly early in the novel. They're both adrift in their circumstances, and both fixated on brothers who are separated from them by the sea. (This all seems completely obvious and facile now. But I guess I'll let it stand.)
But perhaps I'm just taking my cue from Edmund Bertram: "His celebrated passages are quoted by everybody; they are in half the books we open, and we all talk Shakespeare, use his similes, and describe with his descriptions..." And I often find myself defending the characters no one else likes, anyway (Edmund Bertram among them). I also like Orlando, bad poetry and all, even though most of the critics I've read on AYLI seem to think he is a lovesick moron. So clearly there is nothing to be done with me.
And as much as I'm enjoying the novel, I'm beginning to think that rereading this particular Austen novel right now was a bad idea. Mansfield Park reminds me that I'm much too much like Fanny Price--my main goal in life has been to be as invisible as possible. Not exactly good circumstances for teaching.
But anyway, Mansfield Park. It's probably my mindset, but I keep seeing (or imagining) parallels to Shakespeare. I read James Shapiro's 1599 this summer, and I was surprised by his off-topic condemnation of Twelfth Night at the end, so I found myself thinking about why Viola is not just a less exciting version of Rosalind. And while rereading MP, I found myself thinking about reasons that Fanny Price might be more than just a failure to measure up to heroines like Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse, so it occurred to me that perhaps Viola and Fanny have some similarities. They're not like the bright, witty characters who come before them (though Viola has her moments); instead they're both oddly suppressed by their circumstances, especially their loneliness. Beatrice has Hero, Rosalind has Celia; Elizabeth has Jane, and even Emma manages to fill the void left by the marriage of "poor Miss Taylor" by attaching herself to Harriet. But Viola spends the play being romantically pursued by the character who, based on previous patterns, ought to be her confidante, and Fanny Price only has Edmund, who starts drifting away from her and toward Mary Crawford fairly early in the novel. They're both adrift in their circumstances, and both fixated on brothers who are separated from them by the sea. (This all seems completely obvious and facile now. But I guess I'll let it stand.)
But perhaps I'm just taking my cue from Edmund Bertram: "His celebrated passages are quoted by everybody; they are in half the books we open, and we all talk Shakespeare, use his similes, and describe with his descriptions..." And I often find myself defending the characters no one else likes, anyway (Edmund Bertram among them). I also like Orlando, bad poetry and all, even though most of the critics I've read on AYLI seem to think he is a lovesick moron. So clearly there is nothing to be done with me.
And as much as I'm enjoying the novel, I'm beginning to think that rereading this particular Austen novel right now was a bad idea. Mansfield Park reminds me that I'm much too much like Fanny Price--my main goal in life has been to be as invisible as possible. Not exactly good circumstances for teaching.