Learning to love Mansfield Park

Let’s talk about Fanny Price!!!

Jane Austen’s third published novel “Mansfield Park” is probably her least popular, least adapted work. It has a reputation for being her most difficult book. Even Jane Austen’s friends and family generally concluded that it wasn’t as good as “Pride and Prejudice.” Austen’s own mother called the novel’s heroine Fanny Price “insipid” — a label that’s stuck to the character to this day.

I ignored “Mansfield Park” for a long time myself. I read it once, in college I think, because I wanted to complete all of Austen’s works. But while I’ve reread Austen’s other novels many, many times, I never returned to “Mansfield Park.” Why? Honestly, it’s kind of a bummer! It doesn’t feel like an Austen novel — and by that I mean, it feels less charismatic than P&P or Emma. The plot is less propulsive than some of her other works. The themes are weighty and complex. And instead of the sparkling wit of Elizabeth Bennet, we get the meek, downtrodden Fanny Price.

So yeah, “Mansfield Park” doesn’t exactly top my list of comfort reads. But after my informal film survey last year exposed my own fuzzy memories of the book, I decided it was time to pick it up again. I ranked the 1999 film adaptation at the bottom of my list, convinced it had played fast and loose with the plot. Reader, I was at least partially wrong. The 1999 adaptation is truer to the plot than I realized (it still gets low marks for some clumsy anachronisms and bad costumes, though). I’m glad I was motivated to revisit the novel because I also realized that “Mansfield Park” is much juicier than I remembered.

If you’re unfamiliar, here are the basics: Fanny Price, at the tender age of 10 years old, is sent to live with her wealthy relations as a way to unburden her overwhelmed, financially insecure parents. And while her wealthy family, the Bertrams, congratulate themselves for taking in Fanny as a charity case, they are horrible to her. Fanny exists in a state of arrested development, unable to grow past the trauma of being ripped from her poor but loving family home and treated like a second-class citizen. Years pass, everyone grows up. The plot picks up when the Bertrams get up to all kinds of selfish, horny, rich people hijinks. Eventually, Fanny asserts herself and big consequences catch up to everyone else. Ultimately, Fanny is rewarded for her staying true to her moral compass.

(As an aside, one of my biggest pet peeves is when people complain that “nothing happens” in Austen novels. Excuse me, just because these fictional events take place in a drawing room and not on a battlefield or whatever doesn’t mean nothing happens. Also, do you realize how many of her plots hinge on literal sex scandals? Anyway, moving on …)

Thematically, “Mansfield Park” explores the meaning of home and family, and the damage wrought by a careless privileged class. And while it’s hard to love Fanny the way I love Elizabeth Bennet, that’s not really the point. Even though the novel ends in a marriage, I think Austen wrote “Mansfield Park” not as a romance but as a sprawling family drama laced with sharp social commentary. It’s often been interpreted (and criticized) as didactic, but I think Austen writes a lot more nuance and ambiguity into the novel than people give her credit for.

Notably, “Mansfield Park” is the only novel in which Austen directly acknowledges slavery. She includes details that signal — especially to her contemporary readers — that the Bertrams’ wealth comes primarily from a sugar plantation in Antigua. And in one scene, Austen includes this deeply ambiguous exchange between Fanny and her one nice cousin, Edmund:

“Oh! don’t talk so, don’t talk so,” cried Fanny, distressed by more feelings than he was aware of; but seeing that she was distressed, he had done with the subject, and only added more seriously—

“Your uncle is disposed to be pleased with you in every respect; and I only wish you would talk to him more. You are one of those who are too silent in the evening circle.”

“But I do talk to him more than I used. I am sure I do. Did not you hear me ask him about the slave-trade last night?”

“I did—and was in hopes the question would be followed up by others. It would have pleased your uncle to be inquired of farther.”

“And I longed to do it—but there was such a dead silence! And while my cousins were sitting by without speaking a word, or seeming at all interested in the subject, I did not like—I thought it would appear as if I wanted to set myself off at their expense, by shewing a curiosity and pleasure in his information which he must wish his own daughters to feel.”

What is up with that dead silence? Why is this scene delivered to us after the fact, in conversation with Edmund? And is it really about the slave trade, or about how much Fanny fears upsetting the social order of the household? Or both? I am convinced that Austen never includes a detail like this without intention. However, this indirectness is also very much Austen’s style, and it’s left lots of room for debate over the years about Austen’s stance on slavery.

Abolishment of the slave trade was a high-profile political debate in Austen’s time, one we can safely assume she was aware of. There’s even some decent evidence that she supported the abolitionist movement. But even if that’s true, the question remains: Does the text of “Mansfield Park” engage meaningfully with the issue? Does it challenge or uphold the status quo? Or does it do a little of both?

If you have time, it’s worth diving further into the historical and critical context. Wikipedia actually has a good overview, and this article on “Sir Thomas Bertram and the Slave Trade” goes even deeper into the history. But my number one reading rec is Brandon Taylor’s breakdown “mary crawford is a top.” I think he just nails his interpretation of the book, especially the character of Fanny and the book’s references to slavery. Also, Mary Crawford IS a top. IYKYK.

All that to say, I was VERY excited to discover that a contemporary writer had taken this particular Austen work as inspiration for her latest novel. I didn’t intend my setup for talking about “This Motherless Land” to be quite so long-winded, so I’m going to save that for part two. (I guess had a lot to process about “Mansfield Park” and if you’re still along for the ride, God bless.) I’ll note that you definitely don’t need to read “Mansfield Park” in order to enjoy “This Motherless Land.” But … maybe consider reading “Mansfield Park”???? It might surprise you.

Until next time, friends.