Perspective on "Pride & Prejudice"

Last night, in an attempt to shake off some of the gloominess of a really tough therapy session, I watched (for the umpteenth time) Joe Wright's "Pride & Prejudice." It was an interesting experience to watch it after having read Governess by Ruth Brandon. I still think the film is just sumptuous to watch, and it's the first time I really like Keira Knightley start to finish in a role. But all of the emphasis on finding husbands had a new urgency about it for me, understanding to much a finer degree how vital it was for a woman of the era either to get married or find herself literally out in the cold. These women had no safety net, no escape route, if marriage didn't work. When Charlotte tells Lizzie that she's accepted Mr. Collins' proposal by saying that he's offered her a home and (this is key, I think) protection, it had a finer sting to it than any other time I've viewed the film. (I've read the novel but admit that I never finished it.) She says that she can't afford to be romantic and, at 27, she really can't be. She's on the verge of either governessing (a bitter draught, especially for a woman whose father is apparently some sort of lord) or finding herself out in the cold. Lizzie's expression in response is all about exactly that. It seems to me that Lizzie has a moment of reconsidering and regretting her response to Collins' proposal -- just a flash -- because Charlotte's bald admission that she's already become a burden to her parents becomes almost a rebuke to Lizzie about her own situation.

Just sort of interesting to me how I perceived new layers in the film with a better understanding of the social mechanics of the era. It's a credit to the adaptation, I think, that those layers are there. Whether it was the director or the actress (or perhaps both) who really understood the situation, they brought a fine subtlety to the scene that made it clearer than almost any other moment in the film how desperate a young woman could feel if her prospects dwindled away or if, as in the case of Charlotte, she never had many to begin with.