“Mansfield Park is too dark.” Really???

“Mansfield Park is too dark.” Really???

I don’t think so. How can a novel where nobody perishes, a novel where there is no scene of violence, war, destruction or self-destruction possibly be dark?

Some people do fret about the slave trade (Sir Thomas’s plantations were 99% certain to have been worked by slaves. This is mentioned exactly once.) 

 Now, there’s almost no subject on earth wickeder than slavery, and I’m 99% sure that Austen herself opposed it – though there’s no actual evidence beyond the fact that three of her brothers were well-known abolitionists. 

However, Sir Thomas is never represented as a wicked slaveholder. Instead, he’s portrayed as rigid, unimaginative and a little humourless but still conscientious and caring. Even when angered – whether justifiably about Lovers’ Vows messing up his property or unfairly about Fanny’s refusal of Mr Crawford – he appears humane, mannerly and self-controlled. As even Mary Crawford acknowledges at one point, “He is just what the head of such a house should be. Nay, in sober sadness, now I love you all!” 

Another supposedly “dark” part of Mansfield Park is the “cruelty” of sending poor children away from their parents to their richer relatives – despite this generally gifting them more comfortable life outcomes. (This fate befalls Frank Churchill in Emma. Frank Churchill was adopted by the Churchills and given their name – yet still, somehow Emma isn’t generally considered “dark”.) 

In fact, one of the Jane Austen’s own brothers – Edward, was adopted similarly, greatly to his benefit. Jane Austen, to whom Edward was always generous, probably considered this practice as beneficial – as it certainly was for Fanny (and later, her sister Susan) in Mansfield Park.

Of course, not every child plucked from the bosom of their family was as lucky as the real Edward Austen and the fictional Frank Churchill. Some were certainly exploited – as unpaid child-minders, errand-runners, scullery maids, farm hands etc. But then, most children in the Regency era were exploited, simply because most people were exploited. Really, by considering Austen’s parents cruel for relinquishing Edward, or the Prices heartless for relinquishing Fanny, we’re guilty of judging something two hundred years ago with bang-up to date, 2024 eyes. 

But the Crawfords are wicked! some readers complain. The Crawfords make Mansfield Park so dark!

And here – I have to admit – these readers have a point. 

Henry behaved with remarkable wickedness when committing adultery – but I refuse to consider Mary Crawford as wicked. She loved Edmund (and, yes, pursued him) but only when they were both single. There’s nothing illegal, immoral or fattening about that.

Of course, we as readers are pulling for Fanny instead – Fanny, who had loved Edmund not only very much longer than Mary but very much more deeply – so Mary’s pursuit can it feel immoral (if not fattening). 

However, Mary never perceives that Fanny loves Edmund. Mary is no Lucy Steele, purposefully and maliciously twisting the knife in poor Elinor Dashwood’s wounds by confiding her own secret engagement to the man Elinor loves. 

In other words, given that Mary Crawford never guesses Fanny’s closely-guarded secret, where is the wickedness in her pursuing a decent-but-not-loaded guy like Edmund Bertram – especially when she might very well have married far more advantageously?  The complex and intriguing Mary Crawford is certainly no fortune-hunter. Instead, she is shocked by her own feelings as the play progresses. Had she ever actually married Edmund I suspect she would have improved enormously. 

But wait, I hear you cry, what about the darkest part of Mansfield Park – horrid Mrs Norris, the aunt from hell? 

Well, she’s never going to win a prize for Miss Congeniality. She patronises her younger sisters’ poverty-stricken offspring and idolises her elder sister’s spoiled and privileged offspring. She’s a hopeless busybody (that green baize!) and a vile stirrer, always up for hurting others, tone-deaf to anyone else’s pain. Also, she’s not only consistently mean to Fanny – but she certainly assists in pushing Maria into a disastrous union with Mr Rushworth.

On the other hand, Aunt Norris is also widowed, childless and sunk to a poorer position than she’d once enjoyed. She also winds up lonely and unhappy – her selfishness, like Maria’s lack of self-control, is unquestionably punished. Also, all the rudeness in the world doesn’t equate to wickedness.

 There are plenty of unpleasant people who aren’t wicked. They can be sanctimonious and unpleasant, or silly and unpleasant, or arrogant and unpleasant, or manipulative and unpleasant – and still not qualify as wicked. The only wickedness in Mansfield Park – besides the unspoken but potent half-shadow of slavery – is Maria and Crawford’s adultery. (Which changes everything.)

One can argue that Mrs Norris is over-punished and – as Austen herself wryly admitted – Henry Crawford under-punished, but they’re still both punished as, of course, is Maria. 

Still, we have a heartwarming HEA and a lovely wedding at the close, along with a great deal of acute observation of human nature, stunning plotting, marvellous pacing and brilliant dialogue to enjoy along the way.

Like Persuasion, it takes a certain level of emotional maturity – and perhaps even actual age – to love Mansfield Park. It doesn’t effortlessly seduce its readers, as Pride and Prejudice does. I’m often struck, on social media, by readers saying, “At last I’m enjoying Mansfield Park/Emma/Persuasion!”  

In other words, they disliked them once but they “get” them now. The books themselves haven’t altered, though. Instead as Heraclitus said, “No man can step twice into the same river.” The river has moved on… and so has the man. 

So, if you’ve read Mansfield Park, and not enjoyed it, or thought it “too dark” remember Mark Twain’s famous quip about the British weather:

 “If you don’t like the weather, just wait a little.”

A short story of Alice’s was just longlisted for the Historical Writer’s Association annual Dorothy Dunnett Award.

Her boxset (Susan, Harriet and Darcy, which was honoured at the last London Book Fair, is only $10 in October.)