Social change in ‘Persuasion’:

‘The opening of floodgates’

We ended last week with a brief reference to social change as being the secondary theme of ‘Persuasion'. Some might argue that it is the major theme. At any rate, it warrants further discussion as it is a contributory factor in the progressiveness that differentiates this novel from the others. It is also the area of interest in which Jane Austen's humour and irony are most in evidence.

Little effect

Jane Austen famously described the social scope of her work as “the little bit (two Inches wide) of Ivory on which I work with so fine a Brush, as produces little effect after much labour.” And, indeed, her preoccupation in her first five novels is with the interrelations between the nobility or the landed gentry and other subservient gentlefolk in rural England. Nor is the status quo of this exclusive branch of society disturbed. It is only questioned from within, as so effectively done in ‘Mansfield Park'. But in ‘Persuasion’, her sixth and last novel, we see the two inches actually widened to admit another class of society for our consideration, namely that represented by the naval officers, Admiral Croft and Captains Wentwort, Harville and Benwick.

Gillain Anderson as Lady Dedlock

This class is shown as estimable not by reason of inherited rank or wealth, as with the traditional upper and upper-middle class, but through the financial independence and social mobility they have earned for themselves through active service and achievement in their chosen profession. It is they who provide most of the narrative interest of the novel, taking the centre stage and influencing the outcome of events.

So that what we witness is Jane Austen finally turning on the titled class, which has hitherto been unchallenged by her in their claim to being regarded as the pinnacle of society and the paragon of civilised living. They are treated, as she now sees, as they deserve to be, and exposed for what they really are in her hitherto tolerant eyes.

Powerless

This she does through the character or Sir Walter Elliot, who is introduced to us thus:

“Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage;” (a book listing baronets with their genealogy etc.)”...there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed.”

“Vanity was the beginning and end of Sir Walter Eliott's character: vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his youth, and at fifty-four was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did...He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and devotion.”

As can be seen the irony, though as subtle as ever, is somewhat less gentle and almost verges on ridicule. We realise that the author is making her character representative of a class that she wishes to reveal as immoderately conceited and seeped in amour propre. But this is not all:

Vain attempt

“The Kellynch property was good, but not equal to Sir Walter's apprehension of the state required in its possessor...It had not been possible for him to spend less: he had done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliot was imperiously called upon to do; but blameless as he was, he was not only growing dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so often, that it became vain to attempt concealing longer..”

Sir Walter's pride has rendered him perilously close to bankruptcy. As the story proceeds we have evidence of further faults of character, namely callousness in the treatment of his own daughter and his attitude to Mrs Smith, shamelessness in his pursuit of the higher-born Dalrymples, and superficiality and hypocrisy in his social dealings. All of which makes us realise that he and the class he represents are morally and intellectually bankrupt and that their much-vaunted pre-eminence in society is of a kind that is both oppressive and parasitic.

Jane Austen

Therefore, that Admiral and Mrs Croft should replace Sir Walter and his equally vain and selfish eldest daughter, Elizabeth, as the chief occupants of Kellynch Hall and, effectively, the first family of the region, is fitting. But it is also symbolic of what was beginning to happen in England in the early nineteenth century as the harder-working professional and mercantile classes began to move into the forefront and upstage tne upper classes.

Once the Crofts move in the Musgroves, the family of landed gentry into which the youngest Elliot daughter has married, become associated with them. As a further sign of the re-alignments taking place in English society, one of their daughters gets unexpectedly engaged to Captain Benwick while the other eventually settles quite happily for her poorer clergyman cousin, Charles.

Favourable light

The portrayal of this other group of characters is in a much more favourable light than that of the Elliots-other than Anne. Where irony is present it is of a gentler kind that does not disturb our sense of their obviously appealing natures.

“Captain Harville, though not quite equalling Captain Wentworth in manners, was a perfect gentleman, unaffected, warm, and obliging. Mrs Harville, a degre less polished than her husband, seemed, however, to have the same good feelings, and nothing could be more pleasant than their desire of considering the whole party as friends of their own..”

“The Crofts....brought with them their country habit of being always together...it was a most attractive picture of happiness to her (Anne). She always watched them as long as she could...as they walked along in happy independence.”

“'Such excellent parents as Mr and Mrs Musgrove’, exclaimed Anne, ‘should be happy in their children's marriages. They do everything to confer happiness, I am sure. What a blessing for young people to be in such hands! Your father and mother seem totally free from all those ambitious feelings which have led to so much misconduct and misery, both in young and old.'”

Negative aspects

Of course, the positive qualities of these characters, as well as the negative aspects of the others, are not presented in a merely representative way. They are all brought into dramatic focus through the personal experience of the central character, Anne Elliot. Both the social significance and the human interest of the story centre about her. Driving this home is the fact that her constancy in devotion is finally rewarded by Captain Wentworth's declaration of love, whereas the heir-presumptive of Kellynch, her cousin Elliot, is rejected and exposed as a completely unacceptable suitor.

As the wheel thus comes full circle we find Jane Austen mingling indirect with direct criticism of her targets, viz: “Captain Wentworth, with five-and-twenty thousand pounds, and as high in his profession as merit and activity could place him, was no longer nobody. He was now esteemed quite worthy to address the daughter of a foolish, spendthrift baronet, who had not principle or sense enough to maintain himself in the situation in which Providence had placed him, and who could give his daughter at present but a small part of the share of ten thousand pounds which must be hers hereafter.”

As for Lady Russel, who eight years earlier had prevailed upon Anne to break off her engagement to Wentworth, “There was nothing less ...to do than to admit that she had been pretty completely wrong, and to take up a new set of opinions and of hopes.”

It seems that Jane Austen, at the end of her career and life, wants us to be in no doubt as to the widening of her social awareness and canvas. She has taken it upon herself to present to us in artistic terms her perception of a social upheaval that was beginning in England, an emerging meritocracy quietly taking over from a decaying aristocracy. The latter's incredulous response to this peaceful revolution, when it was well under way, was epitomised by Charles Dickens in ‘Bleak House’ in the following expostulation of Sir Leicester Dedlock:

“And it is a remarkable example of the confusion into which the present age has fallen; of the obliteration of landmarks, the opening of floodgates, and the uprooting of distinctions..that I have been informed that...Mrs Rouncewell's (the housekeeper's) son has been invited to go into Parliament.”