Mansfield Park (Introduction by Austin Dobson)

By Jane Austen

First published in 1814, “Mansfield Park” is Jane Austen’s third published novel, the story of Fanny Price, an impoverished young girl who at the age of ten is sent away by her overburdened family to be raised by her wealthy aunt and uncle, Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram, at their estate, the titular Mansfield Park. This classic coming of age story follows the young lives of Fanny and her four cousins, Tom, Edmund, Maria, and Julia. When Sir Thomas incurs a large debt he is forced to rent out the Mansfield Park parsonage which has been recently freed up by the death of the family’s Uncle Norris. Clergyman Dr. Grant and his wife take up residence in the parsonage and the aristocratic Crawford family from London joins them soon after. The arrival of the wealthy and fashionable Crawford family enlivens life at Mansfield Park and begins to spark romantic entanglements amongst its residents. While largely ignored by critics during her lifetime, “Mansfield Park” has since been recognized as one of Austen’s most mature works. The greatest financial success of Austen’s literary career, “Mansfield Park” is a brilliant and satirical depiction of the lives of the upper class in England during the early 19th century. This edition includes an introduction by Austin Dobson.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Digireads.com Publishing
• Release date: Jan 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781420954272

Jane Austen

Jane Austen was born in 1775 in rural Hampshire, the daughter of an affluent village rector who encouraged her in her artistic pursuits. In novels such as Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park and Emma she developed her subtle analysis of contemporary life through depictions of the middle-classes in small towns. Her sharp wit and incisive portraits of ordinary people have given her novels enduring popularity. She died in 1817.

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MANSFIELD PARK

By JANE AUSTEN

Introduction by AUSTIN DOBSON

Mansfield Park

By Jane Austen

Introduction by Austin Dobson

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5426-5

eBook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5427-2

This edition copyright © 2017. Digireads.com Publishing.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover Image: a detail of View of the Garden Front at Wandsworth Manor House, St. John's Hill, c. 1887 (w/c on paper), John Crowther (1837-1902) / London Metropolitan Archives, City of London / Bridgeman Images.

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Introduction

‘Oh, Mr. Bickerstaff,’ says the delightfully fatuous Tom Folio of the Tatler, ‘what would a man give to see one simile of Virgil writ in his own hand!’ What, indeed! one may reply. But the sentiment expressed is by no means the most foolish aspiration of Addison’s fantastic ‘broker in learning.’ To the genuine and reverent lover of letters, as opposed to the mere cackler and virtuoso, there is an exceptional attraction in the manuscript of a work which has taken rank as a classic, and has therefore attained to that eminence of reputation in which everything connected with its production becomes of interest. There lies before us at this moment a facsimile of Dickens’s Christmas Carol—‘my own, and only MS. of the Book,’ it is styled—and you may follow step by step his first thoughts, his second thoughts, his final decisions, until, with endless circumvolutions of correction, he arrives at that terminal, ‘And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless us every one!’ which puts the finishing touch to his task—a task, as we know from his biographers, prolonged through several weeks, and broken only by long nocturnal walks. At South Kensington you may see a sequence of the original MSS. of the novels from the first free and flowing script of Oliver Twist to the last labored and slow-moving paragraphs of Edwin Drood, and you may trace, if you will, the gradual signs which show how, as the creative power grew feebler, the effort was increased. We have no such memorials of the author of Mansfield Park. A few lines of facsimile in her nephew’s Life serve to exemplify ‘her clear, strong handwriting’; but though specimens of her manuscript must exist—of Lady Susan, for instance—they have never, as far as we are aware, been submitted for public inspection. It would be of considerable interest to learn whether she wrote readily or laboriously; whether she corrected greatly; whether, in short, those finished little epigrams of hers—to quote her own description of Mr. Collins’s compliments—‘proceeded from the impulse of the moment, or were the result of previous study.’ For ourselves, we are disposed to surmise that her work was, as the French say, ‘coulé d’un jet,’ that her sentences had taken precise and definite shape in her head before she set them down, and that her final word was not—like Victor Hugo’s, for instance—only the apex of a pyramid of discarded epithets. But her autographs seldom come into the market, and there are none in the British Museum. There is a fragment of a note to her niece in the Locker-Lampson collection at Rowfant, and a long letter to her sister, invitingly described as treating of her writings, was sold last year at Sotheby’s.

Something of the story of Mansfield Park has, of necessity, been included in the introductions to those of Miss Austen’s books which have preceded the present volume. As will be remembered, it belongs to, and begins, the second group of her novels. The first three of these had been written or sketched before she left Steventon in 1801, when she was twenty-six; the last three belong to the period of her residence at Chawton Cottage, in Hampshire, which commenced in 1809, when she was four-and-thirty. In the interval she had written nothing but the fragment reprinted in 1871 under the title of The Watsons. Whether, as we have already said,{1} this long intermission of literary activity—which is really longer than it looks, for she had practically ceased writing for three years before she left Steventon—must be attributed to obstacles in the way of publication, or to the fact that her parents claimed a larger share of her attention, is not now discoverable; but it may be repeated that, during all this fallow time, her powers of observation must have been maturing, her experience increasing in scope and variety, and her criticism of life becoming finer and more exact in quality. That there is much appreciable difference in her style there are good reasons for denying, one of the foremost being that, of her first written books, two were certainly revised at Chawton. But both in Mansfield Park and Emma there is unmistakable evidence of a closer grasp of the plot and a greater attention to its artistic evolution. After Sense and Sensibility was off her hands in 1811, and Pride and Prejudice had followed in 1813, she seems to have proceeded actively with Mansfield Park, which she had commenced in 1812. By the beginning of March 1814 it had apparently been completed, for her brother Henry is reading it approvingly (presumably in manuscript) on a posting journey which she takes with him to London, perhaps in order to arrange for its publication. ‘Henry’s approbation,’ she tells her sister Cassandra at this time, ‘is hitherto even equal to my wishes. He says it [Mansfield Park] is different from the other two [novels]; but does not appear to think it at all inferior. He has only married Mrs. R[ushworth]. I am afraid he has gone through the most entertaining part. He took to Lady B[ertram] and Mrs. N[orris] most kindly, and gives great praise to the drawing of the characters. He understands them all, likes Fanny, and, I think, foresees how it will all be.’ This quotation is from a letter which is added to the second edition of Mr. Austen-Leigh’s Memoir. Another, which must have immediately followed it, is given by Lord Brabourne, and from this we get the brother’s progressing verdict. ‘Henry has this moment said that he likes my M[ansfield] P[ark] better and better; he is in the third volume. I believe now he has changed his mind as to foreseeing the end; he said yesterday, at least, that he defied anybody to say whether H[enry] C[rawford] would be reformed or would forget Fanny in a fortnight.’ Finally, on 9th March, comes: ‘Henry has finished Mansfield Park, and his approbation has not lessened. He found the last half of the last volume extremely interesting.’ These quotations, in which the last italics are Miss Austen’s own, are notable for two reasons, neither of which concerns the literary value of the fraternal judgment. One is that her references to her works are of the briefest and most casual character; the other that, whatever the worth of the opinion reproduced, it constitutes the criticism upon which she still mainly relied to gauge the measure of her success. In the next letter, printed by Lord Brabourne, which is dated 13th June, it would seem that the book had then been printed, and, as a matter of fact, it is duly advertised among the Quarterly’s ‘List of New Publications’ for July, making joint appearance with Madame D’Arblay’s now forgotten novel of The Wanderer and the Rosanne of Miss Lætitia Matilda Hawkins. The publisher of Mansfield Park was the same Mr. Egerton who had issued its two predecessors, and by the middle of November the first edition was all sold. Whether a second edition was to be ‘hazarded’ was, however, still matter of debate. ‘People,’ she says in her modest way, ‘are more ready to borrow and praise than to buy, which I cannot wonder at; but, though I like praise as well as anybody, I like what Edward calls "Pewter" too.’ Eventually, towards the close of the following year, a second edition was arranged for, and it was advertised concurrently with the new novel of Emma. By this time, however, Miss Austen had changed her publisher. ‘I return,’ she writes to Mr. John Murray in December 1815, à propos of Emma, ‘also Mansfield Park, as ready for a second edition, I believe, as I can make it.’ A later letter to the same gentleman inserted in the second edition of Mr. Austen-Leigh’s Memoir and dated 1st April 1816, includes a little reference which should properly have had its place in the Introduction to Emma, as it supplies the sequel of that dedication to the Prince Regent, of which, according to His Royal Highness’s librarian, Mr. Clarke, the merits of Mansfield Park were the proximate cause. The First Gentleman in Europe does not seem to have particularly distinguished himself by the manner of his acknowledgment of the honor he had invited. He caused the author to be thanked for the ‘handsome copy’ she had sent him of Emma, a neglect of the text which leads her to observe to her correspondent, ‘with the least little touch of spleen,’ that whatever His Royal Highness might think of her share in the work, that of Mr. Murray had manifestly been approved.

Henry Austen was not the only person who did not think Mansfield Park ‘at all inferior,’ in spite of the fact that the Quarterly reviewer for October 1815—as already narrated in the Introduction to Emma—refrained from mentioning it in any way.{2} Indeed, like all Miss Austen’s other books, it has its party of preference, and Professor Goldwin Smith tells a story which should make that party even stronger. It is of a group of literary men at a country house, who, being required to write down the name of the novel which had given them the greatest pleasure, were found to have given no fewer than seven votes to Mansfield Park. The incident would gain in impressiveness if we were also informed how soon it occurred after the publication of the book, and how many voters there were on the occasion; but in any case the percentage must be abnormal. It is also recorded that Fanny Price was a prime favorite with Sydney Smith, a circumstance which should always count greatly in her favor. It is possible, however, that the modern reader, who has seen many descendants of this young lady, may not be equally impressed. She is certainly drawn with great care and insight. But she is neither as brilliant as Eliza Bennet nor as animated as Emma Woodhouse, and it is difficult not to suspect that she is rather the result of a preconception—a fixed intention to create a model character of a certain type, than a study from the life. The same may be said of Edmund Bertram. He is evidently meant to be a gentleman and a better clergyman than Mr. Collins or Mr. Elton or Dr. Grant. But like Fanny Price he also seems to have been drawn less objectively than subjectively; and both he and Miss Price, when they reflect and moralize, tremble sometimes on the verge of what has been styled ‘the discovery of the obvious.’ On the other hand, Henry Crawford and his sister are admirable. One sees and recognizes them to be real personages. None of the rest come up to these four, though William Price is a pleasant sketch—it may be, an Austen family portrait. Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram play secondary parts appropriately, and the two handsome Miss Bertrams are good flesh-and-blood examples of the education of the head at the expense of the heart—by which we mean something more than that merely physical organ which plays so palpitating a part in the famous Frederick-cum-Agatha scene of Lovers’ Vows. Mr. Rushworth, with his forty-two speeches, and his mother, with her housekeeper patter, are subordinate figures and therefore slightly drawn. But the Collins and Bates and Jennings gallery is admirably reinforced by Mrs. Norris. She is not an amiable character, nor is she intended to be. But whether she is arranging to provide for Fanny at her brother-in-law’s expense; or cajoling the housekeeper at Sotherton out of the pheasant’s eggs which, having been hatched under somebody’s hen, are to be reared in somebody else’s coop; or spiriting away the famous green baize curtain which was to have hung in such graceful festoons—she is uniformly diverting. Her absences from the stage leave it blanker, and her reappearances are hailed with delight.

A word may be added with respect to the play which, upon two occasions in this book, never got beyond a rehearsal. As far as we can remember, Miss Austen does not name the author of Lovers’ Vows. It was a translation, duly altered to suit British susceptibilities, from Das Kind der Liebe of Kotzebue, better known in this day as the author of that once popular Stranger in which Mrs. Haller (Miss Emily Fotheringay) captivated Mr. Arthur Pendennis, or of that other almost equally admired tragedy described by Miss Fotheringay’s father as Pezawro. There were several English versions of Das Kind der Liebe,{3} but the only one acted was Mrs. Inchbald’s, which had a considerable vogue at Covent Garden in 1798. This was some years after those private theatricals at Steventon Parsonage, of which the memories no doubt survive in Mansfield Park; but Miss Austen, besides being an assiduous playgoer when in London, was well posted in the drama of that Kean and Kemble age. Of literary allusion there is more in Mansfield Park than usual, for not only are Scott and Cowper quoted, but Henry Crawford talks sententiously of Shakespeare with Edmund Bertram, and Mary Crawford makes unexpected adaptation from that rather recondite parodist, Isaac Hawkins Browne. In an early chapter there is a reference which reminds us that although it was no longer possible, as in the last century, to send a cow or a housemaid by free post, the old-fashioned abuse of franking was still in full vigor, and mention is made elsewhere of that other reprehensible practice of hiding money under a seal which is described in Trevelyan’s Life of Macaulay. ‘Macaulay wrote to me at Harrow pretty constantly,’ says the biographer, ‘sealing his letters with an amorphous mass of red wax, which, in defiance of post-office regulations, not infrequently concealed a piece of gold.’ This is precisely how Edmund Bertram conveys half a guinea to William Price.

AUSTIN DOBSON, 1897.

Chapter One

About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet’s lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income. All Huntingdon exclaimed on the greatness of the match, and her uncle, the lawyer, himself, allowed her to be at least three thousand pounds short of any equitable claim to it. She had two sisters to be benefited by her elevation; and such of their acquaintance as thought Miss Ward and Miss Frances quite as handsome as Miss Maria, did not scruple to predict their marrying with almost equal advantage. But there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them. Miss Ward, at the end of half a dozen years, found herself obliged to be attached to the Rev. Mr. Norris, a friend of her brother-in-law, with scarcely any private fortune, and Miss Frances fared yet worse. Miss Ward’s match, indeed, when it came to the point, was not contemptible: Sir Thomas being happily able to give his friend an income in the living of Mansfield; and Mr. and Mrs. Norris began their career of conjugal felicity with very little less than a thousand a year. But Miss Frances married, in the common phrase, to disoblige her family, and by fixing on a lieutenant of marines, without education, fortune, or connections, did it very thoroughly. She could hardly have made a more untoward choice. Sir Thomas Bertram had interest, which, from principle as well as pride—from a general wish of doing right, and a desire of seeing all that were connected with him in situations of respectability, he would have been glad to exert for the advantage of Lady Bertram’s sister; but her husband’s profession was such as no interest could reach; and before he had time to devise any other method of assisting them, an absolute breach between the sisters had taken place. It was the natural result of the conduct of each party, and such as a very imprudent marriage almost always produces. To save herself from useless remonstrance, Mrs. Price never wrote to her family on the subject till actually married. Lady Bertram, who was a woman of very tranquil feelings, and a temper remarkably easy and indolent, would have contented herself with merely giving up her sister, and thinking no more of the matter; but Mrs. Norris had a spirit of activity, which could not be satisfied till she had written a long and angry letter to Fanny, to point out the folly of her conduct, and threaten her with all its possible ill consequences. Mrs. Price, in her turn, was injured and angry; and an answer, which comprehended each sister in its bitterness, and bestowed such very disrespectful reflections on the pride of Sir Thomas as Mrs. Norris could not possibly keep to herself, put an end to all intercourse between them for a considerable period.

Their homes were so distant, and the circles in which they moved so distinct, as almost to preclude the means of ever hearing of each other’s existence during the eleven following years, or, at least, to make it very wonderful to Sir Thomas that Mrs. Norris should ever have it in her power to tell them, as she now and then did, in an angry voice, that Fanny had got another child. By the end of eleven years, however, Mrs. Price could no longer afford to cherish pride or resentment, or to lose one connection that might possibly assist her. A large and still increasing family, an husband disabled for active service, but not the less equal to company and good liquor, and a very small income to supply their wants, made her eager to regain the friends she had so carelessly sacrificed; and she addressed Lady Bertram in a letter which spoke so much contrition and despondence, such a superfluity of children, and such a want of almost everything else, as could not but dispose them all to a reconciliation. She was preparing for her ninth lying-in; and after bewailing the circumstance, and imploring their countenance as sponsors to the expected child, she could not conceal how important she felt they might be to the future maintenance of the eight already in being. Her eldest was a boy of ten years old, a fine spirited fellow, who longed to be out in the world; but what could she do? Was there any chance of his being hereafter useful to Sir Thomas in the concerns of his West Indian property? No situation would be beneath him; or what did Sir Thomas think of Woolwich? or how could a boy be sent out to the East?

The letter was not unproductive. It re-established peace and kindness. Sir Thomas sent friendly advice and professions, Lady Bertram dispatched money and baby-linen, and Mrs. Norris wrote the letters.

Such were its immediate effects, and within a twelvemonth a more important advantage to Mrs. Price resulted from it. Mrs. Norris was often observing to the others that she could not get her poor sister and her family out of her head, and that, much as they had all done for her, she seemed to be wanting to do more; and at length she could not but own it to be her wish that poor Mrs. Price should be relieved from the charge and expense of one child entirely out of her great number. What if they were among them to undertake the care of her eldest daughter, a girl now nine years old, of an age to require more attention than her poor mother could possibly give? The trouble and expense of it to them would be nothing, compared with the benevolence of the action. Lady Bertram agreed with her instantly. I think we cannot do better, said she; let us send for the child.

Sir Thomas could not give so instantaneous and unqualified a consent. He debated and hesitated;—it was a serious charge;—a girl so brought up must be adequately provided for, or there would be cruelty instead of kindness in taking her from her family. He thought of his own four children, of his two sons, of cousins in love, etc.;—but no sooner had he deliberately begun to state his objections, than Mrs. Norris interrupted him with a reply to them all, whether stated or not.

"My dear Sir Thomas, I perfectly comprehend you, and do justice to the generosity and delicacy of your notions, which indeed are quite of a piece with your general conduct; and I entirely agree with you in the main as to the propriety of doing everything one could by way of providing for a child one had in a manner taken into one’s own hands; and I am sure I should be the last person in the world to withhold my mite upon such an occasion. Having no children of my own, who should I look to in any little matter I may ever have to bestow, but the children of my sisters?—and I am sure Mr. Norris is too just—but you know I am a woman of few words and professions. Do not let us be frightened from a good deed by a trifle. Give a girl an education, and introduce her properly into the world, and ten to one but she has the means of settling well, without farther expense to anybody. A niece of ours, Sir Thomas, I may say, or at least of yours, would not grow up in this neighbourhood without many advantages. I don’t say she would be so handsome as her cousins. I dare say she would not; but she would be introduced into the society of this country under such very favourable circumstances as, in all human probability, would get her a creditable establishment. You are thinking of your sons—but do not you know that, of all things upon earth, that is the least likely to happen, brought up as they would be, always together like brothers and sisters? It is morally impossible. I never knew an instance of it. It is, in fact, the only sure way of providing against the connection. Suppose her a pretty girl, and seen by Tom or Edmund for the first time seven years hence, and I dare say there would be mischief. The very idea of her having been suffered to grow up at a distance from us all in poverty and neglect, would be enough to make either of the dear, sweet-tempered boys in love with her. But breed her up with them from this time, and suppose her even to have the beauty of an angel, and she will never be more to either than a sister."

There is a great deal of truth in what you say, replied Sir Thomas, and far be it from me to throw any fanciful impediment in the way of a plan which would be so consistent with the relative situations of each. I only meant to observe that it ought not to be lightly engaged in, and that to make it really serviceable to Mrs. Price, and creditable to ourselves, we must secure to the child, or consider ourselves engaged to secure to her hereafter, as circumstances may arise, the provision of a gentlewoman, if no such establishment should offer as you are so sanguine in expecting.

I thoroughly understand you, cried Mrs. Norris, "you are everything that is generous and considerate, and I am sure we shall never disagree on this point. Whatever I can do, as you well know, I am always ready enough to do for the good of those I love; and, though I could never feel for this little girl the hundredth part of the regard I bear your own dear children, nor consider her, in any respect, so much my own, I should hate myself if I were capable of neglecting her. Is not she a sister’s child? and could I bear to see her want while I had a bit of bread to give her? My dear Sir Thomas, with all my faults I have a warm heart; and, poor as I am, would rather deny myself the necessaries of life than do an ungenerous thing. So, if you are not against it, I will write to my poor sister tomorrow, and make the proposal; and, as soon as matters are settled, I will engage to get the child to Mansfield; you shall have no trouble about it. My own trouble, you know, I never regard. I will send Nanny to London on purpose, and she may have a bed at her cousin the saddler’s, and the child be appointed to meet her there. They may easily get her from Portsmouth to town by the coach, under the care of any creditable person that may chance to be going. I dare say there is always some reputable tradesman’s wife or other going up."

Except to the attack on Nanny’s cousin, Sir Thomas no longer made any objection, and a more respectable, though less economical rendezvous being accordingly substituted, everything was considered as settled, and the pleasures of so benevolent a scheme were already enjoyed. The division of gratifying sensations ought not, in strict justice, to have been equal; for Sir Thomas was fully resolved to be the real and consistent patron of the selected child, and Mrs. Norris had not the least intention of being at any expense whatever in her maintenance. As far as walking, talking, and contriving reached, she was thoroughly benevolent, and nobody knew better how to dictate liberality to others; but her love of money was equal to her love of directing, and she knew quite as well how to save her own as to spend that of her friends. Having married on a narrower income than she had been used to look forward to, she had, from the first, fancied a very strict line of economy necessary; and what was begun as a matter of prudence, soon grew into a matter of choice, as an object of that needful solicitude which there were no children to supply. Had there been a family to provide for, Mrs. Norris might never have saved her money; but having no care of that kind, there was nothing to impede her frugality, or lessen the comfort of making a yearly addition to an income which they had never lived up to. Under this infatuating principle, counteracted by no real affection for her sister, it was impossible for her to aim at more than the credit of projecting and arranging so expensive a charity; though perhaps she might so little know herself as to walk home to the Parsonage, after this conversation, in the happy belief of being the most liberal-minded sister and aunt in the world.

When the subject was brought forward again, her views were more fully explained; and, in reply to Lady Bertram’s calm inquiry of Where shall the child come to first, sister, to you or to us? Sir Thomas heard with some surprise that it would be totally out of Mrs. Norris’s power to take any share in the personal charge of her. He had been considering her as a particularly welcome addition at the Parsonage, as a desirable companion to an aunt who had no children of her own; but he found himself wholly mistaken. Mrs. Norris was sorry to say that the little girl’s staying with them, at least as things then were, was quite out of the question. Poor Mr. Norris’s indifferent state of health made it an impossibility: he could no more bear the noise of a child than he could fly; if, indeed, he should ever get well of his gouty complaints, it would be a different matter: she should then be glad to take her turn, and think nothing of the inconvenience; but just now, poor Mr. Norris took up every moment of her time, and the very mention of such a thing she was sure would distract him.

Then she had better come to us, said Lady Bertram, with the utmost composure. After a short pause Sir Thomas added with dignity, Yes, let her home be in this house. We will endeavour to do our duty by her, and she will, at least, have the advantage of companions of her own age, and of a regular instructress.

Very true, cried Mrs. Norris, which are both very important considerations; and it will be just the same to Miss Lee whether she has three girls to teach, or only two—there can be no difference. I only wish I could be more useful; but you see I do all in my power. I am not one of those that spare their own trouble; and Nanny shall fetch her, however it may put me to inconvenience to have my chief counsellor away for three days. I suppose, sister, you will put the child in the little white attic, near the old nurseries. It will be much the best place for her, so near Miss Lee, and not far from the girls, and close by the housemaids, who could either of them help to dress her, you know, and take care of her clothes, for I suppose you would not think it fair to expect Ellis to wait on her as well as the others. Indeed, I do not see that you could possibly place her anywhere else.

Lady Bertram made no opposition.

I hope she will prove a well-disposed girl, continued Mrs. Norris, and be sensible of her uncommon good fortune in having such friends.

Should her disposition be really bad, said Sir Thomas, "we must not, for our own children’s sake, continue her in the family; but there is no reason to expect so great an evil. We shall probably see much to wish altered in her, and must prepare ourselves for gross ignorance, some meanness of opinions, and very distressing vulgarity of manner; but these are not incurable faults; nor, I trust, can they be dangerous for her associates. Had my daughters been younger than herself, I should have considered the introduction of such a companion as a matter of very serious moment; but, as it is, I hope there can be nothing to fear for them, and everything to hope for her, from the association."

That is exactly what I think, cried Mrs. Norris, "and what I was saying to my husband this morning. It will be an education for the child, said I, only being with her cousins; if Miss Lee taught her nothing, she would learn to be good and clever from them."

I hope she will not tease my poor pug, said Lady Bertram; I have but just got Julia to leave it alone.

There will be some difficulty in our way, Mrs. Norris, observed Sir Thomas, "as to the distinction proper to be made between the girls as they grow up: how to preserve in the minds of my daughters the consciousness of what they are, without making them think too lowly of their cousin; and how, without depressing her spirits too far, to make her remember that she is not a Miss Bertram. I should wish to see them very good friends, and would, on no account, authorize in my girls the smallest degree of arrogance towards their relation; but still they cannot be equals. Their rank, fortune, rights, and expectations will always be different. It is a point of great delicacy, and you must assist us in our endeavours to choose exactly the right line of conduct."

Mrs. Norris was quite at his service; and though she perfectly agreed with him as to its being a most difficult thing, encouraged him to hope that between them it would be easily managed.

It will be readily believed that Mrs. Norris did not write to her sister in vain. Mrs. Price seemed rather surprised that a girl should be fixed on, when she had so many fine boys, but accepted the offer most thankfully, assuring them of her daughter’s being a very well-disposed, good-humoured girl, and trusting they would never have cause to throw her off. She spoke of her farther as somewhat delicate and puny, but was sanguine in the hope of her being materially better for change of air. Poor woman! she probably thought change of air might agree with many of her children.

Chapter Two

The little girl performed her long journey in safety; and at Northampton was met by Mrs. Norris, who thus regaled in the credit of being foremost to welcome her, and in the importance of leading her in to the others, and recommending her to their kindness.

Fanny Price was at this time just ten years old, and though there might not be much in her first appearance to captivate, there was, at least, nothing to disgust her relations. She was small of her age, with no glow of complexion, nor any other striking beauty; exceedingly timid and shy, and shrinking from notice; but her air, though awkward, was not vulgar, her voice was sweet, and when she spoke her countenance was pretty. Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram received her very kindly; and Sir Thomas, seeing how much she needed encouragement, tried to be all that was conciliating: but he had to work against a most untoward gravity of deportment; and Lady Bertram, without taking half so much trouble, or speaking one word where he spoke ten, by the mere aid of a good-humoured smile, became immediately the less awful character of the two.

The young people were all at home, and sustained their share in the introduction very well, with much good humour, and no embarrassment, at least on the part of the sons, who, at seventeen and sixteen, and tall of their age, had all the grandeur of men in the eyes of their little cousin. The two girls were more at a loss from being younger and in greater awe of their father, who addressed them on the occasion with rather an injudicious particularity. But they were too much used to company and praise to have anything like natural shyness; and their confidence increasing from their cousin’s total want of it, they were soon able to take a full survey of her face and her frock in easy indifference.

They were a remarkably fine family, the sons very well-looking, the daughters decidedly handsome, and all of them well-grown and forward of their age, which produced as striking a difference between the cousins in person, as education had given to their address; and no one would have supposed the girls so nearly of an age as they really were. There were in fact but two years between the youngest and Fanny. Julia Bertram was only twelve, and Maria but a year older. The little visitor meanwhile was as unhappy as possible. Afraid of everybody, ashamed of herself, and longing for the home she had left, she knew not how to look up, and could scarcely speak to be heard, or without crying. Mrs. Norris had been talking to her the whole way from Northampton of her wonderful good fortune, and the extraordinary degree of gratitude and good behaviour which it ought to produce, and her consciousness of misery was therefore increased by the idea of its being a wicked thing for her not to be happy. The fatigue, too, of so long a journey, became soon no trifling evil. In vain were the well-meant condescensions of Sir Thomas, and all the officious prognostications of Mrs. Norris that she would be a good girl; in vain did Lady Bertram smile and make her sit on the sofa with herself and pug, and vain was even the sight of a gooseberry tart towards giving her comfort; she could scarcely swallow two mouthfuls before tears interrupted her, and sleep seeming to be her likeliest friend, she was taken to finish her sorrows in bed.

This is not a very promising beginning, said Mrs. Norris, when Fanny had left the room. "After all that I said to her as we came along, I thought she would have behaved better; I told her how much might depend upon her acquitting herself well at first. I wish there may not be a little sulkiness of temper—her poor mother had a good deal; but we must make allowances for such a child—and I do not know that her being sorry to leave her home is really against her, for, with all its faults, it was her home, and she cannot as yet understand how much she has changed for the better; but then there is moderation in all things."

It required a longer time, however, than Mrs. Norris was inclined to allow, to reconcile Fanny to the novelty of Mansfield Park, and the separation from everybody she had been used to. Her feelings were very acute, and too little understood to be properly attended to. Nobody meant to be unkind, but nobody put themselves out of their way to secure her comfort.

The holiday allowed to the Miss Bertrams the next day, on purpose to afford leisure for getting acquainted with, and entertaining their young cousin, produced little union. They could not but hold her cheap on finding that she had but two sashes, and had never learned French; and when they perceived her to be little struck with the duet they were so good as to play, they could do no more than make her a generous present of some of their least valued toys, and leave her to herself, while they adjourned to whatever might be the favourite holiday sport of the moment, making artificial flowers or wasting gold paper.

Fanny, whether near or from her cousins, whether in the schoolroom, the drawing-room, or the shrubbery, was equally forlorn, finding something to fear in every person and place. She was disheartened by Lady Bertram’s silence, awed by Sir Thomas’s grave looks, and quite overcome by Mrs. Norris’s admonitions. Her elder cousins mortified her by reflections on her size, and abashed her by noticing her shyness: Miss Lee wondered at her ignorance, and the maid-servants sneered at her clothes; and when to these sorrows was added the idea of the brothers and sisters among whom she had always been important as playfellow, instructress, and nurse, the despondence that sunk her little heart was severe.

The grandeur of the house astonished, but could not console her. The rooms were too large for her to move in with ease: whatever she touched she expected to injure, and she crept about in constant terror of something or other; often retreating towards her own chamber to cry; and the little girl who was spoken of in the drawing-room when she left it at night as seeming so desirably sensible of her peculiar good fortune, ended every day’s sorrows by sobbing herself to sleep. A week had passed in this way, and no suspicion of it conveyed by her quiet passive manner, when she was found one morning by her cousin Edmund, the youngest of the sons, sitting crying on the attic stairs.

My dear little cousin, said he, with all the gentleness of an excellent nature, what can be the matter? And sitting down by her, he was at great pains to overcome her shame in being so surprised, and persuade her to speak openly. Was she ill? or was anybody angry with her? or had she quarrelled with Maria and Julia? or was she puzzled about anything in her lesson that he could explain? Did she, in short, want anything he could possibly get her, or do for her? For a long while no answer could be obtained beyond a no, no—not at all—no, thank you; but he still persevered; and no sooner had he begun to revert to her own home, than her increased sobs explained to him where the grievance lay. He tried to console her.

You are sorry to leave Mama, my dear little Fanny, said he, which shows you to be a very good girl; but you must remember that you are with relations and friends, who all love you, and wish to make you happy. Let us walk out in the park, and you shall tell me all about your brothers and sisters.

On pursuing the subject, he found that, dear as all these brothers and sisters generally were, there was one among them who ran more in her thoughts than the rest. It was William whom she talked of most, and wanted most to see. William, the eldest, a year older than herself, her constant companion and friend; her advocate with her mother (of whom he was the darling) in every distress. William did not like she should come away; he had told her he should miss her very much indeed. But William will write to you, I dare say. "Yes, he had promised he would, but he had told her to write first. And when shall you do it? She hung her head and answered hesitatingly, she did not know; she had not any paper."

If that be all your difficulty, I will furnish you with paper and every other material, and you may write your letter whenever you choose. Would it make you happy to write to William?

Yes, very.

Then let it be done now. Come with me into the breakfast-room, we shall find everything there, and be sure of having the room to ourselves.

But, cousin, will it go to the post?

Yes, depend upon me it shall: it shall go with the other letters; and, as your uncle will frank it, it will cost William nothing.

My uncle! repeated Fanny, with a frightened look.

Yes, when you have written the letter, I will take it to my father to frank.

Fanny thought it a bold measure, but offered no further resistance; and they went together into the breakfast-room, where Edmund prepared her paper, and ruled her lines with all the goodwill that her brother could himself have felt, and probably with somewhat more exactness. He continued with her the whole time of her writing, to assist her with his penknife or his orthography, as either were wanted; and added to these attentions, which she felt very much, a kindness to her brother which delighted her beyond all the rest. He wrote with his own hand his love to his cousin William, and sent him half a guinea under the seal. Fanny’s feelings on the occasion were such as she believed herself incapable of expressing; but her countenance and a few artless words fully conveyed all their gratitude and delight, and her cousin began to find her an interesting object. He talked to her more, and, from all that she said, was convinced of her having an affectionate heart, and a strong desire of doing right; and he could perceive her to be farther entitled to attention by great sensibility of her situation, and great timidity. He had never knowingly given her pain, but he now felt that she required more positive kindness; and with that view endeavoured, in the first place, to lessen her fears of them all, and gave her especially a great deal of good advice as to playing with Maria and Julia, and being as merry as possible.

From this day Fanny grew more comfortable. She felt that she had a friend, and the kindness of her cousin Edmund gave her better spirits with everybody else. The place became less strange, and the people less formidable; and if there were some amongst them whom she could not cease to fear, she began at least to know their ways, and to catch the best manner of conforming to them. The little rusticities and awkwardnesses which had at first made grievous inroads on the tranquillity of all, and not least of herself, necessarily wore away, and she was no longer materially afraid to appear before her uncle, nor did her aunt Norris’s voice make her start very much. To her cousins she became occasionally an acceptable companion. Though unworthy, from inferiority of age and strength, to be their constant associate, their pleasures and schemes were sometimes of a nature to make a third very useful, especially when that third was of an obliging, yielding temper; and they could not but own, when their aunt inquired into her faults, or their brother Edmund urged her claims to their kindness, that Fanny was good-natured enough.

Edmund was uniformly kind himself; and she had nothing worse to endure on the part of Tom than that sort of merriment which a young man of seventeen will always think fair with a child of ten. He was just entering into life, full of spirits, and with all the liberal dispositions of an eldest son, who feels born only for expense and enjoyment. His kindness to his little cousin was consistent with his situation and rights: he made her some very pretty presents, and laughed at her.

As her appearance and spirits improved, Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris thought with greater satisfaction of their benevolent plan; and it was pretty soon decided between them that, though far from clever, she showed a tractable disposition, and seemed likely to give them little trouble. A mean opinion of her abilities was not confined to them. Fanny could read, work, and write, but she had been taught nothing more; and as her cousins found her ignorant of many things with which they had been long familiar, they thought her prodigiously stupid, and for the first two or three weeks were continually bringing some fresh report of it into the drawing-room. Dear mama, only think, my cousin cannot put the map of Europe together—or my cousin cannot tell the principal rivers in Russia—or, she never heard of Asia Minor—or she does not know the difference between water-colours and crayons!—How strange!—Did you ever hear anything so stupid?

My dear, their considerate aunt would reply, it is very bad, but you must not expect everybody to be as forward and quick at learning as yourself.

"But, aunt, she is really so very ignorant!—Do you know, we asked her last night which way she would go to get to Ireland; and she said, she should cross to the Isle of Wight. She thinks of nothing but the Isle of Wight, and she calls it the Island, as if there were no other island in the world. I am sure I should have been ashamed of myself, if I had not known better long before I was so old as she is. I cannot remember the time when I did not know a great deal that she has not the least notion of yet. How long ago it is, aunt, since we used to repeat the chronological order of the kings of England, with the dates of their accession, and most of the principal events of their reigns!"

Yes, added the other; and of the Roman emperors as low as Severus; besides a great deal of the heathen mythology, and all the metals, semi-metals, planets, and distinguished philosophers.

"Very true indeed, my dears, but you are blessed with wonderful memories, and your poor cousin

Reviews for Mansfield Park (Introduction by Austin Dobson)

[harrod_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Delightful

[doingdewey · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

As with the Northanger Abbey, Austen’s writing and humor are all that stands between this book and a two star review. Our heroine, Fanny, is the perfect shy, obedient young woman and for that reason alone, it seems we are supposed to prefer her to Miss Crawford, her competition for Edmund’s heart. Although Miss Crawford can be superficial and even cruel, it seems her main flaw is not behaving as women were expected to behave at the time. As a modern reader, I sometimes found her more sympathetic than Fanny. Likewise, Fanny’s alternate love interest seemed a better match for her than Edmund in manys, starting with the fact that Edmund is her cousin and is sometimes very thoughtless of her feelings. My lack of enthusiasm for Austen’s romantic pairings was offset by my dislike of one particularly nasty character and my enjoyment at seeing her thwarted. That was second only my to my enjoyment at seeing the nastier characters made fun of with Austen’s characteristic wit. Overall, this book was very slow and I felt little interest in the outcome. Again, enjoyable only if you love Austen’s writing.

This review first published on Doing Dewey.

[stewartry · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Some small spoilers lie below. As it turns out, I have never read (or listened to) Mansfield Park before, and somehow managed to know nothing about the characters or story – I don't know how I managed to remain completely unspoiled, but it was unexpected, and fun. The narration by Karen Savage lives up to the high standard she set with Persuasion: I like her work, very much. She creates a wide array of both male and female character voices which generally avoid being the least cartoonish but still manage to each be distinct and identifiable: the tone a little lighter and gentler than the narration is Fanny; Lady Bertram is breathy and indifferent; the slightly deeper, measured voice is Edmund; the pompous-sounding deeper voice is Tom. Mansfield is a leisurely tale following the Bertram family and its Price transplant through marital negotiations and trips to the country and financial threats no one seems to grasp the true dangers of. If the Antigua estates really had failed or been lost, it seems there would have been drastic repercussions; also, an ocean voyage in the 1800's was never anything to take lightly, much less travel in the third world. There was a strong underlying tone of menace to the Messrs. Bertram while they were away, but the at-home family seemed to continue perfectly sanguine. Except for Fanny, who is as gifted at Worrying as my mother, and that's pretty extraordinarily gifted. Fanny. Oh, Fanny. She's just so … nice. She's so nice I want to throw an expletival qualifier in there, and I can't; this is Jane Austen I'm talking about. She's timid and fragile and sweet, and obliging and not as delicate as she seems, and sweet. And meek, and … when I right-click on "meek", Word gives me synonyms: humble, submissive, gentle, docile, modest, compliant, and mild. And sweet. Far from a backbone, there isn't a vertebra in the girl's entire body. Her entire skeletal system seems to be made of cartilage. Jane Bennet is sweet and modest and docile too, but by golly she can stand up for herself or someone she loves if need be. I think in a confrontation Fanny might simply cry, and then faint. Not a character much admired in this day and age. But she's so sweet. I saw someone's Goodreads status update for P&P commenting on how much he appreciated the writing and the characters, but he was on such and such page and … nothing … was … happening. I have never found that with P&P. Mansfield Park, however … oh my. Fanny comes to Mansfield … nothing … Mr. Bertram and Tom go away … nothing … the Crawfords move in … nothing … Tom comes back … protracted space of nothing … Lovers' Vows and things happen for a few chapters and then Mr. Bertram comes home and everything comes to a screeching halt and … nothing … That, combined with the extreme meekness of Fanny, makes for a surprisingly leisurely and … well, dull story. For the most part we share no one's thoughts but Fanny's, and hers are so very athletically self-effacing and charitable – even to Mrs. Norris, one of the people least deserving of charity in this novel, if not ever – that events are not exactly moved along. It's a jolt when, briefly and rarely, we are made privy to conversations between Mary and Henry Crawford, laced with languorous malice.Perhaps the purpose of this day-to-day gentle unfolding of story is to focus the reader on the small things that do happen. In a modern setting, the concerns which beset Fanny would be almost nothing. Certainly the drama surrounding the play would be non-existent; it would trouble no one that a group of upper class young folk would do an amateur play, even if it was a bit racy. But given the placid pond that rock dropped into, there is a very real tension and concern about the morality of it all. And perhaps the intent in making Fanny so stunningly selfless was to make it so very ironic when Mr. Bertram berates her for selfishness. Her reasons for doing what she does are partly selfish, but only a very small part; she can't explain without telling him things he doesn't want to know, which she would consider a betrayal of others. From that moment on Fanny's life becomes a nightmare. The wrong interpretation is put on her actions, and every word she says to Edmund or her uncle is contradicted or ignored. Every. Single. Word. "I don't believe I can love him." "Certainly you can." "We are so very different." "No you're not." "I don't want to talk to you." "You say that, but what exactly do you mean? Tell me!""I don't want to talk about it." "Well, we must, and I must tell your aunts. Oh, and your cousin. His sister and their entire staff already knows. We won't talk to you about it if you wish, not above two or three times. A day.""I will never marry him!" "I wonder what we should give you as a wedding present …""No!" "You mean maybe!" It's horrifying. And, again, I've been there. You can say anything, and you might as well be speaking Aramaic from the response. Poor Fanny. My GR status update from Chapter 35: I'm 73% done with Mansfield Park: In the midst of Ch. 35; I don't know how this story ends. I've seen spoilers both ways: that she marries Edmund, and that she doesn't. And right now I can honestly say that if she marries him I ... shall be most provoked. I want to shoot him in this chapter. (Which makes a change from wanting to shake Fanny.)Oh well. A bit more is on my blog.

[tommi180744 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A master storyteller at the height of her powers with Mansfield Park the superior textual quality of Austen's writing and her skill at distilling what possesses the heart & mind of each of her characters whilst exploring societal issues of the era alongside gracefully set out background is apparent on every page.My one reservation is this particular publication's really AWFUL Cover!

[thewasp_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This girl does have a way with words.. Once you leave the 21st century and relax into the flow of of Fanny Price's world you are treated to a subtle and insightful view of the lives of the "rich and famous" albiet 200 years ago. Certainly not a fast paced story but the characters are interesting (if not always liked) and the good guys win.

[silverkitty-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Nine-year-old Fanny Price is sent to live with more well off relatives. The book follows Fanny and her family over the next ten or so years. The plot is limited but the characters are rich - Fanny, her aunts and uncle, four cousins and a couple of neighbors are described and developed in full detail. Compared to some of Austen's other characters, Fanny is quite timid and frail. She has a champion in her cousin Edward, who looks out for her in many situations. Some have said this book is too subtle. I found it to be more direct than Pride and Prejudice. In spots it takes on an almost preachy tone, and all the preaching is done by speech of the various characters. Mansfield Park is a slow read, and wasn't a page turner for me. That said, Austen's reflections on human nature and the human experience are just as valid today as they were 200 years ago. Austen is quite the idealist, but not in a bad way. People do influence each other, for good or ill, and character counts, then and now.

[philsyphe · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

While I admire Jane Austen’s eloquent language, a gripping plot is not in evidence here. I didn’t expect fast-paced excitement, but did hope for something deeper.Although I found the heroine of the piece endearing, she’s too placid and timid to add any sparkle to the tale.My attention was held by various interesting scenes, and because of these I intended to rate the book three stars, until I read the last chapter. Without giving anything away, this is among the poorest closing chapters I’ve read by any author. Not because of what happens, but because of how the final events are presented. Nothing is dramatized. The third-person narrator *tells* us what happened, so we don’t get to *see* any of it.

[baswood · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park has been on my bookshelves for years and I took it away on holiday thinking I might get round to reading it at last. A couple of novels later and I started in on Austen’s longest book and found that I could hardly put it down. A beach read, it is not as it presents problems for the modern reader that must be overcome, before enjoyment completely takes hold, but when it does it provides an immensely satisfying read. Banyuls-sur-Mere is a pretty little town on the French Mediterranean coast and one that I love to visit, but this trip will be remembered for the time I spent on the balcony of my holiday apartment clutching my copy of Mansfield Park. I had no internet connection and so there were no distractions, but this meant also that I could not google for background information and so this first reading was very much a first impression. I have read other novels by Jane Austen and so it was not a complete leap in the dark, but it did lead me to think of issues that modern readers might face, when approaching this book for the first time. Austen’s sentence structure and syntax can be a little confusing, especially when she is reporting conversation. It is not always easy to understand who is saying what to whom: she also writes the occasional word in a paragraph in italics which I presume is for emphasis, but this style is not much used today. An omniscient author writes the first three chapters and by this time Fanny Price (the heroine) is approaching seventeen; most of the subsequent events are seen through her eyes, however Austen does add her own commentary from time to time and the reader has to be aware whether the views expressed are authorial or those which Fanny might be saying or thinking.The novel was published in 1814 at a time when Europe was still engaged in the Napoleonic wars, the French revolution was still very much in the minds of many educated people and Austen’s novel reads for the most part like a celebration of English traditions and manners. It is almost as though the industrial revolution had not yet taken place as the novel is firmly situated amongst the genteel rich patrons of the English countryside. The class system is firmly in place and in Austen’s characters views, everybody should know their place and more importantly for the most part keep to it; rights according to birth are sacrosanct. It is a novel that looks backwards to a golden age rather than forward to a changing society, respect for ones betters according to birthright is the accepted norm.In Austen’s world family and property defines who you are and people are judged by their manners, politeness and how well they do by their family. The family grows rich together and marriages are seen as a means of enhancing a family’s connections: arrangements are made and while suitability is a consideration; love is something that may develop in time, but is mostly accepted as not being prerequisite for an ideal marriage. Feminism has no place in this society and although readers might be encouraged to admire the resolve of female characters, they will find them castigated if they stray too far from accepted family values.The profession of clergymen was still at this time the most likely avenue for the second son of a well to do family. In Mansfield Park the first son (Tom) will inherit everything and so it is Edmund who will follow the traditional career path as the second son. For Edmund being a clergyman is a vocation. He sees it as a unifying force within his community and he will do his best to succeed in guiding his flock for the betterment of mankind, prayers, sermons and preaching are essential requisites for the community. Edmund is the steady hand of tradition in his family and the son most admired. Throughout the novel there is resistance to change. The fashion for landscape gardens advocated by Henry Crawford is a step to far for Edmund. Sir Thomas Bertram head of the family is an authoritarian figure who immediately puts a stop to a theatrical event at his house. Fanny Price the adopted daughter of the Bertram household is perhaps the most resistant of all to change and it is she as the central character that seems to pose the most problems for readers. She is non-assertive, meek, mild and an upholder of family values. She seems always to put other people first and suffers in silence as a result. But this novel is essentially a bildungsroman and Fanny Price’s development as a person becomes a shinning example to some of those around her; Edmund, Tom, her brother William, Sir Thomas himself are all affected by her good heart, her respectability and finally an inner strength. She is the embodiment of all that a woman should be to fit into this patriarchal society and this in depth study demonstrates the qualities and strengths needed to uphold the values in which she instinctively believes.The raison d’être for the novel is of course a romance. The Bertram family have two sons and two daughters of marriageable age. Maria Bertram the beauty of the family marries for money and position, with the wholehearted support of the family, her sister Julia tries to make her own opportunities. Edmund falls in love with Miss Mary Crawford a society woman of independent means, but she does not wish to marry a clergyman. The central love story is Mary’s brother the forward looking wealthy Henry Crawford who falls in love with Fanny after a dalliance with the two Bertram sisters. A match that would seem to be a superb opportunity for an adopted daughter with few prospects. Fanny against all advice rejects Henry, she finds him fascinating, with some good qualities, but she does not love him and most seriously of all she cannot trust him. The third part of the novel is Henry’s continued pursuit of Fanny; a suit that causes her grief and pain. Austen takes her readers into the world of Regency splendour. The culture and manners of that society are brilliantly evoked. There are some amazing set pieces; the amateur production of the play Lovers Vows, Fanny’s first trip out with her new family to Sotherton, her coming out ball and her banishment back to her working class family in Portsmouth. At the centre of everything is Fanny Price’s world and inner world views. It is steady, respectable, dutiful and gracious, which makes her at times seem almost an anti-heroine, she is physically weak and lacks assertiveness, but her strength is her firm belief in tradition and family values.To appreciate this novel fully one must not judge Mansfield Park by modern standards or by equality of opportunity. It is a different world brought richly to life and full of characters whose human frailties can be ameliorated by a central character; a virtuous woman working away quietly amongst them. The story is a good one, once the reader gets used to the writing style and has got further into the novel than the story setting it becomes a page turner. So much to enjoy, a fabulous reading experience and five stars.

[mrsrk-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

(Contain spoilers.) I firmly believe no librarian ever read Mansfield Park, otherwise Lord Bertram’s burning all the copies of Lover’s Vows he found would have banished it from libraries! (Chuckle) This book has all Miss Austin’s talented penmanship, but very little—or nothing, rather—of the comic situations I found in Pride and Prejudice and most especially in Emma. This is a deeper, more serious novel, highly moralizing, with lots of inner thoughts and questionings, which sometimes might get a bit long to the modern reader unused to this kind of literature. Through this book—as in all her others—she makes very clear what she expected (not only society), that “girls should be quiet and modest” and “perfectly feminine.” She condemned, on people in general, the “want of that higher species of self-command, that just consideration of others.” In the story 10 year-old Fanny Price, goes to live with her wealthy uncle and aunt, Lord and Lady Bertram, in their beautiful and tranquil estate of Mansfield Park. There she meets four cousins, two girls and two boys, of which, second son, the mature and highly honorable Edmund, becomes her ideal since the beginning. (Edmund was not a priest, but was ordained a couple of chapters before the end of the book.) The story evolves through ups and downs, lots of misunderstandings, to culminate in a happy ending. Unlike what is portrayed in movies inspired by Mansfield Park, Fanny is not treated unkindly, nor relegated to a dungeon-like room. Her sleeping quarters were a “little white attic” with connection to the old “school-room” which contained her plants, her books—of which she had been a collector from the first hour of her commanding a shilling—her writing desk, and her works of charity.” The lack of fire in that room was due to her Aunt Norris constant meddling and a shocked Lord Bertrand belatedly corrects this injurious situation. British society was then divided into classes and Fanny, while enjoying much of the benefits of living with the family, belonged to a very poor branch—hence the differed treatment she received. “If tenderness could be ever supposed wanting, good sense and good breeding supplied its place,” Jane Austen writes about the Bertrand family in relation to Fanny. Miss Austen’s high moral standards permeate the entire book, it is full of Fanny’s eagerness to do what is right and proper, to think good thoughts and do good deeds. Good and evil were clearly discerned and exposed in the situations Austen weaves; the elopement of a married woman with a bachelor is to her a “sin of the first magnitude.” I feel sure Jane Austen, whose heroines were invariably highly principled, moral young women, would have been devastated had she a chance to see the state of today’s youth, particularly of girls. I only wish young women would read more of this kind of literature instead of the filth available now in all American libraries.

[antao-3 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

"Here's harmony!" said she; "here's repose! Here's what may leave all painting and all music behind, and what poetry only can attempt to describe! Here's what may tranquilize every care, and lift the heart to rapture! When I look out on such a night as this, I feel as if there could be neither wickedness nor sorrow in the world; and there certainly would be less of both if the sublimity of Nature were more attended to, and people were carried more out of themselves by contemplating such a scene."In “Mansfield Park” by Jane AustenMany eons ago I was reading Austen's "Mansfield Park" in high school when the leader of a group of teenagers commented on the "puff with the specs reading girlie books." I paid him no mind at that particular moment. I waited till I could catch him alone in the playground without his bunch of cronies around him. I asked him then if he'd care to repeat what he'd said before. He said he didn't. The old adage you can't judge a book by its cover surely applies to the title as well. What's next? Nick Hornby's "About a Boy" should only appeal to paedophiles? "Animal Farm" to sheep-shaggers (or more accurately pig-shaggers). Such immature, hating comments belong in the 1970s.My favourite books? "Jane Eyre", "Madame Bovary" and "Sister Wendy's Book of Saints" are in my top 100. And, yes, I am male. And yes, I would happily walk into a crowded bookshop and order the aforementioned books without feeling emasculated. Personally I am not sure the supposed "girly" title of a book has ever made me sneak up to the counter ashamedly to buy the book, nor has an overtly "mannish" title made be puff out my chest and slam in down on the counter. It seems a long time ago now since such base gender divisions have mattered. With the rise of the metro-sexual, moisturising cream and Russell Brand dictating what half of London wears, I just can't think that a lot of modern men would be concerned by a title such as "Persuasion", or "Emma". Not enough to not consider reading past the title and at least having a glance at the back cover anyhow. If I think back, I was never embarrassed to read a "girly" title on the tube and they were the formative years of my teens. However, at the time, I also had long hair, Doc Martens and listened to Queensrÿche. I am man. I eat meat, sleep and breed. I don't like pink and I don't like art galleries. I like football. - We don't all think like this, just a few men but don't worry these men don't read books, they read glossy magazines at the dentist. So next time someone grunts when you offer him two titles, don't entertain his masculinity - he'll only like that. Instead point him to the magazine rack. There'll he can read Zoo to his hearts content.To see Jane Austen's novel as romantic rubbish is pretty short-sighted. On the surface some readers may be right but what she really was writing about was the society she lived in and how it worked. It's a depiction of her reality and in many instances, and it's also critique of that world. Not in your face but most her novels have a strong ironic tone. She wrote novels of behaviour and about society in the early 1800s. People misunderstand her books because she paints on such a small canvas. It's like comparing a jewelled miniature by Nicholas Hilliard to a huge Titian canvas, full of life and swagger. The small scale makes it easy to overlook things or to misunderstand them, but in fact there's an awful lot more going on in an Austen book than meets the casual eye. I like Fanny Price, although she's not a character I'd like to have a cuppa with but a great one to read about. I always admired her for refusing Henry Crawford without spilling the beans. Fanny Price is not "prim". Repressed and dutiful certainly. There is a different word beginning with "p" that describes her to a tee: petrified. She knows she isn't a full member of the family, hence her repression and dutifulness, and at all times feels and is made to feel that she could be dismissed back to her parents' over full house at a moments notice. That is why I believe she opposes and is expected to oppose the staging of the play while her uncle is away. In a sense she has been trained to be the guardian, governess and companion but never the full complete member of the household. Emma, though is a prize cow, a big fish in a little pond and I always skip her in my annual Jane Austen re-read.NB: I like football. But I'm a rugger at heart.

[tineoliver_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I should preface this review by saying I love Jane Austen - and perhaps I gave MP an extra star than it was really worth just on this basis. Although some would say that's a reason to dislike MP, it's Austen's linguistic style that I appreciate most in her works.Fanny Price is an interesting character in the context of Austen's other novels, particularly when considered with reference to Elizabeth Bennet, or the self assured Ms Dashwoods. Fragile, unsure and immature, I found Fanny in some respects the most three dimensional and 'real' of Austen's heroines. I also appreciate that, despite significant opposition from her aunt, she is loved in spite of her lowly birth, perhaps even more loved than her respectable cousins.The difficulty I have with the novel is that I saw the ending as a fait accompli right from the beginning of the novel - and while this is also true of Pride and Prejudice - the narrative appears to be missing something in the narrative structure to compensate.

[mariesreads · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE this story. If I had more leisure time to read, it would have been more enjoyable. It, or the language I should say, is quite florid. It was pretty language but a bit much at times. I'm no writer but I believe I oculd have said in 2 or 3 pages what Jane Austen said in 6...though not as beautifully of course.I'm glad I read it though. Fanny Price and Edmond Bertram are great examples of what a human being should be. Everybody else just needs a good spanking!...okay except of course for William and Susan.

[libbeth · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I read this book way back in 1982 and to be honest, gave it 5 stars purely because I remember loving all Jane Austen but I can't actually remember the story. One to re-read I think.

[thatotter-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed this, though I wasn't as drawn in by the characters as I usually am while reading this type of book. I found Edmund a bit of a dolt in the Edward Ferrars mold.

The great thing about Austen for me is that you know you are in safe hands as a reader--things always work out well for the righteous and poorly for the guilty. Very satisfying!

[ricefun · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

My favorite Austen novel - and that is saying a lot. I read Austen experimenting with the darker side of human experience in Mansfield Park more than in her other novels. The characters are required to touch the messiness of life more akin to "romantic" stories. Fanny Price is a bit passive for my taste in a heroine, I prefer an Elizabeth Bennet, but the family dynamics and the cultural commentary in Mansfield Park draw me in more than any other Austen novel.

[elbakerone · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Mansfield Park is by no means the best Jane Austen work I've encountered, but I still view it as a valuable piece of literature. Austen once again excels at the task of conveying her message through her characters. In this work, the reader is introduced to Fanny Price - a young woman of high character and low finances - who is raised in the household of her cousins, the Bertrams - who are wealthy but lack Fanny's high morals. The contrast of Fanny and her female cousins paints Austen's oft used theme of character versus class and sensibility versus stature. Meanwhile Fanny's cousin Edmund (the object of her affections) teaches the lesson of the blindness of "love" as he relentlessly pursues a woman who is, in Fanny's eyes at least, entirely wrong for him. I found Mansfield Park to be a good story but a bit difficult to read in terms of the pacing of the book. Many chapters went by with little story development only to have the denouement contain many rushed plot points that I craved further details about. Nevertheless, Austen's recipe ingredients of honorable young women, unrequited love, faithless cads in the disguise of noble suitors, and true love in the end still built an enjoyable book that I am happy to have read.

[gracez-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book had me hooked, right up until the end, when I was disappointed in the summarizing aspects of the narrative. It felt so much less passionate and real than Austen's other books do. Right up until the end, though, I really loved it.

[sturlington_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fanny Price realizes that if she just does nothing for long enough, all her dreams will eventually come true.I'm working my way through Austen's novels. This is the next-to-last I have to read, and I really enjoyed it. It was a mature, multi-layered story that completely drew me in. While I can't say that I particularly liked any of the characters, I really felt like I got to know them well, as people. There was no perfect man, no Mr. Knightley or Mr. Darcy to swoon over. These were more like real people, warts and all, many of them growing up quite painfully. Along with Persuasion, Mansfield Park struck me as a one of Austen's more psychological novels. Oh yes, it's also funny, and cutting, and there are some shocking bits toward the end. A rewarding read.Listened to on audiobook in 2015.

[maryanntherese · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Jane Austen's sweeping tale of the coming of age of Fanny Price, a poor girl sent to live with wealthy relations.

[jbd1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

My third Austen novel so far, and the one I've liked the least. All the characters are absolutely one-note, and even though there are moments of real spark as in the previous books I've read, they are few(er) and far(ther) between. It's not until the last fifty pages or so that the novel manages to pick up in pace and excitement, and by then I just wanted to know what misery was going to get served up to all the terrible people who'd been dishing it out for several hundred pages.

[julieschwei · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Although this is a fine Jane Austen novel with plenty of social satire, Fanny Price is not nearly as charming or engaging as some of Austen's other heroines.

[arleblanc6 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really enjoyed reading this book. The only problem is that i thought the ending was rushed, but other then that this book was very good. Ms. Austen has a way with words.

[mbmackay · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

You can see why Jane Austen is a star - she has such wonderfully developed characters that are so shrewdly observed and described to be compelling and believable across the centuries. While the plot events relate to a particular time, place and social setting; the busybody, the careful thinker, the gruff but caring father, and all the rest of the cast can be readily seen among the people we live with today. Mansfield Park has a more interesting plot line than Pride and Prejudice & Sense and Sensibility, dealing with the results of the poor cousin brought up with rich relatives. Lovely. (Read January 2011.)

[hrissliss · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the third time I've read this, and I like it more each time. The first time, I hated it. Since, I've been trying to understand why (since I've liked/loved every other Austen novel I've read) and it's amazing, how Austen manages social critique without looking like that's what she's doing. I hesitated to label her subversive before (for her time period), but now...anyway, highly recommend. 9/10

[aiufjcf · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book is a little darker and complex than Austin's usual. The story is very engaging.

[pussreboots · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I've found that audio books are the best way for me to listen to and actually finish a Jane Austen novel. I chose Mansfield Park first on a bit of a whim. In Jane Bites Back by Michael Thomas Ford, Jane says her favorite heroine is Fanny Price. Curious to see why vampire Jane might feel that way, I decided to start there.Mansfield Park is Austen's third novel. It opens with Fanny Price, age ten, being sent to live with her wealthy cousins at Mansfield Park. Though she is the most quiet and best behaved, she is forever treated as an inferior and an outsider, especially by Mrs. Norris, the middle sister of the three adult sisters who make up Fanny's family (mother and two aunts).It was not through Fanny, that I found my connection with the novel. Instead, it was Mrs. Norris. She is the prototype for Hyacinth Bucket of Keeping Up Appearances. From there I couldn't help but continue to draw comparisons between the novel and the television comedy.If Mrs. Norris is Mrs. Bucket, then Fanny is from Daisy's side of the family. She is sent, then, to Violet, the wealthy and successful sister. Of course Hyacinth's family is far more dysfunctional than Fanny's but there's still some odd ball family dynamics.

[ravingraven_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Mansfield Park is only bested by Pride and Prejudice. Truly one of Austen's better works. Even the fact that the male protagonist is at times unbearably weak does not detract from the greatness of this book.

[thornton37814 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is the story of Fanny Price who, although her parents are still alive, is taken to live with her aunts, the sisters Bertram, and other family members at Mansfield Park. It shows the relationships to her family members and to their friends in the gentile society, but it also depicts the loudness of her parents and siblings in contrast to the others. Fanny had a bit of an independent streak for a woman in Edwardian England as evidenced by her refusal to marry Henry Crawford. Her ability to stick to that conviction shows the a character strength. *** [SPOILER ALERT: In the final analysis, it also shows that she was a good judge of character.] *** I cannot say that I really found any of the characters that likeable. The plot seemed overly long for the story contained in its pages.

[bleached_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Another great Jane Austen novel. The depth of her characters never cease to amaze me. The entire time I was left wondering whether Fanny would fall for the devious Mr. Crawford or stick to her guns.

[xicanti_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A young woman of good morals but low social stature goes to live with her wealthy, improper relations.I'm still rather conflicted on this book. I initially found it to be rather slow and more than a little mean. While Austen's other books all have overriding concerns that drive the action, this one seems more cruel than anything else. Fanny, (undoubtedly Austen's least-loved heroine), is looked down upon, reviled and generally undervalued by her entire family. Austen presents Fanny's cousins and friends as cruelly shallow instead of humorously so, as is her usual wont. It grated on me. I didn't care about poor, timid, morally-upright Fanny and I actively disliked her relations.And yet, I found it absolutely fascinating, from a social standpoint. Critics describe this novel as Austen's reaction to the social changes England was undergoing at the time. The world was becoming a slightly less formal place, at least within upper class circles. Austen contrasts this changing environment with that in which Fanny's birth family resides, and the lower class, informal folks most definitely come off the worse in the exchange. The novel presents impropriety and informality - even in such a simple form as stage acting - as something that can lead people astray in the most horrific, (ie, sexual), fashions. Fanny, who regards even something as strong as her love for Edmund with a disinterested eye, embodies this fading society. She refuses to allow herself to be ruled by her passions, and she will not stray from the rigid moral code that forms the backbone of her world.The novel provided me with a great deal of food for thought. I had a great time mulling it over and thinking about how Austen's thesis applies to my own society. I can't say as I agree with her, in a broader sense, but she certainly did provide us all with a fascinating look at this changing world.And, deeper issues aside, Austen's trademark language makes the book a delight to read from a purely aesthetic standpoint. Every sentence is so wonderfully ornate. Her writing twists and turns and goes in and out in these beautiful, complex ways... but at the end of the sentence, she's said something wonderfully simple. I love it.This isn't the best of Austen's works, but it's certainly worth your time. Even if you dislike it, it has great rewards for anyone inclined to think about where Austen's going with these unlikeable characters and their world.