Manners and Miss Austen

What Jane Austen’s Novels Can Teach Us About the Importance of Custom and Courtesy

[Note: This article originally appeared on The Epoch Times: https://www.theepochtimes.com/manners-and-miss-austen-what-jane-austens-novels-can-teach-us-about-the-importance-of-custom-and-courtesy_5215305.html]

Who’s the greatest British writer of all time?

According to a 2022 poll of 2,000 Brits, the answer is Jane Austen.

While we may debate the correctness of this poll’s conclusion (William Shakespeare, anyone?), what’s beyond question is that Austen remains remarkably popular with British and American readers alike—even 200 years after her death. Film and TV adaptations of Austen’s work, for example, have proliferated in recent decades, the latest installment being PBS’s “Sanditon,” a “Jane Austen inspired” TV series. Regency period dramas are perennially appealing to modern audiences.

Austen deserves this high place among British writers. Her wit, elegant prose, and profound study of human character render her a novelist of the highest caliber. In Austen’s analysis of human frailty and frivolity, nastiness and nobility, manners play an important role and offer something unique to contemporary readers. In fact, some of her popularity with people today may be due to the allure of a lost world of civility that her novels depict. Austen shows us the value of gentlemanly and ladylike behavior according to a time-honored tradition. While modern, independent, and equality-minded Americans find intricate rules of etiquette a bit stifling, we seem to be at the same time paradoxically fascinated by them, like a mysterious and beautiful artifact from an antique and exotic land. And with good reason.

Revelation of Character

Manners in Miss Austen’s work can be viewed from a number of angles. In the first place, they’re a tool for the revelation of character. Teenage boys aren’t known for their love of early 1800s romance novels. The last time I taught “Pride and Prejudice” to them, they couldn’t understand why the novel didn’t talk more about the men going out and “doing stuff.” We can understand this objection from a young man who struggles to sit still at his desk for the 45-minute class period. What’s all this about parties and afternoon teas and carriages? How about they go build something or go to war?

But what I try to get my students to focus on is not the (seemingly) arbitrary rules of social interaction, but rather what the characters’ reactions to those rules say about who they are.

Take, for example, the infamous Mr. Wickham in “Pride and Prejudice.” The heroine of the novel, Elizabeth Bennet, is at first charmed and infatuated with Wickham, who turns out later to be no true gentleman, but rather a dastardly rogue. In one of their first interactions, Wickham talks freely about how he was mistreated by Mr. Darcy (which is, of course, untrue). He doesn’t hesitate to speak ill of Darcy in a room with several other people present. This is not only backbiting, it’s bad manners. At the time, Elizabeth convinces herself that Wickham’s openness is refreshing and a sign of honesty, but once she learns the truth about him, her perspective shifts:

“She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation between Wickham and herself, in their first evening at Mr. Phillips’s. Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was now struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and wondered if it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct.”

‘Indelicacy’

“Indelicacy,” that’s the word used to describe Wickham’s behavior. Though his words and actions in that early interaction with Elizabeth weren’t exactly scandalous, they were uncivil, and that was a clue to Wickham’s true character, which Elizabeth failed to perceive at the time. If she had, she might have preserved herself and her family from a lot of heartache later on.

Other examples could be given: Mrs. Bennet’s passive aggression, endless chattering, and lack of subtlety make her, in a word, rude, so much so that Mr. Darcy objects to his friend, Mr. Bingley, marrying into such an indelicate family. The standards of polite society were higher then than they are now, and as grating as Mrs. Bennet can be to us, in the ears of a regency gentleman or lady, her prattling would have been downright intolerable. Enough to call off a wedding, apparently. Mrs. Bennet’s insensitivity to standards of social interaction reveals much about her: that she, in the end, is a pretty willful and selfish individual.

Even some of Austen’s heroines reveal themselves through their manners (or lack thereof). In a famous scene in “Emma,” the titular character makes a little fun of an older woman, Miss Bates, who’s a bit simple. It’s a small offense, but it triggers a crisis moment for Emma and a turning point on her journey to self-knowledge when she is confronted about it by her friend (and future husband), Mr. Knightly. He says:

“Were she [Miss Bates] prosperous, I could allow much for the occasional prevalence of the ridiculous over the good. Were she a woman of fortune, I would leave every harmless absurdity to take its chance, I would not quarrel with you for any liberties of manner. Were she your equal in situation—but, Emma, consider how far this is from being the case. She is poor; she has sunk from the comforts she was born to; and, if she live to old age, must probably sink more. Her situation should secure your compassion. It was badly done, indeed!”

Emma reveals a weakness of character here that goes beyond just this particular social misstep. Her general inconsiderateness of others, her tendency even to treat them as playthings, and her tendency to focus on self lie at the root of the problem that Mr. Knightly here attempts to address.

It’s worth noting, too, that Emma’s insulting behavior is worse because of the inequality of social standing between her and Miss Bates. Interestingly, because Miss Bates comes from a lower class than Emma, Mr. Knightly expects Emma to behave even more civilly toward her, not less. This idea of hierarchy, in which the superior should be extra attentive and considerate toward the inferior, has largely been lost in modern times. Our ideas of class, unfortunately, tend to view higher classes as proud and tyrannical toward lower classes. But Austen shows us that need not be the case and wasn’t always the case historically.

In Miss Austen’s world and in ours, manners can provide a measuring stick with which to assess the quality and integrity of strangers and close acquaintances alike. In a sense, then, rules and customs of social interaction are meant to protect us. It doesn’t take a great leap of imagination to realize that people who defy seemingly small rules of society might not hesitate to defy bigger ones. A violation of courtesy should be a red flag. Wickham, for example, chose to violate the rules of common courtesy when he dragged Darcy’s name through the mud. This was predictive of his willingness to violate some of the most sacred rules of society when, at the climax of the novel, he scandalously runs away with Lydia, devastating her family and potentially destroying her and their reputation forever.

There was a time when manners, courtesy, and kindness—gentlemanly and ladylike behavior—were seen as the bloom of charity. In other words, the little signs of consideration grew out of and pointed toward a deeper respect for the dignity of other human beings. They weren’t, therefore, insignificant, even if they seem a bit stiff and impractical to us now. Austen gives us a valuable glimpse into that time, and valuable lessons for this.