Swipe Right for Fictional Men

I recently sat around the kitchen table with my cousin, discussing which Austen man would be best for each of us. This is a game I can play for hours, as many times as necessary. We went through the merits of each man, and in doing so had to closely examine our own selves and our own hearts and desires. Mr. Darcy is rich and eventually thoughtful, but is he too serious? Edward Ferrars is sweet and attentive, but is he too quiet? What am I looking for?

Of course, they are all good men, and to end up with any of them would be a better match than many. The game, though, got me wondering how most people construct their idea of the partner they want. In an age of hook ups, clearly the men of Austen are not the model of attainment. Captain Wentworth, after all, feels so guilty that he even gave the impression of favoring Louisa Musgrove when he didn’t mean to. He would never have used her physically with no intentions.

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

One could argue that it is actually unhealthy to use fiction to guide reality; that those men don’t really exist, and I am filling my head with stuff and nonsense. Some people put all fictional comparison on a Disney Princess level, as if I am waiting for my [boring/characterless/desperate/rich/etc.] prince to come. However, I would argue that fiction provides an introduction to a variety of different people and personalities, without the heartbreak of having to test them all out in real life. By reading about Mr. Darcy and deciding that he is not the man for me, when in reality I ever meet a Mr. Darcy, I already know that I can simply pass him by. 

Categorizing can be a dangerous, slippery slope, but sometimes it can also be useful. There are obviously more kinds of men in the world then are represented in Jane Austen’s novels, but her work isn’t only about the main characters. What if we were to consider Captains Harville and Benwick, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Gardiner, Henry Crawford and Mr. Willoughby? Although she only has six full novels, she does not only give us six men and six women to aspire to be. She creates whole, rich worlds full of trials, tribulations, and triumphs. She is the great fiction writer of reality. To have perfect men would not be realistic, and therefore would not be good Austen fiction. 

Lizzie Bennet does not immediately know Mr. Darcy is the man for her, and she by no means sees him as perfect. He is not some prince. He is a flawed man, whom she can only come to love after a full knowledge of him and after falling for the depraved Mr. Wickham. Austen’s women are not princesses; they, too, are flawed and complex beings who have to learn how to show love, give love, and be loved. And not just with regard to men, but to their families, their friends, and most importantly, themselves. Lizzie cannot love Mr. Darcy until she fully knows herself.

From Tilney to Tinder

Unfortunately, none of the characters from Jane Austen’s books are going to come alive before me from the page. But maybe that’s a good thing. Choosing one of her men is hard, because I am not exactly one of her women. Rather, a composite of all their good qualities – and bad – can direct me to know what, in a real man, I desire. Maybe the most effective online dating profile would be a clear list of favorite characters and their qualities, so that a person never loses sight of their expectations and desires. We too easily compromise. We live in fear of a state of life like Lera Auerbach’s aphorism: “She’s been imprisoned by her good taste and is serving a life sentence.” However, standards are not the same as perfection, and requirements are not unreasonable. 

We, like Lizzie, need to know ourselves, and one way we come to know ourselves is through reading fiction. So -

Admire me like Darcy; Help me grow like Knightley; Sacrifice for me like Ferrars; 

Respect me like Brandon; Laugh with me like Tilney; Believe in me like Bertram; 

Forgive me like Wentworth.