Day 28: 'Mansfield Park: An Annotated Edition'

If you like: "Wives and Daughters," Anthony Trollope, nice girls who come in first.

Author Jane Austen; edited Deidre Shauna Lynch; Belknap Press.

Poor Fanny does not have much of a chance in a tournament of Jane Austen heroines.

She's sickly, has no self confidence, is overly earnest, and for all intents and purposes, is used as a doormat. And her name is Fanny.

Even Austen's mother called the character "insipid."

It's why the last two movie adaptations of "Mansfield Park" took some liberties. It's obvious that modern writers are more in love with the character of Mary Crawford, who I think even Gillian Anderson calls a more Austen-ish character than Fanny during the Masterpiece Theatre intro.

Mary is witty and full of life, especially when compared to the heroine.

So maybe it's a perverse desire to be contrary that keeps bringing me back to "Mansfield Park."

Or maybe it's the mystery -- I always feel like there's something fascinating below the surface, and every time I read the book, I get a little better idea of what it is.

The story is this: Fanny's aunt marries well, while her mother does not. With lots of kids and a husband who is not interested in feeding a lot of kids, Fanny's mother sends her daughter to live with her well-to-do relatives in Mansfield Park.

Fanny grows up not quite a servant but not quite a family member. It's when the charming Crawford siblings show up in the neighborhood that people start to go down unexpected paths. Mary becomes Fanny's rival in love (well, would-be rival, if Fanny ever tried throwing her hat in the ring), while her brother collects hearts and breaks them.

Everyone's mettle is tested and it turns out that while Fanny can be made to run errands or sacrifice her own pleasures, she sees exactly what's going on at Mansfield Park. And just because she can bend doesn't mean she'll break under pressure.

"Fanny knew her own meaning, but was no judge of her own manner. Her manner was incurably gentle, and she was not aware how much it concealed the sternness of her purpose."

It's an interesting balance for Austen to keep. Fanny has some of the trappings of saintliness that Dickens sometimes employs in his feminine paragons, but there's layers. When Austen is praised for writing psychological novels, I see it in this book.

But I didn't realize how many layers there are until I read the annotated edition, edited by Deidre Shauna Lynch.

For one thing, the notes help add historical context, like explaining the rules of a public ball and why it's a red flag when an almost-engaged character chooses to use them to her own advantage.

But the Lynch annotations also provide some critical context.

I like how it plays out in this passage:

Fanny is sitting at a window with the guy she has a crush on, talking about the landscape at night, and how no matter what's wrong in her life, nature can always make things right. He agrees and asks her if she wants to go stargazing. Of course she does, but then the other guests, including Mary Crawford, start a singalong.

"The glee began. 'We will stay until this is finished, Fanny,' said he, turning his back on the window, and as it advanced, she had the mortification of seeing him advance too, moving forward by gentle degrees towards the instrument, and when it ceased, he was close by the singers, among the most urgent in requesting to hear the glee again.

Fanny sighed alone at the window till scolded away by Mrs. Norris's threats of catching cold."

This passage is universal to anyone who, say, has ever been a teenager.

But there's more going on there than I realized, bringing down the heroine from her ivory tower.

As Lynch writes, heroines drawing strength from nature no matter what perilous situation they found themselves in was a common device for Gothic novel writer Ann Radcliffe. But, for Fanny: "Despite her portrayal as a figure of firm religious conviction, Fanny is not the paragon that a Radcliffe heroine is: Fanny's faith can be derailed by her desire."

Of course, I had never seen the humor in Fanny giving a speech on how fortifying an appreciation of nature can be (a speech that is often quoted from this book when people are looking for inspirational Austen quotes) only for it to immediately not work.

It's not like Austen is making fun of those heroines, "Northanger Abbey" does that more, but she's writing a story about someone who is trying her best to live honorably.

Lynch makes a case that Austen didn't intend for this to be an easy novel, but since this is Jane Austen, Fanny does get her happy ending.

"Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery," the author says.

There is another annotated edition of "Mansfield Park," but I highly recommend the Lynch version. Not only are the notes illuminating, but the paper has a soft, fancy feel.

"Mansfield Park: An Annotated Edition" by Jane Austen, edited Deidre Shauna Lynch; Belknap Press.