Femme Malheureuse Wrote: (excerpted, see her full comment in this thread)
-------------------------------------------------------
> What would
you have done, gentlemen, in
> Bingley's shoes?
>
> I don't think men have changed all that much in
> 200 years. Men of wealth without professions,
> whose time is not eaten up by requirements of wage
> earning, still occupy themselves in:
>
> — sports (ex. Four Horse and other riding clubs,
> horse racing, Angelo's)
> — gaming
> — investment opportunities and subsequent
> management of same (ex. buying and selling of
> shares in businesses like East India Trading Co,
> business loans, buying into funds including the
> government's fund)
> — events and venues (theater, opera, museums,
> art shows, festivals, etc.)
> — socialization with other men (clubs like
> Brooks', White's, Boodle's, coffee houses,
> literary or merchants’ clubs)
> — socialization with women (both public and
> private in nature), and in mixed sex environments
> (parties, balls, soirees
> — politics where appropriate and where interest
> encourage (land holdings and capital-intensive
> investments would have been inducements)
>
Quote
Source: Chap. 25, Pride and Prejudice,
> Jane Austen
>
> "I hope," added Mrs. Gardiner, "that no
> consideration with regard to this young man will
> influence her. We live in so different a part of
> town, all our connections are so different, and,
> as you well know, we go out so little, that it is
> very improbable that they should meet at all,
> unless he really comes to see her."
>
> "And that is quite impossible; for he is now in
> the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy would
> no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part
> of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of
> it? Mr. Darcy may perhaps have heard of such a
> place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly
> think a month's ablution enough to cleanse him
> from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and
> depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without
> him."
>
>
> "In the custody" suggests Bingley is in residence
> at Darcy's townhouse, in my opinion, as does the
> implication the two men are nearly joined at the
> hip.
Well, I would have spent a lot of time reading--and probably, pining. But I am a nerd, and I have learned to accept my nature.
Bingley does not seem to me to be a nerd (certainly not in the Mary Bennet mode, a character who proves Austen can write nerds with the best of them). To me, he seems to be a sweet, not particularly complicated but probably reasonably principled, young man. With his money, any range of courtesans and the like would have been available to assuage his longings. Did he frequent such ladies of the evening, perhaps seeking out buxon blondes who could allow him to fantasize that he was with the incomparable Jane Bennet?
I don't think so.
I think he probably pined. Thought about Jane, and regretted that he had not rang her chimes. At least, that is what Darcy told him. I suspect that as time went on, his pining became more intense, and he began to wish there was some way...
some way! Even if he sought out substitutes, they would only remind him that they could never be Jane.
You see, Mallie, men can be quite romantic, too. I daresay, men are more romantic than women. It's perfectly acceptable for a woman to recognize reasonable and practical attributes -- like, he is a good provider, and he seems to have a even temper (won't go into fits and beat me.) But men are expected to go into flights of fancy about how sweet, how quirky, how darned cute, she is. Generally, men love women because they are soft and cuddly--and perhaps, smart, too, but a smart woman who is ugly, mean and truly ill-tempered? No, she is not a romantic object.
So, Jane Bennet was an romantic object, and time away from her only made the poor Bingley's heart grow fonder. He might have thought he could walk away and forget her, and the time away only provided more opportunity to pine.
Is he a wimp for that reason? Maybe. But men can be wimps sometimes. Come on, guys, admit it! Or, is it only me? (blanching in horror, and then blushing like a tomato).
