Pride and Prejudice

If you walked down the gravel paths of Hertfordshire in the year 1813, you would find a world of clip-clop carriages, high-waisted silk dresses, and very strict rules about who could speak to whom. This was the Regency era, and in this world lived a writer named Jane Austen. She was quiet, sharp, and possessed a sense of humor like a small, bright pocket knife, always ready to peel away the grand pretenses of the wealthy, to show the silly human truths underneath. She began her famous book, Pride and Prejudice, with these words. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. But to Mrs. Bennett, the loudest mother in the county, this wasn't just a truth, it was a matter of survival. She and her husband lived at Longbourn with their five daughters. Because of a legal rule called an entail, Mr. Bennett's estate could only go to a male heir. When he died, a distant male cousin would inherit everything, leaving the five Bennett girls, Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, penniless. The only way to secure their future was to marry well, meaning every wealthy bachelor was a potential rescue boat. "My dear Mr. Bennett," Mrs. Bennett cried one morning, her curls shaking with excitement as she burst into her husband's library. "Have you heard? Netherfield Park is let at last. A young man of large fortune has taken it. Four or 5,000 a year. What a fine thing for our girls." Mr. Bennett, a sarcastic man who spent his life escaping his wife's noisy nerves, looked up from his book. "How so? How can it affect them?" "How can you be so tiresome?" she groaned. "You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them." Of the five sisters, the eldest two were the family pride. Jane was beautiful, and so sweet she could not believe anyone had bad intentions. Elizabeth, the second sister, had bright, dark eyes, a quick wit, and a habit of laughing at things other people took very seriously. While Jane looked for the best in everyone, Elizabeth prided herself on seeing exactly who people were at first sight. Soon, the neighborhood gathered at a ball in Maryton to welcome the new neighbor, Mr. Bingley. The room was a blur of candlelight, white muslin dresses, and the lively scraping of fiddles. Mr. Bingley was handsome, easygoing, and completely charmed by Jane. He danced with her twice, practically a declaration of love in those days. But Bingley had not come alone. Walking just behind him was his friend, Mr. Darcy. A hush fell as Darcy entered, tall, noble, and worth 10,000 pounds a year. But by the end of the evening, his fortune was forgotten. Everyone agreed he was the most disagreeable, proud man in existence. He stood in the corner, looking down his long nose, refusing to dance with anyone outside his own party. When Elizabeth was resting, Bingley tried to drag Darcy into the fun. "Come, Darcy," Bingley said. "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner." "I certainly shall not," Darcy replied, his cool voice carrying over the music. "There is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with. But there is Jane Bennett's sister, Elizabeth," Bingley said, gesturing toward her. "She is very pretty." Darcy turned, his cold eyes sweeping over Elizabeth. "She is tolerable," he said coldly, "but not handsome enough to tempt me, and I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men." Elizabeth's cheeks burned at the public insult, but instead of crying, she felt a sudden spike of amusement. She found the absolute absurdity of this giant, wealthy snob so funny that she immediately told her friends, laughing at her own rejection. She decided right then that Mr. Darcy was a monster of pride, and Elizabeth was very proud of her own ability to judge a character at first sight. Within a few weeks, two new men entered…

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