Showing posts with label stubborn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stubborn. Show all posts

Friday, 7 August 2020

Jane Austen’s Persuasion and the Moral of Persuasion as a Virtue


Persuasion is a story about Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth who were in love eight and a half years ago.  Her friend Lady Russel persuades Anne that it's not wise to marry a penniless naval officer when she is only 19, so she refuses Frederick.  Eight and a half years later Anne's father has spent so much money they must move to Bath and rent out Kellynch Hall to tenants.  Admiral and Mrs. Croft, the sister of the now wealthy Captain Frederick Wentworth become the tenants of Kellynch Hall.  It's a story about pride, choices, persuasion, and second chances.  Or perhaps even third chances.  It's moving, emotional, and mature in a way that appeals to those of us who have lived through some difficult choices, that is to say, lived.

Part of the charm of this story, and one might argue, every Austen story, is the thoughtful way it deals with flawed traits.  A casual observer might say that Anne is flawed because she is too weak-willed, too willing to be persuaded to other points of view.  In fact, Frederick believes it at first when he is still bitter about being refused.  However, as the story progresses it becomes increasingly clear that persuasion, like any trait, has its good sides.  A person's strength is often their weakness.  So the story goes about telling us how the weakness of Anne at 19 is actually her strength at a more mature age.

The story of Persuasion tells us repeatedly that being capable of being persuaded to see reason and amend one's own position based on logic and rationale is a good thing, even when it has difficult consequences.  Those characters who cannot be persuaded to be sensible, who act only on feelings, end up feeling the consequences in visibly negative ways.  People who can't be persuaded end up: insolvent because they can't be persuaded to spend money wisely (like Sir Walter), friendless because they cannot be persuaded to see value in people outside of social rank and flattery (like Elizabeth), severely injured because they cannot be persuaded that their ideas are foolish and dangerous (like Louisa), or even alone because they cannot be persuaded to overcome their pride (like Captain Wentworth at first).


Persuasion as a Force of Good


Sir Walter judging the appearance of a naval man
At every turn success and well-being of the characters comes with the ability to be persuaded to see and act rationally.  Sir Walter and Elizabeth enjoy better society in Bath once they are persuaded to go there to live more cheaply and attempt to pay their debts.  Captain Benwick is able to rejoin the happy and lively world of the future once he is persuaded that he should read more prose and should think of moving forward now, not living solely in the past.  Only after he realizes that he must, does he find Louisa agreeable enough to pursue and marry.  Anne is persuaded that the Elliot pride is directly hindering her happiness and starts to act against it by fighting to maintain friendships her family does not approve of and ultimately trying to show Captain Wentworth her feelings.  Captain Wentworth is persuaded to overcome his pride and finally pursue Anne in Bath, and it is from that decision that his happiness ultimately stems.

Persuasion can be a moderating force.  It can help you balance out your tendencies towards pride, towards vanity, towards making rash decisions.  It can help encourage good behavior and ameliorate foolish ideas.  No person is without flaws.  This is part of the reason why it is important to have intelligent people around you who want good things for you.  These friends can help you balance out mistakes and misunderstandings with different perspectives and smooth out flaws in yourself with their influence, their persuasion.

Persuasion as a Portion of Duty - Material Considerations

At the heart of the story is that first act of persuasion by Lady Russel, which led Anne to be persuaded by duty and logic not to accept Captain Wentworth when she was only 19 and he was a young penniless naval officer.  Some people and adaptations think this was a bad thing, but Jane Austen tells us it was not.  Anne doesn't regret being persuaded to not accept Captain Wentworth when they were so young and he was penniless.  I think both Anne and Lady Russel were aware that Elizabeth was not likely to make a good match, none of the daughters were going to inherit the estate, they weren't even on speaking terms with the heir.  They had no dowry, considering that Sir Walter had spent every penny and was in shocking piles of debt.  It looked as though Anne would have to marry well to be safe and possibly care for her sisters once Sir Walter had gone.  Was it fair that she was therefore persuaded that love was not enough?  No.  But it was a very rational choice at the time.  Even if he had been prosperous straight off, if he had died immediately (a possibility in a war), she would have been left a widow.  We see in both Mrs. Clay and Mrs. Smith, both widowed very young, that such a situation leaves the women vulnerable and leads to some difficult choices for them.

  And Anne says that she considered it a duty to Lady Russel who she considered a mother figure, to listen to her advice in that matter.  She did not regret being persuaded in that case.  Anne tells Wentworth "I was perfectly right in being guided" by Lady Russell "to me, she was in the place of a parent.  I am not saying that she did not err in her advice." Only that "I was right in submitting to her, and that if I had done otherwise I should have suffered more in continuing the engagement than I did even in giving it up because I should have suffered in my conscience.  I have now, as far as such a sentiment is allowable in human nature, nothing to reproach myself with; and if I mistake not, a strong sense of duty is no bad part of a woman's portion".

Being persuaded not to accept Captain Wentworth before he had made any money was a wise decision at the moment that is was made at the behest of a person she considered a mother figure.  She regretted that it had kept them apart after Frederick had returned with money and a promising future in the navy, but not that she had been persuaded those eight and half years ago.  The reason this novel feels like it has a more adult perspective is because it is many ways concerned with analysing past choices and learning from previous mistakes, a thing all adults must do to grow.  It is possible to look back and think that a decision was the right one at the time but also regret what it's current consequences are.  To be able to say you were glad that you were guided by your parent figure, Lady Russel, but also that you know her advice was wrong.  And to blame neither yourself nor her.  That's a very difficult thing to do but is a part of having an older perspective on life.

Persuasion vs. Pride/Stubbornness 

As with all Jane Austen novels, this story has a subtlety and a nuance that I love.  It does not advocate for anyone to constantly be persuaded out of the things they want and should do, nor to be incapable of being persuaded to do the right things against what your current desires may be.  Jane Austen, this story demands that a balance of these qualities is necessary.

Captain Wentworth almost loses Anne because his hurt pride leads him to stubbornly not reach out to her when he returns that first year with money enough to keep her.  After they have finally reconnected at the end of the book he admits to her that it was pride that had prevented him from writing to her when he had a few thousand pounds a ship under his command.  They both realize they could have avoided the last few years of misery and separation if he had done so.

Captain Wentworth nearly loses Anne again when his pride, still hurt, eight and half years later, leads him to court Louisa.  He only learns his lesson when, at Lyme, he realizes that Louisa and her whole family are expecting him to offer Louisa marriage as soon as she is well.  He says he removes himself from Lyme to allow her to heal and lessen her attachment as much as is honourable.  But he was willing to marry her against his wishes because it was the right thing to do.  If the whole family expects an engagement, he is toying with Louisa's reputation and that is unpardonable because it could affect her chances for a happy future.  The moment he realizes he must balance his desires against the realities of his actions is the moment he grows as a character.  Luckily, Louisa and Captain Benwick become attached during her recovery and Frederick is free to pursue Anne as he wishes, swallow his pride, and come to find her in Bath.

Anne and Henrietta show different sides of the same decision.  Henrietta was almost persuaded by Mary's nonsense that she shouldn't marry Henry Hayter.  Jane Austen sets this up as an example of being too weak-willed and gentle.  She is not being persuaded against Henry Hayter for good and logical reasons.  Henrietta is being persuaded out of Mary's unreasonable dislike of him, and a foolish desire to continue flirting and being flattered with Captain Wentworth who is so dashing and charming and new.  She ought to have stuck to her purpose when there was no logical reason to be persuaded otherwise.  She learns this in time to win back her intended.  Then there is Louisa who is a foil to Anne.  She is too stubborn and heedless to be persuaded of anything.  This is a character trait that first attracts Captain Wentworth who is trying to forget Anne by courting someone completely unlike her.  Louisa who is too stubborn to even see reason (let alone propriety and duty) ends up unconscious on a pier, nearly dead because of it.

For Anne, being persuaded to give up Frederick at 19, was the right choice.  However, when they meet again, she is too proud to express her feelings, as is he and they suffer through a few more things before it all works out in the end.

Finding the Balance

When Anne and Captain Wentworth are reconciled and together at the end of the book he tells her how he finally had begun to see Anne's true character at Lyme when he had occasion to witness what being far too stubborn could be dangerous.   Captain Wentworth describes Anne as being the "loveliest medium of fortitude and gentleness"  At Lyme, he says he had "learnt to distinguish between the steadiness of principle and the obstinacy of self-will, between darings of heedlessness and the resolution of a collected mind. There he had seen everything to exalt in his estimation the woman he had lost; and there begun to deplore the pride, the folly, the madness of resentment, which had kept him from trying to regain her when thrown in his way."  Anne was in that elusive middle ground between firmness of character and capable of being guided.

Jane Austen urges us to consider that it is the middle ground that is ideal.  Being capable of sticking to your purpose but also knowing when logic must prevail over feelings.  Having both learned their lessons, Anne and Wentworth are now adults who have addressed some of their flaws and are ready to enter into a healthy relationship.  Anne learned that she must be more firm in her purpose now that she is an adult and refuses to be persuaded into marrying Mr. Elliot or from canceling her plans to visit Mrs. Smith for an impromptu visit of the Dalrymples.  Captain Wentworth learned that his pride and stubbornness were preventing him from being happy and he learns to act less on his surface emotions and more on rational plans to pursue his own real happiness.  Jane Austen argues the couple is happier for being reunited, "more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge of each other's character, truth, and attachment; more equal to act, more justified in acting."  We know that Anne and Frederick have grown as people and will have a very happy marriage indeed.

More Jane Austen Please!

If you are interested in more discussion of Jane Austen, I have more for you.

For a start, you can see my ranking of every movie adaptation of Persuasion on this page here.

And if that's not enough don't worry you can see my discussions of the movie adaptations of all the other Jane Austen novels and even, a mad attempt at ranking them all together.  Why did I do this?  I think I must be crazy.  Oh wait, we already knew this.  Anyway...

To see my ranking of Every Jane Austen Adaptation, go here.
To see my ranking of all the Pride and Prejudice adaptations you can go here.
To see my ranking of all the Emma Adaptations you can go here.
To see my ranking of all the Sense and Sensibility adaptations you can go here.
To see my ranking of all the Mansfield Park Adaptations you can go here.
To see my ranking of all the Northanger Abbey Adaptations you can go here.
For my discussion of the Lady Susan Adaptation (Love and Friendship), you can go here
To see my ranking of all the "Not-Quite-Austen's" you can go here.


I have a whole page dedicated to Jane Austen where you can find my rankings of different movie adaptations and essays etc.

Wednesday, 18 September 2019

In Defense of a Murder of Crows

I read an article today that denounced the phrase Murder of Crows in particular and all other "absurd" words for groups of animals. While I accept that some of these terms, venery, dating from the Middle Ages, may in fact be antiquated I had several points at which I did not agree with the article. If you are interested you may find the original article here.
The first question Mr. Nicholas Lund asks is whether anyone actually uses these terms, because he contends that he has never heard them used. I've not going to sit here and argue that everyone uses all the plural animal nouns all the time.  However, if the author has never heard any grouping words for animals used aside from flock and herd, I would say he hasn't been talking to enough people in the world. I've heard plenty of them used by real people in all seriousness including the following terms: 

· Bats: colony 
· Bees: hive, swarm 
· Camels: caravan, train, or herd 
· Crows: murder 
· Dogs: litter (of puppies), pack (in the wild), 
· Dolphins: pod 
· Geese: gaggle 
· Lions: pride 
· Porpoises: pod, school 
· Prairie dogs: colonies 
· Rabbits: colony, nest, warren 
· Whales: pod 
· Wolves: pack 
· Vipers: nest 

Now, I agree that are some incredibly odd terms for specific animals are not used in normal parlance. I admit that I've never heard someone refer to a collective group of bears as a sleuth or rhinos as a stubbornness. But then, I also don't live in a place where I run into wild groups of rhinos. If I was late to work because a group of rhinos parked themselves in the road I could reasonably call them a stubbornness because it would describe the belligerent way that they collectively made my morning more difficult. Luckily, that has never happened to me in the Southwestern United States. But I have personally referred to bees as a hive and swarm, and geese as a gaggle, and crows as a murder, and I've heard plenty of other people do so. 

A small murder perched on a wire. - "Evening chat" by -Niloy- is licensed under CC BY 2.0 

Mr. Lund tries to argue that scientists don't use them and therefore nobody really does. That's simply not an accurate sampling of the population. It might prove that scientists don't use those terms but it doesn't answer his posed question: 

Are there actual people in the real world who use special group names for certain species? Or is there just one nerd in an office somewhere with a field guide in one hand and a dictionary in the other, matching each species with a cute little term and laughing maniacally when the world collectively coos over the pairing? 

After he proves that scientists don't use terms of venery he claims that they exist only in the "world of bar trivia," where, "without real-world applications" they are "just morsels of linguistic candy rotting cavities into our scientific integrity".  I argue that trivia is not really the point of these group names. I don't argue that the terms have no scientific value. My problem is in the vehemence with which he believes the words should be removed from the English language. He proposed we replace them with bland but more scientific words like group.

No doubt calling this crow a visitor or a friend is also a transgression against the purity of scientific integrity but I like the photographer's point of view - "Crow visitor" by Fernettes is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 

Would you really say... "Oh look at this group of jellyfish on the beach"?  You'd probably at least say this whole group, or, look at all of these jellyfish or, look there's thousands of jellyfish!  Because using the word group alone is too boring and entirely lacking in descriptive power. If thousands of jellyfish were surrounding a boat that I happened to be floating in, and they were slapping into the sides with every swell of water that lapped against the edges of my boat, I would probably call them a smack in that case too. I'd probably lean over the edge watch them smack into the boat, look further out and see an endless flotilla of them and say "Oh my God there's a smack of jellyfish out here, look!" Maybe it would come out slightly differently, but I would bet you substantial money that I would not say "look a GROUP of jellyfish!" 

Language is sometimes about tone and sometimes about feeling. And you can't convey those things with the word group.  I'm not arguing that some of these other words, these terms of venery, have any scientific value.  I merely believe that they have literary and poetic value.

Could you really capture the mood and tone of this moment by describing it as a group of three crows on a  roof?  I contend that you cannot. - "Cathedral of Our Lady" by marikoen is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0 

I personally have not heard people say "a group of crows". I admit that I'm unusual and have unusual preferences, but it would stand out to me if people said group, because it would not be my preferred word for this context. I don't hear people use this. I've heard them use an exact count of the crows or the word flock, but honestly, I've heard many, many people refer to crows as a murder. Now, you could use the work flock, or group, sure. It just seems to me that most people don't do so, because it doesn't convey as much feeling. 

Is this just a crow or is this a solitary crow?  Words matter even if there is no scientific value to that distinction. - "as the crow flies" by Simon Clarke is licensed under CC BY-ND 4.0 

Let me illustrate my point by telling you about the same morning in two different ways.  Firstly, using boring, strictly factual language and then again using poetic language Mr. Lund would disapprove of. 

Version A. 
I drove to work and I arrived about a minute late and there was this group of crows in my parking spot. I was briefly worried about hitting them while I parked, but I was also late. They scattered. Then I went inside and remembered it was my 90 day review. 

Version B. 
I drove to work this morning and arrived about a minute late. As I pulled into the parking lot there was a murder of crows waiting for me in my normal spot. I was ONLY a minute late but I was afraid to run over them, and then again, I was already late, so I hesitated briefly. I had this ominous feeling as their dark wings took to the sky and then I remembered as I looked over my shoulder at them on the way into the building that today was my 90 day review. 

Which version of my story conveys more of my internal emotional goings on? The one where I say group of crows and leave it to strict facts? There is nothing scientific about either story, but the story that contains the offensive "linguistic candy rotting cavities into our scientific integrity" is actually a much better story about my morning and how I felt about it. And despite his assertions, my poetic story has done no damage to any actual scientific integrity. 

If I called this a flurry of crows you would know what I meant, even if it's not the accepted collective noun for crows. - "as the crow flies" by Simon Clarke is licensed under CC BY-ND 4.0 

Another of his points is that these terms, being that they only exist in the world of bar trivia, could easily be replaced with more interesting and scientific facts. He is right in a way. Trivia could be more interesting and scientific (such as the shape of wombat poop). However, the way that I use the terms for different animals is not in a field of trivia, it's in how I actually describe things in my world. And I would personally much rather have a poetic discussion about the things I actually see and experience in the world than a factual one about the shape of wombat fecal matter, regardless of how unusual it may be. Sorry, Mr. Lund, I think replacing venery with fecal facts is simply not the way to go. 

Then there is the point in which he mentions that "I just don’t see enough groups of other animals to need more words". Mr. Lund, I am ashamed. You don't see any other animals than cows and birds?  You seriously don't need any other words than herd and flock?  Scientist, lifelong birder, or not, if he doesn't see enough groups of other animals to need other words than flock, herd, and group, I suggest he doesn't see enough animals. Or perhaps he does and he is simply not using English in an interesting enough way. Does he call dogs in a plural form a herd or a group?  Does he refer to swarms of bees as groups?  He can continue doing as he chooses of course. But I think his language is lacking if he uses strictly and only the words, flock, herd and group for all animals that he sees or talks about.

He concedes that "certain terms of venery have made the transition from factoid to actual phrase. Pod of whales. Troop of monkeys. Gaggle of geese. Pack of wolves."  That almost makes this article worse for me.  It seems to me that Mr. Lund is saying, you can use terms that don't irritate me, but if it irritates me I will say that you are morally corrupting our scientific integrity with your choice of words.  Do tell, Mr. Lund, when does something gain enough strength in popularity for you to deem it an "actual phrase" and allow us, in your great magnanimity to use it as part of the English language?

I will now concede that I personally think some of the terms are silly.  I do not see why anyone would refer to a roiling mass of rattlesnakes as a rhumba, I think it disgraces the dance and does not adequately convey the horror of such a mass of snakes.  I might even ask someone why they thought that was a good word for it, after I'd run a sufficiently safe distance from said coil of snakes.  But I think it's more a transgression against poetry than it is against science.  I don't need to know or have ever heard anyone refer to rattlesnakes as a rhumba to know that they are referring to a plurality of snakes I don't want to be near.  That's the thing about terms of venery, they mostly denote collective nouns rather than a single rattlesnake.  And I don't have to know or agree with the term to understand what is being conveyed. 


"Caw!" by molajen is licensed under CC BY 2.0 

All of this aside, I clearly disagree with Mr. Lund, but he may do as he likes.  He is entitled to his opinions of the proper way to use English terms, however much I disagree with them. However, he continues with his article and he takes it one step too far for me. 

At the end of his article he is clearly worked up about the sort of people who try to rot our collective scientific integrity with such linguistic candy. He says that the next time someone tells him a term of venery he will respond with: 

“Did you know anyone who believes that is part of a ‘gaggle of gullibles’?" 

Telling people they are gullible for using a term you don't like is technically neither true nor nice. Mr. Lund could say they are foolish, or perhaps sentimental, but he doesn't appear to have the aptitude for understanding how to use words that he deems too whimsical. Or, for that matter, patience for anyone who is not on his wavelength of morally upstanding scientific integrity.

Don't get me wrong, I am by no means perfect.  I have my particular veiwpoints that I defend with more vehemence than necessary.  I will own that there are words I simply hate.  I am fairly certain, however, that I have never told anyone they are gullible for using a real word that I hate.  I just cringe a little and try to move on.  

People who use words and phrases you don't like are not gullible.  They would only be gullible, Mr. Lund, if they believed you when and if you responded to them with made up terms of venery, as you did at the start of your article, specifically to mock them. I'm afraid, however, that to deliberately mislead them and mock them for things that are not false, simply not to your liking, would cost you your moral high ground, your scientific integrity, and lastly, Sir, I'm afraid, that if you do that intentionally, you're just being an ass. A solitary one.

A rather solitary, moody-looking fellow.  I think he is pontificating on some point dear to his heart. - "Gangsta Crow" by www.charlesthompsonphotography.com is licensed under CC BY 2.0 


Tuesday, 18 June 2013

It's not belated, it's prolonged.

If I had been home for Father's Day I would have done all the traditional celebratory things.  I would have brought my Dad donuts for breakfast and handed him a card and a book.  If I we were lucky it would be one he hadn't bought for himself last week when he went to the bookstore, despite the house rules that he is banned from them one month prior to any major holiday or gift giving day.  He always breaks this rule though.  In our family obedience has never really been a strong suit.

Stubbornness we could probably win Olympic medals in. That is just the sort of family we are.  When we decide on something there is really not much you can do about it.  We are just that stubborn or focused.  We do not have hobbies we have obsessions, a concept which one of my aunts explained perfectly by stating matter of factly that "If it is worth doing, it is worth over-doing".

Train-watching isn't just a hobby it's a passion.  Or even a career!  (I only partially jest, I am a Medievalist, you know.)

This brings me to the part where I would like to make a wild claim (another family specialty).  I am going to claim that if fathers are so important that they should have a day, a point I agree with, than they really ought be treated to more than just one day.  One single day is not enough to celebrate our fathers, so I am extending it to the whole week.  That is why I am writing today and not on Sunday.  And not of course because I am belated in writing this post.  Of course not.

So, as I am not there to bring my father all the right things I am going to tyrannically make demands from afar.  You must eat red licorice.  You must drink root beer.  You must read a good book this week.  And you must nap.  These are the little things and the best things about life.  So, do them and I will toast you from afar.  Happy Father's Day, or week, Dad.  xxx