Sunday, February 19, 2006

Mansfield Park

That it is possible to weep at a mere holding of hands ... I never thought it possible.


ckhnat said...

Edmund Bertram: Surely you and I are beyond speaking when words are clearly not enough.

Fanny Price: I have no talent for certainty.

Henry Crawford: You dance like an angel, Miss Price.
Fanny Price: One does not dance like an angel alone, Mr. Crawford.

Edmund Bertram: Your entire person is entirely agreeable.
Fanny Price: Yes, well, tonight I agree with everyone.

Fanny Price: Beware of fainting fits. Beware of swoons.

Mary Crawford: Gentlemen, please. Fanny Price is as fearful of praise and notice as other women are of neglect.

Fanny Price: Well, Lady Bertram is always suffering near-fatal fatigue.
Susan: From what?
Fanny Price: Usually from embroidering something of little use and no beauty... not to mention a healthy dose of opium every day.
Susan: Your tongue is sharper than a guillotine, Fanny.
Fanny Price: The effect of education, I suppose.

Edmund Bertram: She does not think evil, but she speaks it.
Fanny Price: The effect of education, I suppose.

Mary Crawford: Selfishness must always be forgiven, you know, because there is no hope for a cure.

Susan: So, this Henry Crawford, what's he like?
Fanny Price: A rake. I think.
Susan: Oh, yes, please.
Fanny Price: They amuse more in literature than they do in life.
Susan: Yes, but they amuse.

Young Susan: Think up lots of stories for me and eat hundreds of tarts.

Fanny Price: I often wonder that history should be so dull, for a great deal of it must be invention.

Mary Crawford: What I'd like to know is... which gentleman among you am I to have the pleasure of making love to?

Henry Crawford: What? A compliment? Heaven's rejoice, she complimented me.!
Fanny Price: I complimented your dancing, Mr. Crawford, keep your wig on.

Fanny Price: Run mad as often as you choose but do not faint.

[to Edmund Bertram as she is leaving to return home]
Fanny Price: I hope... I hope you know how much... how much I shall... write to you...

Fanny Price: And a woman's poverty is a slavery even more harsh than a man's.
Henry Crawford: Mm, arguable. But it need not be your lot. You can live out your days in comfort... with me.
Fanny Price: I know.
Henry Crawford: You do?
Fanny Price: Yes.
Henry Crawford: Is that a yes?
Fanny Price: Yes.
Henry Crawford: Is that the yes I have heard a hundred times in my heart but never from you? Oh, Fanny Price... You will learn to love me. Say it again.
Fanny Price: Yes.

Mary Crawford: This is 1806 for Heaven's sake!

Edmund Bertram: Your keen adaptability to my brother's possible demise sends a chill through my heart. A chill. Happily planning parties with his money. You shush my father like a dog at your table, and then you attack Fanny for following her own, infallible guide concerning matters of the heart. All of this leads me to believe that the person I've been so apt to dwell on for many months has been a figure of my own imagination, not you, Miss Crawford. I do not know you, and I'm sorry to say, I have no wish to.

Edmund Bertram: Fanny, I've loved you my whole life.
Fanny Price: I know, Edmund.
Edmund Bertram: No... I've loved you as a man loves a woman. As a hero loves a heroine. As I have never loved anyone.

Fanny Price: Life seems nothing more than a quick succession of busy nothings.

Henry Crawford: And what is your opinion, Miss Price?
Fanny Price: I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Crawford, but I'm afraid I do not have a ready opinion.
Henry Crawford: I suspect you are almost entirely composed of ready opinions not yet shared.

Edmund Bertram: Oh, don't be an imbecile.
Fanny Price: Oh, but imbecility in women is a great enhancement to their personal charms.
Edmund Bertram: Fanny, you're being irrational.
Fanny Price: Yet another adornment. I must be ravishing.

Fanny Price: Maria was married on Saturday. In all important preparations of mind she was complete, being prepared for matrimony by a hatred of home, by the misery of disappointed affection, and contempt of the man she was to marry. The bride was elegantly dressed and the two bridesmaids were duly inferior. Her mother stood with salts, expecting to be agitated, and her aunt tried to cry. Marriage is indeed a maneuvering business.

Henry Crawford: Fanny, you have created sensations which my heart has never known before.
Fanny Price: Please.
Henry Crawford: There is only one happiness in life: to love and be loved.
Fanny Price: Mr. Crawford, do not speak nonsense.
Henry Crawford: Nonsense?
Fanny Price: You are such a fine speaker that I'm afraid you may actually end in convincing yourself.
Henry Crawford: Fanny. You are killing me.
Fanny Price: No man dies of love but on the stage.

Edmund Bertram: There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time.

Mary Crawford: We seemed very happy to see each other, and I think we actually were a little bit.

Edmund Bertram: Fanny, you really must begin to harden yourself to the idea of... being worth looking at.

Fanny Price: It could have turned out differently, I suppose. But it didn't.

Mary Crawford: We all need an audience, wouldn't you say, Fanny?
Fanny Price: To be truthful, I live in dread of audiences.

Maria Elizabeth Bertram: [to Henry Crawford] Would that the sigh were for me...

Sir Thomas Bertram: Tom! You will do as I say!
Tom Bertram: What, and do as you do? Even I have principles, sir.

Edmund Bertram: And has your heart changed towards him?
Fanny Price: Yes. Many times.

Bobby said...

Isn't Jane Austen fantasic?

Not that there's ever any weeping coming from THIS quarter. But sometimes when I am particularly moved by Austin's work, I remove my hat and place it over my heart as I bow my head in silence.

Then I go watch wrestling.

matthew said...

I really liked your blog. God is good. I thought you might like mine. It's a take on faith and literature, from a guy wanting all the things a guy should want.

hink said...

havent seen it yet. so henry crawford is like a rake? like the one that rakes your money from you in gambling? thats my definition. so what compelled this post? i think someone should do posts on global warming, those danish newspaper cartoons, inteligent design, and possibly the olympics, if it werent too ho-hum. take care. hope youre well...

ckhnat said...

i watched Mansfield Park for the first time last night. i thought it was going to be the typical Jane Austen Emma or Pride and Prejudice. I definitely wasn't prepared for the MP experience. There were parts where I was sobbing uncontrollably ... this coming from a girl who doesn't cry ... hence the title of this entire blog.

ckhnat said...

check out

for a definition of a rake

Donna said...

We watched this again on (I think) Friday night, as Jen is getting over strep throat. It does have some great parts in it... I think my two favorite parts are 1) when Edmund FINALLY sees Mary Crawford for who she really is, and 2) when Edmund FINALLY figures out he's in love with his perfect match, Fanny.

Have a great week!

Anonymous said...

Only you: would be the first to comment on your own post, make a comment longer than you own post, leave more comments than anyone else on your own post. Its like post inside of posts. Go watch "Dear Frankie"

gumby171 said...

Fanny Price: No man dies of love but on the stage.

Wow. What an elusive truth.

And although it's hard to swallow when a man lie so, immobilized.
it puts some ease and comfort
into once cold & hopeless eyes

Thanks, I really needed to hear those words.

Jim the 3rd said...

[Some guy]: Fanny, my dear Fanny! My how you've grown!

(From the BBC version.)

ckhnat said...

only you, my dear Anon., would feel the need to address the issue of commenting on one's own blog. it's not as if you're blog has had any action on it. Comments are better than no comments ... even if they are only from one's self ... okay ... maybe not.

ckhnat said...

can i borrow Dear Frankie when you're done watching it?

Anonymous said...