When someone reads a book, he or she might try to visualize the events and characters in their mind. Some can go one step further than merely visualizing it, and bring the book to life by adapting it into a film. One such book that has received that treatment is Pride and Prejudice, which has at least three separate film adaptations. Of these adaptations, the one that stands out the most is the six-episode, five-hour-long miniseries made in 1995. Pride and Prejudice has many elements that lend themselves to a silver screen adaptation, and these elements are utilized and highlighted in the miniseries very successfully. Critics have varying opinions about the greater themes and aspects of the novel, and the miniseries too takes its own stance. In its very composition, the miniseries necessarily makes its own judgement on Pride and Prejudice as a novel, and it has both confirmed my impressions of the novel and proven its worth as an effective adaptation.
To determine what makes Pride and Prejudice more suited to a film adaptation than other works, it can be compared to a work that is less compatible with the visual medium. One such work is Black Boy; while it does have a film adaptation made in 1995, it is only about 90 minutes long, and it is not well-known at all. I personally prefer Pride and Prejudice to Black Boy, and many others, including many filmmakers, agree. One possible reason for this is that Pride and Prejudice contains better written characters, in whom the reader can take an interest. The core cast of Pride and Prejudice is rather large, but can be quantified: the Bennet family, Mr. Bingley and his sisters, Mr. Darcy and his family (including Lady Catherine), Mr. Collins, Charlotte Lucas, and Wickham. By contrast, Black Boy has numerous characters that only appear for one chapter, and then never appear in the book again. This is to be expected to some degree, since the book is partially autobiographical, but it is rather extreme in this work. Wright has few, if any, recurring friends, and some of his family members are introduced but not often dwelt upon long enough to be considered recurring characters. Black Boy does have a consistent protagonist and a couple of consistent supporting characters, but they are not particularly captivating. Richard Wright paints an unflattering picture of himself, critical of everyone and everything. By itself, viewing the world with a critical eye is not necessarily a bad thing, but he is very self-important, and lacks self-awareness to an irritating extent. Elizabeth Bennet is the protagonist of Pride and Prejudice, and while she has flaws, she also has obvious positive qualities, such as her intellect and her protectiveness of Jane. She has a great deal of pride, and is quick to look down upon Mr. Darcy for his mistakes, but the reader is given a solid basis for these negative traits in her father’s favoritism and Darcy’s objective social coldness. In addition, Elizabeth becomes aware of her shortcomings over the course of the story, and works to improve upon them. At one point in Black Boy, Wright notes that he cannot understand his landlady in Memphis and her daughter, Bess, who are trusting and helpful towards him. This is as close as he comes to acknowledging flaws of his that he should improve upon, yet he never does. He does not address his hypocrisy or his own pride. The most development he receives is learning about the power words can hold through his encounter with works of H. L. Mencken. This changes him for the better, yet he ignores the other flaws that hinder his life.
In the case of some of Black Boy’s characters, their characterizations are not even consistent. For example, Wright’s mother is a fearsome character at the beginning of the novel, when Wright is a young boy. When she becomes paralyzed in the fourth chapter of the book, Wright looks upon her as a symbol of suffering, and the reader is supposed to as well (Wright, 100). However, the book makes little effort to actually make her a character looked upon with sympathy. While she must have done her duties as a mother sufficiently enough for Wright to care about her, the audience is not shown this. Instead, they are shown her beating her son “so long and hard that [he] lost consciousness”, punishing him harshly for following his father’s instructions (impulsive and hyperbolic as they were), and not much else to contradict that first impression (Wright, 7). Pride and Prejudice’s characters are consistent with their traits, and changes are gradual with proper reasoning behind them. Mrs. Bennet begins the book as an excitable, stubborn, easily-influenced woman, and she ends the novel as an excitable, stubborn, easily-influenced woman. Jane remains kind and optimistic, Lydia remains immature, and Mr. Collins remains sickeningly devoted to his patroness Lady Catherine. The characters who change the most in Pride and Prejudice are Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, the protagonist and deuteragonist, respectively. Throughout the book, they keep their core personality traits, so it is not as though they become completely different characters. They are merely made aware of the negative effect their less desirable traits have on their lives, and work to better themselves. Mr. Darcy sees how his aloofness has alienated Elizabeth and how his intervention with Bingley ultimately harmed both Bingley and the Bennets, so he works to socialize more positively with Elizabeth, and ultimately saves her family from ruin by paying off Wickham’s debts, making certain that Lydia and Wickham are married, and returning to Longbourn with Bingley. Elizabeth sees her error in deciding to believe Wickham’s story because it agreed with her opinion of Darcy, so she regards Wickham coldly thereafter and becomes warmer towards Darcy. The story is not merely the escapades of the Bennet family in their efforts to marry off their daughters; it also deals with the changes that Elizabeth and Darcy go through as they fall in love with each other. The quality of the characters in Pride and Prejudice not only puts it a cut above the rest, it also makes it better to adapt to a visual medium like film.
Another prominent aspect of Pride and Prejudice that makes it more inclined to adaptation is the irony woven within and throughout the story. Irony serves as an entertaining feature for the viewer, and encourages the viewer to think. The most prominent characters who make use of irony are Darcy and Elizabeth, often using it to criticize people or things. The interactions between them and their conversation partners, whether they understand the ironies or not, serve as interesting pieces of dialogue to analyze, and can even add humor to the moment. For example, while Darcy and Elizabeth are speaking with Sir William Lucas at a gathering in Chapter 7, Elizabeth remarks with a smile that Darcy is “all politeness” (Austen, 18). The true meaning of this phrase is obvious to the reader, in light of Darcy’s disparaging remarks towards Elizabeth and her family. He has said that she isn’t attractive enough to warrant any particular attention from him, so when Elizabeth says to his face that his manners are good, she is clearly trying to shame him for his earlier lack of manners. This example is so blatant it could be considered sarcasm if everyone in the conversation had understood what Elizabeth meant. Sir William, however, completely misses Elizabeth’s meaning, and instead genuinely compliments Darcy. This exemplifies that Sir William is either too stupid or too ignorant to catch on. Darcy, however, seems to understand what she means, and it is at this point in the novel that Darcy first describes Elizabeth as pretty (Austen, 19). Darcy uses irony himself earlier in the novel, seemingly complimenting dancing for its popularity amongst lower classes and remarking that “Every savage can dance” (Austen, 18). Sir William missed the irony within that statement as well, so to hear Elizabeth speak ironically like him must have been a pleasant surprise for Darcy. Of all the people of a lower class that Darcy viewed as beneath him, this girl, whom he once viewed as not eye-catchingly pretty, is the only one who has a mind to match his. Elizabeth’s jab at Darcy was meant to drive him away, but it only made her more attractive to him. This is a level of irony that the reader must understand on their own. A statement of irony made by a character leads to a larger ironic situation that drives the rest of the novel. Irony is at the core of the novel’s overarching story.
Austen herself was no stranger to irony, which explains how she was able to write both irony and characters that use irony so skillfully. Many critics have observed Austen’s propensity for irony, though her meanings are open to interpretation. For example, irony could be attributed to cynicism in Pride and Prejudice, since idealistic characters like Jane and Sir William seldom use it or understand it. Meanwhile Darcy, who narrowly avoided letting his sister be endangered by Wickham, his childhood friend, is more critical and cynical in regards to society. Austen’s own use of irony would show that she is more cynical than idealistic, as Margaret Oliphant would agree. In her piece on Pride and Prejudice, on page 286 of the Norton Second Critical Edition of the novel, Oliphant mentions that feminine cynicism is “the soft and silent disbelief of a spectator who has to look at a great many things without showing any outward discomposure”. This idea of feminine cynicism can be seen in Elizabeth, who cannot openly protest against many things without being seen as an unruly woman and a poor future wife. She uses irony as a means of expressing her discontent towards Darcy, who has hurt her pride, in a way that does not harm her image. Elizabeth moves away from feminine cynicism later in the novel, when she directly expresses her opposition to Lady Catherine’s demands, and she is viewed as an impudent woman by Lady Catherine for it. The irony spread throughout the novel could be a sign of Austen’s own frustrations with society, and Elizabeth as her vehicle of delivering them. D.W. Harding’s essay, “‘Regulated Hatred’: An Aspect in the Work of Jane Austen”, seems to support this stance, saying that “she is a literary classic of the society which attitudes like hers…would undermine” (Norton Second Critical Edition, 292). It should be noted that in the society Jane Austen lived in, women had few means of supporting themselves without a husband. Writing was one method, and Jane Austen herself never married.
The novel itself is over 200 pages, so any adaptation of Pride and Prejudice must be mindful of what to include and what to remove. One particular scene from the book that was not in the miniseries is the discussion that Elizabeth and Darcy have about just how pliable one’s opinion should be when a friend gives advice. The removal of that discussion removes the foreshadowing of Darcy’s meddling to get Bingley away from Jane, as well as negative characterization of Darcy prior to his proposal. On page 34, Elizabeth and Darcy have a serious talk about persuasion and influence while discussing the supposed boastfulness of humility. Elizabeth accuses to Darcy, “To yield readily…to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you” and Darcy replies that to be so easily swayed does neither himself nor his friend justice (Austen, 34). Elizabeth’s answer is that a friend should be willing to do something his friend asks him to do without having to wait for a good argument (Austen, 34). Darcy asks that they specify the importance of the task, and Bingley interrupts them before they proceed with the argument, but Darcy’s responses are fascinating in light of his interference with Bingley later in the novel. He is great friends with Bingley, and he knows that Bingley thinks highly of his word. Darcy also says that his distrust of Jane came from his observations of her and Bingley. Taking this conversation into account, the reader can conclude that Darcy is honest in that assertion, since he would avoid the gossip of Bingley’s sisters. However, this conversation also means that Darcy was taking advantage of Bingley’s own trust in him to all but guarantee that he would stay away from Jane. It is fortunate for Jane that Darcy was so interested in Elizabeth’s affections for him, because if he were not, or if Elizabeth had not mentioned his intervention, then Darcy would never have had reason to convince his friend to return with him to propose to Jane. This change also works in Darcy’s favor, because viewers might not be so quick to forgive him for intervening if it had been foreshadowed. If there had been prior warning, a viewer could think that Darcy had planned to steer Bingley away from Jane from the very beginning, when he truly decided to do so after observing her and her family. Manipulating a friend to do what one wants them to do, even if the person believe it is for the friend’s own good, should usually be frowned upon, so Darcy’s actions are questionable at best. Thinking that he had planned to sway Bingley from the beginning would make his actions even worse, so removing that discussion prevents viewers from possibly drawing that conclusion.
The adaptation also added many scenes to the story, some of which focused on characters more neglected in the book. Most prominently, during the period of time when Lydia has gone missing, we are shown Lydia living in an apartment with Wickham. During the occasions that we see her, she expresses her infatuation with Wickham and her discontent with staying in their room the entire time as Wickham hides from his debtors. These scenes not only reassure the viewer that Lydia is still alive and well, but also demonstrate how childish Lydia really is. She has no knowledge of just what the man she wants to marry is doing, and gets restless in the small room. She cares little for the business troubling Wickham, and heralds Mr. Darcy’s arrival as an amusing change of pace. These scenes characterize Lydia and Wickham’s relationship as a superficial one, where neither of them really communicate with each other. If Wickham really trusted Lydia at all, he would have at least told her his version of what happened between him and Darcy, as he told Elizabeth. He also would have mentioned that he was trying to pay off debts, since Lydia is probably too young, silly, and enamored with him to care about his debts. These added scenes shed more light on Mr. and Mrs. Wickham, and show just how ill-matched and wrought with problems their marriage is sure to be.
Marvin Mudrick, a critic of Austen’s work, points out that while Darcy is an important character in the novel, “we recognize his effects upon Elizabeth, without recognizing that he exists independently of them” (Norton Second Critical Edition, 300). The miniseries rectifies this by inserting scenes of Darcy when Elizabeth is not around. When Lydia and Wickham have gone missing, in between scenes of the Bennet family’s woes, Darcy is shown looking around London, following leads, and generally making every effort to find Elizabeth’s little sister. These scenes, though short, show the viewer directly the determination and effort Darcy is putting into this; a reader would have to trust what they are told, since they are not shown anything. As a result, the miniseries does a better job of characterizing Darcy as his own person than the novel does. The famous scene where Darcy strips down to his underwear and goes swimming, only to run into Elizabeth in Pemberley, was also specifically added for the miniseries. Adding this moment works well because it shows the viewer Darcy at his most vulnerable. In the book, the reader never sees Darcy at a point where he is more exposed than he wishes to be. Even when he proposes to Elizabeth, he thought carefully about what to say to her. However, in this scene, the viewer gets to see how Darcy reacts at his weakest, when he has no control over his powerlessness whatsoever. It adds some pleasant levity to the story, and marks a key moment for Darcy’s relationship with Elizabeth.
There are several changes, but the miniseries stays faithful to the novel in terms of story and key moments. After all, if those were taken away, it would be difficult to aptly call the story by the name Pride and Prejudice. In particular, when Mr. Collins and Darcy propose to Elizabeth, their words are exactly the same as in the novel itself. Fortunately, since the dialogue is done in a similar style, the verbatim proposals fit well. In fact, hearing these words given voice makes them even more effective than they originally were in the novel. David Bamber as Mr. Collins does a great job conveying how impersonal the marriage proposal is to him. He rattles off the reasons he has for proposing to her as if he has rehearsed saying them all at once. One expects that a proposal will have emotion within it, and will be personalized for the person on the receiving end. In both the book and the movie, Mr. Collins has none of that; even his reasons for marrying Elizabeth specifically could have been for any of the Bennet girls. Since he is inheriting the estate and taking it away from the Bennet women upon Mr. Bennet’s death, he feels that he should choose one of them, and he shall never hold it against his wife that she is poor; it is true that this could describe Elizabeth, but it could also describe Mary, Kitty, or even Lydia. To add to this, Mr. Collins recovers quickly from Elizabeth’s rejection, and goes on to propose to Charlotte Lucas; it is possible that his practicing of his marriage lines was not put to waste, and he said almost the exact same thing to her. It is not easy to show a character rattling off lines by rote without making it look like the actor is saying the lines by rote, and Bamber does a great job.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, Colin Firth’s delivery of the lines makes them more effective because the viewer can hear the emotions that Darcy has been trying so hard to contain. For most of the miniseries up until that point, Darcy’s lines have been rather terse, and most of his longer instances of speech from the book have been shortened or removed. These brief instances of speech emphasize his brooding, awkward social manner, but they could also indicate a bad actor playing him. Firth delivers the lines suddenly, as though Darcy were having a sudden outburst that drives him to propose. Even though I had read the words on paper prior to watching the miniseries, Darcy’s proposal still felt unrehearsed and genuine, as if he were coming up with the right thing to say on the spot. Both of these exceeded my expectations.
Pride and Prejudice is a story that is readily adaptable to film, and the 1995 miniseries of it does the story justice in doing so. There are stylistic elements of drama in Pride and Prejudice, some of which include the quick dialogue that a reader must follow. Long exchanges of dialogue often go on without dialogue markers of who is saying what, which can confuse readers if they lose track of who spoke last. This ceases to be a problem when the story is adapted to film, because the addition of actors and voices make the dialogue much easier to follow. Additionally, In Nina Auerbach’s critique “Waiting Together: Pride and Prejudice”, she states that Jane Austen is loath to describe Longbourn concretely in order to make it seem intangible and lost, displaying it as Mrs. Bennet sees the house (Norton Second Critical Edition, 340). In a film, this approach is almost impossible to accomplish. Seeing a version of Longbourn with defined fixtures and rooms did not take anything away from the story, so I would have to disagree with Auerbach’s opinion of it. There might have been a reason that Austen never gave tangible descriptions of the house, but that might have been because Longbourn was not meant to be a significant setting in terms of its details. It is rarely important to know the specific details of a house, especially one where few significant events occur. This is true of the Longbourn that the miniseries presents as well, but the benefit of the visual medium it uses is that it can give an appearance to the house without having to call much attention to it; every word must be used carefully in a novel, while not every detail in a picture needs to be noticed. Pride and Prejudice is therefore, in some ways, perfect for a medium like film.