Last chapter, Reverend Collins paid a visit to Longbourn House to try and build the bridge his father burnt with Mr Bennet, though made no sign of giving up his inheritance of the house whenever Bennet dies, leaving Mrs Bennet and the girls homeless (or at least out of the only home they’ve ever known until they get married off). He’s also hinted at the ulterior motive for his visit with a few more compliments towards the girls than is demanded by regency society customs before heading off to dinner.
After dinner, Mr Bennet decides to try and build a rapport with him by bringing up the Reverend’s adored patron, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. This turns out to be his favourite subject, as he goes on for reams of 3rd-person-narrated text paying compliments to her every aspect, including her allowance of him neglecting his parish for weeks to visit relatives, her two invitations to dinner and especially her “condescension” (presumably he means her daring to speak with the lower classes with some semblance of dignity, which is pretty impressive for the time, I’d bet, but a low bar). Whether this woman actually shows up in the book, I don’t know, but I would love to see Collins platonically fawning over her before I deface this book into oblivion with my annotations.
He goes on to mention a young lady who I’m certain will make an appearance in later chapters - the Lady’s sole daughter, heir to Rosings Park. According to our very biased correspondent, she is the “most charming”, and “far superior” to other women when it comes to “true beauty” (which I now realise two weeks after last reading the chapter is probably referring to a kind personality). Unfortunately, she has such a “sickly constitution” that she hasn’t been able to keep up academically with her peers, nor had the chance to be presented like an item up for auction in the romantic flavour of court.
Admiring his cousin’s “talent of flattering with delicacy”, Bennet comes away from their tete-a-tete with the distinct impression that Collins is as “absurd” as can be, but makes sure to keep composure and engage as keenly as possible with him until tea-time.
Wrangled into doing a reading, Collins refuses to read something as lowly as a novel. No, he is eager to point out, but a big book of sermons will do. Surprisingly, Lydias finds his “monotonous” reading quite dry and interrupts with an update on her and (her apparently renamed for this chapter to avoid confusion with Lady Catherine) Kitty’s favourite soldiers. I’ve no idea why her Ladyship is so eager to let him go for weeks on end - he can sure get a crowd eating from the palm of his hand!
The Revered takes offence at this and goes on a little passive-aggressive whinge about how it’s written for their own good, and how much young people are in need of “instruction”, but vows to “no longer importune” the girls and offers their father a game of Backgammon, which could be a metaphor for something for all I know. What even is Backgammon? Is it like Draughts? A Card game? Something to do with Gammon? Who knows?
Anyway, the chapter closes out with Collins emphasising that he bears no ill will towards any of the Bennets at all while Mrs Bennet tries to assure him it won’t happen again. This situation feels familiar, but the roles are reversed. Interesting.
Thoughts
- I listened to an audiobook of this chapter earlier. It was six minutes long. This piece took me 70 minutes to write (with a couple of cat-centric interruptions). Hm.
- I guess Collins doesn’t outright reveal why he’s really visiting yet, but the dominoes are sure lining up.
- Is Catherine Bennet going to be Kitty all the time from now on? Even in the narration?
