Pride and Prejudice Rewrite- Mary’s Perspective:
“My dear Mr Bennett… Longbourne… Mr Bingley…”
These were the words I hear in the background, conversed of course from my loud mother. My loud mother with her dreams of marrying off all her daughters. I however am not in the slightest on her brain. My eldest sister Jane, “not half so handsome as Jane.” I hear my mother protest to my father. My other sister Lydia is also mentioned as a potential match for some Mr Bingley.
I have four sisters; Jane- the handsome, Lizzy- my father’s favourite with her smarts and wit, and head always in a book, much like me. Then there is Kitty and Lydia- the giggling ridiculous ones, whom my mother adores. Then of course there is me, ignored by my parents and sent to the piano forte from a young age, which I dare say, I have not moved from since. It is my loud escape from the cries of my mother, the snide comments from my father and the constant giggles from my younger sisters.
A day or two past and Father has declared that he has indeed met with Mr Bingley. Father has to meet with Mr Bingley before one of his daughters can be properly introduced to him or any gentlemen. As I think about the sillyness of the conversation and how my father must meet with a man before we can even talk to him, my father involves me in his conversation on Mr Bingley and to whom his affections will go. “What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make extract.”
My father is now playing his first round of the day, the game known as make a witty quip at Mary and see what sensible or not so she has to say. I never win, and my thoughts are then interrupted by- “While Mary is adjusting her ideas… let us return to Mr Bingley.”
Quite right too, I have never been as exceptional at gathering my thoughts into a quick and sensible remark to my father. I am not Lizzy.
Many days after that, the day after the ball where Mr Bingley seems to have chosen Jane as he danced with her twice- my mother announced more than thrice. My younger sisters were thrilled with the prospect of all the male attention they got at the ball, and how much they can get next time. Elizabeth does not care too much for marriage but was happily conversing with Jane about Mr Bingley. Mr Bingley arrived with his lovely sister Miss Caroline Bingley and their friend- I forgotten his name, he seemed to not want to be there, which I quite admired. I was introduced to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl, a moment in which my mother was of a sudden taken over and quite agreed.
After a week or so, I was playing my piano, loudly and gloomy. When a letter arrived for my father from a man called Mr Collins. He was our cousin whom was on his way to stay with us. His is to inherit the house when my father dies. When the man of the house dies it passes to the first male relative, my father to his dismay never produced a male heir, but five daughters who do not inherit anything. Mr Collins was hoping to marry one of us, so that the house would be kept with the proper family. A thought I believed acceptable but my mother, sisters and father were not to impressed and even more displeased by him or his letter which was uninteresting. I expressed that his letter was well writ and in no way defective as my father or sisters had thought.
After walking away and playing a few melodies, I began to get into a deep sense of thought, Although I am quite delighted to hear of some new company, and the man being quite respectable cousin, I could not help but ponder on why he should get the house and all the tables and furniture and all the belongings of the estate. Of course if the estate did go to one of us when Father died it would go to Jane, though she has the best chance of a stupendous marriage, especially if this Mr Bingley is involved. Thank the heavens it would then pass to Lizzy, who is a great mind and reader, and whom is tolerable unlike Lydia or Kitty. Even better would be if Elizabeth got married, highly unlikely but if she got a marriage proposal well enough for her, I would then get the house. The piano forte would be mine, and I could play all day and threaten my younger siblings will banishment if they interrupted me or giggled far too often. It is strange to think that my little dream of owning this house and farm will never be possible. Lizzy is a boisterous female whom believes in change and women’s rights, whatever that is. I think it is Fathers influence on her, however maybe she is right. We are his daughters; my mother is his wife, why does a second cousin get his estate? Who knows, maybe one day it will change, maybe Jane’s grandchildren will be able to vote or own a house or…..
A knock on the door interrupted me, it was Mr Collins. He arrived with a smile on this face and a few books in his arms. He was a tall man, of looks that show he is wise and a suitable man, maybe he owning this house would not be so terrible after all. He shared pleasantries with my family, but unfortunately, Mr Collins stared gazingly at Jane. My smart, shy and ever so handsome eldest sister, I wanted Mr Collins to look at me with the same gaze. Mr Collins however did not see me; he looked almost right past me. I wondered why I cared, I never wanted a man to stare at me, to want to marry me, and it was a strange feeling. A feeling so strange I wondered why I could not just convince him to play a duet with me on my piano, or his piano as it technically is when Father dies. My mother and Father would have to put in a good word for me to Mr Collins, though I could never bear the thought of my Father’s mockery. Why could I not just do that I thought to myself, I made a mental note to listen to Elizabeth more often when she rambles on about what women should be allowed to do, for I could just walk up to Mr Collins as an equal, though that would never happen, and I would never have such a lion’s heart for that. Later on at dinner, My Family all sat down and pretended to be interested in what Mr Collins said, Mother mentions that we were not poor. However Mr Collins was only interested in telling us about Lady Catherine De Bourgh. From what Mr Collins had said Lady Catherine seems a perfectly amiable and gracious lady. Lady Catherine of course gave him a cottage on her estate called Rosings Park. He is the Clergymen at the village and Lady Catherine could have had no flaws at all, especially from what Mr Collins described. As he explained that events that led him here, with Lady Catherine insisting on him to get a wife, but only one as amiable as he. I began to imagine where he lived, what the farm and cottage looked like, spending evenings with Lady Catherine and her daughter and listening to him giving service to all the happy and sensible people living in the village. What a happy and fulfilling life he does lead. As I bring back my thoughts to the conversation, Mr Collins says “These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay.” My heart all of sudden skipped a beat, like in the old romance novels state, how I yearned for such a compliment. My Father then spoke, interrupting my thoughts-
“And it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?” My sisters and parents all stared at Mr Collins, awaiting his reply. Whether he would suspect my Father’s teasing nature. I sat there awaiting his reply, which felt like forever, would he realise my Father’s rudeness and then leave? Mr Collins then answered my prayers; he did not suspect my father for being anything other than polite. The true showing of Mr Collins’ nature that he is a too kind soul to believe that the man of the house would be rude, in attempt to embarrass him.
As I sit at my piano forte after dinner I think about Mr Collins, how he wants to impress, how he does impress me without even trying too. He is talking about reading out a sermon to us, Elizabeth rolls her eyes in dismay, a characteristic I find very unattractive. Jane of course minds too but she does not show it, why can’t Elizabeth do the same? Father would never disagree with her as he mirrors Lizzy with an over-exaggerated eye roll. How rude of them. Sometimes I think about what it would be like to be a daughter in another family. Maybe a daughter who’s Father loved her just like Father loves and adores Lizzy and Jane, and maybe Mother would spend all her time annoying me with who to marry like Mother annoys all my sisters, par me of course. I want to find a reason for Mr Collins to notice me and talk to me and solely me. Something that will show my Mother I was here all along. I didn’t think I ever wanted to be so heavenly attached to some man as I do with Mr Collins, he is simply the most sensible and modest man I have ever met. Lizzy and the others rudeness to Mr Collins’ sermon has gone too far, as I decide I will retire for the night. Something that the others, quite agreed with.
It has been several days since our cousin Mr Collins has arrived. He is very much settled and has a found a common friend in my scheming Mother. I haven’t had enough time to communicate anything with Mr Collins as I have a hard time putting my thoughts into words. I have to have my opening sentence or monologue as Lizzy calls it, down to perfection. This is because I am now without Mr Collins realising (or my family for that matter), that I am competing with Elizabeth for Mr Collins affection. Of course Lizzy is not fighting with me but Mr Collins is fighting for Lizzy and she is so good with her words, so if I am to win Mr Collins affections I will have to start talking. This is all irrelevant when I hear that Mr Bingly (The man in love with Jane) is holding a private ball! How exciting, for once I am in complete agreement over this ball. I know straight away that Mr Collins loves pianos and all the glorious noises they can make, and that I will play for him at this ball. I will make a song up for him and it can be the way I will share my affections with him. Surely he will then realise that I am a far suitable match then my dear elder sister. It seems odd that I must try so hard, are the men not supposed to do this? Is it not tradition for the men to be enamoured by the women that we just sit there and laugh? I feel very down now. Compete with Lizzy for a man? I hate men and their un-poetic ways. I feel very lost. Of course when Father asks me whether I’m excited for the ball I reply:
“While, I can have my mornings to myself, it is enough.- I think it no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.” My Family around me nod their head and agree, what did I just say? Mr Collins looks up from his bible and smiles at me. Did I just respond adequately? Mr Collins smiled at me, all that doubt before has gone, for the odd feeling in my stomach has returned like the first night we met Mr Collins. I have heard Jane talking about them before, butterflies she called them. I have butterflies for Mr Collins.
The ball of Netherfield came around all too quickly and I was jumping with the thought that after Mr Collins hears the song I have prepared for him, he may love me too. The song was a mixture of sounds that remind me of him. He will surely know how I feel about him and all the ladies will be envious of my piano playing abilities by the end of it. I feel so overwhelmed as I enter the drawing room where the most beautiful piano lies. Awaiting my turn I see Elizabeth dancing with Mr Collins, I am instantly green as I just wait for my opportunity.
It has come; Lizzy is in the room as is Father, Mother, Jane and Mr Bingly and most importantly Mr Collins. Gleeful, I begin, a song filled with love, well my version of love. It is almost a song filled with danger. I can hear the ladies at the end of the piano whispering, they must be jealous. I hear people starting to stop their conversations to listen. I play for what feels like heaven and lasts just as long. I am obliging the company with my music and singing. Though I am not the best singer I am playing rather loudly. The passion in my voice and fingers will surely make my playing sound like a beautiful melody. I finish my song, people are nodding in thanks, I sit there thinking if I should stop now or keep going, half a minute passes and I endeavour to continue. I could have sung all night. At the end of my second song, I was once again interrupted by my Father;
“That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.” Whatever does he mean? Was that not good enough? Am I to be embarrassed by my Father in front of Mr Collins? I look around and find Elizabeth staring at me; she is blushing with embarrassment and is looking around too at Mr Darcy and Mr Collins. For what feels like forever everyone is staring at me. My body seems to have frozen in this horrific scene in the drawing room. Mr Collins then spoke; “If I were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have the pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air...” Mr Collins then continued with his thoughts. What a speech he delivered one that insured I could then walk out of the drawing room with my head held high as they say. Though I was more down from the lack of recognition I had just received. Mr Collins was well mannered yes, but even he would be embarrassed. I had failed.
Mr Collins spent the rest of the night by Elizabeth’s side. This was the worst night of my life. I could not feel more down and depressed. Of course as usual I was wrong. The next day I awoke to the cries of my Mother as Mr Collins had just requested an audience with my most loved sister Elizabeth. I can’t explain what happened next. I felt my throat block up and gulping was an achievement, my stomach was gone from my body as if lost in a sea of regret and sadness. My eyes leaked with my depression. I was shocked, I have cried before, in fact I cried last night, but this was different. I let out odd noises from my very heart that was seemingly crying out for saviour. I did not ever want to feel like this again...
I didn’t, Mr Collins was rejected by my sister and then accepted by my sister’s best friend, Charlotte. They left and got married and lived in a lovely cottage by Lady De Bourgh’s estate. Charlotte had my dream, one that I never thought about after that day on the bed where I cried from a broken heart. My sisters married of course, after a dramatic few months my horrible younger sibling Lydia married Mr Wickham in an outrageous and scandalous way. Then Jane and Mr Bingly got married. I was happy for Jane; she was too sweet to not marry a nice man, a nice and wealthy man. At the moment I am visiting Lizzy who is now Mrs Darcy. No one knows about the love I felt, which I quite prefer. I am content.
The End
By Danni Blackburn 1090997
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