continuing characters
Nov. 28th, 2006 07:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
calimacWatching The Barber of Seville, it occurred to me that the characters are completely compatible with the standard set of repertory characters in Gilbert and Sullivan operettas - so I wrote about that in my review.
Even if my equation is deemed illusory, the G&S repertory characters aren't. They are there for the very good reason that they were played by repertory actors (and often still are). Aficionados even refer to those fast-talking nebbishy light-baritones who sing the patter songs - Sir Joseph "When I Was a Lad" Porter, "IamtheverymodelofamodernMajorGeneral" Stanley, Reginald Bunthorne, the Lord Chancellor, King Gama, Ko-ko, Jack Point - as the Grossmith roles, because George Grossmith originated all of them. Not all of the other principal actors stayed with the company so long as he, but there are four male and three female characters who re-appear in some form in most of the shows. Their functions in the story are not always the same - for instance, in Ruddigore, uniquely, Grossmith's character is the romantic hero and gets the girl (Leonora Braham as Rose Maybud, who'd previously been Yum-yum), while Durward Lely, the tenor who'd played Nanki-poo in The Mikado, is the dastard who tries to wheedle her away - but a consistency can always be seen.
A theatrical house has good reason to resort to a repertory company, but a novelist has no such imperative. Yet, as a pattern-seeking creature, I've noticed a similar pattern - not exact but strikingly consistent - of continuing stock characters in Jane Austen.
The leads are not the most striking examples, though they're enough to start with. Each of her novels has a young female protagonist (sometimes two), and whether she's looking for him or not, by the end of the story each young woman has found and won Mr. Right. She is either spunky or strangely inert, usually not a conventional society girl, and Mr. Right is smitten despite the fact that (unless her name is Emma Woodhouse) she doesn't have much money.
Mr. Right himself is notable for his good sense and modesty even more than his lack of gold-lust. Neither Edmund Bertram nor Edward Ferrars wants anything more in life than a quiet country parsonage; even Mr. Darcy turns out to be thoughtful and self-effacing beneath his fearsome exterior. Arrogance is absent from all.
The most striking recurring character is Mr. Wrong. He's a useful but not required character in a romance, but Austen likes to make use of him. He may often be recognized by a name beginning with W (Wickham, Willoughby, Mr. William Elliot), but even if it doesn't (Henry Crawford) he's a superficially charming but untrustworthy rogue whose greatest sin is sexual or financial incontinence, or both. (Frank Churchill and John Thorpe, untrustworthy but not truly roguish, are not in their class.)
Henry Crawford also has part of the character of Mr. Doesn't Know The Meaning Of The Word "No," whose sillier exemplars are Mr. Collins and Mr. Elton. Almost as funny, but far less vile because not a sexual predator (and usually married), is Mr. Sardonic. He's usually a minor character (Mr. Palmer, John Knightley; perhaps Yates in Mansfield Park falls into this category). In one book Mr. Sardonic becomes a major character; this is of course Mr. Bennet, who for his incessant balloon-puncturing is my favorite Austen character. Lastly among the men there's Mr. Fussy Old Geezer (Mr. Woodhouse, Dr. Grant; Sir Walter Elliot is an understudy for this part but hasn't got it yet).
Mr. Wrong's female equivalent, Miss Wrong, shows up under the name Mary Crawford, Lucy Steele, or Miss Bingley, and alarmingly tries to make off with Mr. Right. Isabella Thorpe sets her cap elsewhere but is otherwise identical. Mrs. Vain is a monster of self-importance who considers herself the model of fine or self-effacing behavior, and is called Mrs. Norris, Mrs. Elton, Fanny Dashwood, or Mary Musgrove. Lady Queen-Bee believes she can dictate everyone else's behavior: she's Mrs. Ferrars, certainly; Lady Russell to an extent; and, most of all, the immortal Lady Catherine de Bourgh. (Her total inverse is found in Lady Bertram.) Mrs. Oh Must We Call On Her? is superficially similar but entirely different, a tiresomely talkative old gossip who really does have a heart of gold: Mrs. Jennings, Miss Bates, and to an extent Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Allen.
None of these are very admirable, are they? Don't worry; we have an antidote. In both novels with double protagonists, the second one is a sister who's too fine for the world and almost leaves it to prove this (Marianne Dashwood, Jane Bennet); Susan Price, Harriet Smith, and Eleanor Tilney are more earthbound but also play the role of Miss Congeniality.
Occasionally you'll get a married couple who are neither quarrelsome nor terminally eccentric: the Gardiners, the Westons, the Crofts. It gives hope for the future of the marriage of Mr. Right and his blushing bride.
Even if my equation is deemed illusory, the G&S repertory characters aren't. They are there for the very good reason that they were played by repertory actors (and often still are). Aficionados even refer to those fast-talking nebbishy light-baritones who sing the patter songs - Sir Joseph "When I Was a Lad" Porter, "IamtheverymodelofamodernMajorGeneral" Stanley, Reginald Bunthorne, the Lord Chancellor, King Gama, Ko-ko, Jack Point - as the Grossmith roles, because George Grossmith originated all of them. Not all of the other principal actors stayed with the company so long as he, but there are four male and three female characters who re-appear in some form in most of the shows. Their functions in the story are not always the same - for instance, in Ruddigore, uniquely, Grossmith's character is the romantic hero and gets the girl (Leonora Braham as Rose Maybud, who'd previously been Yum-yum), while Durward Lely, the tenor who'd played Nanki-poo in The Mikado, is the dastard who tries to wheedle her away - but a consistency can always be seen.
A theatrical house has good reason to resort to a repertory company, but a novelist has no such imperative. Yet, as a pattern-seeking creature, I've noticed a similar pattern - not exact but strikingly consistent - of continuing stock characters in Jane Austen.
The leads are not the most striking examples, though they're enough to start with. Each of her novels has a young female protagonist (sometimes two), and whether she's looking for him or not, by the end of the story each young woman has found and won Mr. Right. She is either spunky or strangely inert, usually not a conventional society girl, and Mr. Right is smitten despite the fact that (unless her name is Emma Woodhouse) she doesn't have much money.
Mr. Right himself is notable for his good sense and modesty even more than his lack of gold-lust. Neither Edmund Bertram nor Edward Ferrars wants anything more in life than a quiet country parsonage; even Mr. Darcy turns out to be thoughtful and self-effacing beneath his fearsome exterior. Arrogance is absent from all.
The most striking recurring character is Mr. Wrong. He's a useful but not required character in a romance, but Austen likes to make use of him. He may often be recognized by a name beginning with W (Wickham, Willoughby, Mr. William Elliot), but even if it doesn't (Henry Crawford) he's a superficially charming but untrustworthy rogue whose greatest sin is sexual or financial incontinence, or both. (Frank Churchill and John Thorpe, untrustworthy but not truly roguish, are not in their class.)
Henry Crawford also has part of the character of Mr. Doesn't Know The Meaning Of The Word "No," whose sillier exemplars are Mr. Collins and Mr. Elton. Almost as funny, but far less vile because not a sexual predator (and usually married), is Mr. Sardonic. He's usually a minor character (Mr. Palmer, John Knightley; perhaps Yates in Mansfield Park falls into this category). In one book Mr. Sardonic becomes a major character; this is of course Mr. Bennet, who for his incessant balloon-puncturing is my favorite Austen character. Lastly among the men there's Mr. Fussy Old Geezer (Mr. Woodhouse, Dr. Grant; Sir Walter Elliot is an understudy for this part but hasn't got it yet).
Mr. Wrong's female equivalent, Miss Wrong, shows up under the name Mary Crawford, Lucy Steele, or Miss Bingley, and alarmingly tries to make off with Mr. Right. Isabella Thorpe sets her cap elsewhere but is otherwise identical. Mrs. Vain is a monster of self-importance who considers herself the model of fine or self-effacing behavior, and is called Mrs. Norris, Mrs. Elton, Fanny Dashwood, or Mary Musgrove. Lady Queen-Bee believes she can dictate everyone else's behavior: she's Mrs. Ferrars, certainly; Lady Russell to an extent; and, most of all, the immortal Lady Catherine de Bourgh. (Her total inverse is found in Lady Bertram.) Mrs. Oh Must We Call On Her? is superficially similar but entirely different, a tiresomely talkative old gossip who really does have a heart of gold: Mrs. Jennings, Miss Bates, and to an extent Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Allen.
None of these are very admirable, are they? Don't worry; we have an antidote. In both novels with double protagonists, the second one is a sister who's too fine for the world and almost leaves it to prove this (Marianne Dashwood, Jane Bennet); Susan Price, Harriet Smith, and Eleanor Tilney are more earthbound but also play the role of Miss Congeniality.
Occasionally you'll get a married couple who are neither quarrelsome nor terminally eccentric: the Gardiners, the Westons, the Crofts. It gives hope for the future of the marriage of Mr. Right and his blushing bride.
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Date: 2006-11-29 04:15 am (UTC)