When it comes to awkward moments, tense moments, moments of severe relational tension, Jane Austen rules with all the mastery of a high-born chatelaine. Though I’ve written about the awkward in other places before, this weekend’s readings for my literature class (from Pride and Prejudice) demand some further consideration.
Primarily the awkward moments in Austen result from exposure, moments when it feels like “the secrets shared in the ear” are suddenly “shouted from the rooftops” (Lk. 12:3). Mr. Darcy cannot hide his affection for Elizabeth, Elizabeth cannot hide her shame, Mrs. Bennett cannot stop the flow of gossip, Mr. Whickham cannot conduct himself beyond appearances, and Miss Bingley must content herself with “the satisfaction of having forced [Mr. Darcy] to say what gave no one any pain but herself” (III.3).
When these moments of awkwardness arrive, they take our breath away. The axe is laid at the foot of the tree, and the truth comes out. Hearts are pierced, the mighty are cast-down, and the lowly are exalted. An Austen novel is one long Judgement Day.
And yet, because of their deeply Christian nature, the judgement and awkwardness of Austen’s novels are good and life-giving. Evil is dragged out into the light in order that it might be taken away. Love is brought into the light so that we can marvel at its brilliance. Truth wins the day, and Kindness carries the field.
This is informative for us: the Judgement of the Kingdom, like the Kingdom itself, is always “at hand” (Matt. 3:2). It is ever-arriving, we cannot flee it. Not even the mountains can hide us from the face of the Lamb, not even if they fall on us (Rev. 6:16) —and oh, how many times in Pride and Prejudice do we wish we a mountain would fall on us and so conceal us from the exposure of the parlor room’s events! What belongs to us is not escape but repentance, transformation, growth, and new life. The judgement lands and we choose to either harden against it or lean into the Mercy which makes it perfect.
Whereas that kind of fiction which enjoys pairing Jane Austen’s work with zombies or other doomsday features is usually unimpressive and too preachy or self-aware to be called literature, the impulse itself is perhaps excusable. For the impulse to think of the end of the world while reading Jane Austen is correct for every Austen novel contains with in it many ends of many worlds.