A controversial portrait -- possibly of the writer Jane Austen -- was put up for auction at Christie's yesterday. (Actually it failed to sell.) The controversy is over whether the picture is actually of her. (A photo of the portrait is to the right.)
All of that is very interesting, but not nearly so interesting as the argument I heard on NPR on why it isn't her: the woman in the picture is too attractive.
Some skeptics have argued that the short hair and empire-waist dress weren't stylish until Austen, who was born in 1775, was much older. They say that the young girl in the painting is just too pretty to be the author of Pride and Prejudice.
"The author of Jane Austen's novels couldn't possibly look like this, or they would be very different novels," author, poet and critic Clive James tells Renee Montagne.
"Jane Austen was not outstandingly beautiful or she'd be remembered as that," James says. "It's definitely not in the character of the books to be about a beautiful woman. They are about a woman who is not beautiful yet who has other virtues.
"Jane Austen was the person you didn't notice at the ball, but she noticed everything. That was her role."
Frankly, I am not touching this with a ten-foot long opinion, but I am very curious to hear what all of you think. (Or at least I am keeping my opinion to myself for the time being.)
Clearly a woman who is attractive can also be an elegant writer, but was the writer of books like Pride and Prejudice one of those or a more common looking loner? Does being unattractive make you a better writer?
More on the controversy on the Christie's webiste.
While you amuse yourselves considering that question, an excerpt from Pride and Prejudice is below the fold:
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it."
Mr. Bennet made no answer.
"Do not you want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.
"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."
This was invitation enough.
"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."
"What is his name?"
"Bingley."
"Is he married or single?"
"Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!"
"How so? how can it affect them?"
"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."
"Is that his design in settling here?"
"Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes."
"I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might like you the best of the party."
"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be any thing extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty."
"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of."
"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood."
"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."
"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general you know they visit no new comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not."
"You are over scrupulous surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying which ever he chuses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy."
"I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference."
"They have none of them much to recommend them," replied he; "they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters." (Emphasis mine.)
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Odd how Mr James mentions two good reasons why the portrait is unlikely to be of Austin - the anachronistic hair and clothing - before discarding them in favour of a truely stupid reason.
James is actually quite a well known and respected art critic, and should be far too intelligent to make the kind of dumb remark attributed to him. Which makes me suspect he didn't say it. It wouldn't be the first time a journalist completely misunderstood what they'd been told, or even invented the whole thing.
I once knew an artist who found a complete transcript of an interview with him that he'd never given, printed in a newspaper. He used the clipping to make his next work.
Yeah, I think Clive James is wrong. It's a common misconception that Jane Austen was "the person you didn't notice at the ball, but she noticed everything. That was her role." But that's just the same simple-minded stereotype that people ascribe to all authors!
The fact is (and most people who've read any Austen biography have read this), she was a lively and engaging person, who was admired by everyone for her cleverness.
And really, Jake, how could anyone think that a painting could be an accurate representation of how "attractive" someone is? I mean, some photographs of beautiful people can come out bad. And check out the portrait of Austen at the beginning of this memoir by her nephew, in which he calls her "very attractive." It's a terrible picture! Attractive? How can it be evaluated from a painting?
I think James is just being flamboyant. That's how he's made his living, after all...
OK, this is the first time I have heard that you can tell what a person looks like by what she writes, assuming the writer doesn't actually say what she looks like.
I think Clive James's comment is outrageous. Since when did it become germane to speculate about how an author's physical appearance had an impact on his books? The thing that bugs me is that I can't imagine anyone even thinking to make this argument about a man. Like: "Laurence Sterne couldn't have been handsome because his books definitely aren't about what it's like to be an exceptionally handsome man?" That barely even parses.
James's comment is just dumb.
Of course, if Austen had been beautiful, she would have married a rich man and never had to write books at all . . .
Sounds like the typical attitude towards a lot of women in the past (and, sadly, continuing on to this day). They're either pretty and empty-headed, hideous and sweet/interesting/brilliant, or hideous and ugly. God, it'll be nice when women are allowed to be smart AND pretty or even, god forbid, just plain plain.
Beauty, schmooty...Jane Austen is on my all-time A-list of people you'd want to have a beer with (W ain't in't). I just lost a favorite cousin who approached her league. He was funny, smart, and hilariously venomous. We always sat together with him at weddings and funerals.
My guess is that the painter made as flattering a likeness as possible while still maintaining some resemblance to his subject.
First thing that came to my mind was that the concepts of beauty then and today are very different, so that she might actually be pretty by our standards, but not by contemporary ones. And I've never read a description of her that said she was beautiful.
Apart from that, if her immediate family knew the portrait to be genuine, how could some know-it-all scientist deny it a hundred years later?
Evolving standards of beauty aside, why is it implied that beauty itself was all the was necessary to be desirably? Austen could've been beautiful, but that's no assurance that she would've been successful in love or even brave enough to pursue it. Beautiful wallflowers are everywhere. As are novelists whose understandings of human nature are deep enough to transcend their personal experience.
All of us--XX and XY--know exactly what NPR "expert" here means. We don't see Austen as a babe for complex reasons. Example: many years ago a new postdoc came to our lab who was the greatest looking female ever to grace the benches of a very prestigious West Coast institute. We all had to get a look at her so the XXs could cringe and the XYs could salivate. All of us XXs hoped she turned out to be a loser scientist and probably a lot of the XYs did, too. But she was brilliant, and worse--extremely kind and nice. How to process this?
Bottom line is we expect beautiful women to be trophies not doers--even in 2007. We don't expect that they will be stupid, we just expect that less attractive women will try harder, which we often do for a simple reason--that that is how we gain recognition. If one could gain recognition just by being decorative, the temptation would be to stop there. This is not rocket science--just human nature. Name an extraordinarily beautiful (or handsome for that matter) scientist, politician, corporate executive.
Exceptions are media/show biz-based celebs--there we expect women to be both beautiful and accomplished.
But take heart! The literary world is starting to require that XXs be brilliant (as was Austen) AND hot. Case in point: A hoity toity lit magazine run by 25 year old XYs was recently salivating over cover pics of Jhumpa Lahiri in her books (have a look at sex kitten pose on paperback "Namesake"). Do you think Austen (or Philip Roth or Jonathan Lethem) would pose like that? So women are making progress, right? Now we would believe--no! expect!--that Austen was hot.
This is one of the dumbest things I have ever heard. I'll just add it to my burgeoning file of Really Stupid Things Men Say About Intelligent Women. As one other commenter already noted, you can't even imagine the analagous comment being made about a male writer: he can't have been good-looking because his books weren't about what it's like to be a totally hot dude. Makes me want to puke on Clive James's shoes.