Entries 1

Posted on Saturday, 29 October 2005

As told by:
Miss Georgiana Darcy, Miss Catherine Bennet, and Miss Mary Bennet
Beauty, Belle, and Bluestocking, respectively

Miss Mary Bennet
Longbourne, Hertfordshire
Dated: 22 August 1812

It is often the case, as I have recently ascertained, that marriages occur quite a majority of the time from minute and inconsequential infatuations that dissolve as rapidly as they were formed, leaving the aforesaid persons unhappily-yet voluntarily-succumbed to the bonds of matrimony . And, as it can be surmised, from the thoughtless and ignorant actions of those whose hearts are stirred by beauty and grace, that such a dangerous practice of acting upon one’s ‘heart’ leads only to the gradual disinclination of both parties as soon as the wedding has been consummated.

Therefore, after an abbreviated period of studying and taking notes upon various local weddings, couples, ect., I come before this journal in all relative hopes upon proving my theory that marriage, and all its entailments, oddities, and quirks, is not the happy state that so many proclaim it to be, and, furthermore, would endeavor to prove such a controversial theory by stating three claims as to its natural disadvantages:

1. Mr. and Mrs. George Bennet
   Longbourne, Hertfordshire
   My father’s intellect was not in its perfunary state of normalcy when, so distracted by a fragment of youthful beauty found within my mother, was forced to succumb to matrimony, leading to twenty some odd years of inequality and distempterment.
2. Mr. and Mrs. George Wickham
   Current Place of Residence Unknown
   A conniving blackheart (or so informed repeatedly by my father, my older sister, Elizabeth, my younger sister, Catherine, and, occasionally, Mr. Darcy, the aforesaid elder sister’s husband) Mr. Wickham unduly acted upon a brief infatuation to my empty-headed (so proclaimed by myself) and witless slip of a sister, which led to a disgraceful elopement and eventual marriage.
3. Mr. and Mrs. William Collins
   Hunsford Parsonage, Kent
   While Mr. Collins is a man of great intellect and reverent devotion, he is still of that nature which often leads to the sinister enactment of being considered rather ‘dull’ and ‘toady’ by all who come into acquaintance with him.

Moving onwards, I now present the disintegratement of royal marriages, namely those of the infamous King Henry the VIII, an utterly immoral person whom I aspire, with all intentions, to greatly dislike. And, as for the unfortunate six women he took as his wives, I have only to note his gross infatuation with the provision of an heir was the key factor that led to such scandalous marital bonds, which, naturally, he was apt to break at any which point that he chose.

How entirely fortunate that such unruly conduct is not to be exercised in times such as these-I entirely to shudder to think at such a thought. But, this example only proves that men fall out of love as quickly as they fall in it.

Thus, I prove my case, that marriage is a great folly-more so to be avoided than desired. Men are fickle and tiresome, wishing to have their own way and seeing no other point of view. And, as for those minute infatuations, which become binding matrimonial ties, well, it would be much easier to simply avoid them in the first place. It is on this note that I take my leave, promising fully never to marry, be he wealthy, handsome, or predominately intelligent.

In Studious Repose,

Mary Bennet

Miss Catherine Bennet
Longbourne, Hertfordshire
Dated: 23 August 1812

Oh, la! What a lark! What a tremendous joke! Oh, how Lizzy and Lydia would roll with laughter if only they could hear. Imagine! Mary, of all people, prim and proper Mary with her neat little wire-rimmed spectacles and tight spinster bun having, of all things, a diary! What a joke! I am smiling broadly even now as I write it.

Oh, and I am quite certain she has one, too, for I walked in on her in the drawing room scribbling away furiously in it. She slammed it hastily when she saw me enter, (I was nosily searching for a bonnet) and had the writing concealed as I innocently cast her a wide-eyed, blank expression. Unfortunately, demureness does not suit me and she was instantly on her guard.

“What do you want, Kitty?” she asked me sharply, eyeing me with her usual superior complex. “If you are searching for Mama, she is upstairs in her apartments.”

Imagine, calling Mama’s bedrooms apartments, but never-mind Mary’s vocabulary. I replied that I was searching for the bonnet. Had she seen it lying about anywhere?

She replied that she had not and thought that was the end of the conversation, but, in a hasty and thoughtless rush, I was in a heap at her feet, eyes batting slyly as I employed another means of combat. As you can ascertain, I am, by nature, a very curious person.

“Oh! How deliciously scandalous!” I told her impertinently, slipping my hand about the velvet-colored volume, though she rapidly slapped it away. “Is that a diary, dearest of all Marys?”

She looked rather aghast, and, her mouth hanging open quite foolishly, I was pleased I had caught her at such an offhand moment.

“It is not a diary,” she said, after a moment or two of collecting her wits, “it is merely a collection of studious reflections I have been composing for my own benefit.” Her face, by this point, was quite crimson, and I could tell by her manner that she was not telling the truth.

“Well, then, if it is merely a bit of studious reflections, perhaps I should read it to better prepare my mind for higher academic aspirations?” This was said stoutly, with my eyes still batting innocently as she angrily pushed aside my hands.

“No,” said forcibly and in a tone of finality. My hopes of reading the diary were, at that point in time, crushed. “Now let me alone. I believe one of your soldier friends is walking up the drive as we speak. Run along and go converse with him.”

It was not, as Mary had informed me, one of my soldier friends, but merely Mr. Meriden, the latest edition to our neighborhood. Oh, but fear not! He is so drolly unhandsome, with a set of whiskers and a potbelly that I should never fall in love with him. Mama says he is one of the richest men in the county, but he is twice my elder and so I say bah! Besides, he has an infatuation with one of the Long spinsters and I say better luck towards him.

As for Mary’s diary, I am absolutely determined to discover her most secret recordings. Tonight, while she is practicing Mozart, I shall sneak into her room and look under the floorboard (she does not know I have discovered her hiding place) to uncover her possible loves and aspirations. Dear me! I am positively shaking from anticipation!

Yours in Secrecy,

Kitty

Miss Georgiana Darcy
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dated: 23 August 1812

I am afraid that I have upset my brother. We were dining in the breakfast parlor when I asked him if I could invite my dearest friend, Miss Margaret Wallace, over for tea tomorrow afternoon. Being as though he seemed obviously distracted, he rather angrily responded with a ‘no’, leading to my dissolvement into tears, Elizabeth’s beratement of his actions, and the eventual cold atmosphere that settled in upon the house.

Dear Elizabeth, I love her as a sister. Our house has been so joyful since her arrival; such events as the above are rare indeed. My brother is as jubilant and happy as ever I have seen him, and I must confess I myself am feeling much more airy and light-hearted. Lizzy’s younger sister, Catherine, is to visit us in March, and, while I am nervous over a new acquaintance, I will be everything that is amiable to my dearest sister-in-law’s relation. Oh! But now my brother has come to apologize. I shall resume writing later.

Affectionately,

Georgiana Darcy