Austen and Prejudice

Austen and Prejudice March 27, 2007

Austen’s Pride and Prejudice is often interpreted by linking the principal characters with the two flaws of the title. Darcy is “pride” and Elizabeth “prejudice.” This way of reading the book gets at some important themes, but it doesn’t quite get at the crux of the issues raised by the book. It’s true that Elizabeth is associated with prejudice, but trying to discern exactly how she is guilty of prejudice is helpful for getting us into an overall interpretation of the book – and of self, society, and the moral life in society.

That it fails to satisfy is evident in some of the critical literature, where a number of articles have raised the question of whether Elizabeth is really guilty of “prejudice.” Robert Fox claims that Elizabeth is not really guilty of prejudice, but of vanity, because she dislikes Darcy because of his snub of her at the ball.


Fox takes Mary’s definitions as valid: “Pride relates to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.” Darcy is not vain, because he couldn’t care less what other people think. But he is proud, having a high opinion of his own importance. Elizabeth is vain, however, in that she is concerned about what other people will think of her, particularly Darcy.

But this doesn’t really match what Austen tells us about Elizabeth and the sources of her dislike of Darcy. She does say that she could “easily forgive HIS pride, if he had not mortified MINE,” but earlier we read that Elizabeth seemed quite thoroughly un-mortified at Darcy’s insult. Immediately after Darcy’s insult, we read, “Elizabeth remained with no cordial feelings towards him. She told the story however with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.” Telling all her friends about Darcy’s insult is not the action of a mortified girl, or a vain one (p. 7).

Austen, moreover, knows what she’s about. If she says “prejudice,” she means “prejudice.” There were a variety of meanings for the term in the 18th century, but the idea of prejudice as (OED) “preconceived opinion; bias or leaning favourable or unfavourable; prepossession” was known in Austen’s time. The OED cites d’Urfrey axiom that “Who rails at faults through personal prejudice/ Shows more his own, than shames the other’s vice.” An agricultural treatise of 1765 referred to “a person who divests himself of prejudice, and attachment to any particular opinion.” In his great assault on the French Revolution, Burke defended prejudice: “Prejudice renders a man’s virtue his habit . . . . Through just prejudice, his duty becomes a part of his nature.”

Austen uses the term only a handful of times, mostly in the latter parts of the book. The first use is in an exchange in Book 1, chapter 18:

“I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created.”

“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.

“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”

“I hope not.”

“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.”

The term as used in this conversation fits with the OED definition – a prejudgment, a preconceived opinion. Since Darcy’s opinions are fixed, his resentment unappeasable, it’s important for him to form a right opinion from the beginning, rather than being blinded by prejudice.

The next usage is found at the beginning of the chapter in which Elizabeth reads Darcy’s letter of defense:

“IF Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power; and stedfastly was she persuaded that he could have no explanation to give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong prejudice against every thing he might say, she began his account of what had happened at Netherfield. She read, with an eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister’s insensibility, she instantly resolved to be false, and his account of the real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence.

“But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham, when she read, with somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events, which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself, her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!” — and when she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing any thing of the last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not regard it, that she would never look in it again.”

Again, “prejudice” means a predisposition or preconceived opinion about what Darcy might have to say in his own defense. As it turns out, the letter breaks down the disposition, the prejudice, and revises “every cherished opinion of his worth.”


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