Author's Notes: This story was original posted at A Happy Assembly in March of 2017 for the Playground theme of "Best Set Down."
As someone who actually feels quite a bit of sympathy to Fanny Price as well as quite a bit of antipathy to Henry Crawford (and other Mansfield Park characters). I feel that if anyone deserves to go into a Hulk-like rage it's her, but that's not her style. But one part of the book really got me steamed up enough to write two different versions of this set-down. What you're getting is the second, which I'm still not entirely satisfied with. But here it is.
This is inspired by the rage Edmund induces in me in his talking with Fanny in Chapter 35 of Mansfield Park. Also normally I wouldn't use this much text from the original in the lead in, but I really wanted to give the flavor of what's going on, though frankly the whole previous conversation angers me, but I had to draw the line somewhere, so check out the chapter in question, if you want to see all of the lead up. But to give a sum up. Fanny Price has turned down Henry Crawford's proposal to the surprise of everyone. Edmund has decided that it's up to Fanny to decide whether or not to confide in him, but then his father asks him to try his influence with her, so he does. He starts out sympathetic and telling her if she doesn't love Henry Crawford then she was right to refuse him. But then it turns into him not really listening to what she has to say while encouraging her to change her mind.
Also obviously, Fanny's a little out of character, since this is not what she did in the book.
You Must, Of Course, Be Right
Or
Fanny Price Discovers Sarcasm
"The surprise of your refusal, Fanny, seems to have been unbounded. That you could refuse such a man as Henry Crawford seems more than they [his sisters] can understand. I said what I could for you; but in good truth, as they stated the case—you must prove yourself to be in your senses as soon as you can by a different conduct; nothing else will satisfy them. But this is teasing you. I have done. Do not turn away from me."
"I should have thought," said Fanny, after a pause of recollection and exertion, "that every woman must have felt the possibility of a man's not being approved, not being loved by some one of her sex at least, let him be ever so generally agreeable. Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself. But, even supposing it is so, allowing Mr. Crawford to have all the claims which his sisters think he has, how was I to be prepared to meet him with any feeling answerable to his own? He took me wholly by surprise. I had not an idea that his behaviour to me before had any meaning; and surely I was not to be teaching myself to like him only because he was taking what seemed very idle notice of me. In my situation, it would have been the extreme of vanity to be forming expectations on Mr. Crawford. I am sure his sisters, rating him as they do, must have thought it so, supposing he had meant nothing. How, then, was I to be— to be in love with him the moment he said he was with me? How was I to have an attachment at his service, as soon as it was asked for? His sisters should consider me as well as him. The higher his deserts, the more improper for me ever to have thought of him. And, and—we think very differently of the nature of women, if they can imagine a woman so very soon capable of returning an affection as this seems to imply."
"My dear, dear Fanny, now I have the truth. I know this to be the truth; and most worthy of you are such feelings. I had attributed them to you before. I thought I could understand you. You have now given exactly the explanation which I ventured to make for you to your friend and Mrs. Grant, and they were both better satisfied, though your warm–hearted friend was still run away with a little by the enthusiasm of her fondness for Henry. I told them that you were of all human creatures the one over whom habit had most power and novelty least; and that the very circumstance of the novelty of Crawford's addresses was against him. Their being so new and so recent was all in their disfavour; that you could tolerate nothing that you were not used to; and a great deal more to the same purpose, to give them a knowledge of your character. Miss Crawford made us laugh by her plans of encouragement for her brother. She meant to urge him to persevere in the hope of being loved in time, and of having his addresses most kindly received at the end of about ten years' happy marriage."
Fanny took a deep breath or two. How could Edmund make sport of her like this? Toy with her feelings and then press her to do exactly that which he said he would not do. For so long she had looked up to him, adored him, and now he showed how little he truly understood her at all. Almost under her breath, she said, "Why should I not? You have certainly turned away from me."
"What was that, Fanny?" he asked, leaning closer to her.
A burning resentment unlike any she had ever known bubbled up within her, but the habitual deference she always displayed mixed in with it to create something entirely new to her.
"Forgive me, cousin. I believe I have become intemperate. Perhaps, it was learning that you, my most beloved cousin, whom I thought I could count on, would allow me to be made sport of by another, even if she is the woman you are attached to, and that you would repeat it to me at such at time. It seems my vision is perpetually clouded in comparison to all my relatives. I had thought you cared for me and my happiness..."
"I do, Fanny, I do. What do you think this conversation has been about?"
"About you and about what you want and what you desire. It certainly has not been about me... Oh, you began well, and it brought me such comfort to have such sympathy and understanding after everyone has been against me. But then to discover it was nothing more than a ploy to press Mr. Crawford's suit. That you would jest that you would have aided him in his attempts to break my heart, for I cannot believe that there was any sincerity in his initial pursuit, not after I witnessed his attentions to Maria." She paused and shook her head.
"No, of course, I forget. I did not see what I saw. His flirtations could not be serious because he was destined to love me, who he saw not at all during this time. Nor did I wish to be seen by him. This raises him in your opinion though you say that you had doubts. Doubts now erased. I, of course, am to believe that he is sincere when I saw nothing but insincerity. But of course, I did not see that.
"Just as since you find a difference in temperaments preferable, even when those temperaments require a bending of principles to become compatible, I am to put my trust in a man who sees no difficulties, whose morals I cannot think well of. I am to yield because prudence and other people's desires wish it. I am the ungrateful one for not wishing to become another man's conscience or to fear what will happen when he becomes bored with a wife who hates the thought of mixing in with great society and who is happiest at home. And yet you believe he will make me happy, simply because that is what you prefer for yourself. So that his sister will be pleased, I am to be consigned to misery. But then of course, I cannot see what others see.
"Thank you, dear cousin for being so clear. You take on yourself all the folly of the play and thus there could be no worse folly on the parts of others. And so generally immune to folly are you, you could not miss it. You must, of course, be right. But right or not, blind or not, I cannot put my faith in others. You may go back to Miss Crawford and tell her I am the greatest fool in the country because I will not entrust myself to a man I cannot trust," she said, and then softer her voice breaking, "and I am the greatest fool for believing you would truly care for my happiness. You were so kind to me when I was small, and you were my friend (I remember all the kindnesses you showed me with gratitude), but I am now an inconvenience or an object of mockery. Forgive me, cousin, to think of you laughing about me in such a way over such a subject... you are not the man I thought you were. I cannot bear to be around you another moment." She turned and ran, leaving Edmund gaping and silent behind her.
End Notes:
This is the first time I've crossposted a Mansfield Park fic as I rarely read fanfiction for this book and wasn't sure what kind of reaction it would get, but now I have three short pieces, and have decided to take a chance on posting them at FFN and AO3.
