I’ve been thinking a lot about Lizzy and Charlotte, and it seems weird to me that these two friends would have a fight when Charlotte announces her engagement, but then be pretty chummy 10 seconds later when Lizzy goes to visit her in Hertfordshire. Clearly, something happened here that we are not privy to as the audience.
I get that the director needed to move at a pretty good clip to keep the plot within two hours, so for my 9th day of watching and blogging, I’ve tried to close some plot holes in a series of imagined letters.
These communications occur after Lizzy and Charlotte have their fight at Longbourn, but before Lizzy visits the Collinses. (Please note the proper pluralization of a family name that ends in S and take notes for your holiday cards.)
I hope this exercise fills in some of the questions I’m sure we all have about these scenes.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me when you came to share your engagement news. While I still can’t fully understand why you’ve chosen to accept Mr. Collins’s proposal in particular, I do understand the reasons you outlined in your argument and I want you to know that I, too, worry about ending up as a burden to my parents. Of course, as one of the prettier sisters, I probably won’t have to care for my parents in their dotage—that honor will undoubtably go to Mary.
Of course, at 27, you’re much closer to death than I am, but you’re still my friend and I always wish the best for you in these, your twilight years.
So, tell me, do you delight in running your own home? What is married life like?
Also, could you possibly send some help? I’ve been spinning on this swing since you left, and it’s been a little crazy out there. Every time I make a full rotation there’s something new in the yard and I’m starting to worry that I might be stuck in a time loop.
Always your dearest friend,
I was so pleased to receive your letter. Thank you for your almost-apology. I almost-accept.
Married life is so wonderful. I often encourage my husband to spend most of his time out of doors, and I spend most of my time in the drawing room studying or visiting our parishioners. I also have managed to convince him that the door to our room is broken and locked shut, but somehow only at night, so I’ve really been enjoying getting a full night’s sleep.
I’m so sorry to hear about the swing. Sounds like a personal problem.
I’m so happy to hear you’re enjoying life with my odious cousin Mr. Collins. Have you abutted your humble cottage on his estate yet?
What is life like so close to Rosings Park? Has the estimable Lady Catherine paid you a visit? I’d love to hear some shit about all the news of Miss DeBourgh. Is she pretty and accomplished? Does she speak all the modern languages, play piano to perfection, broaden her mind through extensive reading and embroider cushions? (Mr. Darcy would have no less, I’m sure.)
Update on the swing issue: Still going. There’s now a boat in the courtyard. Now there’s some chickens. Sometimes I spin around and I see the same part of the courtyard twice, even though I should be looking out into the opposite direction. I’m starting to wonder if this is both a temporal and locational shift. A rift in time and space, if you will. Can you please inform my family that I’m of good health and cheer, but starting to get very dizzy?
Ever your own,
Anne DeBourgh is ugly AF and coughs more than Kitty. No worries there, I got you boo.
Bad news: Mr. Collins has figured out the lock situation, so instead, I explained to him what those soiled cloths in the corner of the privy were for. That should hold him off for at least another month. (I told him periods last a month! Brilliant thinking on my part, honestly.)
So sorry to hear the spinning is still an issue… I should think you’d run out of momentum sooner or later. I’ll send Maria to come see what she can do. She apparently doesn’t exist in this universe so she might have better insight into your time-shifting swing paradox.
All my love,
Thank you ever so much for sending Maria to help. I’m not sure exactly what it was she did, but it sounded like she whispered some sort of unholy incantation over the swing and everything went black for awhile. However, I wound up in my own bed and things seem normal enough, so I’m not really going to question it. (Is staring into mirrors for hours on end normal? I honestly can’t remember if I did that before or not.)
Next month you should point Mr. Collins to the nearest sheep pen. It sounds like he might be spending a lot of time with them.
Hey now that your swing issue is over, want to come visit? I know Collins won’t even try it if there’s a guest in the house. The walls are too thin and I told him I’m a screamer. (Thank you for your idea but I’ve already considered it and I have to save the sheep as a last resort.)
I don’t see why not. I’m sure nothing exciting is going to happen to me in Hertfordshire either, and at least it’ll get me away from my younger sisters. Do me a favor though and cover all your mirrors just as a precaution, ok? I’ve been losing a lot of hours lately.
(Miss the first eight craaaazy nights of 25 Days of Pride & Prejudice? Catch up on them all here:)
And now that it’s over, here’s all the rest: