Darcy's Passions is the story of Pride & Prejudice from Darcy's point of view (mostly). There are dozens of these books on the market. And I've never been able to get through one of them.
I'm sorry to report that I couldn't get through Darcy's Passions either. Part of the problem with all these books is the writing; part of the problem is the characterization of Darcy--which brings us back to the writing.
First, the writing: many of these authors try to sound Austenian but end up sounding either ultra-modern or stilted. The 18th/19th century voice is terrifically difficult to pull off. The only contemporary writer who comes close is Susanna Clarke (Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell), and she is magnificient.
The real problem, though, is that these authors don't just write in a normal voice. I'm not saying Austen wrote in a "normal" voice—I personally think Austen's authorial voice was cultivated. But it was normal for her. Jeffers' attempt at Austen is better than many, but the switch in viewpoint doesn't sound omniscient and humorous (as it does with Austen); it just sounds confused.
Jeffers' Darcy, unfortunately, also seems a mix of confusing and unrelated elements. Like in so many of these types of books, her Darcy is a collection of added thoughts to already existant text. The added thoughts are all, I am sorry to say, standard romantic fare. He is overwhelmed by Elizabeth. He is more overwhelmed by Elizabeth. He is impressed by her wit and anxious to exchange witticisms with her. He despises Miss Bingley. He is confused when the text absolutely requires him to be confused. He is masterly and insightful all the rest of the time.
In other words, it's typical Alpha male romance stuff and completely inconsistent with Austen's text. (To her credit, Jeffers is one of the few "other" writers whose "add-ons" include Darcy's knowledge of land management.) The result is a gloss of Austen, not any real insight into Darcy's character.
I personally go along with Phyllis Ferguson Bottomer's argument in So Odd a Mixture that Darcy is borderline autistic. Her delineation of Darcy's character is one of the most accurate and delightful on record. She recognizes what few interpretations do: namely, Darcy is accused of pride in Hertfordshire for reasons that have nothing to do with familial or class pride.
Most "other" versions of Pride & Prejudice focus on Darcy's supposedly prideful thoughts rather than realizing, as my mother did long before Bottomer, that all of Darcy's problems in Hertfordshire stem from his behavior, not from his beliefs about himself (which beliefs he never communicates to anyone but Elizabeth anyway). He is perceived as proud because he won't dance or talk, not because he boasts about his position or even because he gives anyone the "cut direct." He doesn't even cut poor Mr. Collins.
In other words, Darcy is accused of pride for the wrong reasons—and the accusations rest NOT on Darcy's sense of superior class (which he does, in fact, feel) but on Darcy's anti-social behavior. In other words, what Darcy thinks of as "pride" and what Hertfordshire and Elizabeth, to a degree, think of as "pride" is not the same thing. This results in the fascinating argument about their faults between Elizabeth and Darcy at Netherfield; they clash partly because they are talking about two different things. Elizabeth is quicker than Darcy at picking up on the communication gap, but, as Bottomer points out, Elizabeth continues to assume reasons for Darcy's behavior that are actually inaccurate; it never occurs to Elizabeth, and it never seems to occur to "other" writers, that Darcy is shy or uncomfortable. It did, however, occur to Austen, to Colin Firth, to my mom, and to Bottomer.
This brings us back to the writing I've encountered in most of these books. In an effort to write like Austen—and in an effort to present a prideful but romantic Darcy—the writers focus on TELLING (not SHOWING). I'm told how overwhelmed and passionate Darcy feels, how prideful he is, how Mrs. Bennett disgusts him, but I never actually hear Darcy's thoughts.
Soooo, I have attempted to create my own version of Darcy's point of view. In that version, I do NOT have Darcy perceive Elizabeth's positive attributes (or any of her attributes) right away. I think this is more realistic that having her fell him on the spot (though I kind of like that scene in the latest movie). In the first chapter, I also don't have him notice that Miss Bingley is being catty or that the ladies are probably whispering about him or even that Elizabeth might be able to overhear his remarks to Bingley. The problem with so many "Darcy's point of view" authors is that they give us this Alpha romantic male who always knows what everyone is thinking, especially women, and who always picks up on innuendos and subtexts. It never seems to occur to these writers that Darcy is clueless because, let's face it, so many people are.
To give Jeffers credit, her Darcy is kind of clueless: he thinks Elizabeth likes him because she is playful in her rejections: she flirts, ergo, she loves me! Still, Jeffers has Darcy deliberately provoking Elizabeth, so he can exchange witty repartee with her. In other words, Jeffers makes Darcy the typical fictional Alpha male who is always on top of, expert at, social situations. I don't think this interpretation is in keeping with the original text at all. Darcy doesn't do repartee. His remarks are almost always literal and straightforward. Elizabeth's triumph is not that Darcy loves bantering with her, but that she so often provokes him into saying what he thinks; what he thinks isn't witty or covered with savoir faire. Actually, most of the time, what he thinks is kind of rude.
Here is the scene where I believe Darcy DOES truly notice Elizabeth for the first time; my choice is supported by the text. And yes, Darcy is critical of Elizabeth in the original text:
Elizabeth Bennett had lovely dark eyes. She was a trifle short, her smile was crooked, and she was far from elegant. She wasn't shrill though, being easy to listen to. At the Lucas's, Darcy placed himself in a group near her. He also listened to her sing. She wasn't as polished or as adept as his sister Georgiana, but the songs were well-rendered: pleasing. She was a pleasing, intelligent young woman.NOTE: This post has been edited; some of the below comments refer to the first chapter (which was originally posted here).
The Lucas's entertainment went downhill after that, and some couples started to dance which didn't bode well for the rest of the evening: why did people want to hop around rather than converse on interesting subjects? Darcy glanced around for Mr. Long, hoping they could continue their conversation about tax laws.
He found he was next to Sir William who was prattling: "There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society."
"Every savage can dance," Darcy pointed out, but Sir William was making pleasantries, not actual conversation, and Darcy subsided. Sir William began to ask Darcy pointless questions about his dance habits, and Darcy glowered—if he stopped answering, maybe Sir William would go away.
The questions finally ceased, and Darcy was ready to move off when he realized Sir William was presenting Miss Elizabeth Bennett to him as a potential dancing partner. Darcy held out a hand, but Miss Elizabeth refused. Correctly, Darcy allowed: this wasn't an appropriate venue for a dance. Still, he bowed and repeated Sir William's proposal. She was after all, preferable—much preferable—to another five minutes of questions about where and when Darcy liked to dance.
She raised her brows, and her eyes—dark brown with flecks of gold—met Darcy's momentarily. She was, he was disconcerted to see, amused—by Sir William, he guessed. It occurred to Darcy that amusement was probably a better tactic with someone like Sir William than monosyllabic responses, and he wondered if he should smile back, but Miss Elizabeth had moved away. He gazed after her, marking the straight line of her back and her dark curls. She turned to pass a remark to Miss Lucas, and he noted again the liveliness of her eyes when Miss Lucas made her laugh.
Miss Bingley had approached. She was talking in her rapid, caustic way. Darcy caught the last sentence: "What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"
On Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth, Darcy assumed. He had no strictures. He said so: "I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."
"Which lady has the credit of inspiring such reflections?"
"Miss Elizabeth Bennett."
She began to tease him about wanting to marry Miss Elizabeth—typical for a woman. Darcy shrugged and occupied himself with watching Miss Elizabeth until the evening finally ended.
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