Lizzie's Refusal of Mr. Darcy's Proposal is not as civilized as her refusal to Mr. Collins...Let's just say she kind of let's it all out...
Look at Elizabeth Bennet how she snarls and spews venomous words as her temper roils up to the boiling point at Mr. Darcy’s clueless rampage of insults. She bares her teeth and literally is heaving afterward like a wild dog after a fight.
I felt like that this morning when my buttons were pushed just the right way on top of the numerous stresses of today’s world have mounted so high, that I, a well controlled, empathetic, schooled in the art of counseling, yes, I lost my temper. I am trying to forgive myself for I am the adult, like Lizzie, was trained to be a lady, to comport myself in the most acceptable manner, and yet, the adult, the supposedly mature one, the intelligent, thoughtful, loving and considerate adult yelled and threw a plate into the sink shattering a casserole pan that had been lying there innocently; it had never done anything to me. I even hesitated before throwing that lunch plate in the sink; I actually thought a mere second before doing so that I really should not do this action, but man, I wanted to throw it hard with everything I got, and did. I regretted it afterward. You can’t take it back. You can’t play rewind. But I guess I needed to release bottled up emotions that have been stuffed down and repressed and denied for too long. Was that how Lizzie felt?
I spoke with my family afterward and we all calmly talked about what happened, what's happening in our lives, what we all are facing, going through, and how we all feel about it all. The air is clear, but I still have to forgive myself for losing "control." It's not okay, really. But it happened and I am human and need to forgive myself. I have a punching bag downstairs I could have wailed on, but anyway....
I thought of the scene in the rain where Elizabeth Bennet lets it all out on Mr. Darcy like an angry mother wolf. Perhaps, Elizabeth had many stresses in her life too that had been piled up inside her. Actually, there is no perhaps, she does have many worries on her mind. They have Mr. Collins threatening their homestead, the pressure of being a female and needing to marry well, and she prays to God that she can marry for love…which her friend Charlotte pointed out is a luxury which Charlotte, at 27, couldn't do. Lizzie refused Mr. Collin's marriage proposal and may feel a bit guilty for she could have surely saved her family from poverty if she sealed that union, but she didn't, couldn't. Elizabeth is like the second mother of the household and is fiercely protective of her sisters, Jane’s heart breaking breaks her own. She loves all of her younger sisters and says good night to all of them as if she was the eldest, which she is not. She sees that they are all tucked in safe and secure in their beds. Perhaps that moment in the rain, when Mr. Darcy makes Elizabeth all too painfully aware of her lower birth, her families’ ridiculousness at times, and her sister's supposed apathy toward Mr. Bingley, Lizzie combusted.
I can’t excuse my outburst, but I think on occasion, it is a relieving thing to do as long as no one gets hurt. The world today has made it so difficult with finances dwindling amidst a more and more expensive technological world, jobs that are fewer and fewer, and the loss of the carefree feeling of security…obligation and duty forces our stagnation. Writing, painting, and exercising are far better outlets for combating the stresses of the world, but letting it out in a verbal tempest is sometimes unavoidable and necessary.
Hey, Mr. Darcy heard Elizabeth’s every word, and used the form of letter writing to rebuke her accusations and maybe, in someway, her snarling refusal of his proposal moved them forward in their relationship.
The same could be true in my household. After “losing it” on the kitchen sink, my family talked about many things. We opened a door to further discussion and understanding of each other. We all have our own pressures; talking about it and respecting what each other is going through is what came out of my snarling tempest.
I'm done panting and heaving...time to get outside and get some fresh air...painting later. Sir William Rosemont has color!!!
