Sarcasm may be the lowest form of wit, but the skilful use of irony is much prized. Pride and Prejudice begins, as we all know, with an ironic opening statement, and the book is full of the stuff, in various forms, from start to finish. The ironic tone of Pride and Prejudice is also one of the reasons that the book manages to be all things to all people. Irony can be hard to interpret in specific cases, and its purpose is more generally open to question. Here are two ways in which critics have tried to make sense of the gentle, ironic tone of Pride and Prejudice.

Mr Bingley must be in want of a wife!

Irony and Radicalism

According to one view, Jane Austen used irony as a shield, which allowed her to express her radical ideas. Think of the authority figures and national icons that are savaged in the book: a vicar (Collins), an officer in Her Majesty’s Armed Forces (Wickham), and an aristocrat (Lady Catherine.)

D. W. Harding’s article, partly reprinted in Robert Morrison’s 2005 Pride and Prejudice Sourcebook, argues that:

[Jane Austen's] thesis that the ruling standards of our social group leave a perfectly comfortable niche for detestable people and give them sufficient sanction to persist would, if it were argued seriously, arouse the most violent opposition…

As well as the key villains of the story, consider also the treatment of the major social institutions of the day. Marriage, the family, aspects of the class system, and the entailing of property along gendered lines, all receive a mauling in the novel.

In maintaining this gentle, mocking tone while dealing with controversial themes, Mrs. Bennet’s role is particularly important. She can be seen as something of a Shakespearean fool in Pride and Prejudice. Ironically, she is (to an extent!) sane in an insane world. Her social ineptness allows her to speak the truth about the unfairness of the system that threatens her daughters with lives of poverty and humiliation. She speaks honestly and openly about throwing her girls into the paths of rich men, and of course she has a point. Marriage was the only hope for educated ladies of the era, but only Mrs. Bennet has the ability to talk openly about it. And yet she is condemned as a woman of ‘illiberal mind’ and ‘mean understanding.’

Irony and Conservatism

The other view is that irony comes from moderation, and is therefore more of a conservative literary tool. It reflects a kind of awareness of the less admirable aspects of the human condition, alongside a belief that such things are impossible to change. British satire has always had its conservative strand, which comes from skepticism about grand social statements and projects. As critic Alan Bloom, also cited in Robert Morrison’s Sourcebook, put it:

Irony flourishes on the disproportion of the way things are and the way they should be, while accepting the necessity of this disproportion.

As long as human nature remains what it is, we’ll continue to be preached to by idiots, defended by good-for-nothings and ruled over by tyrants. All you can do is approach this world with honesty, integrity and humor. It is, after all, the only one we have, and the only one we’ll ever have.

For Brits like me, irony is so integral to our national culture that it’s probably impossible to fully disentangle its purpose and effects. Certainly, it is often used as a default mechanism for avoiding talking openly about feelings and emotions. Irritatingly, my more arrogant country folk often repeat the mantra that Americans don’t understand irony. This is, of course, completely untrue. Speaking generally of course, they simply have the ability to communicate in other ways, whereas we tend to rely so heavily on irony – often to avoid addressing issues directly.

Sorry to end this post in so wishy-washy a manner, but I’m not sure what the purpose of the irony in Pride and Prejudice really is. It goes without saying that, independently of moral or political purpose, it makes for wonderful comedy. However, it’s hard to imagine that somebody with radical political tendencies would work so hard to drench them in such ambiguity. To leave generations of critics to bicker over one’s views would be a strange ambition indeed.

One can never be sure with irony, which is why it’s so rich and interesting a topic. Is there anything about Jane Austen’s life, outside of her writing, that suggests an answer? We’d love to hear from any of the many Austen-experts out there…

Darcy