A not-so-modern fairy tale

THIS WEEK’S WINNER

MANILA, Philippines -  Sofia Benares, 16, is an incoming junior at International School Manila. She is a staff writer to two magazines and editor to a third, as well as contributor to the school-wide literary journal.

In many ways, my childhood was the same childhood that all little girls especially the ones that inhabit the worlds of heart-warming family movies — share.

When I was seven, I had tea parties with my friends; my biggest wish was to own that delectably unattainable Barbie dollhouse that sparkled behind the shop windows I had just grown tall enough to peer through; I built the castles of my dreams out of Disney umbrellas and pillows; I swathed myself in petticoats of linens and sheets; my favorite color was pink. And like all little girls, I loved fairy tales. I loved the worlds that danced upon the page alongside their characters and the illustrations that made them come alive in my mind’s eye. I loved the blackness of the witches’ hearts and the cunning of the elves, loved the grace of the princesses and the gallantry and chivalry of the knights. I used to devour the stories upon the pages almost as quickly as the knight in shining armor rescued the princess from the burning castle or ferocious dragon. At seven years old if you asked me what I wanted to be I would have one simple answer: “A princess.” What seven-year-old girl wouldn’t?

When I was nine I graduated from fairy tales to Mary-Kate and Ashley chapter books. When I was 11 I graduated from Mary-Kate and Ashley chapter books to Nancy Drew novels. When I was 12 I put down the Nancy Drew novels and graduated into a full-fledged, read-with-a-flashlight-after-dark bookworm that experimented with almost all genres of fiction and non-fiction. I was 14 when I discovered Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and now, at 16, despite having read numerous novels after it, I can say with confidence that I have never really graduated from the frivolity, the luxury, and the extravagance of the world of this classic tale.

Pride and Prejudice, set during the turning point between the late 18th century and early 19th century in the England of Jane Austen’s own experience, is led by the feisty and vivaciously quick-witted protagonist Elizabeth Bennet. The Bennet family had been blessed — though at the time it was most definitely perceived as more of a curse than a blessing — with five daughters: Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia.

In the unquestionably male-dominated society of the Bennets’ world, a household with five daughters was automatically endowed with two all-important responsibilities: first, to find suitable husbands for each of the five daughters, an insurmountable task in itself, and second, to provide enough dowry for each of these unions.

These responsibilities fall unto Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Bennet respectively. But while Mrs. Bennet becomes consumed in her desire to see her daughters married, Mr. Bennet is driven to exasperation by his tiresome wife — and much to Mrs. Bennet’s dismay, the modern-minded Elizabeth shares her father’s perspective. When the town receives word that Charles Bingley, a wealthy and, more importantly, unmarried young gentleman has rented a manor, excitement courses through every household and especially that of the Bennets.

After the first ball held at Bingley’s new manor, it is found out that he has not come alone; with him is his friend, the wealthy and equally single Mr. Darcy, a fact that excites Mrs. Bennet to no end. But while Elizabeth’s elder sister Jane is immediately taken to Bingley, Elizabeth’s pride cannot overlook the prejudices that Darcy exhibits upon their introduction and she automatically deems him pompous and arrogant.

What makes the story so captivating is not only the window to this magnificent world of luxury and extravagance that it provides but the characters that struggle, survive, and prosper within it. Mrs. Bennet as a ridiculous, tiresome character contrasts with her husband as an intelligent patriarch who, although well-intentioned, prefers reclusion from the equally ridiculous and tiresome society around him — a society embodied by his youngest daughters Lydia and Catherine, whose girlish fascination with balls and soldiers gets them deep into trouble.

Elizabeth’s strong character, intelligence and quick-witted humor make her a character that any reader will become envious of. Darcy’s development from pompous and arrogant to charming and admirable drives the development of Elizabeth’s affections for him, and allows them to get over their initial pride and prejudice to live happily ever after.

As the English society of the Bennets unfolded in my hands, my fairy tale did so as well. Elizabeth Bennet became the princess, Darcy the knight in shining armour — but obviously as my fairy tale developed, so did its’ characters. No longer were the characters two-dimensional. Now, they possessed the hidden impulses, ambitions, secrets, and potential for development that define any real person. The characters in my fairy tale became real characters, characters that came to life even off of the page and became people that I could relate to and understand. Such is the skill of Jane Austen.

Indeed, hidden beneath the frivolity of the romance novel is intelligence as well as evidence of an understanding not just of society as a whole but of the relationships and people that make it up. Pride and Prejudice is not a novel about turn-of-the-century England, of societal etiquette, or even of a family’s quest for social standing through marriage. Pride and Prejudice is a novel about people, and the relationships that make them such, and it is because of this that Pride and Prejudice, published in 1813, has stood through almost two centuries to keep generations of devoted readers enthralled by every page. Once you open the book, you will be captured by it — hook, line, and sinker.

I thought I had graduated from fairy tales, from balls and gowns and knights in shining armour. But as I read Pride and Prejudice I realized that I had not, that I never had — and more importantly, that I had never needed to. I merely found different tangents with which to satisfy my addiction for the all-evasive but always assured “happily ever after.”

In fact, if asked what I wanted to become in the future by the right person in the right way, and unprovoked to give answers along the lines of “I want to become a doctor/journalist/advertising consultant/fashion marketer/ other arbitrary profession,” I may just spit out the same answer I did nine years ago: “I want to be a princess.” And truly, what 16-year-old girl doesn’t?