“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

-Mr. Darcy, prompting eyerolls for eternity

What I’m drinking: Miller Lite, which would be scorned by certain pompous men.

So, in my reading slump, I’ve been trying to get back to basics and revisit some classics. This does not mean that I reread any Austen; I watched the movie. I know, I know. But the Keira Knightley version does a generally good job with the adaptation. Anyway, I have opinions. And I’m going to share them now: Mr. Darcy is AWFUL WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE LIKE HIM?

Okay, I get it. He’s proud and she’s prejudiced. Their societal strictures and personal natures try but ultimately fail to keep them apart. Why do we like Mr. Darcy so much, though? Does he actually accomplish evolution from an arrogant prick to a quirky and troubled and dashing and sexy hero?

I have a theory this attraction we as readers/watchers have is in large part due to Colin Firth. People, Colin Firth will always be flawless; Mr. Darcy will always be the worst! Let’s separate them.

I want to posit that Darcy is not a true Byronic hero, those sexy and brooding bad boys of literature and screen that old Byron himself cooked up. That sexy, sexy rascal. (Remind me to post about my thing for Byron someday). No. Fitzwilliam Darcy lacks the reason to brood. He has no excuse for his rude condescension, has no great trauma he has to process or bottle up that might make us readers empathize with him at all.

I also am aware that lots of people find his awful demeanor ultimately charming, as he “redeems” himself by professing his love to our heroine. These are the people who argue that Darcy is quirky, self-conscious, relatable, and not gag-inducing (???). To those people, I say nay nay. Perhaps it is just a matter of taste, but I tend to be attracted to people who actually like me and don’t hide behind being an actual ass. But that’s just me.

There are so many dreamy and crush-worthy characters out there. I’m just saying let’s go appreciate them instead of this guy.

Don’t kill me,

Jen. xoxo