The Real Lydia Bennet

Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice is well-known for its revolutionary main character, Elizabeth Bennet, who is seen as an early example of a feminist character in literature. Austen presents Elizabeth as a woman attempting to overcome the sexism inherent in her society. Just as important, however, is her sister Lydia, a woman who is a victim of the patriarchy and is never able to rise above it. Austen portrays Lydia Bennet, a character who does not exhibit the traits most commonly associated with feminist characters, as a feminist antihero whose experiences exemplify Austen’s own feminist ideals.

Lydia’s static and underdeveloped characterization, demonstrates the tendency to stereotype women as well as the consequences of doing so. From the moment Lydia is introduced, she is stereotyped as an empty-headed, flirtatious teenager. Elizabeth remarks of Lydia’s temperament, “the wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark Lydia’s character…Her character will be fixed; and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt that ever made herself and her family ridiculous” (Austen 223). Lydia is described numerous times as flirtatious, energetic, careless, and ridiculous; Austen never develops Lydia’s character further, representing the attitude both Lizzy and society take towards Lydia; they know only a small portion of her character and are satisfied that there is nothing else to know. Lydia is never expected to become anything more than the stereotype that has been assigned to her, inviting ridicule and causing her character to stagnate — because nothing else is expected of her, Lydia will likely retain these childish traits into adulthood. This stereotypical view of Lydia influences how her character and her actions are interpreted for the rest of the novel. Lydia shares many traits with her sisters but is seen as more senseless, in keeping with her role as the irresponsible baby of the family, demonstrated by Lizzy’s comment to Jane: “You are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see the fault in any body. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes” (Austen 16). Although Lizzy speaks here about Jane, she could just as easily be referring to Lydia. Both Lydia and Jane are incredibly naive, having been kept separate from the true nature of the world, but because Lydia is stereotyped as silly and Jane as sensible, we view this as a flaw in Lydia’s character but as a virtue in Jane’s.

The flaws in Lydia’s character are a product not only of the way people see her but of her environment as well. She was raised in society which values marriage but not intelligence, so it is less than surprising that Lydia is more interested in boys than books. The effects of this society are seen most clearly in a description of Mrs. Bennet’s pastimes: “The business of [Mrs. Bennet’s] life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news” (Austen 7). Mrs. Bennet and her lifestyle serve as a parallel to her daughter; like her mother, Lydia has never been given anything of import to think of. The patriarchy forbids her from participating in politics, holding a job, or managing money, so all that is left to her is attending balls, gossiping and visiting friends, and chasing after potential husbands. She is shallow because society has never given her an opportunity not to be. Like many women of the time period, Lydia is trained from childhood to be a wife rather than an intelligent person. The effects of this society are only further confounded by her lack of parental guidance; her parents view her not as a daughter who must be nurtured but as a wife-to-be in search of a husband. Lydia’s father disregards her, her mother is no more grown up than Lydia herself, and their parenting style is ill-advised, allowing all of their daughters to become eligible for marriage at a very young age and declining to provide them with a governess. Lady Catherine voices her surprise at this situation, exclaiming, “Five daughters brought up in a home without a governess! — I never heard of such a thing…Who taught you? Who attended to you? Without a governess, you must have been neglected” (Austen 161). Without a governess, the Bennet girls were certainly neglected, as they lacked instruction in academics as well as social propreity. Mrs. Bennet, a perpetrator of frequent social faux pas, is certainly not up to the task of teaching her daughters the complicated ins and outs of nineteenth century society, leaving them vulnerable to men like Wickham. The nonexistence of a formal education for the girls left them more likely to be immature and inaugurated in the ways of the world; this is likely the source of Lydia’s self-involvedness. The absence of education also leaves women more dependent on men, as seen throughout history. By failing to offset the negative influences of a misogynistic society, Mrs. Bennet sets up her daughters, particularly Lydia, for hardships and scorn.

The society Lydia lives in places importance on trivialities, and her parents fail to give her the tools to overcome this, but it is Lydia herself who is punished for their shortcomings. After hearing the news of Lydia’s elopement, Mr. Collins writes to advise Mr. Bennet to “Throw off your unworthy affection for ever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense” (Austen 282). It is common in society, even today, to view the wrongs of women as more serious than those of men, and to blame women even when they are the victim. The reaction of Lydia’s family and peers to her eloping is a clear example of this, as Lydia is the one who is seen as committing a “heinous offense,” even though Wickham is equally if not more culpable than she is. Furthermore, Lydia is never forgiven for eloping, while Wickham is quickly and almost unanimously forgiven for misleading Lydia, and is practically seen as a hero by Mrs. Bennet for marrying Lydia. The Bennets reluctantly welcome Wickham and Lydia into their home after the wedding, where they are quick to judge Lydia but soon forget their dislike of Wickham. The couple’s stay at Longbourn is cut short to prevent Lydia from having a negative influence on her sisters, and under the guise of a job offer for Wickham, Mr. Bennet banishes Lydia to the North; “The day of [Wickham’s] and Lydia’s departure soon came, and Mrs. Bennet was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to continue at least a twelvemonth” (Austen 313). After sending Lydia far from home to another part of the country, Mr. Bennet does everything in his power to keep her separated from the rest of her family, first by vetoing a family trip to Lydia’s new home, and then by denying Kitty the opportunity to visit her sister. Mr. Bennet’s harsher treatment of Kitty following Lydia’s marriage reveals that Lydia’s legacy at Longbourn is one of disappointment and disapproval, a stark contrast to Wickham’s position as the favorite son-in-law.

Although Lydia is not a particularly good role model, she is a fairly empowered woman whose trials expose the absurdity of the era’s sexist practices. Lydia refuses to restrain herself to fit into the image of a docile, modest lady; rather, she is described as having “high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence” (Austen 45). Lydia is described as lively, excitable, and “high-spirited,” the complete opposite of the perfect nineteenth-century lady, who was expected to be docile and willing to allow men near complete control over her life. Lydia’s idea of her own “natural self-consequence” flies in the face of the humility expected of her. Lydia also takes her life and her decisions into her own hands without waiting for her male guardian’s consent by eloping. In the note she leaves for Mrs. Forster, she writes, “There is but one man in the world I love…I should never be happy without him…You need not send them word at Longbourn of my going…for it will make the surprise the greater, when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia Wickham” (Austen 176). Lydia takes no chance that her father will prevent her from marrying the “one man in the world” that she loves, and so runs off with Wickham without allowing anyone the chance to stop her. She tells Mrs. Forster that she wishes to “surprise” her family with the news of her marriage for a laugh because she knows that her family will take this explanation at face value, owing to their superficial view of her. However, it is reasonable to conclude that Lydia wishes her family to remain ignorant because if they do not know of her actions, they are powerless to stop her. Lydia intends to run off to Gretna Green, where she does not need her parents’ consent to get married; Lydia is also aware that once she has eloped, her family will insist that she marries Wickham to save face. Thus Lydia ensures that she is the one to hold power over her marriage, and not her father. The elopement is a foolish decision influenced heavily by Wickham’s deceit and Lydia’s own naivete, but it is also an example of a young woman taking power over her own life in a time when women were essentially powerless. While Lydia makes this choice freely, she is taken advantage of by Wickham, an older and more cunning man. To Lydia’s peers, this would be seen as the natural consequence of a “feeble-minded” woman making choices of her own. Readers, too, are quick to blame Lydia’s “silliness” for this transgression, before remembering that rational, intelligent Elizabeth was nearly taken in by Wickham’s lies as well — a reminder that even the smartest of women can be taken advantage of. Austen proposes that the problem is not with women like Lydia, but with a society that lauds and easily forgives men like Wickham while damning women who dare to make their own decisions.

Lydia’s elopement and the subsequent fallout expose the absurdity of the courtship rituals of the time, which hold both women and happiness in places of little importance. Though universally agreed that Lydia’s marriage to Wickham is unlikely to lead to happiness in the future, it is the best outcome for her. In a letter to Lizzy, Jane states, “Imprudent as a match between Mr. Wickham and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured that it has taken place” (Austen 261). In the present day and age, Lydia’s parents would likely separate her from Wickham and forbid her from seeing him again to save her from the ramifications of such an “imprudent” match. In the nineteenth century, however, that would be unthinkable, as it would cast doubt upon Lydia’s virtue and ruin her prospects for any sort of match in future. Thus the best outcome for Lydia is to marry a man who does not love her and whom she cannot divorce, which will essentially doom her to a life of unhappiness. The ease with which Lydia’s family agrees to this course of action and their lack of concern for Lydia’s future call into question the practice of valuing of money and reputation (particularly that of an unmarried woman) over actual happiness. Lydia’s sister, Mary, expands upon this line of thinking by saying, “Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful lesson: that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable; that one false step involves her in endless ruin; that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful; and that she cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex” (Austen 275). Mary’s speech serves a dual purpose; on one hand, it is a prudent warning to young women first entering the marriage market, while on the other it is a subtle attack on sexist practices of the period. Austen exposes plainly the severity of consequences for young women, for whom “one false step” results in “endless ruin,” compared to the ease with which young men can overcome their missteps, asking readers to question the reasons for this disparity.

Like many women, Lydia Bennet is never given a chance to become more than a stereotype or to truly escape the influence of a patriarchal society. She does not typify feminist ideals by managing to break free of those who would oppress her, but rather by serving as a very real reminder of the destructive effects of sexism.