I've read more of The Jane Austen Guide to Happily Ever After and found some beautiful things to share. I've learned that Jane Austen heroines exercise a virtue that we have completely forgotten about today--that we no longer have a word for. This virtue is "candour," and it means something entirely different today than it did to Jane Austen. Today, being candid means being forthright, truthful, and honest. But in Austen's day, and for Austen's heroines,"candid" described the listener, not the teller. To be candid meant "judging other people and their stories with sympathy, openness and generosity." It was the opposite of "small-minded suspicion."
Wow. I wish the meaning had never changed. It's a lovely thing to be and Kantor explains why it was such an important virtue for Austen's heroines. Because of their candour, their respect for men, their ability and desire not to judge critically but with sympathy, Austen heroines inspire the same kind of respect from men in return. And I think that "inspire" is the perfect word here--we, as women, can inspire men to respect us by treating them sympathetically, giving them the benefit of the doubt (as opposed to nagging them, or demanding what we want from them, or manipulating them).
So where does this candour come from? Jane Austen describes it as "self-knowledge." The respect these women show their men comes from the understanding that they themselves have flaws, too. (For an example of a character with candour read Persuasion and pay close attention to Anne Elliot). Austen's heroines regularly engage in serious reflection on their own characters, their own actions, their own words.
Kantor warns us that the opposite of behaving with candour toward men is involving ourselves in the kind of behind-their-backs griping among girlfriends that has become all too common in today's world. Cynicism and anti-men attitudes can blind us from really seeing a man for who he is, as a fellow human being with flaws and imperfections. Austen heroines certainly do not operate under illusion--they are realistic and grounded and very good at interpreting a man's character--but they are never cynical either.
By refraining from cynicism and engaging in candour, Austen's women are able to see men clearly and inspire the good ones to respect and, eventually, love them.
Kantor writes this advice at the end of the chapter:
If we really want to bring back Jane Austen, we'll disband the sisterhood of snark and give other women mutual support in seeing men clearly, judging them wisely, and loving them honestly. We'll expect more from men. And our respect for them will nourish their respect for us, putting us on the road to Jane Austen heroine-level dignity.
