Favorite Characters: Henry Tilney (Northanger Abbey)

Truth be told, one of the big hints that Northanger Abbey was Jane Austen’s first novel is the simple fact that Mr. Tilney might be a little too great.  He doesn’t have the same complexity as, say, a Mr. Darcy or Capt. Wentworth, isn’t as flawed around the edges.  As Austen developed further as a writer, she made her heroines and heroes messier and more human.  Mr. Tilney isn’t perfect, but I get the sense that he’s probably as close as one can get to young Austen’s idea of perfect.  That doesn’t leave a whole lot to delve into, but it does make for one supremely enjoyable, hugely likeable character.

In terms of Northanger Abbey and Catherine, our heroine, Mr. Tilney is likely the potential love interest best suited to both her desires and her needs.  Like her, he appreciates a good yarn, but he introduces her to more “refined” interests as well, such as landscapes and drawing.  He has enough mystery about him to appeal to her dramatic side, what with the old Gothic manor house he lives in and the furtive talk surrounding his mother’s death, and he’s all too happy to play to her fancies.  At the same time, though, he’s kind, understanding, and – above all – safe.  Open, artless Catherine could stand to get herself into a lot of trouble in Bath because she believes the best of everyone, even when they don’t deserve it.  But while the Thorpes know just how to work her, Mr. Tilney never veers further from earnestness than taking part in some playful teasing.

Beyond that, the man himself is simply a delight.  He nods at conventions but only to laugh at how stiff and unnatural they are, he’s sophisticated but not snobbish, and his talent for irony is right up there with Elizabeth Bennet’s.  He has a quick tongue and a nimble wit, both of which he employs almost constantly.  The impression he gives is immediately one of a man who is intelligent, good-natured, and entertaining.  I can just picture many a young, clever Regency-era woman eating up a guy like that.

However, it’s important to note that he isn’t actually the Regency-era ideal.  Although he’s from a wealthy family, he’s a second son and makes his living as a clergyman (this latter fact does further recommend him to both Catherine and Austen, though – both women had clergymen in their families that they loved dearly.)  It’s also specifically stated in the book that he’s “not quite handsome,” although “very near it.”  I like that, that he’s not some dreamboat, and that it’s his charisma, manner, and humor that draws Catherine in more so than his looks (the casting of J.J. Feild, pictured above, in the 2007 Masterpiece version goes in a different direction.)

A last, crucial piece of the puzzle is this:  Mr. Tilney is a great brother to his sister Eleanor.  This is important to Catherine, who’s incredibly close to her own brother, and good brothers are highly valued in Austen’s work in general – when Mr. Crawford is trying to woo Fanny in Mansfield Park, he quickly sees that the surest way to her heart is through kindness to her brother William, and who doesn’t love Mr. Darcy’s regard for Georgiana?  As Catherine gets to know both Mr. Tilney and Eleanor, she’s continually charmed by them as a set and admires Mr. Tilney all the more for his affection toward his sister.

Yep.  He’s far from the best, more interesting character Austen ever wrote, but I dare anyone not to like him.

Relationship Spotlight: Henry Tilney & Catherine Morland (Northanger Abbey)

 

Lizzie/Darcy is of course the heavy-hitter, and I’ll admit particular fondness for popular pairings Anne/Wentworth and Emma/Knightley.  However, when it comes right down to it, gun to my head, if I had to pick a favorite Jane Austen couple, it’d be this fun duo without a doubt.

 

Off the bat, I’ll confess that these two don’t provide as much dramatic fodder as your Lizzies & Darcys and the other couples listed above.  They don’t get intp brutal arguments simmering with buried passion and there are no knockout declarations like Capt. Wentworth’s gorgeous letter to Anne.  Similarly, there’s no fabulous wealth for anyone to come into.  Catherine is one of ten children of a country vicar, and though Henry comes from a very well-to-do family, he’s a second son and will need to make his own way in the world.  And to top it off, they’re not even that luscious!  Austen describes Catherine as “almost pretty” and Henry as “very near to” handsome.

 

So why do I like them so much?  For this very simple reason:  they go together so well.  From the moment Catherine meets Henry, even though he’s far more used to Bath society than she is, he makes it clear that they don’t have to worry about it.  Rather than insisting upon the expected social conventions, he makes light of them, conducting small talk in an arch and ridiculous manner before assuring Catherine that it’s over and they “may be rational again.”  His irony nicely complements her earnestness, and she’s sweet enough to round out his more satiric moments.

 

Throughout the book, we see the shared interests between the two.  At first, Catherine is a little sheepish about her love of novels – in Austen’s day, “novels” were distinct from “literature,” considered cheap thrills mostly intended for silly girls – but soon discovers that Henry likes a good, sensational yarn just as much as she does, and they enjoy discussing stories they’ve both read.  Henry and his sister Eleanor, avid drawers, help Catherine develop her artistic eye, and when Catherine visits the Tilney’s at Northanger Abbey, their time is spent going on walks and rides and playing games together.  With so many fictional couples, I can be at a loss as to what they actually talk about or do for fun (ahem! Leonard and Penny ahem!,) but with Catherine and Henry, I don’t have to wonder.

 

Speaking of Eleanor, I also like that it’s not this all-consuming connection that blots out everything else.  Though it’s clear from the start that Catherine has a pretty massive crush on Henry, she gets to be very good friends with Eleanor as well.  When the three of them hang out together, Eleanor isn’t painted as the second fiddle, and when it’s just the two girls, there’s no sense that Catherine is dissatisfied and would rather be with Henry.  Plus, Henry’s affectionate relationship with his sister mirror’s Catherine’s own with her brother James. 

 

In short, they seem like a couple that would truly “work.”  You can talk all day about chemistry and spark and excitement, and I’m not saying those things don’t merit consideration, but in the end, a couple needs to get along.  They need to make each other happy, they need to enjoy one another’s company, and they need things they like doing together.  If not, what’s the point?