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.

Northanger Abbey (2007)

Northanger Abbey is Jane Austen’s least-adapted novel, which is a shame, because it’s so much fun.  Fortunately, though, it at least has this delightful Masterpiece TV movie.  Back in 2007, I saw this on TV on a whim (literally, I was channel-surfing and stumbled onto Liam Cunningham’s name during the opening credits – how serendipitous!)  I went into it knowing next to nothing about it and not having read a single Austen book, and I came out a dyed-in-the-wool fan determined to remedy my ignorance.

Novel-loving Catherine Morland hopes she’s in for a real-life adventure when her neighbors invite her to accompany them on a trip to Bath.  Her imaginative fantasies of what it will be like, based on the “horrid” Gothic romances she reads, don’t quite match up to the real thing, but she stumbles into some excitement all the same.  Her story sets her in the path of the charming and affable Henry Tilney, some scheming opportunists, whiffs of rumors and scandal, and a beautiful old manor that’s begging to share its secrets with her.

This is probably the only one of Austen’s novels that could be satisfactorily adapted into a less-than-90-minute film (Persuasion and Mansfield Park both tried the same year, but neither could pull it off,) and the resulting movie carries itself very well and Austeny.  It’s light and enjoyable, has a hoot playing with the juxtaposition of Catherine’s wild imaginings and the subtler intrigues of her real life, and is overall a fine way to pass a little time.  The story is only mildy streamlined, moving along at a good clip without feeling like you’re just scrolling through the highlights of the plot, and the film handles both ironic and earnest tones with equal skill.

Like I said, Liam Cunningham is the name that brought me to the film; though he’s probably most familiar now for playing Ser Davos on Game of Thrones, I’ll always know him best as Capt. Crewe from A Little Princess.  He does well as the possibly-menacing Gen. Tilney, as do William Beck and Carey Mulligan as John and Isabella Thorpe (I wonder if Mulligan will ever star in an Austen adaptation – she plays a supporting role in the Keira Knightley Pride and Prejudice, too.)  I’m not familiar with Catherine Walker, but she’s perfect as Henry’s sister Eleanor, and Sylvestra le Touzel, former Fanny Price, plays Mrs. Allen – I always love seeing Austen heroines pop up again in later adaptations.

But, as you’d expect, the main attractions are our lead actors.  A pre-Oscar-nod Felicity Jones from The Theory of Everything is cute as a button as Catherine.  I love the contrast between her crazy imagination and her earnest naiveté; Catherine is on a whirlwind, no doubt, and Jones makes us feel every bit of it with her sweet performance.  Equally great is J.J. Feild as Henry, who captures Henry’s playful wit to a tee.  There are moments when the story is a bit too “Jane Austen’s first novel,” but these two gladly make you forget that fact.  Their engaging chemistry easily carries the day – I love the banter the first time they dance together, and it’s too fun to watch Catherine react to Henry so seriously and then gradually realize he’s teasing her.  Other Austen pairings are sweeter or more romantic, but I think this one is the most entertaining.

Warnings

A few Regency-era sexual references.

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?