apolla | A Darcy Post (Reply)

Why Fitzwilliam Darcy Is The Perfectest Hero That Ever Lived

This has probably been covered before, in fora and book clubs around the world. Between giggling friends, between whatever. It’s never been done by me before, and I like to think I can at least come up with something new to say, no matter how ludicrous. Or at least a new way of saying something old.

Yes, Darcy is about the most perfect hero that ever got put onto paper. Why so? What is it about such a painfully shy, aloof, socially backward old grump?

- He’s rich. Really really rich.

- He lives in That House.

- He’s handsome.

The description of him, even post-BBC, post-movie is just vague enough that people can conjure their own image of Darcy. So, it might be based on a bloke called Colin, or it might be based on Matthew MacSpooks, but it becomes something particular and singularly one’s own image of what the perfect romantic hero looks like. Unless you like blonds, obviously.

So far, so ridiculously typical. Rich and handsome. Snore. What about this:

- Darcy has a bit of the old ‘bad boy’ routine going on.

Yes, it’s well documented that girls like dangerous, brooding, dark-auraed men. But since when was this most honourable of gentlemen a bad boy? Glad you asked. Since he slagged off Lizzy and offended an entire town in one night. However, the real beauty of those bloody bad boys is this: they’re not bad, they’re just drawn that way.

Nobody actually wants a bastard. What they actually want is someone who has all the chocolatey goodness of a bad guy with all the nutritional benefits of a Jolly Nice Bloke. Like frozen yoghurt that doesn’t taste shit, for example. The Charm Of Darce comes in feeling thrilled at the dark-and-brooding before the joyful discovery that he’s actually so lovely and darlign that he’s up for sainthood. Heathcliff was actually an insane git, Dorian Gray was a depraved heroin addict murderer, Rick Blaine was a bitter, twisted fellow, Rhett Butler was a whoring gambler and so on and so on. Darcy: The cake you get to have and eat too.

The most important thing isn’t even that, though. It’s this: He loves Lizzy first. While she’s practically dunking Darcy Voodoo Dolls in boiling oil, poor little Darcy is pining away over her, fighting his own pride and judgement, the probable censure of his family, mooning over her fine eyes and in all other ways acting like a bit of a lovesick sap. He comes down on the side of lub, twu lub instead of money, familial pride and the rest, which of course also makes him romantic, rebellious and anti-capitalist. Why, he’s practically Comrade Darcy! (Except for all that money, obviously). The thing really is that he loves her first. Who wouldn’t want to discover that their True Love has been pining over them? Nice ego boost, methinks. We’d all like to think we’ve got a Rich, Handsome, Romantic, Rebellious, Pining, Brooding Good Guy lusting after us, willing to give us lots of money and a big house and a happy ever after.

The fact that he cocks it all up so spectacularly is just proof that he’s not perfect (because nobody is perfect, of course), so one can get on with him being practically perfect in every other way.

And if that wasn’t enough, he’s also forgiving of Lizzy. She really does lay into him and he loves her anyway, maybe more. There’s not a petulant female in the world that doesn’t wish for someone like that.

So, he’s Rich, Handsome, Romantic, Rebellious, Brooding, Pining, Forgiving Good Guy... and depending on your preferred version, he likes mist or lakes.

Hell, if he could sing or play the guitar too, even I’d want to marry that.

The world would be a better, happier place if we could just bottle the Essence of Darcy, force it down the necks of all newborn baby boys, methinks.