I’ve been flicking through More Talk of Jane Austen by Sheila Kaye-Smith and G.B. Stern this morning, a companion to the equally perfect Speaking of Jane Austen. I marked some favourite passages when I first read it a few years back and it was those I was going through this morning, enjoying anew the joy Kaye-Smith and Stern took in talking about their favourite author and her works.
One of my favourite passages was Stern’s musings on Austen’s most able parental unit: the Morlands:
…I am certain no one can dispute that as parents, Mr and Mrs Morland are without serious rivals; they are, in fact, the only important mother and father in Jane Austen where both emerge coupled in unselfishness and good sense; we find them disposed to indulge their large family where indulgence can do no harm, yet to check any tendency towards bad manners, sulking or affectation. We are not allowed to see much of the Rev. Richard Morland, though we are assured he was “a very respectable man: and not in the least addicted to locking up his daughters; our good opinion of him is chiefly based on the fact that when his wife acts sensibly (the word must recur often in any description of Mrs Morland), she is apparently not in any fear of opposition from her husband. Most of us, as children, were told somewhat sententiously that people are likely to judge our parents according to the way we behave…to which we gave our shoulders an impatient shrug and muttered inaudibly: “Don’t believe it.” The older I grow, the more the truth of this comes home to me: Catherine Morland, the heroine of Northanger Abbey, displays so much honesty and spontaneous politeness in her conduct, as well as a genuinely modest measurement of her own claims to notice, no tiresome shrinking nor constant need of reassurance (can I again be thinking of Fanny Price?), that she reflects the greatest possible credit on her mother’s upbringing and her father’s judgement in selection of a wife…
Later in the essay (entitled “Always be Contented, but especially at Home”), she does mark them down a little for not investigating Isabella Thorpe as soon as their son becomes engaged to her but it’s a small matter in the scheme of things. For my part, I know they are the Austen parents I would pick if I had a choice!
The Captive Reader 
I immediately went to see if the college library had either of these, and found “Talking,” But did you know she also wrote a book called “Kitchen Fugue” ? 🙂 Yes, reader, I’m borrowing that one too, whatver it is. 🙂
I’ve never heard of Kitchen Fugue but agree it sounds promising! I’ll look forward to your verdict.
Interesting quote and thoughts about the Morlands as parents.
Glad you enjoyed it!
Very interesting discussion! I definitely agree with these comments, because when you stop and think about it Austen’s novels really are full of unsatisfactory parents who not only make bad decisions with respect to their children, but don’t have a particularly solid relationship themselves (I’m thinking of the Bennets in particular). They would definitely be my first choice for parents too!
Yes, Austen’s heroines in general are not blessed with ideal parents. I think Mansfield Park offers the worst parents, personally, but the Bennets aren’t ideal. However, Mrs Bennet at least is trying to do her (embarrassing) best for her daughters (Mr Bennet remains useless).
Yes, they are really quite modern parents! Most of Jane Austen’s principal characters seem to have had to bring themselves up and are lucky if their parents are not an actual burden like Mr Woodhouse. I suppose Mr Bennet would have been quite interested in developing his daughters’ intellect if they showed signs of having any, but we can assume he was disappointed at not having a son.
I wonder if it was liking of Mrs Morland that made Angela Thirkell choose the name for her alter ego in her Barsetshire novels, but perhaps more likely it was the painter George Morland, who enjoyed portraying rustic scenes.
I think Mr Woodhouse is actually one of the better Austen parents – he can hardly help being old and liking to indulge in his minor ailments. At least he offers Emma affection, purpose, and plentiful resources. Mr Bennet, on the other hand, seems content to ignore his entire family and entertain himself with jokes at their expense, whether they warrant them or not.