Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors (16 page)

She looked down as she said this, amiably bashful, with only one side-glance at her companion to observe its effect on her.

Good heavens!” cried Elinor, “what do you mean? Are you acquainted with Mr. Robert Ferrars? Can you be?” And she did not feel much delighted with the idea of such a sister-in-law.

“No,” replied Lucy, “not with Mr. Robert Ferrars—I never saw him in my life; but,” fixing her eyes upon Elinor, “with his elder brother.”

What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment, that would have been as painful as it was strong had not an immediate disbelief of the assertion attended it. She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement, unable to divine the reason or object of such a declaration; and though her complexion varied, she stood firm in incredulity, and felt in no danger of an hysterical fit or a swoon.

“You may well be surprised,” continued Lucy; “for, to be sure, you could have had no idea of it before; for I dare say he never dropped the smallest hint of it to you or any of your family; because it was always meant to be a great secret, and I am sure has been faithfully kept so by me to this hour. Not a soul of all my relations know of it but Anne, and I never should have mentioned it to you, if I had not felt the greatest dependence in the world upon your secrecy; and I really thought my behaviour in asking so many questions about Mrs. Ferrars must seem so odd that it ought to be explained. And I do not think Mr. Ferrars can be displeased when he knows I have trusted you, because I know he has the highest opinion in the world of all your family, and looks upon yourself and the other Miss Dashwoods quite as his own sisters.” She paused.

Elinor for a few moments remained silent. Her astonishment at what she heard was at first too great for words; but at length forcing herself to speak, and to speak cautiously, she said with a calmness of manner which tolerably well concealed her surprise and solicitude—”May I ask if your engagement is of long standing?”

“We have been engaged these four years.”

“Four years?”

“Yes.”

Elinor, though greatly shocked, still felt unable to believe it. “I did not know,” said she, “that you were even acquainted till the other day.”

“Our acquaintance, however, is of many years’ date. He was under my uncle’s care, you know, a considerable while.”

“Your uncle!”

“Yes; Mr. Pratt. Did you never hear him talk of Mr. Pratt?”

“I think I have,” replied Elinor, with an exertion of spirits which increased with her increase of emotion.

“He was four years with my uncle, who lives at Longstaple, near Plymouth. It was there our acquaintance begun, for my sister and me was often staying with my uncle, and it was there our engagement was formed though not till a year after he had quitted as a pupil; but he was almost always with us afterwards. I was very unwilling to enter into it, as you may imagine, without the knowledge and approbation of his mother; but I was too young and loved him too well to be so prudent as I ought to have been. Though you do not know him as well as me, Miss Dashwood, you must have seen enough of him to be sensible he is very capable of making a woman sincerely attached to him.”

“Certainly,” answered Elinor, without knowing what she said; but after a moment’s reflection, she added with revived security of Edward’s honour and love, and her companion’s falsehood—”Engaged to Mr. Edward Ferrars! I confess myself so totally surprised at what you tell me, that really—I beg your pardon; but surely there must be some mistake of person or name. We cannot mean the same Mr. Ferrars.”

“We can mean no other,” cried Lucy, smiling. “Mr. Edward Ferrars, the eldest son of Mrs. Ferrars of Park Street, and brother of your sister-in-law, Mrs. John Dashwood, is the person I mean; you must allow that I am not likely to be deceived as to the name of the man on whom all my happiness depends.”

“It is strange,” replied Elinor, in a most painful perplexity, “that I should never have heard him even mention your name.”

“No; considering our situation, it was not strange. Our first care has been to keep the matter secret. You knew nothing of me or my family, and therefore there could be no occasion for ever mentioning my name to you; and as he was always particularly afraid of his sister’s suspecting anything, that was reason enough for his not mentioning it.”

She was silent. Elinor’s security sunk; but her self-command did not sink with it.

“Four years you have been engaged,” said she with a firm voice.

“Yes; and heaven knows how much longer we may have to wait. Poor Edward! It puts him quite out of heart.” Then taking a small miniature from her pocket she added, “To prevent the possibility of mistake, be so good as to look at this face. It does not do him justice, to be sure, but yet I think you cannot be deceived as to the person it was drew for. I have had it above these three years.”

She put it into her hands as she spoke, and when Elinor saw the painting whatever other doubts her fear of a too hasty decision or her wish of detecting falsehood might suffer to linger in her mind, she could have none of its being Edward’s face. She returned it almost instantly, acknowledging the likeness.

Exploration Points

1.
What is the subtext of the conversation between these two women? How does the subtexted meaning fit with their Action Objectives?

Lucy’s initial Action Objective for the scene: “To convince Elinor to stay away from Edward.” Elinor’s initial objective: “To discover how Lucy is acquainted with Edward.”

Lucy first speaks of Mrs. Ferrars in order to bring up the topic of Edward. When Elinor says she knows nothing of Mrs. Ferrars, which could close the subject, Lucy’s Action Objective becomes: “To keep this conversation about Mrs. Ferrars going.” She asks Elinor not to think her impertinent for inquiring about Mrs. Ferrars, then hints at reasons for her inquiry. Her subtext:
You don’t want to end this conversation just yet, Elinor. I have things to tell you.
Unfortunately for Lucy, Elinor still doesn’t take the bait. So Lucy must try again, once more bringing up the subject of Mrs. Ferrars. This time she does more than hint, telling Elinor she and Mrs. Ferrars may become intimately connected. When Elinor still fails to understand, Lucy alleges that she’s engaged to Edward, not his brother, Robert.

Elinor’s Action Objective immediately becomes: “To convince herself of Edward’s steadfastness.” She first stares in silent amazement, then questions Lucy about the engagement at length. Subtext:
I don’t believe you; you’re lying.
Lucy’s new Action Objective is: “To make Elinor believe I am engaged to Edward.” She mentions how she and Edward met through her uncle. Her subtext:
You’d better believe me.
Elinor, unable to refute these arguments, suggests that perhaps they are not talking about the same man. Subtext:
I know Edward loves me. He cannot possibly be the man of whom you speak.
Lucy responds with proof that they are, indeed, discussing the same man. Her subtext:
It’s time to stop your denial.
Elinor, still unable to believe it, says she can’t understand why Edward has never mentioned Lucy. Subtext:
I still do not believe you
. Lucy replies that Edward wanted to keep the engagement secret. Subtext:
You’re running out of arguments, Elinor. Believe what I’m telling you.

Elinor still sounds unconvinced. Lucy pulls out the picture of Edward to “prevent the possibility of mistake” and places it in Elinor’s hands. Subtext:
Look upon the face of the man I say is mine, not yours.
Elinor is faced with the painful truth. Her new Action Objective: “To hide my grief.” She keeps a calm voice as she admits it is Edward, but by returning the picture “almost instantly,” she betrays her subtext:
I cannot bear to look at it.

2.
Delineate the description of Thought, Inflection, Movement, and Expression that convey the underlying communication of both women. Which is used most often? Which is used least?

Jane Austen uses mostly
Thought
to explain Elinor’s reactions. Since the scene is told from Elinor’s point of view, we are privy to her thoughts only.

Inflection
is used numerous times. First Elinor is said to make a “civil reply” to Lucy. A short time later Elinor says something in “great astonishment” and later cries “Good heavens!” In a cautious and calm voice that hides her surprise she asks Lucy how long she’s been engaged to Edward. Finally, she firmly states “Four years you have been engaged,” her inflection implying more of a probing question since she still does not believe it.

Movement
and
Expression
are less often used to convey Elinor’s subtext. When Lucy first refers to Edward, Elinor turns to her “in silent amazement”—a mixture of both
Movement
and
Expression
. In the same sentence we’re told “her complexion varied,” another use of
Expression
. And later, Elinor is said to show “painful perplexity” as she makes a reply. The perplexity could show through both
Inflection
and
Expression
. Elinor’s final
Movement
, her instant return of the picture, packs the most emotion because it so clearly betrays her subtext.

(By the way, you can see how often Elinor’s emotions are told instead of shown. This is common in classic literature. Not something you should do in your own writing.)

Since Austen remains in Elinor’s point of view, she cannot use
Thought
to convey Lucy’s meaning. Instead, she uses
Expression
almost exclusively. Lucy’s eyes tell us much. In fact, it is through a mere glance that Lucy first reveals she has ulterior motives for the conversation. When she first mentions her engagement to Edward, she looks down shyly, but glances sideways at Elinor to gauge the reaction. At other times, again when making statements about Edward, Lucy looks keenly at Elinor to observe her response. Lucy’s one
Movement
provides the climax of this interchange. She puts the picture of Edward in Elinor’s hands, forcing Elinor to accept the fact that they are talking about the same man.

FROM:
Gone to Ground
(stand-alone suspense), by Brandilyn Collins.

SETTING: Mississippi, present day. In the small town of Amaryllis, six women have been murdered in the same manner. Deena Ruckland, in her thirties, has come to the horrific realization that her brother is likely responsible for the crimes. In this scene Deena’s friend, local reporter Trent Williams, comes to her house for supper. Trent has been digging into the case. Deena’s Action Objective: “To
find out from Trent what time the latest murder occurred.” She’s hoping against hope it will be a time when she can account for her brother’s whereabouts. (Deena’s character is written in Southern dialect.)

In the kitchen Trent leaned against a counter, one foot crossed over the other. Without askin, I fetched him a Dr. Pepper with plenty of ice. That’s all Trent drank, mornin, noon, and night. Probably took showers in it.

I dumped spaghetti in the boilin water and stirred the sauce in the other pot.

He sniffed. “Smells good.”

“Yeah. Always better the second day.” I set the red-stained wooden utensil on the spoon rest. “So. You got here yesterday, I hear.”

“Not till mid afternoon. I was way on the other side of Jackson when I heard the news. I’d been there with Zeke, covering another case since Tuesday morning.”

Zeke was his supervisor. “Yeah, I know.” Trent’s sister, Sally, and I had both left messages on his cell phone Wednesday mornin. “Sally told me she finally got through to Zeke, askin him where you were. He said you and he had been up all night Tuesday followin leads on your story, and then you had to run to a court session for all day Wednesday.”

“Yeah, that’s a crazy case. But the minute I heard about Erika I begged off to come here. Just had to stop by home first for some extra clothes.”

He’d probably broken every speed limit gettin to Amaryllis. “You write another article for tomorrow?”

“Yup. Barely made my deadline after the autopsy.”

“The chief’ll love it.” If anybody in this town hated Trent, it was Chief Cotter. “What’s it gonna say?”

Trent slid a forefinger up and down his glass. “I talked to my contact at the facility in Jackson after Erika’s autopsy. Of course toxicology will take awhile, but like the other murders, I doubt they’ll matter. Erika’s pending cause of death is from the same kind of wound—a stab to the neck that cut the carotid artery. In fact he said the single stab was done exactly like the other victims—same precision, same placement. Which means it had to be the same perpetrator.”