Mr. Darcy in turmoil: Pride & Prejudice (2005)
Rain
streams down Grecian columns, announcing a storm with turbulence paralleled only by Mr. Darcy’s fervent, and Elizabeth’s anguished, emotions.
The garden behind them is a drowning mass of green. Under the protective porch
of the garden’s decorative Roman temple, the tension is thick enough to cut.
“Might
I ask why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus repulsed?” Darcy’s
voice is stony, his face strained.
Elizabeth’s
eyes flash. She stands her ground in righteous fury, the goddess of the storm. “Do
you think that anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined,
perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”
Excruciating.
Thunder crashes. The audience writhes in agony.
This
declaration scene in the 2005 adaptation of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice, starring Kierra Knightley and Matthew
Macfadyen, is perhaps the most thrilling romantic scene of all time. When
Darcy’s and Elizabeth’s personalities clash, sparks fly, and set against the
stunning backdrop of Stourhead Estate in southern England, the scene is even
more passionate.
But
desperately romantic gardens aren’t included in this movie just for the sake of
good visuals. No, gardens and the life within them have been a critical part of
the British identity for centuries upon centuries. Jane Austen herself makes
ample use of them in her stories as ideal places for socializing,
self-reflection, and revelation. And, thanks to our excursion this past week
into Bath and Wales, we had front row seats to see how British people today
treasure and enjoy the beautiful natural world around them.
Driving out of London on the left side of the road
Our
first stop on our pilgrimage to Wales was Stonehenge. I love the way the nation
has managed the site—restrooms, gift shop, and visitor information are down the
road and over a ridge from the stone circle to give the ruins privacy. We had
to take a shuttle from the parking lot to Stonehenge itself. Posters inside the
shuttle encouraged patrons to visit other heritage sites afterwards, to
experience more history. That drove it home for me, we were on our way to Stonehenge! We were going to see history!
The
first sight of the ruins was thrilling. How can I even describe the majesty of
dark-green fields rolling to a horizon all around, while under a foreboding sky
these vast monoliths weighed down the Earth?
The mighty Stonehenge
Me at the mighty Stonehenge. This photo captures the feeling of the sky better.
A
light rain began to fall, and wind whipped our hair back and forth. The drama
of it all was enough to give you chills, inside and out. Looking out from Stonehenge,
across the way, was a field of sheep, and farther beyond that, a field of
yellow flowers. Far different from the Dippin-dots stands and the hydra-headed
public drinking fountains I can picture surrounding heritage sites in Utah,
Stonehenge had the feel of a national park—rugged, untouched, left in the wild
to be looked at and wondered at. It was easy to see the pride the security
officer and other workers took in guarding the site. When we asked them
questions about Stonehenge, they eagerly responded with an enormous amount of
knowledge, not just about the ruins but also about the surrounding area. It was
clear that, in terms of heritage, the natural area around the site is just as
important to the British as the stone ruins.
There
was something so evocative about the wild stones and landscape that I thought
Stonehenge would be the highlight of our trip.
But
then we went to the Stourhead Estate.
My,
oh my.
Hold
on to your britches folks, ‘cause there’s about to be some seriously unmanageable
beauty up in here.
Stourhead Mansion
Stourhead Chapel
Approaching the lake from the entrance
Looking out over the lake. I love the different shades of green.
Established
in the 18th century by a banking family, Stourhead is home to a
Palladian mansion and acres upon acres of naturalized gardens. Different than
the crisp topiaries, tidy flowerbeds, and sharp-angled paths of Enlightenment
era gardens, Stourhead’s gardens embody more Romantic ideals. Though the
gardens are man-made, they’re meant to look like they’re not, which means the
plants are tangled and sprawling, the paths meander to and fro, and the flowers
are left to overgrow.
A garden path along the lake shore
A stone tunnel covered in moss
After
the tight, boxed city, I felt myself breathing easier just by being there, and
I think other people felt that as well. Though not crowded, the garden paths
were busy with walkers. And life slowed down. There was no rushing here, only a
gentle mosey-on-by, a break to feed the ducks, a few-hour rest on a bench by
the lake. Everyone was smiling and peaceful.
One
volunteer told me, “I lived in the city for a long time, but I keep coming back
out here to the country. Meh, the city’s not for me.”
Over
the years and even today, people have spent a great deal of money recreating a look
that nature does naturally, but it was obvious to see that they value it even more
because it is an escape from city life that they can keep working in. Stourhead
is still a working estate, and we
passed many gardeners and volunteers who said they had worked there for years
and had no plans of leaving.
On
the final day of our expedition, we stopped at the famed Tintern Abbey.
Tintern Abbey
Of the land near Tintern Abbey Wordsworth wrote,
"Five years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.—Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky."
And
I can see why—the fluting birds, the insects, the smell of every green thing
come to life. The landscape around the ruins was nothing but an emerald carpet,
sweeping up the hills on either side.
It was strange to wander through the empty skeleton of the abbey and try to imagine how it must have been back in the day. Someone remarked that if King Henry VIII had not passed his dissolution of the monasteries, then Tintern might be a busy bustling city today.
Inside the ruins
As
it was, the ruins were busier than I would have thought. Conservation efforts
have been set to with a zeal seldom found outside the British, and this too was
a heritage site where people came to ramble with their dogs and take life
slowly. With the amount of people, I began to think that, though sites like
these had done well for Romantics in the past, modern day romantics would need
to forge farther afield to find their solitude, since now the population at
large has come to appreciate what Romantics have been telling us about all
along. Romantics, in the field, are the hipsters of the natural world.
Before
our trip I hadn’t realized how deep the British love for these historical sites
went. I’m grateful for the nationwide efforts to preserve them and grateful for
the chance I had to see them in such pristine condition!
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