What is the point of Mrs Norris?

My Jane Austen Rereading Project is more or less at an end (though I may reread one of the better completions of  the novel fragment The Watsons) as I have now finished Mansfield Park. I've already written about Fanny Price, and I hold to my opinion that she is, all in all, a sweet girl who has been too harshly treated by many readers and critics. (However, her reaction to Henry Crawford's and Maria's affair does feel a bit overblown - yes, it's a serious transgression which manages to injure most of the protagonists in some way, but Fanny makes it sound as if they've slaughtered a village). But there are other aspects of Mansfield Park  worth getting into, as after having read and reread the novel they are still a bit of a puzzle to me. One of them is the role of Fanny's Aunt Norris.

Many will associate Mrs Norris with Harry Potter - it's the name of Hogwarts caretaker Filch's cat. I'm pretty sure that her name is inspired by Mansfield Park and is Rowling's way of signalling to her readers that this is an unpleasant animal. Judging from the films, though (I haven't read the Harry Potter books), there is one significant difference between the two Mrs Norrises, apart from one of them being a cat. Filch's Mrs Norris is beloved by her owner, while no-one loves Mrs Norris in Mansfield Park.

The unspeakableness of Mrs Norris is certainly universally acknowledged. She is stingy, officious, petty, stupid and consistently nasty to poor Fanny, whom she treats as a servant while not showing any gratitude for all the errands she makes the girl run for her. She is on the wrong side of any argument, and there is hardly one situation she can't manage to make worse. I can't be the only reader whose heart sinks a little every time Mrs Norris enters the fray. And here is perhaps her worst failing as a novel character: she is no fun to read about. As heroine antagonists go, she doesn't have the villainous glamour of a General Tilney or the entertainment value of a Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She is almost as much of a trial to the reader as to her niece. So why do we have to put up with her?

Something that struck me when rereading the novel is that Mrs Norris doesn't fill much of a plot function. Yes, it's her idea to bring Fanny to Mansfield to start with, but its owner Sir Thomas Bertram could easily have come up with that idea himself. Later, she is active in bringing about the disastrous match between Maria Bertram and the rich and thick Mr Rushworth, but Maria would have been perfectly capable of arranging the match herself. Once Mary and Henry Crawford enter the scene, it is they and the Bertram siblings who drive the plot forward, not Mrs Norris. She is just a hanger-on who can be relied on to do the wrong thing.

So why did Austen include her in the novel? The most important reason is probably to increase Fanny's misery. Fanny's story echoes the Cinderella story in many respects, and Mrs Norris is more reminiscent of the Wicked Stepmother than Lady Bertram, who may take advantage of Fanny but who is in her languid way quite fond of her niece. Then again, one thing to be said for Wicked Stepmothers is that they tend to add spice to a tale in a way Mrs Norris completely fails to do. As I've already mentioned, characters who plague the heroine needn't do the same to the reader. Mary Crawford is a case in point: as the paramour of Fanny's beloved Edmund, no-one makes Fanny more miserable than she does, but she is a delight to read about.

Another possible explanation for Mrs Norris's existence is that Austen may have relished creating a character whom not even the most perverse reader could like. As the Sanditon fragment shows, she was aware that there are readers who will stubbornly root for characters which the author has set up to be warning examples. As a villain-lover, I mostly fall into that category myself, though the rake villain type favoured by Austen isn't really my cup of tea. So if the intention was to force this kind of reader into line - congratulations, Austen, job done. Also, it's probably more enjoyable to write about a thoroughly despicable character than to read about one. Mansfield Park may partly be a tract against self-indulgence, but maybe Austen indulged herself a bit on the part of Mrs Norris.

The best case one can make for the importance of Mrs Norris, I think, is that she acts as a catalyst. Her treatment of Fanny rubs off on the other characters, who would perhaps have treated her with more kindness and respect had they not unconsciously taken their cue from Mrs Norris. The Bertram girls believe they're in the right to despise Fanny, because their aunt agrees with them that she is ignorant. Lady Bertram thinks nothing of employing Fanny to fetch and carry for her because she sees her sister doing the same thing, and at least she does it nicely. Not even Edmund really questions Fanny's inferior position in the family, which makes it easier for him to do her little favours for which she is then suitably grateful. As to Fanny, though I would have preferred Austen to make her suffer in a way less insufferable to the reader, I can't deny that Mrs Norris's behaviour towards her offers a better explanation as to why the girl is so shy and unsure of herself than merely the aloofness of Sir Thomas and the neglect of the rest of the family would have done. She would still have had a hard time at Mansfield Park, but maybe not sufficiently hard to make her what she is.

Mrs Norris is not a badly drawn character - in her awful way, she is believable - and it would probably have been difficult to remove her from the plot altogether, at least not without making the rest of the Bertram family a little worse. Nevertheless, I can't help thinking that we could have done with a great deal less of her.

First-class folk tale fantasy

It's always easier to fill a blog post with whinging than gushing. However, when I come across a really good read, I (mostly) feel duty bound to write about it and spread the word a bit. And Uprooted by Naomi Novik is a first-class page turner. It engrossed me during two train journeys and nearly all moments I could steal during a two-day mini-conference.

The set-up easily explains why I bought the book in the first place. The heroine, the determinedly un-heroine-like Agnieszka, lives in a village in a fairy-tale version of Poland. The village lies close to the malignant Wood, a forest enchanted in all the wrong ways which each year encroaches a little further into the land. Keeping it at bay and protecting the nearby villages is a sorcerer called the Dragon, who is also the villages' overlord. Every ten years, he claims one of the girls in the villages who then goes to work for him in his isolated tower. After the ten years are over she is richly rewarded and can return to her family. Only, in the end, none of the girls choose to stay in their home village - they all go away and make a life for themselves elsewhere.

Agnieszka is one of the girls in the risk zone for being picked for Dragon duty, but she is not worried for herself: like everyone else, she is convinced that her best friend - beautiful, accomplished, sweet-natured and brave Kasia - will be the one selected. Agnieszka is no beauty, and her chief talent seems to be to tear her clothes and get herself muddy. She grieves for Kasia's sake, and yet when the day comes, the Dragon - somewhat churlishly - decides to take her instead.

So, sorcerer meets girl, sorcerer takes girl to his castle (well, kind of), sorcerer and girl get better acquainted - what's not to like? In fact, this is only one plot strand, forming a sort of classic fairy-tale base line, while there are all sorts of other things going on. We have to wait for quite a while before there is a thaw in the relationship between the Dragon and Agnieszka, and when it finally sets in they are both drawn in deeper than ever before in the fight against the Wood. There are twists and turns which keep you hooked to the end, wondering how such a formidable enemy as the Wood is ever going to be defeated.

The funny thing is, the few niggles I do have about the novel are closely connected to things that are good about it. A novel, like a person, isn't necessarily made out characteristics that are either good or bad: it can have traits that are both good and bad at the same time. Not that the aspects of the book I had problems with are bad, exactly - my criticisms are probably more to do with my personal tastes than anything else.

The reason the Dragon, aka Sarkan (which somehow sounds better though apparently it means the same thing), picked Agnieszka in the first place turns out to be that she has magic powers, and he is duty bound to train anyone with magic he comes across so they don't unwittingly make mischief. Now, Agnieszka's type of magic remains a mystery to him for a long time as it's quite different from his own, scholarly type of wizardry - it's very earthbound and close to nature. This is an important facet of the novel: because Agnieszka is so attuned to her surroundings, her descriptions of the Wood are intensely atmospheric, and it also helps her understand what kind of threat they're facing. At the same time, the whole concept of Agnieszka's magic being all earthy and mother-nature's-daughterish and Sarkan's being more dry and bookish and them complementing each other in some Yin-and-Yang way gets on my nerves a bit. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's clichéd, but somehow it's typical that the female magic user turns out to be the one who's unsophisticated but ultimately wiser because of her special bond with nature.

As I've mentioned, the relationship between Agnieszka and Sarkan is put on the back burner for a large part of the book. Which is also good in principle, because then parts of the story are highlighted that are more unpredictable. On the other hand, I liked Sarkan, and once the various adventures had reached their climax I would have preferred him and Agnieszka to move jointly into the foreground again. Instead, the narrative focuses more on Agnieszka finding her proper place and happiness on her own terms. Which is fine and dandy I'm sure, but... priorities, girl! It's not as if hot sorcerers are that easy to come by.

Agnieszka herself is another two-faced coin. She is certainly a more interesting heroine than the perfect Kasia would have been, but there are times when her anti-heroine status feels a touch overplayed, like when she's struggling at the royal court. Would it have killed her to make a little more of an effort to fit in, considering what's at stake?

These are just minor irritations, though, and as I said, probably down to my personal preferences. All in all, this novel is great, with an exciting story and well-drawn characters, including the supporting cast. Kasia somehow manages to be not unbearable; Prince Marek, who at first seems to be a typical "prince who turns out to be a bastard", has an overreaching motive for most of his actions which it's hard not to sympathise with; plus there's a delightfully shady wizard rival to Sarkan at court - the Falcon, aka Solya - who if I'm honest is even more up my street than Sarkan himself. For those who like their fantasy as close to a classic folk tale as possible, this is definitely worth checking out.

For my part, I'll be looking out for when Novik's newest novel Spinning Silver comes out in paperback, though the blurb has me somewhat worried. One can hardly fault the fairy-tale inspiration in this case, but, um, what happened to the original story's title character? Here's hoping the novel will not just be girl power all the way.