Projecting Into the Past

I've been rereading Pride and Prejudice, and (aside from it increasing my dissatisfaction with the 2005 film adaptation) thinking about a bit of literary critique in the introduction to the edition of Wuthering Heights I read, which identified Heathcliff as the perfect "other": a man whose past and motives are unknown, an individual upon whom others are free to project whatever they wish.

Before the advent of the modern novel (in general terms, the publication of Woolf, Proust and Joyce), the concept of the interior life of a character was less emphasized. External events and actions were the focus, from which readers were left to infer interior motive. In some ways, one wonders how much current enjoyment of classic texts owes to this fact, to the fact that modern readers are free (within reason, as dictated by the actions of the characters) to project whatever motivations they desire onto the protagonists. Modern novels which attempt to expose the precise inner workings of a character can be no less timeless or brilliant, but require a far more thorough understanding of the era and society which they are products of before one can begin to understand their characters.

For example, Elizabeth Bennet. A modern reading might identify her as a strong, independent woman: a modern heroine, unwilling to settle for a materially comfortable yet spiritually and intellectually dissatisfying marriage. Yet is that not modern, Western thought projecting its own morality into the past? She is an individual, yet it is only Western thought which prizes the individual above the collective, emotion over rationality; only in Western art is romantic love deified. Is it right of Elizabeth to be so contemptuous of Mr. Collins (admittedly, this is difficult to argue against), and subsequently, of Charlotte for accepting him (this is far less so)? And yet, whether or not it is right, it is true, and it is consistent with her character and the novel as a whole. As with philosophy, when reading fiction one must always distinguish between what the writer believes should be and is. And even if her actions weren't completely rational, the cardinal rule which one must always remember is that people are not consistent. People will frequently say one thing and act in a different manner; only in art do we demand purity of thought and deed before accepting a character as "believable," when reality and experience teach us otherwise.