Charlotte Lucas Considers How to Learn to Ride a Bicycle
What I learned living on my own again
Elizabeth tries to hide her disappointment,
she thinks I’m throwing myself away
by marrying this foolish, self-opinionated man.
But looked at rationally
what choice do I have?
I am not pretty like her
and without her wit.
We have no money, I am twenty seven.
Am I to stay at home, the daughter
of a vain semi-gentleman, my Gossip Mother,
and all my sisters gradually starting
to wear their skirts long, their hair up?
I have no feelings for him,
find his company irksome but
one can get used to anything.
I’ll keep him busy in the garden
and working at his sermons.
A bit of flattery will soon satisfy
his vanity, sense of his own importance
and I shall be quite comfortable.
Practical, that’s what I have to be
by choice if not by inclination.
As “parson’s wife” I’ll have respectability,
my own house, servants.
And as to Lady Catherine de Bourgh:
apparently deferring to her wishes
won’t be so hard, neither will conversation
as she herself does all the talking.
I’m sure I do the right thing
in the circumstances.
Find a quiet spot without distractions.
Every little stone may prove an obstacle.
Ask a friend to help by holding the bicycle.
Sit on the seat and turn the pedals
with both your feet. The idea is
to keep your balance.
Don’t look down at your feet, face forward.
Your friend will keep up with you.
Remember it is not as simple as it may look.
You will wobble, he will try to steady you.
Don’t blame him if you fall; everybody does,
sooner or later.
It is easier than you think.
It is much harder than you think.
You depend on your friend, but don’t
depend on him. Just bear in mind
it is his gift to you. If he has had enough
let him go.
That grieving is natural and hurts.
That it is easy to forget
one’s children of any age
also have to come to terms with their loss.
That it is important to fill
the space left empty.
That Christmas and Birthdays are best
spent with family or friends.
That “alone” is not synonymous with “lonely”.
That even your friends prefer to share good times
with you rather than your grief.
That it is possible to go out on one’s own.
That it is easier to get to know strangers
when not part of a couple.
That one can still laugh and enjoy oneself.
That one person might be able to do things
that were too expensive for two but
that a bargain is not a bargain
when one can use only half of it.
That one can indulge one’s own taste.
That freedom is something to treasure.
That life is still worth living.
The players came to our court today,
it is not often that we get a chance.
I always liked them, they are skilful.
They usually give a good performance.
This time the play was not so good,
we did not stay to see the end.
Their Queen talked on and on about her love,
how she would always venerate the King’s memory –
who’d said that he was ailing –
would never love another man at any time,
no matter how many years would pass.
No woman in her middle years should say that
when she feels capable of passion.
And then the nephew slays the King
by pouring poison in his ear
while he lies sleeping.
At seeing this, Claudius calls for lights
and leaves, most of us with him.
He was livid, I’ve never seen him like this.
What sort of play is this?
It was not entertaining as it should.
Villainous fantasy, he called it.
So far removed from real life.