- 28 jul 2009 15:23
Nee, dat word niet expliciet uitgelegd. Je moet zelf je conclusies trekken uit de volgende alinea:
No one had ever come within the Kellynch circle, who could bear a comparison with Frederick Wentworth, as he stood in her memory. No second attachment, the only thoroughly natural, happy, and sufficient cure, at her time of life, had been possible to the nice tone of her mind, the fastidiousness of her taste, in the small limits of the society around them. She had been solicited, when about two-and-twenty, to change her name, by the young man, who not long afterwards found a more willing mind in her younger sister; and Lady Russell had lamented her refusal; for Charles Musgrove was the eldest son of a man, whose landed property and general importance were second in that country, only to Sir Walter's, and of good character and appearance; and however Lady Russell might have asked yet for something more, while Anne was nineteen, she would have rejoiced to see her at twenty-two so respectably removed from the partialities and injustice of her father's house, and settled so permanently near herself. But in this case, Anne had left nothing for advice to do.
Anne is 'nice' (toen betekende dat niet 'aardig', maar dat je niet met het eerste het beste tevreden zou zijn), en 'fastidious' (kieskeurig). Ze heeft echte liefde voor een superieur man gekend. Ze gaat zich nu niet neerleggen bij iets 'minder.
Iets wat ik trouwens heel leuk vinden is hoe de betekenissen van woorden zijn veranderd. Die 'nice' is een goede voorbeeld van. Wentworth zegt ook op een bepaalde moment:
"Yes, here I am, Sophia, quite ready to make a foolish match. Anybody between fifteen and thirty may have me for asking. A little beauty, and a few smiles, and a few compliments to the navy, and I am a lost man. Should not this be enough for a sailor, who has had no society among women to make him nice?"
Maar wat 'nice' kon betekenen was al aan het veranderen tijdens het leven van Jane. Wat vond ze daarvan? Dat kunnen we ook wellicht halen uit Northanger Abbey:
"But now really, do not you think Udolpho the nicest book in the world?"
"The nicest -- by which I suppose you mean the neatest. That must depend upon the binding."
"Henry," said Miss Tilney, "you are very impertinent. Miss Morland, he is treating you exactly as he does his sister. He is forever finding fault with me, for some incorrectness of language, and now he is taking the same liberty with you. The word `nicest,' as you used it, did not suit him; and you had better change it as soon as you can, or we shall be overpowered with Johnson and Blair all the rest of the way."
"I am sure," cried Catherine, "I did not mean to say anything wrong; but it is a nice book, and why should not I call it so?"
"Very true," said Henry, "and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk, and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh! It is a very nice word indeed! -- It does for everything. Originally perhaps it was applied only to express neatness, propriety, delicacy, or refinement; -- people were nice in their dress, in their sentiments, or their choice. But now every commendation on every subject is comprised in that one word."
"While, in fact," cried his sister, "it ought only to be applied to you, without any commendation at all. You are more nice than wise."
""A sense of humor can help you overlook the unattractive, tolerate the unpleasant, cope with the unexpected, and smile through the unbearable."