experts go head-to-head arguing for her best leading man

To mark the 250th anniversary of her birth, we’re pitting Jane Austen’s much-loved novels against each other in a battle of wit, charm and romance. Seven leading Austen experts have made their case for her ultimate leading man, but the winner is down to you. Cast your vote in the poll at the end of the article, and let us know the reason for your choice in the comments. It’s breeches at dawn.

Edward Ferrars, Sense and Sensibility

Championed by James Vigus, senior lecturer in English, Queen Mary University of London

Edward Ferrars, supposedly “idle and depressed”, gets a bad press. Even Elinor, who loves him, struggles to decipher his reserve. The explanation – his secret engagement to scheming Lucy Steele – seems discreditable. Yet among Sense and Sensibility’s showy, inadequate men, reticent Edward (alongside Colonel Brandon) is a hero.

Unlike Willoughby, who jilts Marianne to marry for money, Edward dutifully sticks with Lucy, wanting her to avoid penury. Significantly, Elinor approves. Edward has an “open affectionate heart”, this inwardness contrasting Willoughby’s more superficial “open affectionate manners”. And his “saucy” teasing of Marianne’s fashionable love of picturesque landscapes elicits her first-name-terms affection for him.

Edward, though, is serious – a Christian stoic like Elinor. Resistant to family pressure, he “always preferred” the church, an understated vocation. No orator, Edward speaks plainly: “I am grown neither humble nor penitent by what has passed. – I am grown very happy.” This happiness, the moral luck of gaining Elinor and a clergyman’s living, is credible because it’s deserved.

Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey

Championed by Sarah Annes Brown, professor of English literature, Anglia Ruskin University

There are many reasons why I love Jane Austen, but the charm of her leading men isn’t high on the list. In Austen’s novels, a witty and charming male should be approached with extreme caution. He is likely to prove an unsuitable suitor who must be rejected in favour of someone worthier – and duller.

But Northanger Abbey’s Henry Tilney is the exception. This is particularly true of the earlier part of the novel. There, he teases Catherine by imagining how she’ll describe her first meeting with him at the Lower Rooms in Bath in her diary.

He then goes on to gossip about ladies’ fashions with chaperone Mrs Allen. She asks for his opinion on Catherine’s own gown: “It is very pretty, madam,” said he, gravely examining it; “but I do not think it will wash well; I am afraid it will fray.”

It is very difficult to imagine Mr Darcy concerning himself with such trifles.
Admittedly Henry becomes a bit more finger-wagging in the second half of the novel – but then, he has been saddled with Austen’s silliest heroine.

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This article is part of a series commemorating the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth. Despite having published only six books, she is one of the best-known authors in history. These articles explore the legacy and life of this incredible writer.

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Colonel Brandon, Sense and Sensibility

Championed by Michael Meeuwis, associate professor of literature, University of Warwick

Austen wrote Colonel Brandon’s background to reflect the violence and seductions of the 18th-century novel. He nearly elopes with his brother’s wife Eliza, then he rescues Eliza and her daughter (also named Eliza) after seduction by someone else. Finally, he fights a duel with Willoughby over Eliza junior.

Here, Austen suggests that women in the 18th-century novel were generally so interchangeable they didn’t even need separate names. Sense and Sensibility’s heroine, Elinor, is magnificently unimpressed by his story. She “sighed over the fancied necessity of this; but to a man and a soldier she presumed not to censure it.”

Such wry commentary is only possible in a novel where quieter life prevails – and Brandon becomes a romantic hero of that world too. In marrying him, Marianne gains access to his library, where she may read – and perhaps even write – the kinds of books where women have names.

Edmund Bertram, Mansfield Park

Championed by Jane E. Wright, senior lecturer in English literature, University of Bristol

Edmund Bertram, the older cousin of Austen’s heroine, Fanny Price, in Mansfield Park, isn’t as dashing, wildly rich, or immediately appealing as some of Austen’s other leading men. A second son with a compromised inheritance, he is a matter-of-fact character training to be clergyman. He also exhibits misjudgment in falling in love (or infatuation) with the unsuitable Mary Crawford.

However, in addition to his seriousness about the church and responsibility in managing his father’s estate, he is the only one of Austen’s leading men who – against his family’s unkindness – is not only consistently caring towards the leading lady, but both notices her intelligence and takes trouble to support it.

In the fluctuations of the novel’s plot, he and Fanny offer care, caution, and comfort to each other, so that, in some respects, they might be said to come to their eventual marriage on slightly more equal terms.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pride and Prejudice

Championed by Penny Bradshaw, associate professor of English literature, University of Cumbria

On one level, Mr Darcy needs no championing. Cultural evidence (from branded tea-towels and other merchandise, to multiple portrayals on screen) suggests that he remains the most popular of Austen’s heroes.

His “fine, tall person” and “handsome features” are clearly important factors here, but his chilly reserve and initial dismissal of Elizabeth Bennet as merely “tolerable” do not immediately endear him to the reader.

The source of Darcy’s very great appeal lies partly in the fact that he begins to love her in spite of his own prejudices and because, while Darcy does undoubtedly admire Lizzie’s appearance (including her “fine eyes”), his admiration extends to qualities which, at this point in time, were hardly typical of the fictional heroines of romance.

Lizzie bears little resemblance to the usually rather passive and often victimised heroines encountered in countless popular novels of the late-18th and early-19th century. Crucially, Darcy is drawn to the “liveliness” of Lizzie’s mind and as a hero he therefore validates a new kind of heroine: a woman whose wit and intelligence is as much a part of her attraction as physical appearance.

Captain Wentworth, Persuasion

Championed by Emrys D. Jones, senior lecturer in 18th-century literature and culture, King’s College London

Frederick Wentworth isn’t meant to be admired from a distance like certain other Austen love interests. At various points in Persuasion, his thoughts are relayed to us through the free indirect discourse that more usually channels the inner lives of Austen’s heroines. And then, in the extraordinary penultimate chapter of the novel, we get his longing and his frustration straight from the source, in probably the most beautiful love letter in the history of literary fiction.

“Tell me not that I am too late,” he implores Anne Elliot. Notwithstanding his illustrious naval career, Wentworth is more vulnerable in that moment than any of the leading men before him. He writes of his soul being pierced, of his feelings overpowering him, using language that would, anywhere else in Austen, be mocked as excessive or indulgent. Wentworth carries it off, and in doing so proves that he’s a different kind of hero.

George Knightley, Emma

Championed by Christine Hawkins, teaching associate in school of the arts, Queen Mary University of London

George Knightley is underappreciated. “A sensible man about seven or eight and thirty” of a “cheerful manner” he is often undemonstrative, unshowy and cool. Not the classic dreamboat. But Knightley shows his worth through his honesty, trustworthiness and reliability.

Unlike the ostentatious Darcy, Knightley doesn’t offend and alienate everyone he meets. He is thoughtful and kind to others, championing the derided farmer Mr Martin, covering Harriet’s social embarrassment, and soothing the wounded feelings of Miss Bates. Knightley shows his sense of social responsibility. He is intelligent, practical and grounded.

Knightley is also Emma’s devoted lover: “I have not a fault to find with her … I love to look at her”. He sees her best qualities. But crucially, he questions her behaviour when he must (“I will tell you truths”) offering guidance and support when she acts wrongfully. Knightley is a secure, confident man, and his happy union with Emma is based on what every woman surely wants – equality and respect.

Now the experts have made their case, it’s your turn to decide which of Austen’s seven leading men is her best. Click the image below to vote in our poll, and see if other readers agree with you.

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