Becky is supposed to be what would be called today an anti-hero. Does that make her unsympathetic to you? The idea of a comic strip starring her is based precisely on how she is so charming that everybody wants her to succeed in her schemes.
I think your post espresses a great deal of hyperbole.
It wasn't exactly a dog-eat-dog world. Becky wasn't satisfied with merely getting ahead well enough to be comfortable--she wanted to get to the top. Considering what a minuscule percentage of the population belonged to the creme-de-la-creme of society, not only was she aiming pretty darned high for herself, but also for the majority of the people living in England at that time.
At the time, social standing was everything, and many women would have done anything to get to the top, because if you werent at the top, you were nothing.
Only if you personally aspired to that. Most women of Becky's class would have been fortunate to marry a man who could afford to feed and clothe her, and offer the security of a roof over her head. Becky wanted what nearly no one had.
I do find Becky unsympathetic--which is Thackeray's point in writing the novel. We're supposed to scorn Becky's behavior. We're also supposed to scorn the class that she aspires to.
I love becky too. She's a fun character. If you really want to see her in action, you should watch the 1998 miniseries starring natasha Little as Becky. Then you'll really see what Becky can do! ;o)
I do understand where you're coming from. I just objected to the idea that all women wanted to attain what Becky was aiming for--and the idea that the only way to improve one's lot in life was to take what one wanted through any means at one's disposal.
I am, however, sick of just seeing characters so black and white.
I get what you're saying, and would agree in many circumstances. Having read VF a couple of times, though, this is Thackeray's point. He doesn't really leave any gray area where Becky is concerned, imo. The narrator makes that pretty clear. :-)
I do know what you mean about scorning the society, (and i do agree, that it is worth scorning) however we can do that now because of our societies belief that 'love is better than money'.
I don't feel that the idea of love being more important than money is such a modern invention, though. In fact, one of the themes in Jane Austen's fiction is that it is important to marry for love. (Even with all the mention of marrying rich men in her novels, Austen always drives home the point of the importance of marrying for love.) Note that Jane Austen lived during the time which Vanity Fair is set and her novels are also set during that period.
I think its a bit narrowminded of audiences to label these women as shallow, selfish beings when bettering themselves in society [...]
Well, my point is that it's not the audiences who are labelling Becky as shallow--it's the author of the source material! Actually, he portrayed her as a shallow woman who cared only about herself-- which is a stronger thing than simply labelling her as a shallow person. :-)
Having read Jane Austen's letters, I wouldn't say she had her head in the clouds. ;o) And with all of the hidden (yet intentional) references to the abolition movement in her novels, I think she had her head planted firmly in the important moral debates of her times. ;-) http://www.amazon.com/Jane-Austen-Context-Abolition-Fling/dp/140399121 9
Also, all of her heroines did not marry incredibly rich men: clergyman Edward Ferrars' mother essentially replaced him as eldest son with his younger brother, and Edmund Bertram was also a clergyman. :-)
I have to agree with the skitz weasel on this one, Jane Austen did have her head up in the clouds.Her characters have never seemed real to me and Becky's character, even though it is negative is far more likeable for being real. I love Becky's character and leaving the book aside, I like the way Mira Nair and Reese Witherspoon portrayed Becky.
I think we must remember that Jane Austen was writing for money - and gave her public what they wanted. That meant generally rich, handsome and morally sound. Just as we want our romances today....:-)
She could be remarkably cruel in her private writing. Discussing a poor woman who had just suffered a miscarriage - Austen writes 'It must be that she was taken unawares and caught sight of her husband...'
That sort of writing wouldn't have brought the bacon home.
She does deal with important social issues. For example - she casts no blame on Colonel Brandon's god daughter for becoming pregnant - rather blames the cad (Willoughby) who abandoned her. She deals with the fact that, for women, marriage is their only choice. "It must be our pleasantest preservative from want..." - and I think that still holds fairly true for a lot of women today.
As for VF - I think Becky and Amelia are two extremes of character to illustrate the choices available to women (who don't have money) at this time. When you think about poor Amelia's attempts to sew buttons on cards - or advertising for pupils. In some ways - I find Amelia as heartless and selfish as Becky - poor Dobbin. Dobbin! My hero! - Don't you just love him? I love Thackeray's work - and this is a yearly favourite read of mine
I don't think Amelia is heartless toward Dobbin, just so in love with George even after his death, that other men don't exist for her; she is not deliberatly cruel to Dobbin, just completely blind to his devotion, and the loyal Dobbin does nothing to disbuse her of her perception that George was devoted to her. Becky does that.
Amelia's devotion to George's memory isn't really love, imo. It's an obsession that she uses to appear the pious, loyal widow. All the characters in Thackeray's novel have some sort of "vanity"; Amelia's is the attention she gets from being so unnaturally perfect, including the perfect widow of a very flawed husband.
Amelia was truly in love with George who did not deserve her. Love made her blind to her husband's lack of love for her and his faults. Amelia's behavior during the exodus from Brussels, when disheveled and crying, she wandered forlornly among the departing regiments begging for news of her husband. She was a woman from a respectable family and such behaviour was inappropriate to her station, but her love was such that she didn't care about appearances. When she encounters Becky, who is trying to make her come inside, Amelia berates her for stealing her husband's company the night before the regiment was mobilized. After his death, she wraps herself up in their baby, whom she loves, as she tells Dobbin even though she previously thought that her heart did not have room in it for another such love as she had had for George. She is so wrapped up in her memories of George and love for her child that she is as blind to Dobbin's devotion as she was to George's faithlessness.