37 pages • 1 hour read
Maria EdgeworthA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“We cannot judge either of the feelings or of the characters of men with perfect accuracy from their actions or their appearance in public; it is from their actions or their appearance in public; it is from their careless conversations, their half finished sentences, that we may hope with the greatest probability of success to discover their real characters.”
Edgeworth’s editorial comment that the “careless conversations” and “half finished sentences” of the biographer’s subject reveal their characters far better than their more public statements paves the way for Thady’s revelations of minutiae in his narrative. It is in the incidental reported actions that the reader can observe both his character and those of the various Rackrents.
“He was an illiterate old steward, whose partiality to the family in which he was bred and born must be obvious to the reader.”
Edgeworth emphasizes Thady’s authenticity and guilelessness; the fact that he is illiterate somehow makes him seem more trustworthy, because he has no recourse to the highfaluting rhetoric that can bring forth deception. She also draws attention to his fierce loyalty, perhaps asking the reader to be attentive to where his judgment might be clouded.
“When Ireland loses her identity by union with Great Britain, she will look back with a smile of good-humoured complacency on the Sir Kits and Sir Condys of her former existence.”
Edgeworth anticipates that the dissolution of Ireland and the Irish identity, which has enabled the behavior of the Sir Kits and Sir Condys. These decadents will soon become a nostalgic figure of fun, rather than a current phenomenon. This is part of Edgeworth’s effort to emphasize that these figures were soon to be symbols of the past.
“The family of the Rackrents is, I am proud to say, one of the most ancient in the kingdom. Every body knows this is not the old family name, which was O’Shaughlin, related to the Kings of Ireland—but that was before my time.”
Thady’s pronouncement of the general awareness of the Rackrents’ ancient Irish origins emphasizes their noble indigenous lineage, even if, as the narrative will show, they will pick up the habits of dissolute English lords.
“Never did any gentleman live and die more beloved in the country by rich and poor—his funeral was such a one as was never known before nor since un [sic] the country!—All the gentlemen in the three counties were at it—far and near, how they flocked!—my great grandfather said, that to see the women in their red cloaks, you would have taken them for the army drawn out.”
Thady’s description of the lavish funereal festivities for Sir Patrick show the locals’ taste for pageantry as well as their appreciation of landlords who are generous entertainers. This will be significant at the end, when Condy, nurtured on Thady’s tales of Sir Patrick’s wake, desires a similar wake, in order to bolster his sense of self, at the time when his estate is being taken away from him.
“He was a very learned man in the law, and had the character of it; but how it was I can’t tell, these suits that he carried cost him a power of money—in the end he sold some hundreds a year of the family estate—but he was a very learned man in the law, and I know nothing of the matter except having a great regard for the family.”
Although Thady is saying that Sir Murtagh Rackrent is knowledgeable about the law, his repetitions undercut the credibility of his statement. He then reinforces the notion that he does not really believe in what he is saying when he maintains that he is ignorant of everything except his partiality for the Rackrents.
“Though a learned man in the law, he was a little too incredulous in other matters. I warned him that I heard the very Banshee that my grandfather heard, before I was born long under Sir Patrick’s window a few days before his death.”
The Banshee is a fairy in the shape of a little hideous old woman and sings in a mournful, supernatural voice under the windows of houses, to warn people that they are about to die. One the one hand, the fact that Thady believes in this superstition indicates his Irish rustic nature, which runs counter to educated Sir Murtagh’s Enlightenment logic. However, when the Banshee’s death visits prove true, the novel’s narrative proves that knowledge of the land and its lore is essential if one is to survive on the Rackrent estate.
“Not a week without a call for money—drafts upon drafts from Sir Kit—but I laid it all to the fault of the agent; for, says I, what can Sir Kit do with so much cash, and he a single man? but still it went.”
Thady’s fondness for the Rackrent family means that he willingly blinds himself to their spendthrift, selfish nature. It is far easier for him to blame the middle man Sir Kit has hired in his place than to imagine that desperate Sir Kit is the one exploiting the tenants himself.
“She was a Jewish by all accounts, who are famous for their great riches. I had never seen any of that tribe or nation before, and could only gather that she spoke a strange kind of English of her own, that she could not abide pork or sausages, and went neither to church nor mass.”
Thady relies upon hearsay of Anti-Semitic stereotypes to help him understand Sir Kit’s unfamiliar new bride. Her English, which is “of her own,” is further proof of her alterity and Thady cannot quite accept her as a member of the family he serves.
“It must have been hard for her to guess what sort of a husband he reckoned to make her—when she was lying, to all expectation, on her death-bed, of a broken heart, I could not but pity her, though she was a Jewish.”
Having witnessed the trial of Sir Kit’s Jewish bride, Thady looks past his Anti-Semitism to recognize her humanity. He sees, arguably, that like him, she was at the mercy of Sir Kit’s goodwill and that he betrayed her trust.
“Sir Patrick Rackrent lived and died a monument of old Irish hospitality.”
The notice that Sir Condy erects on a marble stone in Castle Rackrent’s church is an attempt for this new heir to establish himself as Sir Patrick’s true successor. However, it is also a nostalgic gesture, which hints at further losses to come.
“Sir Condy all this time, and a great while afterwards, was at a terrible nonplus, for he had no liking not he to stage plays, nor to Miss Isabella either; to his mind, as it came out over a bowl of whiskey punch at home, his little Judy M’Quirk who was daughter to a sister’s son of mine, was worth twenty of Miss Isabella.”
Sir Condy’s pleasures are shown to be simple (whiskey and a pretty girl), as opposed to the sophistication and culture that Miss Isabella presents. There is some humor in the fact that the bowl of whiskey is mentioned before the woman Sir Condy likes, another reference to the importance of alcohol in Anglo-Irish culture.
“My lady had a fine taste for building and furniture, and play-houses, and she turned every thing topsy-turvy, and made the barrack-room into a theatre, as she called it, and she went on as if she had a mint of money at her elbow; and to be sure I thought she knew best, especially as Sir Condy said nothing to it one way or the other.”
There is an irony to the new Lady Rackrent’s actions; she spends a fortune on theatrical apparatus while denying to herself her own, dire financial situation. This shows the disconnect that many of the nobility have in regard to the realities of life.
“Bills as long as my arm of years and years standing; my son Jason had ‘em all handed over to him, and the pressing letters were all unread by Sir Condy, who hated trouble and could never be brought to hear talk of business, but still put it off and put it off, saying—settle it any how, or bid ‘em call again to-morrow…”
The number of bills is expressed viscerally, with the length of Thady’s arm as a measure. This extract expresses the extent of Sir Condy’s procrastination in regard to his bills. He is in denial about the extent of his debt.
“Now it was hard to find the right time to speak, for in the mornings he was a-bed and in the evenings over his bottle, where no gentleman chuses [sic] to be disturbed.”
Sir Condy here shows symptoms of depression and lethargy as he prefers to drink to escape his pain and then spends his mornings hungover. His mental state is both a reflection of his passive, weak character and the cursed predicament of inheriting an estate that is drowning in debt.
“Another time in the winter, and on a desperate cold day, there was no turf in for the parlour and above stairs, and scarce enough for the cook in the kitchen, the little gossoon was sent off to the neighbours to see and beg and borrow some, but none could he bring back with him for love or money.”
This extract describes the human consequences of Sir Condy’s inadequacy. There is barely enough food to feed the household and a vulnerable young errand boy is sent to bring in revenue, instead of the landlord.
“I was very lonely when the whole family was gone, and all the things they had ordered to go and forgot sent after them by the stage. There was then a great silence in Castle Rackrent, and I went moping from room to room.”
Thady’s devotion to the Rackrent family is such that he feels lonely and depressed when Condy and Isabella have gone to Dublin and he is left alone in the crumbling mansion. The silence is expressive of Thady’s loneliness and loss of identity without the Rackrent family.
“He said a great deal more to me, to whom he had been fond to talk ever since he was my white-headed boy before he came to the estate, and all that he said about poor Judy I can never forget, but scorn to repeat.”
Thady’s fondness for Sir Condy and his discretion means that he does not share all of what the latter confides in him with the reader. However, there is a hint of a scandal with regard to Judy, whom he has clearly had some type of relation with, even after he is married. Thady’s emotional, empathetic nature is conveyed in his ability to feel both Sir Condy and Judy’s misfortune as though it were his own.
“So I did, Ma’am, to the best of my ability, one of the panes with the old pillow-case, and the other with a piece of the stage green curtain—sure I was as careful as possible all the time you were away, and not a drop of rain came in at that window of all the windows in the house, all winter, Ma’am, when under my care.”
This passage illustrates the great care taken by Thady to protect Castle Rackrent’s building. He does everything he can to ensure that any antagonistic external elements do not enter the building. In this way, the reader might see that he is the true custodian of the house.
“Many wondered at my lady’s chusing [sic] to go away, considering all things, upon the jaunting car, as if it was only a party of pleasure; but they did not know till I told them, that the coach was all broke in the journey down, and no other vehicle but the car to be had.”
The showy jaunting carriage would not ideally be the best vehicle for the formal occasion of returning Isabella to her family. However, the Rackrents’ estate is in such bad repair that it is, ironically, the only vehicle available. This indicates the extent of the disorder in the house.
“The execution came down, and every thing at Castle Rackrent was seized by the gripers, and my son Jason, to his shame be it spoken, amongst them—I wondered, for the life of me, how he could harden himself to do it, but then he had been studying the law and made himself attorney Quirk.”
Thady compares his own passive and loyal nature to his son Jason’s hardened, pragmatic one. He surmises that Jason’s study of the law has been the means by which he has been able to distance himself from the Rackrent family, as well as his own family’s traditional, servile role.
“The people in the town who were the most of them standing at their doors, hearing the childer [sic] cry, would know the reason of it; and when the report was made known, the people one and all gathered in great anger against my son Jason, and terror at the notion of his coming to be landlord over them, and they cried, No Jason! No Jason!—Sir Condy! Sir Condy! Sir Condy Rackrent for ever!”
This passage illustrates the love the people have for Sir Condy Rackrent and their desire that the old order should not pass. Arguably, the people’s blind love stems from the fact that like Thady, they are identified with the Rackrents, however inefficient and exploitative they may have been. Even if their lives were tough ones, they retained an identity that they understood.
“Thady, (says he) all you’ve been telling me brings a strange thought into my head; I’ve a notion I shall not be long for this world anyhow, and I’ve a great fancy to see my own funeral before I die.”
Sir Condy’s strange desire to see his own funeral before he dies indicates that following his abdication from Castle Rackrent, his only hope for experiencing the appreciation he craves is through staging a funeral on the monumental scale of Sir Patrick’s, in order to be able to see all the mourners who will show up to honor him.
“He lays it before the English reader as a specimen of manners an [sic] characters, which are perhaps unknown in England. Indeed the domestic habits of no nation in Europe were less known to the English than those of their sister country, till within these few years.”
The Editor of Thady’s text rounds off his narrative with a statement that describes the account as a scientific study of Irish manners and characters, which he assumes are unknown to the English. The Editor therefore takes on the role of exposing a mystery.
“Did the Warwickshire militia, who were chiefly artisans, teach the Irish to drink beer, or did they learn from the Irish to drink whiskey?”
The Warwickshire militia served in Ireland in the 1790s and given the exchange of alcohols—beer for whiskey—there is the notion that eventually the same brews will be drunk in both England and Ireland. This state of affairs reflects the movement towards the monoculture that the Editor anticipates after England and Ireland are joined in the Union.
By Maria Edgeworth