Persuasion is unlike Austen’s other novels in a variety of ways, perhaps one of the most obvious being that Anne Elliot, the heroine, is past her prime while Austen’s other heroines are all entering or at the pinnacle of their romantic viability. The novel is not so much about the contrivance of a marriage and the birth of a new love story so much as it is about the revisiting and restoration of a relationship that has already deep and complex roots. In this sense, Anne’s age, maturity, and even spinsterhood is critical to the development of her romance with Wentworth; while the relationships of other Austen heroines are brought together or guided by the help of parents, friends, or guardians, Anne and Wentworth’s relationship occurs in a more natural and independent manner. Nature in Persuasion demonstrates the revival and regeneration of Anne’s youthful hopes and optimism for love, and also displays the infinite and seemingly random possibilities that can occur outside the bounds of human orchestration.
Anne herself is first described with language associated with nature: “Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl, but her bloom had vanished early” — her youthfulness has waned, and it is clear that she has lost much of the aesthetic beauty she once possessed (7). The reader learns that this loss has much to do with “[h]er attachment and regrets…[which] clouded every enjoyment of youth,” the essence of this being her stifled relationship with Wentworth because of opposition from her family and friends (28). The reader’s understanding of Anne’s unhappiness as being a result from her suppressed — but still very much existent — feelings for her past lover is imperative to the way in which this love story unfolds. These feelings show that there is something already present between Anne and Wentworth, a history already established. It is also testament to the function of nature in Persuasion as being present, but nonlinear and arbitrary: Anne and Wentworth’s love, although sincere and real, could not have been artificially forced into a marriage when there were so many forces standing against it.
When Anne and Wentworth meet again, it is under seemingly random circumstances: Admiral and Mrs. Croft are renting Kellynch Hall from Sir Walter Elliot, and Wentworth visits them because Mrs. Croft is his sister. Anne and Wentworth’s meeting for the first time in nearly eight years after their failed engagement is not planned for their sake at all; rather, Wentworth seems to burst suddenly back into Anne’s life, a result of chance and unintentional circumstances. He is completely unmotivated to see Anne, still hurt by her refusal so many years ago. But it is important that it is unpredictable nature, not societal contrivance, that has brought the two together once again, simply through the natural unfolding of life’s events.
Anne and Wentworth’s reacquaintance details their physical appearance, making it clear that “the years which had destroyed her youth and bloom had only given him a more glowing, manly, open look” (57). With age, while Anne’s looks have decayed alongside her hopes and ideals of love, Wentworth’s appearance is associated with light and bounty, indicating the success and achievements he has amassed during their time apart. This is significant in its suggestion that nature affects every individual differently, humbling some and uplifting others generously. While Wentworth was originally Anne’s inferior in his lower social class and lack of financial resources, he is now viewed as her superior, as he has, over time, gained a title, wealth, and good looks.
At Uppercross, where Anne and Wentworth are growing in familiarity with the idea that the other is now a regular member of their daily lives, the scenes of nature, with their power and allure, intensify. On a walk with the Miss Musgroves, Anne silently rhapsodizes that “[t]he sweet scenes of autumn were for a while put by — unless some tender sonnet, fraught with the apt analogy of the declining year, with declining happiness, and the images of youth and hope, and spring, all gone together, blessed her memory” (79). Anne’s outlook here is clearly pessimistic; she feels that autumn, while beautiful, has an imminent fate of decay and loss. Like nature has affected her looks throughout the years, Anne feels that the beauty she is viewing is impermanent and an unhappy reminder that both her hopes from youth and her relationship with Wentworth, like a memory of spring, were fleeting, and now expired and obsolete.
However, in the very next paragraph, it is noted that “the fresh-made path spoke the farmer, counteracting the sweets of poetical despondence, and meaning to have spring again…[the walking party] gained the summit of the most considerable hill, which parted Uppercross and Winthrop, and soon commanded a full view of the latter, at the foot of the hill on the other side” (79). This perspective is filled with optimism and insinuates the development and possibility that nature holds. The future of Anne and Wentworth’s relationship is foreshadowed: although it seems that autumn has fallen upon their love, spring is always regenerative, filled with birth and promise. This quote also makes mention of the farmer as an active force in bringing about spring. This is perhaps suggestive that man must also take part in nature if he is to reap its benefits, and that between Anne and Wentworth, both individuals must labor and take action to renew the love that they have for each other in order for their relationship to ultimately flourish and thrive.
Of course, this reconciliation cannot come without work. On the same walk, Wentworth makes a speech likening one’s moral strength to that of a hazelnut: “[This] beautiful glossy nut…has outlived all the storms of autumn…while so many of its brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot, [this nut] is still in possession of all the happiness that a hazel-nut can be supposed capable of” (81). Although this speech seems slightly silly on the surface, it is of importance that Wentworth uses a metaphor of nature and likens it to Anne, who is clearly his intended audience and the subject he is thinking of in his speech. Wentworth still considers Anne to have weak moral character for refusing him on the basis that his lack of wealth and social status was opposed by her family and friends, and that she was so easily persuaded by them. Although his perception of Anne’s weakness is rectified eventually, it is significant that Wentworth so highly values a resolute and unwavering mind, and believes, by the end of the novel, that Anne possesses one.
Perhaps the most Romantically written passage of the entire novel occurs during the visit to Lyme, where the beauty of nature is emphasized heavily: “Charmouth, with its high grounds and extensive sweeps of country, and still more its sweet retired bay, backed by dark cliffs…Pinny, with its green chasms between romantic rocks, where the scattered forest trees and orchards of luxuriant growth declare that many a generation must have passed away since the first partial falling of the cliff prepared the ground for such a state, where a scene so wonderful and so lovely is exhibited” (89). Lyme’s sublime natural beauty is a fitting town to rekindle Anne’s optimism and attractiveness, the town where Anne and Wentworth’s relationship begins to sprout and develop once more. In fact, Lyme is shown to literally have a physically rejuvenating effect: in a conversation between Anne and Henrietta Musgrove during a morning stroll, Henrietta notes: “Dr. Shirley…declares himself, that coming to Lyme for a month, did him more good than all the medicine he took; and, that being by the sea, always makes him feel young again” (95). Lyme is a town with a natural environment noted for its restorative qualities, and this is paralleled with the way that the connection between Anne and Wentworth is revivified.
Nature itself also restores Anne’s bloom and beauty: as Anne’s party make their way through Lyme, Anne is described to be “looking remarkably well; her very regular, very pretty features, having the bloom and freshness of youth restored by the fine wind which had been blowing on her complexion, and by the animation of eye which it had also produced” (97). It is at this moment that Captain Wentworth once again notices Anne’s beauty and is struck by it. Here, nature is shown as a driving force in forwarding change and transformation; it physically affects the way that Anne looks, and is the cause for the admiration bestowed upon her by Mr. Elliot and Captain Wentworth.
In Bath, Anne and Mr. Elliot’s acquaintance develops. As it becomes clearer and clearer that Mr. Elliot is interested in pursuing Anne and is deemed a suitable match by Lady Russell and Anne’s family, Anne reflects on her own perception of Mr. Elliot. She comes to the conclusion that he “was rational, discreet, polished, — but he was not open. There was never any burst of feeling, any warmth of indignation or delight, at the evil or good of others…Warmth and enthusiasm did captivate her still” (151). The large difference between static characters and changing ones in Persuasion is extremely evident, and the fact that they are described through nature-related terms further signifies the function and importance of the natural world in the novel. While Anne and Wentworth are associated with bloom, blush, and glow as a testament to their dynamic and constantly improving identities, characters like Mr. Elliot, Elizabeth Elliot, and Sir Walter Elliot are all characterized as stationary and unmoving. Elizabeth, at the very beginning of the novel, is described to be beautiful, but “Thirteen winters revolving frosts had seen her opening ever ball of credit which a scanty neighbourhood afforded” (8). Later in the novel, the simple presence of Sir Walter and Elizabeth in a room “seemed to give a general chill” (211). While characters like Elizabeth and Sir Walter Elliot are associated with a frosty and unchanging winter, by contrast Anne and Wentworth’s open and bright dispositions are more positive and filled with the possibility associated with change.
The scene of the concert where Anne and Wentworth converse again for the first time after seeing each other in Lyme is a turning point in the novel, where the two agree that the natural beauty they witnessed in Lyme was enjoyable and necessary (174). From this conversation alone, Anne transforms once again: “Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks glowed, — but she knew nothing about it” (175). Her affection and attachment to Wentworth beautifies her, and her realization that “by the tenderness of the past…[h]e must love her” reinstates her to what she once was (175). Here, the reader sees that the restorative characteristics of nature are paralleled in the restoration of Anne’s lost youth and beauty through Wentworth’s love. In comparison to Wentworth’s passion and energy, Mr. Elliot’s predictable and repetitive nature cannot possibly equal.
The manner in which Wentworth professes his love to Anne for the second time is the climax of the novel, filled with Romantic language and fervor. His letter admits his resentful feelings towards her when he first returned, but assures her that his love for her has always been constant (222). Anne, unbelievably happy, joins Wentworth outside on the street, where her “cheeks which had been pale now glowed, and the movements which had hesitated were decided” (225). Finally, she and Wentworth have been brought together, not in a contrived and schemed manner, but naturally and honestly.
Austen utilizes nature in a variety of ways throughout Persuasion. It restores and beautifies life, and functions as a guide for relationships and love. But it does not come without its costs; the destructive and precipitate qualities are also enumerated, and it is clear that although Anne and Wentworth ultimately gain love and satisfaction, they have still lost many years and suffered misunderstanding and regret. Although Persuasion, like all of Austen’s other novels, ends with a marriage, and the reader is happy to see that “Anne was tenderness itself,” Austen also notes that “she must pay the tax of quick alarm,” in the case that war arises and Wentworth is called to battle (236). In this way, Austen philosophically notes that nature and its tidings are capable of bringing anything, tragic or favorable, no matter how unexpected.