dignified impertinence

i.e., what would Lizzie Bennett do?

“Upon my word,” said her ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. -- Pray, what is your age?”

“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth smiling, “your Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”

Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer; and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence!

I just finished another reread of Pride and Prejudice—for the second time this year. [Insert sheepish grin here.] Much like re-watching Gilmore Girls for the umpteenth time, I find a deep well of joy and comfort in revisiting Jane Austen novels. I’ve read Pride and Prejudice many times and know the quote well. But on this particular reread in this particular state of the world, daring to trifle with so much dignified impertinence sliced through me like a lightning bolt. It was a jolt of epiphany on an otherwise bleak feeling month, so much so that I’m toying around with tattooing “DIGNIFIED IMPERTINENCE” on my forearm as a reminder.

dignified impertinence in action?

Relatedly, I’ve been having a lot (and I mean A LOT) of conversations about rage and anger lately. One friend in particular is really in tune with her anger—perhaps more like in healthy conversation with her anger. To this Scorpio moon, it’s inspiring if also a little perplexing (like, wow, how can a human do this so seemingly naturally???). The ultimate manifestation of her anger reaches a deeply kind and mindful place. It’s not quick to be shared, nor is it slow to be processed. She has found this layered middle ground—a precarious balance—that is not only admirable, but appears to be so easy that I can only assume it’s product of a lifetime of experiences, hard work, and some help on natural disposition. The part that is extra impressive, though, is that she isn’t ashamed of her anger, nor is she proud of it in some aggrandized way. Her anger simply is what it is. Like a beauty mark on her face, or her coffee order.

And, it’s very Lizzie Bennett-like. Lizzie is a character that questions and observes. She, too, has a brand of healthy internal conversation, self-honesty, and acute awareness that isn’t pretentious or debilitating. She is, dare I say, aware of her own prejudices, but in a constructive way. She takes in new information as it comes and tries her best to feel what needs to be felt and process what needs to be processed to form opinions about the world around her.

If you haven’t read or seen Pride & Prejudice, you really should. It’s Austen’s more accessible novel and a goddamned delight. If you have read it, you know the strong-willed nature of our adored MC. Lizzie is sharp, curious, and independent in ways that are progressive for the time. Her manner of speaking is polite and articulate and also charming and witty. These characteristics stay consistent even when she is insulted, frustrated, or skeptical. Her inner world of self-reflection meets her perceived outer world in a magnetic package—people want to be around Lizzie, even her bookish, impatient father who finds his other daughters frivolous and silly. Lady Catherine’s admonition of her dignified impertinence, to me, perfectly encapsulates this magic quality.

Trying to harness some of that magic, I first turn to Merriam Webster, which defines impertinence as the quality or state of being impertinent: such as incivility, insolence, or inappropriateness. And, dignified as showing or expressing dignity (i.e., the quality or state of being worthy, honored, or esteemed).

So, in other words: An esteemed way of being inappropriate? An honorable incivility?? A worthy kind of insolence???

dignified impertinence = frolicking with literal black sheep in the Cotswolds?

If I dare to trifle with so much dignified impertinence, I must ask myself: what does that look like exactly? Recognizing the anger coursing through me (you, too?), and expressing it kindly, but fully, as my friend does—that feels like next-level dignified impertinence. An angry woman?! How dare she. But she does dare, and she dares so lovingly and fully. Without apology, pretension, or performance. And with a dash of cheeky humor.

Sometimes I really think I’m getting the hang of this channeling anger thing. Take, for example, an interaction I had last Friday in a parking lot in downtown Seattle. I was running late for an appointment with my hair stylist, so I parked in one of the very overpriced lots versus living on a hope and a prayer for street parking. As I made my way to the kiosk to pay, a bearded man in his late 30s/early 40s in a pearl snap shirt, black felt cowboy hat, and small bolo tie stepped in front of me. Without a look or word from me, he realized his impoliteness and stepped aside, mumbling something about how I should go ahead of him because he “would be taking a while to figure this thing out anyway.” Gee, thanks, dude.

I smirk a little, say “thanks, but no need, I use the QR code to pay anyway.” Sick burn, I say to myself. As I am pointing my phone at said QR code, I hear him say, “You know, I’m not normally dressed like this.”

Now, a rational human would probably just hum an “uh huh” and move along. This is a complete stranger after all. But, considering this man is clearly cosplaying a sad urban cowboy, and I myself wear a (much more chic) bolo tie every now and then in Seattle, I took the bait.

“Oh yeah?” I ask.

He proceeds to tell me that the only reason he’s dressed like this is that he’s meeting up with a friend he hasn’t seen in a long time, and it’s a joke. Now, at this point he doesn’t realize he’s talking to a born-and-raised Texan who grew up with lovely, salt-of-the-Earth humans who work damn hard in their cowboy hats, and it’s not the butt of the joke. In other words, he doesn’t realize he’s just given a lightly veiled, passive aggressive insult to a complete stranger.

Instead of going for the OG, plain-Jane IMPERTINENCE, I chose to respond very nicely, “I’m originally from Texas, so it’s not that strange of a look, aside from it being a dress hat worn so casually.” Okay, that last bit was definitely a reciprocated passive aggressive insult, but did he understand enough to catch the sting? Probably not. I’m really sticking it to him, right?

He responds by saying, “Oh, you should move back there. The politics here really kill me.”

Without skipping a beat, I cock my head to the side, plaster a petty smirk on my face, and respond with an ever-so-subtle cooing effect: “Well, the politics there would actually kill me.” I turn on my heel and walk away.

It felt cinematic. It felt good. I don’t ever nail a comeback in real time IRL. Something about simply stating the truth plainly without sugar coating the intent and nailing the “actually” left me rather smug. Dare I say again, I dared to trifle with dignified impertinence and f*ck if it didn’t feel satisfying. And, let me be clear: I wasn’t rude. On reflection, it was some authentic honorable incivility. Wouldn’t Lizzie Bennett be so proud?

In other contexts, dignified impertinence might be declining holiday gatherings that feel emotionally unsafe. Or, maybe saying “no” without qualification when someone asks you to do something outside of your boundaries (or hell, even within your boundaries when you don’t have capacity). Or, perhaps it’s even just unapologetically liking what you like and not feeling embarrassed about it because society still, somehow, infuriatingly invalidates women’s interests as frivolous. Romance novels and the color pink; sipping wine on patios while talking about our feelings; all of which are beautiful worthwhile pursuits of our time!!!

As I mull over 2024, as I am wont to do in this gorgeous month of December, I find myself focusing even more on this idea—a what would Lizzie Bennett do exercise. Because, as 2025 looms near, we need more of us to speak up in real time, even in seemingly innocuous exchanges. We need more of us to poke fun, deal some veiled insults, and feel smug at our cleverness as often as possible.

We need more of us to dare to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.

So, like, will you meet me at Pemberley? We ride at dawn.