We've had Brexit and Trump, and America might also be having an avocado shortage, but this just in from some British history professors: Mr. Darcy may not have been the thigh-quiveringly handsome suitor we all imagine him to be, is perhaps the worst news story of them all.
Basically, Colin Firth in that dripping wet shirt in the BBC adaptation of Austen's Pride and Prejudice, has done us all a tremendous disservice. (Yes, yes we know the shirt was written in to the series to add some sauce, but STILL).
![Colin Firth as Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice.](/web/20170210060337im_/http://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/content/dam/images/g/u/a/1/9/y/image.related.articleLeadwide.620x349.gua26z.png/1486704859085.jpg)
To borrow from Bridget Jones, wanton sex goddess who was enamoured with her own Mr. Darcy (also played by Colin Firth), "It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces." Except that nothing has been OK for a good while now and this, THIS, does not feel OK.
John Sutherland, an English professor at University College London and Amanda Vickery, a history professor at Queen Mary University of London have attempted to render what Mr. Darcy might have actually looked like based on the very limited descriptions of him, the kind of man Austen might have fancied, and the beauty standards of the time.
Academics reveal the real Mr Darcy. https://t.co/mbbKnxZdPl
— Drama Channel (@drama_channel) February 9, 2017
The result? Well, herewith some out takes from their description of his physical appearance:
"Loose, powdered mid-length hair,"
"Smooth, unmarked skin ... Odds-on he was as pale as marble, with something of the classical statue,"
"The square-jawed hero is virtually unknown at this period,"
"The six pack was unknown and square-shouldered bulk was the mark of the navvy not the gentlemen. Chests were modest and shoulders sloping ... The general effect was one of languid, graceful length not breadth. More ballet dancer than beef-cake."
Of course, even when talking about Jane Austen, attractiveness is always going to be a case of different strokes for different folks. One person's weak chin is another's erogenous 'thing' and all, and we can't all look like Colin Firth (gosh, even poor Colin Firth wasn't thought to have been handsome enough to play the role of Darcy).
As Charles Darwin once wrote, "It is certainly not true that there is in the mind of man any universal standards of beauty with respect to the human body."
Thing is though, we may all be held hostage to impossible beauty standards (e.g. in Austen's time a tan was terribly declasse) and research suggests that there are generally universal agreements on what makes someone attractive (it's all about facial symmetry, see).
So there's little point in fretting too much about the gap between fantasy and reality - think of it as the romantic novel version of a Tinder date who was perhaps a little creative with how he sold himself in his profile. And let's cut this rendering of a fictional figure some slack, like all of us, he's just doing the best with what he's got.
That said, to help soften the blow, remember, we always have this: