May I begin this lovely post by saying, Pride and Prejudice has to be my favorite movie ever. I haven’t seen any of the earlier ones or the one with Colin Firth, whom I respect deeply as an actor, but reject as the ultimate Mr. Darcy. My favorite version, in other words, the only version I’ve seen is the one with Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet and Matthew Macfadyen as Mr. Darcy.
Now, I am not the best fit person to judge all of the Darcy’s, but I’ve seen pictures and Matthew by far makes the best Darcy. I mean just look at him.
He looks quiet, dark, and brooding.
He looks menacing and enchanting at the same time.
Oh! His beautiful, piercing eyes during that conversation in the rain!
My heart melted when he smiled and Elizabeth.
Can you really compare this Mr. Darcy to any of the other chumps you see here?
Now. Before I keel over with love for this man, I have to say, out of all the choices that I can make regarding the ultimate Byronic hero, it would definitely be… well, before I make a choice, let me think this through.
Mr. Rochester, from Jane Eyre: Now, my infatuation with this man has quelled quite a bit. Considering I used to dream about this man. I just know, that if I were to love him, I’d get hurt. He would want to marry me and by agreeing, I would unknowingly commit the crime of bigamy. Not only that, he would constantly call me unattractive. Right, right Mr. Edward Rochester. You’re not an Abercrombie model yourself.
Heathcliff, from Wuthering Heights: I have to admit that there’s some kind of dangerous attraction surrounding Heathcliff. You know, he’s hot, misunderstood, deep, and passionate. I imagine him standing on the top of a cliff with the wind blowing through his long, dark hair. However, snub this man once and he runs away, gets rich, and comes back only to haunt your brother and kidnap your daughter.
Rhett Butler, from Gone With the Wind: He’s the epitome of attractiveness. He’s smooth with the ladies, dark, and cunning. However, he would soon tire of my mischievousness and equal cunning that when I truly did profess my love for him, he would completely stop giving a damn.
The Phantom of the Opera, from “duh”: This guy has mad talent. Any voice as beautiful as his would make me weak in the knees. However, I would be frightened of his voyeurism and stalker-ish behavior. And honestly, when people begin to die, that’s when you know you’ve made a mistake in choosing Mr. Right.
Lestat, from Anne Rice’s novels: Lestat. Lestaaaaaaat. The hot, dark, intelligent, artistic, brooding, misunderstood vampire. What could you NOT love about that? I mean, he’s got the perfect body and you’ll never have to be worried that he’ll get that ol’ beer belly with age. But. There’s a big huge BUTT. #1. He’s thirsting for human blood, and no he’s not a sissy vegetarian vampire. #2. Unless you’re willing to be changed in a vamp, be prepared to die. Not that I wouldn’t want to die, at some point LATER in my life, but definitely not while we’re in the middle of passionate love-making. Everyone knows that’s when vampires get reckless. Duh.
Edward Cullen, Twilight: He sparkles. Nuff said.
Claude Frollo, from The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Ok, why is that even a choice? Sure, he’s smart, but he’s balding prematurely and he practices weird voodoo. Plus, if you turn him down he’ll send you to jail to be tortured. And then hung. Woo!
James Steerforth, from David Copperfield: Well, he’s handsome, brilliant, charming, popular, rich, and slick. He’ll take you to travel, buy you bling, bling. He’s a high roller. AND A USER. What he’ll do is pretend to love you and with a promise of marriage take your womanhood, ruin your reputation, and leave you all alone to fend for yourself in a country whose language you DO NOT KNOW which would force you to rely on luck and the kindness of poor strangers to find your way back home. When you do come back home, you’d be to ashamed to return to your loved ones so you’d go and live in a whorehouse only to be found malnourished and weak by your loving uncle.
How can they compare to Mr. Darcy?
Mr. Darcy, the man who may be all too blunt, but is handsome, dark, intelligent. Who is truthful and kind. Who loves you, despite your constant spiteful remarks and blatant disregard of common courtesy. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, rather unfortunate name but nonetheless, he’d love you, propose to you in the rain and continue doting on you even when you refuse him and call him arrogant and cruel. Yes. Then he’ll continue helping your family out and in the end propose to you again in which situation you have to be either a heartless automaton or a retard to say no.
None of this was grammatically correct, but this post must go on, for the sake of lovely Mr. Darcy.