Ghent 303-304).
In other words, if we limit our expectations, then Austen's novel will not let us down. Van Ghent is saying that we should not expect Austen to deal with death, sex, hunger, war, guilt or God. And, again, this is a legitimate argument---except for the fact that Austen's talent is so great, and the fact that she has squandered that talent writing about these very privileged, insulated, socially and politically apathetic, and superficial characters.
After all, they care about little but money and marriage. The heart and soul of the book is the effort to marry five daughters to wealthy men. Her defenders might be able to rationalize away the shortcomings of the novel, but Austen herself is most aware of them, and most willing to enunciate them in a letter:
The work is rather too light, and bright, and sparkling; it wants shade; it wants to be stretched out here and there with a long chapter of sense; . . . of solemn specious nonsense, about something unconnected with the story; an essay on writing, a critique on Walter Scott, or the history of Buonaparte (Austen 266).
Of course, Austen is being facetious with her suggestions, but her facetiousness cannot hide the fact that the novel is too light and bright and sparkling. Clearly, Austen has written the book she wanted to write. This is the world she knew, and these are the people she knew, and these were her interests. The fact that she knew the book was too light, admitted it and obviously regretted it, and then made absurd suggestions to add heft to the book, merely proves that she did the best she could do and was not entirely satisfied with the significance of the result.
Donald Gray notes that some critics, faced with the question of how her novel, limited in setting, character and plot, could have any significance, answer:
They don't mean anything important, and that is precisely their appeal; Austen's novels are well-composed and satisfying fantas...