Dr Marry, by any other name, would be as sweet…

Over the course of writing this blog, a number of people have queried as to why I refer to my beloved spouse as Dr Marry. Let the querying be put to rest. Quite simply, I call him Dr Marry in honor of Jane Austen.

I present these examples of what I speak:

“Mr Bennet, Mr Bennet, good news! Netherfield Park is let at last!”

Mrs Bennet, Pride and Prejudice

“Anne found an unexpected interest here. She felt its application to herself, felt it in a nervous thrill all over her, and at the same moment that her eyes instinctively glanced towards the distant table, Captain Wentworth’s pen ceased to move, his head was raised, pausing, listening, and he turned round the next instant to give a look — one quick, conscious look at her.”

Persuasion

“You are mistaken, Mr Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.”

Elizabeth Bennett, Pride and Prejudice

‘“Mr Knightly”. You always called me Mr Knightly”; and from habit, it has not so very formal a sound. And yet it is formal…And cannot you call me “George” now?”

‘Impossible! I never can call you anything but “Mr Knightly”.’

Emma and Mr Knightly, Emma

So, there you have it. While there are about a million things I would fail at if I were to have a Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser-Craig na Dun-back in time-Outlander experience (treatment of women, eating meat, being subservient, using lye, the filth, the cold, no real medicine…), I do feel like the formality, as conceived of in the romance novels written at the time, would be right up my alley.

And that, gentle readers, is how Dr Andrew-John Michael Patrick Marry, simplified down to Andrew “Mazz” Marry, came to be called Dr Marry. My Dr Marry. ❤️

Not entirely related but perhaps of interest:

Dr Marry took me to Jane Austen’s final home in Chawton, England, about 35 miles from his mother’s house, when we were there in September 2017. This home was on an estate that one of her brother’s had inherited. Jane lived there with her mother and sister Cassandra (who also never married because her fiancé died of yellow fever in the Caribbean), but she ultimately died in Winchester, just a few miles away and is buried at Winchester Cathedral (I haven’t been there yet) in 1817 at just 41 years old. This beautiful home is now a wonderful museum with many of her original artifacts and furnishings, such as the writing table where she is reported to have written all six of her fully completed novels (I stood in front of it and cried) in place and beautiful reproductions of the wallpaper and other items. Across the road is Cassandra’s Cup, a charming tea shop named for her sister. I can’t tell you how much I loved the entire day. And then there’s Dr Marry’s willingness to dress up in Georgian clothes (featured image). I mean, doesn’t that really kind of say it all?

And finally, because I loved this documentary and adore historian Lucy Worsley, I present: