Welcome back, dear readers, to the world of “Bridgerton,” where the stakes appear higher than ever.
The second half of season three dropped Thursday on Netflix, following the first batch of episodes, which dropped on May 16 and left us with our beloved heroine, Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan), set up to be confronted with an impossible choice: being with the love of her life — Colin Bridgerton (Luke Newton), who closes the first four episodes with a proposal to her — or getting to do what she loves — writing and publishing Lady Whistledown, the town’s gossip pamphlet. The two paths appear mutually exclusive.
In “Bridgerton,” as in real life, the stakes for and cost of expressing authenticity for minorities and oppressed classes are so much higher than for those with more privilege.
In “Bridgerton,” as in real life, the stakes for and cost of expressing authenticity for minorities and oppressed classes are so much higher than for those with more privilege — specifically, cis, white men of means. The pressure to conform to social orthodoxies is considerably greater for characters with less power, as is the number of rules these characters are expected to conform to. And this tension is distilled in the choice Penelope will have to make.
“Bridgerton,” much like its central characters, has grown up over the course of three seasons. Season three offers its viewers more nuance and sophistication than its earlier ones. We see its two central characters, Penelope and Colin, wrestle with their feelings for one another — a throughline for all “Bridgerton” love stories, of course — but here, their struggle is just as much a battle with themselves as it is a quest to be together.
However, Colin’s journey is considerably less painful and difficult than that of Penelope or other characters, like Will Mondrich (Martins Imhangbe), a Black bartender who inherits a title from a distant relative and struggles to be accepted by the aristocracy (more on that later). For Colin, his battle involves ceasing his performance as a cad about town, a womanizer with no perceived emotional entanglements, in exchange for what he really wants: a meaningful partnership with his true love, Penelope.
Sure, on the one hand Colin’s journey is in and of itself a critique on oppressive social structures, specifically patriarchy, as much as the less privileged character’s stories are. “The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence toward women,” bell hooks writes in “The Will To Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love.” “Instead patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation, that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves.” True to hooks’ theory, we watch Colin feeling pressured by his peers to perform the role of the womanizer and abandon himself in the process.
On the other hand, it’s important to note that Colin’s big tradeoff was giving up sex with lots of hot women in exchange for being with the love of his life. And while he felt some pressure to perform the cad role in exchange for acceptance from “the lads,” his following his heart and getting engaged to Penelope also conforms to social orthodoxies of marriage and settling down. So he doesn’t have to give up a whole lot to live in alignment with what he wants.
“Bridgerton” writers tease out this theme of authenticity, repeatedly returning to it in the dialogue through the first four episodes. The way Colin engages with this theme also points us to how it intersects with privilege and power. He lacks self-reflexiveness as he pompously and self-righteously announces to a group of fawning ladies, “Courage is within us all. As long as we are honest with ourselves and about our feelings, it is possible to do anything.” Colin, here, is blithely unaware of the privilege such a statement — and world view — contains.
The stakes for Penelope, on the other hand, are higher at every turn. Unlike Colin, she is not forced to give up one way of life she does not enjoy in exchange for one she does. Rather, she will be forced to choose between two paths she loves. And these two things cut to the core of what makes her (and all of us) feel alive: committing to the act of creation, with Lady Whisteldown, versus the act of love. Even in the final steamy carriage scene between Colin and Penelope, Penelope expresses concern and fear at the culmination of their ride regarding whether or not anyone noticed them. For Colin, the act of passion, and their uniting, is exclusively one of fulfillment. For Penelope, it comes with a possibility of profound loss and could literally ruin her, and her family. The degree to which we must sacrifice ourselves of course corresponds to how much privilege we have. Mondrich embodies a similar struggle. He is increasingly compelled by members of the aristocracy to give up his bar, which has become his vocation, in exchange for acceptance into the world of his aristocratic peers, after he inherits his title. The world of “Bridgerton” and its replicative oppressive class structures (racialized as they are) try to demand of Mondrich that he give up doing what he loves in exchange for acceptance and conformity, a similar choice to the one Penelope is confronted with. Social structures and ideologies, like capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy demand we all, to some degree, stifle our true nature in exchange for conformity. The degree to which we must sacrifice ourselves of course corresponds to how much privilege we have. “Bridgerton’s” characters’ pushing for greater authenticity, despite high stakes, despite the discomfort, embody a critique of this collective and insidious trade-off. The arc of Penelope — from a character who is often sidelined and overlooked into a sexy heroine as she moves closer toward her true self — is also a powerful reminder to viewers that few things are sexier than moving toward the things that make us feel alive and honoring who we are. But we can’t ignore that the price we must pay for this is far greater for some than others.
Noor Noman is a writer focused on culture, race and LGBTQ issues. 
