Sense and Sensibility

“The more I know of the world, the more am I convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much! He must have all Edward’s virtues, and his person and manners must ornament his goodness with every possible charm.”

Marianne’s exclamation shows her lofty, romantic ideals. She does not merely require a man of good character like her sister’s choice Edward, but someone good-looking, charming and with a decisive personality. The word “ornament” implies an addition to Marianne, but it also has connotations of a mesmerizing distraction that might distract her from the real substance of a man’s character. Her deception by charm will become evident when she falls under Willoughby’s spell. The profession of her never meeting a man who will impress her will become ironic in the course of the novel when she falls in love with Willoughby and then Colonel Brandon.

“I meant no offence to you, by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my own feelings. Believe them to be stronger than I have declared; believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the suspicion—the hope of his affection for me may warrant, without imprudence or folly. But farther than this you must not believe. I am by no means assured of his regard for me.”

This passage reveals Elinor’s approach to feelings and romance. The idea of speaking “in so quiet a way” aligns Elinor with the qualities of reserve and understatement. She does not trust that words can exactly express feelings, and so wishes to say less than what she feels. However, she does not let herself get carried away, calibrating what she ought to feel according to what he has expressed for her.

“The horses which were left her by her husband had been sold soon after his death, and an opportunity now of disposing of her carriage, she agreed to sell that likewise at the earnest advice of her eldest daughter. For the comfort of her children, had she consulted only her own wishes, she would have kept it; but the discretion of Elinor prevailed.”

This passage implies that the lifestyle and social status of Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters is about to change on their quitting Norland Park. Their lack of carriage, the only respectable way for middle-class women to travel long distances, means that they will be stuck at Barton Cottage and have a very limited social life. While Mrs. Dashwood’s inclination to keep the carriage is part of her wish to maintain the illusion that their status has not significantly altered, pragmatic Elinor advocates a less lavish lifestyle over going into debt. Her influence over her mother indicates a wisdom and strength of character beyond her years.

“A view of Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness. It was a pleasant fertile spot, well wooded, and rich in pasture. After winding along it for more than a mile, they reached their own house. A small green court was the whole of its demesne in front; and a neat wicket gate admitted them into it.”

Although leaving Norland has been painful, the first sighting of Barton Valley and their cottage proves auspicious. The abundance of fertile greens indicates a springtime sense of promise, despite the social downgrade. The neatness of the wicket gate implies that the house is a safe, contained place for this next phase of their lives.

“His pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, was estimable when contrasted against the horrible insensibility of the others; and she was reasonable enough to allow that a man of five and thirty might well have outlived all acuteness of feeling and every exquisite power of enjoyment. She was perfectly disposed to make every allowance for the colonel’s advanced state of life which humanity required.”

This passage shows how Marianne initially views her future husband, who is more than twice her age. She is not merely unattracted to him but regards him as being of a geriatric generation. While he appreciates music like her, and unlike many of the others present, she thinks that his age must make their pleasure in music different. Her refusal to be in sympathy with the colonel indicates her rejection of him as a suitor.

“Marianne herself had seen less of his person than the rest, for the confusion which crimsoned over her face, on his lifting her up, had robbed her of the power of regarding him after their entering the house. But she had seen enough of him to join in all the admiration of the others, and with an energy which always adorned her praise. His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn for the hero of a favorite story; and his carrying her into the house with so little previous formality, there was a rapidity of thought which particularly recommended the action to her.”

Marianne and Willoughby are thrown together in a manner more intimate than would normally be permitted by polite society when he lifts and carries her to rescue her. Their closeness causes Marianne to flush in confusion and barely be able to look at him, especially because she is attracted to him and the decisive romantic gesture of his carrying her appeals to her imagination. It is something out of a romantic story and Marianne sees herself as the heroine.

“Her favorite authors were brought forward and dwelt upon with so rapturous a delight, that any young man of five and twenty must have been insensible indeed, not to become an immediate convert to the excellence of such works, however disregarded before. Their taste was strikingly alike. The same books, the same passages were idolized by each—or if any difference appeared, any objection arose, it lasted no longer than till the force of her arguments and the brightness of her eyes could be displayed.”

While Marianne is under the impression that her and Willoughby’s taste “was strikingly alike,” the narration informs us that Willoughby is at every turn informed by Marianne. Subtle irony is employed when the narrator explains that Willoughby is an “immediate convert” to works that he has “disregarded before” Marianne’s persuasion. The reader can see how easy it is for Marianne to guide her suitor recognize his insincerity, as he does not give his real opinion, but echoes her own. This lack of integrity is a warning sign, indicating that their relationship will not go well.

“Elinor could not be surprised at their attachment. She only wished that it were less openly shewn; and once or twice did venture to suggest the propriety of some self-command to Marianne. But Marianne abhorred all concealment where no real disgrace could attend unreserve; and to aim at the restraint of sentiments which were not in themselves illaudable, appeared to her not merely an unnecessary effort, but a disgraceful subjection of reason to common-place and mistaken notions.”

While Elinor has her eye on the requirements and expectations of the social world, Marianne disdains the insincerity it promotes. She views nothing objectionable in her feelings towards Willoughby and so sees no reason to rein them in. She thus goes by her own compass of romantic sensibility, as suggested to her by her favorite books.

“I have not wanted syllables where actions have spoken so plainly. Has not his behavior to Marianne and to all of us, for at least the last fortnight, declared that he loved and considered her as his future wife, and that he felt for us the attachment of the nearest relation? Have we not perfectly understood each other?”

Mrs. Dashwood is content to go by her interpretation of Willoughby’s actions in divining that he and Marianne are engaged. She professes that the verbal evidence of an engagement, sought by more rational Elinor, is unnecessary. While Mrs. Dashwood’s credulity is naïve, it is also the result of never having before encountered a person so likely to deceive as Willoughby.

“Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby. She would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning, had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than when she lay down in it.”

This passage satirizes Marianne’s ideas of how a romantic heroine whose lover has just gone away should behave. It implies ironically that Marianne’s opinion of herself would sink if she were able to sleep after such amorous affliction. The narration draws attention to the performed nature of a romantic heroine’s behavior, alerting the reader to its departure from real feeling.

“Admiration of landscape scenery is become a mere jargon. Every body pretends to feel and tries to describe with the taste and elegance of him who first defined what picturesque beauty was. I detest jargon of every kind, and sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in but what was worn and hackneyed out of all sense and meaning.”

Marianne comments on the fashion for picturesque views and high-minded professions of feeling on observing them. Marianne is conscious of falling into hackneyed stereotype and decides to keep her views on nature to herself. On a further level, her sentiments reflect those of Austen, who unlike her contemporaries offers little physical description, preferring to concentrate on action and dialogue.

“What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment, that would have been as painful as it was strong, had not an immediate disbelief of the assertion attended it. She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement, unable to divine the reason of object of such a declaration; and though her complexion varied, she stood firm in incredulity, and felt in no danger of an hysterical fit or swoon.”

Although Elinor receives the shocking and disappointing news that Edward is secretly engaged to Lucy, her reactions are naturalistic rather than dramatic. She does not lose consciousness in the manner expected of delicate young ladies, but instead stands “firm in her incredulity.” This indicates that her self-possession never leaves her. Still, the symptoms of changing color and inability to speak betray real feeling.

“We have neither of us anything to tell; you because you do not communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing.”

Marianne dodges Elinor’s probing inquiry as to whether she and Willoughby are engaged with an accusation of Elinor’s own secrecy. She claims candor, that her open sensibility conceals nothing, at the same time accusing Elinor of unsisterly reserve towards her. The silence between the sisters indicates a rift in their relationship.

“At that moment she first perceived him, and her whole countenance glowing with sudden delight, she would have moved towards him instantly, had not her sister caught hold of her.”

Elinor and Marianne become the personification of sense and sensibility. Marianne, who sees Willoughby and instinctively moves towards him, embodies unguarded sensibility, while Elinor, who catches hold of her and stops her from making a spectacle of her feelings, represents sense. While sense is not a native quality for Marianne, her sister who more than embodies that trait must step in.

“Elinor drew near, but without saying a word; and seating herself on the bed, took her hand, kissed her affectionately several times, and then gave way to a burst of tears, which at first was scarcely less violent than Marianne’s. The latter, though unable to speak, seemed to feel all the tenderness of this behavior, and after some time thus spent in joint affliction, she put all the letters into Elinor’s hands; and then covering her face with her handkerchief, almost screamed with agony.”

This is a rare moment where Elinor empathizes with Marianne by directly embodying her grief. The burst of tears has the violence of Marianne’s own expressions of emotion. The sharing of the letters symbolizes Marianne’s comfort with Elinor’s witnessing of her vulnerability. The scream of agony at the end of this passage conveys the painful distress that Willoughby has caused Marianne.

“His character is now before you; expensive, dissipated, and worse than both. Knowing all this, as I have known it many weeks, guess what I must have felt on seeing your sister as fond of him as ever, and on being assured that she was to marry him: guess what I must have felt for all your sakes.”

As soon as he learns that Willoughby is engaged to a woman other than Marianne, Colonel Brandon unveils the truth of his character to Elinor. Willoughby is governed by excessive appetites and whims, but devoid of either sense or feeling. The colonel’s real pain at seeing Marianne attached to Willoughby indicates that he cares for her well-being and that of her family. His attraction to her, unlike Willoughby’s, is unselfish.

“Marianne had now been brought by degrees, so much into the habit of going out every day, that it was become a matter of indifference to her, whether she went or not: and she prepared quietly and mechanically for every evening’s engagement, though with expecting the smallest amusement from any, and very often without knowing, till the last moment, where it was to take her.”

While Marianne has recovered from the first shock of Willoughby’s treachery, she still is far from reclaiming her old zest for life. Her indifference to the social events she attends is related in the mechanical preparations she makes for them. She is so distracted by her own thoughts of Willoughby and the past, that she has little scope for directing her present life and merely goes through the motions directed by others. This leads the reader to expect a final destructive phase before her recovery.

“For four months, Marianne, I have had all this hanging on my mind, without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature; knowing that it would make you and my mother most unhappy whenever it were explained to you, yet unable to prepare you for it in the least.”

While Elinor expects that Marianne will accuse her of having shallow feelings for Edward or an unnatural amount of self-control in keeping Lucy’s secret, she divulges the truth of her pain. The imagery of something “hanging on my mind” indicates the burden of Lucy’s secret, while the fact of being unable to share the burden is simply but vividly communicated. Elinor’s magnanimity is shown in her consideration of her mother and sister’s feelings when she keeps the news from them, all the while suffering from the knowledge that they must one day find out.

“I happened to drop in for ten minutes; and I saw quite enough of her. The merest awkward country girl, without style, without elegance, and almost without beauty.—I remember her perfectly. Just the kind of girl I suppose likely to captivate poor Edward.”

Robert Ferrars’ exaggerated depiction of his indifference to Lucy Steele will prove ironic since he will soon replace Edward as her suitor. This reveals the folly and inconsistency in his character. This passage also reveals evidence of Robert looking closely at Lucy. The idea that she is “almost” but not completely without beauty, and his perfect memory of her are important, as they indicate his attraction to her.

“Before she had been five minutes between its walls […] she quitted it again, stealing away through the winding shrubberies, now just beginning to be in beauty, to gain a distant eminence; where, from its Grecian temple, her eye, wandering over a wide tract of country to the south-east, could fondly rest on the farthest ridge of hills in the horizon, and fancy that from their summits Combe Magna might be seen.”

Marianne’s predilections for solitary walks in the direction of Willoughby’s home indicate her lingering affection for him. It is significant that she departs from society to engage in such a pursuit, as it becomes the private vestige of a passion that others think she should have recovered from. The winding nature of the shrubbery and the strain to see the far ridge of hills indicate the distance she needs to traverse to access Willoughby, who is now a figment of her imagination. Marianne’s unwillingness to move on makes the sickness that afflicts her seem inevitable.

“She felt that his influence over her mind was heightened by circumstances which ought not in reason to have weight; by that person of uncommon attraction, that open, affectionate, and lively manner which it was no merit to possess; and by that still ardent love for Marianne, which it was not even innocent to indulge. But she felt that it was so, long, long before she could feel his influence less.”

Despite her knowledge of Willoughby’s wickedness, Elinor is profoundly moved by his story and his continued affection for her sister. She models the reader’s reaction to this appealing but immoral young man and anticipates her own sister’s feelings. She feels that only time and distance will make him a distant figure for Marianne. The shadow of Willoughby’s influence will also be felt in Elinor’s initial reluctance to accept Colonel Brandon as a replacement suitor for Marianne.

“I saw in my own behavior, since the beginning of our acquaintance with him last autumn, nothing but a series of imprudence towards myself, and want of kindness to others. I saw that my own feelings had prepared my sufferings, and that my want of fortitude under them had almost led me to the grave […] Had I died,—it would have been self-destruction.”

Marianne’s illness has allowed her to reflect that ever since the attachment of her feelings to Willoughby, she has become unfeeling toward everyone else. She sees her fixation as directly responsible for the illness that nearly led to her death, as continual indulgence in reminiscences and gloomy reflections led her to neglect her health. She therefore sees herself as the author of her own woes and will subsequently engage in the improvement of her character as she goes from victim to someone with more agency.

“Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw—or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate.”

This passage shows both reserved, rational Elinor and Edward being overcome by their feelings. On learning that Lucy has married Robert and that Edward is free, Elinor bursts into spontaneous tears. This gesture, of the genre of swoons she normally deplores, shows her genuine emotion, and it means more because it happens less frequently for her. Meanwhile, the density of Edward’s reverie indicates that he is equally enthralled by hearing Elinor’s delight.