Chapters 1-5
The opening pages of
Sense and Sensibility are concerned with the
laws of inheritance and succession that govern the fate of the Dashwood family
property. According to the laws of male primogeniture effective in the
mid-nineteenth century, estates went to the closest male descendant of the
original owner. Since Old Mr. Dashwood has no sons, his estate is bequeathed to
his nephew, Henry Dashwood. Henry, in turn, leaves the estate to his eldest
son, John. However, as Austen notes, Henry Dashwood's money was far more vital
to his daughters than to his son, because John was already provided for both by
his mother's fortune--which he inherited as eldest son--and by the money he
received by marrying his own wife. (In general, a man inherited all of his
wife's money upon marriage, though the wife usually entered into the marriage
with a "settlement," a legal document ensuring that some of her
property would revert to her or her children following her husband's death.) In
this case, the money that Mr. Henry Dashwood's late first wife brought to the
marriage was settled on their son John, and therefore could not be used to help
his second wife or his daughters by that second wife. Since Henry's second wife
and their three daughters could not inherit any of the money from that first
marriage, they are in much greater need of the money from Old Mr. Dashwood's
estate.
The opening discussion of money and marriage immediately establishes the
important role that ordinary economic concerns will play in Austen's novel.
Unlike the authors of Gothic and sentimental novels fashionable in her day,
Austen refuses to romanticize; she recognizes that material realities constrain
love and marriage. Nonetheless, she allows some of this sentimentality to seep
into the novel, and the tension between reasonable economic concerns and overly
romantic dreaming will constitute an important theme in the novel.
Indeed, this tension is already apparent in the characters of Elinor and
Marianne, between the older sister's "sense" and the younger sister's
"sensibility," the duality which the novel's title refers to. Elinor,
age nineteen, is described as having a "strength of understanding"
and "coolness of judgment", as well as the ability to govern and
control her feelings. She modestly states that she "greatly esteems"
Edward Ferrars, a remark typical of her rational, sensible attitude. In
contrast, her younger sister Marianne, who more closely resembles their mother,
is "everything but prudent." She longs for a man with taste, grace,
spirit, and fire in his eyes, and considers her sister cold-hearted in her calm
and tempered regard for Edward Ferrars. Their younger sister Margaret, age
thirteen, also shares Marianne's excessive romanticism. Elinor thus stands out
in her family as the only sensible and rational woman.
The sensibility of Marianne and Mrs. Dashwood manifests itself in their
excessive mourning over the deaths of the two men, in contrast to Elinor's more
silent grief. Not only are they overcome by sadness at the loss of first Old
Mr. Dashwood and then Henry, but they then carry on dramatically about having
to leave Norland and move to the smaller cottage. Before departing, Marianne
wanders the grounds of Norland uttering a histrionic elegy: "Dear, dear
Norland... Oh! happy house... And you, ye well-known trees!" Elinor,
however, experiences a far more subdued depression--though she is leaving
behind not just her home but also a man she has grown to deeply care for and
admire.
The early chapters also display the wry irony for which Austen is so famous
as a novelist. She is unsparingly critical of the characters she dislikes, but
conveys her criticism with a pointed subtlety, which makes it all the more
forceful. For example, in the opening chapter, Austen sketches the character of
John Dashwood in three masterful sentences, achieving a biting acerbity: the
author begins elliptically with a double negative, only slyly to refute it:
"He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold-hearted
and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed..." She then ends the paragraph
by explicitly skewering both John and his wife: "Mrs. John Dashwood was a
strong caricature of himself; more narrow-minded and selfish." Austen thus
relies on understatement and irony to reveal her feelings towards her more
disagreeable characters.
Chapters 6-10
Clearly evident in these chapters are Austen's satiric voice and her keen
understanding of human nature, particularly when she comments on the role of
Lady Middleton's son as a conversation piece between the Dashwoods and the
Middletons. She writes that:
Conversation... [was not lacking], for Sir John
was very chatty, and Lady Middleton had taken the wise precaution of bringing
with her their eldest child, a fine little boy about six years old; by which
means there was one subject always to be recurred to by the ladies in case of
extremity, for they had to enquire his name and age, admire his beauty, and ask
him questions which his mother answered for him... On every formal visit a
child ought to be of the party, by way of provision for discourse. In the
present case it took up ten minutes to determine whether the boy were most like
his father or mother, and in what particular he resembled either, for of course
every body differed, and every body was astonished at the opinion of the
others.
Here, Austen's use of the overarching, gnomic statements establishes a
piercing irony. She writes that on every formal visit a child ought to be of
the party, but knows, of course, that no one really cares which parent a child
more closely resembles; Austen mocks all the ludicrous and rather irrelevant
conversations devoted to this question.
Austen explains that Sir John tried to invite other guests to his home to
greet the Dashwoods, but it was moonlight so everyone was already engaged.
(Since moonlight made it easier to travel at night, social events were
frequently scheduled on days around a full moon.) During this busy social
period, Sir John was unable to invite any guests beyond his mother-in-law and
his good friend Brandon; this is another subtle way of telling the reader that
this family is not the most interesting or agreeable company.
Austen's opinion of her characters nearly always coincides with that of her
heroine, Elinor Dashwood. Like the omniscient Austen, Elinor can appreciate the
nobility of Colonel Brandon's gravity and reserve. Unlike Marianne, appearances
do not dazzle the oldest sister: even though Willoughby at first seems like a
considerate and kind gentleman, she immediately detects and becomes suspicious
of his impulsivity and lack of prudence. In these chapters, as well as
throughout the book, one can ascertain Austen's opinions of her characters by examining
those of Elinor Dashwood.
As Elinor comes to appreciate Colonel Brandon as a man of good sense,
Willoughby is increasingly characterized by excessive sensibility. Brandon,
like herself, is well-read and wise, whereas Willoughby is overly romantic and
headstrong like Marianne. Ironically, both of these men are attracted to
Marianne, though Willoughby has much more in common with her. Marianne's own
preference for Willoughby, and its disastrous consequences, reveal the danger
of excessive sensibility and the importance of looking beyond appearances when
judging human character.
Chapters 11-15
Elinor and Colonel Brandon's discussion of "second attachments" is
ironic in light of the eventual developments of the novel, for nearly every
character except Elinor will ultimately fall in love more than once: Marianne
has fallen for John Willoughby but will grow to love the more sensible and
constant Colonel; the Colonel loves Marianne because, as we will soon learn,
she reminds him of a woman he loved before; Edward Ferrars will marry Elinor
only after a long engagement to Lucy Steele; John Willoughby professes his
devotion to Marianne but then marries the wealthy Miss Sophia Grey; and even
Mr. Henry Dashwood had two wives. In her discussion with the Colonel, Elinor
seems to have no problem with second attachments, yet it is only she who
marries the very first man she knows and loves.
When Marianne uses the term "attachment," she is referring to the
deeply individualized, subjective feeling of falling in love, a term closely
linked to the novel's notion of "sensibility." The counterpart of
this term is "connection," which refers to a
public bond that
also entails an emotional "attachment," and is closely linked to the
notion of "sense." Marianne's relationship with Willoughby is
described as an "attachment," whereas, when Elinor speaks of her
relationship to Edward, she points out the lack of any formal
"connection" between them.
As in all of Austen's novels, marriage here is closely bound up with
financial considerations. When reflecting on her sister's relationship with
Willoughby, Elinor realizes that "marriage might not be immediately in
[the pair's] power." This preoccupation with money in relation to marriage
was highly warranted in Austen's day; marriage was for life, and insurance and
social security did not exist; a couple needed a guaranteed source of income
before they could settle down together. Jane Austen understood this problem
personally. Her older sister Cassandra's engagement stretched on for several
years because the marriage was postponed for lack of money.
Although Willoughby ultimately marries for money, he seems oblivious to all
practical concerns in the early days of his relationship with Marianne. He
offers her the gift of a horse even though, as Elinor reminds her sister, there
is no way the Dashwoods can afford its upkeep. The horse is named Queen Mab, a
reference to the fanciful "fairies' midwife" from
Romeo and Juliet
(Act I Scene 4), who supposedly rides her chariot across lovers' brains to
create their magical dreams. These dreams, however, according to Shakespeare's
Mercutio, are "begot of nothing but fantasy" and are "more
inconstant than the wind," just as Marianne's dream of owning the horse
can never come true and her Willoughby will prove a mercurial and inconstant
lover. Given Willoughby's unfaithfulness, it is ironic that he insists that
Mrs. Dashwood promise never to alter a single stone in Barton Cottage; a man
who abandons one lover for another has hardly the right to demand that a
building remain unchanged.
These chapters serve as a lens through which to study one of the most
important themes in the novel, the role of appearances in the assessment and
judgment of character. Elinor consistently and fiercely refrains from judging
other characters on the basis of appearances alone. Although Mrs. Jennings
claims early on that Colonel Brandon is interested in Marianne, Elinor is not
convinced of this fact until Brandon approaches her directly to discuss
Marianne's romantic proclivities. Similarly, although Mrs. Dashwood and
Margaret conclude that Marianne and Willoughby are engaged, Elinor remains
skeptical so long as the two refrain from formally announcing their engagement.
Her discussion with her mother about Marianne's relationship to Willoughby in
Chapter 15 reveals that while Mrs. Dashwood readily bases her faith on looks
and gestures, Elinor requires that feelings be explicitly articulated. Mrs.
Dashwood draws conclusions based on appearances alone, while Elinor suspends
judgment until these appearances are confirmed by words. This is yet another
example of the dichotomy in the novel's title.
Chapters 16-19
At the beginning of the chapter, Marianne behaves as she believes a
disappointed lover ought to act. She cultivates her own grief by reading only
what she and Willoughby read together and by singing only their songs at the
piano. She makes sure that she does not sleep at all on the first night after
his departure and draws her mother and sister into her own gloom. Marianne makes
herself and those around her as miserable as possible, unlike Elinor, who
conceals her grief from her family; when she believes Edward no longer cares
for her, she sits alone at her drawing table in silent thought.
One of the governing themes of these chapters is the value of privacy, but
also the confusions that result from secrecy and concealment. Since Marianne
conceals any sort of understanding that may exist between herself and
Willoughby about their status as a couple, Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor can only
speculate about their status based on her misery and her remark to Mrs.
Jennings about his expected return in a few weeks. Likewise, Elinor does not
greet Edward with the warm and open regard of a lover but instead awaits his
reactio; but as he is not forthcoming with his own emotions, this tactic leaves
her to wonder if his feelings have changed. Marianne finds Edward's reserve
puzzling as well.
In a further instance of willful concealment, Edward clearly dissembles when
he claims that the lock of hair in his ring once belonged to his sister, an
echo of Margaret's eager whisper to Elinor that she saw Willoughby remove a
lock of Marianne's hair. This preoccupation with secrets is evident also in the
behavior of the Palmers: Mrs. Jennings leans towards Elinor and speaks in a low
voice to inform her that Mrs. Palmer is pregnant, and Mr. Palmer hides his face
behind a newspaper for the duration of their visit. Everyone in these chapters
seems bent on concealing their own situation from the eyes of others; the
ensuing misunderstandings and ambiguities fuel the plot the novel.
The earlier Shakespearean reference to Queen Mab receives a second mention
when the Dashwood sisters see a man approaching on horseback during their walk,
and Marianne is convinced that it must be her beloved Willoughby. "Queen
Mab" was the name of the horse that Willoughby was to give her, yet the
horse was never more than a dream, for the Dashwoods could not afford such a
gift. In this chapter, Marianne's identification of the horse's rider proves to
be yet another vain fantasy like Queen Mab's dreams, for it is not Willoughby
but Edward Ferrars who rides up to greet them.
When Edward first rides up to the Dashwood sisters, he comments on the dirty
lanes he had to traverse to reach Barton Cottage. Roads are essential to the
action of the novel because they facilitate the connections among characters.
Austen structures the novel according to journeys, including the Dashwoods'
journey from Norland to Barton, Willoughby's and Edward's journeys to Barton,
and Elinor and Marianne's journey to London with Mrs. Jennings. Although Mrs.
Dashwood sells their carriage when they leave Norland, the Dashwood sisters are
still able to maintain a lively social life because of the journeys that
Brandon, Willoughby, Edward, the Palmers, and the Steeles undertake to visit
Barton. This prevalence of journeys is significant: in Austen's day, improved
roads linked parishes and towns to one another and to the nexus of all
connections, London. Austen was thus highly aware of the changes roads could
bring to people's lives. In a novel built around attachments and connections,
dirty lanes are a feature of the landscape as well as a plot device.
Chapters 20-22
In contrast to the Dashwood sisters, the Steeles lack education, refinement,
and integrity. Anne Steele is nearly thirty, plain-looking, and rather
simple-minded, whereas the Dashwood girls are in their late teens, beautiful,
and insightful. Twenty-three-year-old Lucy Steele, although shrewd, smart, and
pretty, lacks any real elegance and grace and never received the benefits of a
good education. In their shameless obsequiousness toward Lady Middleton, the
Steele sisters provide a definite contrast with the polite yet always honest
Dashwood girls.
When Elinor comments on Lucy's lack of education, she is not referring to
formal education in "public" schools such as Eton or universities
such as Oxford; these were reserved solely for genteel men. In Austen's day,
few people perceived the need for higher education for women. Austen herself
studied briefly under the private tutelage of a Mrs. Cawley, the sister of one
of her uncles, and spent a short period of time at a boarding school in
Reading; this was her only education outside of her family. Within her family,
however, she studied drawing, painting, and piano. Women of the genteel classes
were expected to acquire these skills, or "accomplishments." In this
novel, Elinor is accomplished in drawing while Marianne is an accomplished
pianist. But the Steeles have no such skills to recommend them. Since the main
purpose of these accomplishments was to help a woman acquire a husband, Elinor
had even further reason to be surprised when the unaccomplished Lucy Steele
announced her secret engagement to Edward Ferrars.
Austen ends Part I of the novel with Elinor's disappointment and
astonishment upon learning of Lucy's secret engagement to Edward. Although this
chapter (22) links directly to the next (23), Austen interrupts the plot at
this point to focus on her central character. Lucy's revelation is a critical
turning point in Elinor's thinking even if not in the development of the story
because the eldest Miss Dashwood's slim hopes of eventually marrying Edward are
now completely dashed. Only in the next chapter will she begin to digest this
news with her characteristic sense and rationality: she reasons that Edward's
engagement to Lucy must have been the product of a youthful infatuation rather
than a lasting, genuine affection.
Chapters 23-27
Even when Lucy Steele is revealing her greatest secret to Elinor, she must
do so in hushed tones and with an atmosphere of concealment. As the rest of the
dinner party plays cards, Lucy whispers to Elinor the story of her long and
secret engagement to Edward. Although Lucy describes the history of their
relationship accurately, her claims about Edward's steadfast faithfulness and
their mutual affection are as fabricated as the basket in her hands; Edward, as
Elinor assures herself, has eyes for her alone.
Marianne's name suits her well: like the Mariana of Shakespeare's
Measure for Measure
, who waits by the moated grange for her lover, Austen's heroine pines away
for Willoughby and awaits his visit from the moment she first arrives in town
with Mrs. Jennings and Elinor. Marianne's name is also a mirror image of
Annamaria, Lady Middleton's spoiled young daughter, who will be
"miserable" if her filigree basket is not completed before she goes
to bed. By this close kinship of names, Austen suggests that Marianne's
excessive sensibility and romanticism resembles the eagerness and impatience of
a spoiled little girl.
Willoughby does not appear in any of these chapters, yet he figures
prominently in the thoughts of those characters who do. Mrs. Jennings implies
that Marianne would welcome the opportunity to travel to town with her in the
hope of seeing Willoughby, and Marianne is enthusiastic about the prospect for
this very reason. When they arrive in town, she is increasingly wretched with
each passing day that he does not visit. Elinor, too, thinks of Willoughby at
length because she is concerned about her sister's welfare. Even Colonel
Brandon calls on Elinor in order to discuss Marianne's relationship with
Willoughby and to inform Elinor that everyone in town is discussing their
engagement. These frequent references to Willoughby heighten our anxiety
concerning the true nature of his commitment to Marianne, and enable us as
readers to experience some of Marianne's longing for that which is never
present.
Though Willoughby does not appear, Marianne mistakes Colonel Brandon for him
when the latter comes to visit the Dashwood sisters in London. This is one of
many suggestions in the novel that people may be substituted for one another:
Marianne had earlier mistaken Edward Ferrars on horseback for John Willoughby;
Elinor mistakes Lucy's hair for her own in Edward's ring; and Elinor initially
mistakes Robert for Edward as the object of Lucy's affections. These scenes in
which some characters fail to recognize others provide subtext for a novel in
which one young woman (Marianne) thinks she is in love with one man but ends up
loving someone else, and another young woman (Lucy) becomes engaged to one
brother but then decides to marry the other.
Chapters 28-32
Although Austen makes reference throughout the novel to letters sent from
one character to another, Chapter 29 is exceptional because it includes the
full text of four letters sent between Willoughby and Marianne. Chapter 29 perhaps
most closely resembles Austen's original 1795 manuscript for the book, which
was conceived as an epistolary novel entitled
Elinor and Marianne. It
wasn't until at least four years later that Austen rewrote these letters with
narration.
Elinor feels that Willoughby's letter proclaims him to be "deep in
hardened villainy." Indeed, Willoughby is only one in a long line of
Austen's male villains, including George Wickham (of
Pride and Prejudice ),
Henry Crawford (of
Mansfield
Park , and Frank Churchill (of
Emma ). All of Austen's
villains are tricksters, who initially seem charming, attractive, and witty.
Some, like Frank Churchill, turn out to be fibbers and play-actors while
others, like George Wickham, are downright frauds. However, Willoughby is both:
he is a glamorous seducer as well as a corrupt philanderer. He is not just
impetuous but also callous; he is not just insensitive but also vicious. As a
result, it is not difficult to see how he can capture Marianne's heart without
ever fully winning Elinor's confidence.
The contrast between Elinor and Marianne is perhaps made most explicit in
their reactions to their lovers' seemingly insensitive treatment. Whereas
Elinor is relieved that she does not have to share Lucy's news about Edward
with her mother and sister, Marianne insists through her grief that "I
care not who knows that I am wretched." Her attempt to claim intimacy with
Willoughby at the party dramatizes the dangers of showing one's feelings
publicly and contrasts strikingly with Elinor's more cautious restraint.
Colonel Brandon's own personal story of his relationship with Eliza Williams
and her daughter elaborately echoes Marianne's relationship with Willoughby.
The details of Brandon's story parallel all of the plots of the novel,
including that of the insensitive parent's commitment to primogeniture, of
brothers who cannot see eye-to-eye, and of women whose hearts are broken by the
men they love. However, Brandon's dramatic story also includes divorce,
seduction, illegitimate birth, and even a duel, all of which are extreme
consequences of the emotions and situations that Marianne Dashwood must
confront. Though Brandon comments that he is a "very awkward
narrator," his story-within-a-story actually sheds light on many of the
most important themes of the novel.
Chapters 33-36
Austen's biting wit is quite evident here: as the omniscient narrator, she
makes direct comments about her characters, and, within the story, she has some
of her characters commment on other, less favorable figures. The first, more
direct display of her wit is exemplified by her comments about the dinner
party, hosted by Mr. and Mrs. John Dashwood:
John Dashwood had not much to say for himself
that was worth hearing, and his wife still less. But there was no peculiar
disgrace in this, for it was very much the case with the chief of their
visitors, who almost all laboured under one or other of these disqualifications
for being agreeable: want of sense, either natural or improved; want of
elegance, want of spirits, or want of temper.
She passes judgment on her characters by pretending to cast their most negative
attributes in a positive light: John Dashwood has nothing to say for himself,
but there is "no particular disgrace" in this because his company is
just as insipid as he. Usually, these acerbic observations are presented
through Elinor's eyes, but here Austen, at her cruelest, satirizes her
characters directly.
The more indirect display of Austen's wit is exemplified by the personality
and behavior of Mr. Palmer. Just after the lengthy and elaborate debate between
doting mothers about the relative heights of their children, Austen informs her
readers that Mr. Palmer, the father of a newborn son, did not find his child to
be different from any other newborn infant, "nor could he [Mr. Palmer]
even be brought to acknowledge the simple proposition of its being the finest
child in the world." Rather than informing her readers directly that Fanny
Dashwood and Lady Middleton are irrational in their motherly affections, she
accomplishes this through the character of Mr. Palmer, whose objectivity and
indifference enable her to indirectly mock the mothers' excessive
sentimentality.
From Fanny's dinner party to Mrs. Dennison's musical party, these chapters
underscore the extent to which a seemingly endless series of invitations
governs the lives of the women in Austen's novel. The Dashwood women travel to
Barton at the invitation of Sir John; Elinor and Marianne travel to London at
the invitation of Mrs. Jennings; Marianne visits Willoughby's estate at
Allenham at his invitation. Indeed, formal invitations to others' homes
structure the social lives of all of Austen's heroines, and thus, although they
travel frequently and widely, the wills of others circumscribe their mobility.
In contrast, the men of the novel have agency in addition to mobility. They can
come and go as they wish regardless of the invitations and expectations of
others: Willoughby proclaims unexpectedly that he must go to Devonshire on
business; Colonel Brandon suddenly interrupts the outing to Whitwell because he
has urgent business in London; Edward comes and goes in no particular pattern.
While the plot of the entire novel is structured around the physical movement
of characters, only the male characters fully control their travels.
Chapters 37-41
When Miss Steele accidentally lets slip the secret of her sister's
engagement to Edward Ferrars, their relationship becomes no longer an
"attachment" but a "connection." An attachment is an
emotional association between two people; to form an attachment is to fall in
love. In contrast, a connection is the public bond involving a range of
associations between individuals and their families. When Lucy and Edward were
attached to one another, they were simply secretly in love with one another;
once Miss Steele makes their engagement public, their families become heavily
involved in an ever-widening circle of legal and economic implications. For
example, Mrs. Ferrars announces that she will disinherit her son if he marries
Lucy instead of the wealthy heiress Miss Morton, and Colonel Brandon offers
Edward a living to support his wife. Thus, when the attachment becomes a
connection, the number of individuals involved in the relationship increases
considerably.
Connections link family members to one another in concern for their mutual
welfare. These bonds are so strong that it is unusual to find people behaving
warmly and generously toward those they are not related to. Thus, John Dashwood
cannot understand why Colonel Brandon offers Edward a living
("Really!" he says upon hearing the news; "Well this is very
astonishing!--no relationship--no connection between them!") Brandon, we
know, is acting solely on the basis of voluntary fellow-feeling. He empathizes
with Edward because he, too, has known the pain of love accompanied by
tremendous emotional distress. Furthermore, he respects Edward because he knows
that Edward has Elinor's admiration. Therefore, he offers Edward a means of
supporting a wife in spite of his disinheritance. But for John Dashwood, only
family ties could provide the grounds for such a kind and generous gesture.
Chapters 42-45
Marianne's illness is a product both of excessive romantic sensibility and
of a sequence of physically plausible reactions. On the one hand, her illness
begins as a "nervous illness" induced by Willoughby's rejection and
her disappointed romantic hopes and dreams. On the other hand, she catches a
cold after wandering about the wet grounds of Cleveland. Austen's detailed
description of Marianne's physical deterioration prevents readers from
dismissing her ailment as a mere case of Victorian female hysteria: she charts
the course of Marianne's illness, from a day spent shivering by the fire, to a
restless and feverish night, to her feeling that she is "materially
better" about a week later. Then, a few hours afterward her fever returns,
accompanied by delirium. Although the scene in which Marianne cries out for her
mother seems Gothic in its melodrama, delirious outcries were a common symptom
of fever in Austen's day according to the most commonly consulted medical
handbooks. Thus, Marianne's illness is an affliction of both the soul and the
physical body.
While Marianne lies sick in bed, Elinor must deal not only with her sister's
illness but also with the individual who was in part responsible for her
condition, John Willoughby. While they were in London, Elinor concluded that
Willoughby was "deep in hardened villainy." However, in these
chapters, she comes to pity and sympathize with him. Softened by his honesty
and passion, Elinor comes to understand, along with the reader, what had seemed
a purely cruel change of heart in London. Although Willoughby's behavior is
still inexcusable, his confession at least supplies the motivation for his
actions. Perhaps Elinor finds it easier to forgive him because she knows that
ultimately he has suffered--and will continue to suffer--for his misconduct: he
has entered into a loveless marriage with a woman who will never be able to
make him happy. Elinor may also have an easier time forgiving Willoughby
because she now knows that his love for Marianne was genuine, in spite of his
inappropriate behavior. Thus, even the rational and restrained Elinor is moved
to forgive Willoughby after hearing his passionate confession.
By reintroducing Willoughby at the end of her novel, Austen grants him more
depth than an ordinary villain enjoys. Since he is able to speak for himself,
Willoughby emerges as a more complicated and nuanced character than George
Wickham, who simply carries off Lydia Bennett in
Pride and Prejudice and
never redeems himself again. Moreover, the reintroduction of Willoughby
provides a long-awaited explanation of his mercurial behavior and a
confirmation of Marianne's conviction that he loved her very much. Thus, Austen
ties up her loose ends before entering her novel's finale.
Chapters 46-50
When the servant Thomas first announces the news of "Mr.
Ferrars's" marriage to Lucy Steele, Marianne bursts out in hysterics while
Elinor maintains her composure in spite of her deep disappointment. Their
reactions are ironic on two levels. First, Elinor was the sister with a close
attachment to Edward, and thus, she has far more cause to break down in tears.
Second, not only do the sisters' reactions seem reversed from what they should
be, but the reactions of the men under discussion are reversed as well (though
we do not yet know it): it is actually Robert, not Edward, who is engaged to
Lucy Steele.
Several critics have objected to the implausibility of the match between
Marianne and Colonel Brandon. Brandon is characterized as a clear-headed,
dependable, practical man--the total opposite of the romantic and impetuous
Marianne. Thus, Marianne's final acceptance of him seems completely out of
character, since the marriage requires her to abandon her romantic ideals
entirely. Moreover, Marianne and Colonel Brandon barely interact in the novel,
especially in the concluding chapters. Thus, it seems unlikely that Marianne would
come to love Brandon as she had loved Willoughby; she hardly knows him.
Nonetheless, by closing the novel with their marriage, Austen shows the extent
of Marianne's transformation: she writes, "She was born to discover the
falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract by her conduct her most
favourite maxims." If Marianne's ability to love Brandon is unconvincing,
it is because of Austen's great faith in the ability of the individual to
remake herself in light of shifting circumstances.
The novel closes with a reminder that the most important attachment in the
novel is not that between any man and woman, but between the two sisters. The
sisters decide to live side-by-side together with their husbands at Delaford,
thereby affirming the mutual respect and affection, which has kept them close
throughout the entire novel.
Ultimately, both sisters end up married to the novel's only second sons.
Edward Ferrars, although strictly speaking the firstborn, is disinherited by
his mother; as John Dashwood remarks, "Robert will now to all intents and
purposes be considered as the eldest son." We know that Colonel Brandon is
a second son because he has an older brother who married his old sweetheart,
Eliza, many years before the novel's plot begins. Whereas these characters are
the heroes of the novel, all the eldest sons, including John Dashwood, Robert
Ferrars, and Colonel Brandon's older brother, are cast in a negative light. In
Austen's day, the eldest sons were the ones who inherited all the family
property according to the laws of male primogeniture. However, in spite of
these inheritance laws, it is the second sons who ultimately find contentment
in the novel; thus, they make happy lives for themselves despite societal and
financial constraints.
adapted from Spark notes
