Book Review Time: Sense And Sensibility, Jane Austen

I love Jane Austen. I really truly do. My first introduction to Miss Austen seems to be a rather predictable one, as I’ve heard similar tales from other Janeites.

Here’s a quick summary:

It’s my sophomore year of high school and I’m enrolled in AP English Literature.

The syllabus contains what you might expect. Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. And of course, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

All of them, amazing works. But I was instantly smitten with the latter.

It would be shortsighted and dismissive to view Austen’s novels as simple stories about women just wanting to get married. Because her writing is so much more than that. They’re expertly crafted character studies of individuals (mainly women) of a very specific time, in a very specific place.

And yes! Women do want to marry. But that’s understandable if marriage is one of the very few means of establishing security.

Austen was a master at capturing the social interactions and societal machinations of  Regency era England. And she did it in a way that continues to entertain and delight. Not to mention the fact that Austen was so damn funny. Wickedly so.

Her immense talent is marked by a readership that grows with each new generation.

I’ve read all of Jane Austen’s novels. My particular favorites are Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion. Each of which I’ve read at least five times. They’re my go-to’s when I need an Austen fix. But this go around I decided to reread Sense And Sensibility.

I have a basic understanding of how social media algorithms work. And perhaps due to a recently watched Emma Thompson interview, married with a history of Jane Austen searches, clips from Ang Lee’s film adaptation of Sense And Sensibility have been popping up quite frequently on my feed. Therefore I have to admit this likely also played a role in my desire to reread this wonderful classic.

Sense And Sensibility is the story of two sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood. Although they’re exceptionally close, when it comes to personalities, they couldn’t be any more different.

Elinor is observant, contemplative, and practical. Whereas, Marianne leads always with her heart. Her emotions and inclinations are rarely hidden. To say Marianne is passionate, would be an understatement.

Due to the recent death of their father and the passive aggressive influence of their conniving sister-in-law, the Miss Dashwoods must relocate from their family home to smaller accommodations in another village.
They, along with their mother and younger sister, occupy their time with sketching, reading, needlework, and music.

But this wouldn’t be an Austen novel without some socializing. And there’s so much of it.

Dinners and dances. Card playing, taking turns about a room, and whispering gossip in hidden corners (unless you’re Mrs. Jennings, in which case the gossip is never whispered.)

These moments allow the reader to really get to know the characters. And supplemented by Austen’s use of free indirect discourse, the intimacy between the reader and the story intensifies.

As stated before, Elinor and Marianne are very different people. And nowhere is this difference more on display than in their approach to love. Because yes, they’re both in love.

Elinor loves Edward Ferrars, the brother of the conniving sister-in-law mentioned previously. Edward matches Elinor’s reserve. However, he and ElInor have a special bond, a comfortability in each other’s company.

But after the Dashwoods’ removal from the family estate, something has changed in Edward. He’s colder. His interactions with Elinor now are stiff in their formality. She is hurt by this sudden shift in behavior. But Elinor shelters these feelings within, while on the surface, maintaining a brave face.

Marianne, for her part, has met a dashing young man called Willoughby. He’s tall and handsome and the fact that he has rescued Marianne after an unfortunate fall down a hill, adds to Willoughby’s romantic hero mystique. Marianne is head over heels…literally.

They spend every moment together. Even in mixed company, Marianne and Willoughby’s undivided attention is on each other. They talk. They laugh. Willoughby reads poetry to Marianne. Marianne plays music on the pianoforte for Willoughby.

It’s a lot. Dare I say, too much.

Unfortunately, the happy times are short-lived. Willoughby is unexpectedly drawn away, and Marianne is left devastated. And because Marianne is Marianne, her devastation is intense to say the least.

Sense And Sensibility is about how these two young women manage their shared disappointment in love and the surprising revelations that are invariably unearthed. Yet, it also shows how resiliency stems from self-awareness and deep reflection.

It’s a lovely novel.

One final note regarding Marianne.

When I first read Sense And Sensibility I found her to be really annoying. The words “too much” keep coming to mind when I think of her.

But on this second reading I found myself giving her much more grace. Her behaviors and notions are informed by self-centeredness and far too much exposure to 19th century media (i.e. romantic poetry.)

All this is to say, Marianne is a typical teenager. We’ve all been there, haven’t we?

You may even have a grumpy teenager walking around your house right now, eating all your food, and looking at you like you’re the dumbest person on the planet whenever you offer them advice or ask that they “please use a napkin”…

Sorry to vent.😂

Happy reading!

~G