Sense and Sensibility
Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen. Penguin Classics (ISBN: 9780141439662) 2003 (first published in 1811).
Summary: Austen’s first novel, contrasting two sisters’ approach to love: common sense judgment versus more emotional sympathy.
Jane Austen’s birthday was December 16, 1775. So, the literary world spent the last year celebrating the two-hundred-fiftieth year of her birth. I’m a bit late to the celebration but one of my reading resolutions for 2026 is to read her six major novels, most of her published work. As for reviewing Jane Austen, volumes have been written of each of her books so my “reviews” will be more in the line of first responses to encountering Austen’s work. I’ve not viewed the film portrayals of her work, so my readings truly are first encounters, and no doubt reveal me as an Austen neophyte. Hopefully, I will inspire other first time readers as well as her fans.
It surprised me to learn that when Austen published this work, the original edition title page simply said “By a Lady.” It suggests to me the gender challenges she faced. At the same time, to not hide her gender was bold, it seems to me.
The title signifies the main theme of the book: the two approaches to love of the Dashwood sisters, Elinor and Marianne. However, the backdrop of the book concerns money and inheritance as it bears on matters of love. For the Dashwood sisters, this is set up by Henry Dashwood, who asked his son John on his deathbed to provide for his stepmother and stepsisters. But beyond a basic “living,” John’s wife discourages any further help. Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters, including Margaret, the youngest, accept a modest existence. Sir John Middleton ameliorates their straitened circumstances by providing them the use of Barton Cottage and welcoming them to gatherings at Barton Hall. However, their financial condition affects the marriage prospects of the sisters.
This is where sense and sensibility come into play. Elinor is the one with “sense.” She is somewhat diffidently courted by Edward Ferrars. The couple do grow in their friendship and Elinor has hope of more. Edward, as eldest son, has the expectation of a good inheritance. But mother has her sights set higher than Elinor Dashwood. Edward ceases to be in contact, and it appears he is affianced to the socially ambitious Lucy Steele. Elinor comes to a stoic acceptance that she may not marry–except we see hints that in her heart of hearts, she would have it otherwise.
Meanwhile, Marianne, the younger sister, is beautiful, winsome and characterized by “sensibility.” Attraction and connection matter. Through the Middletons, she meets Colonel Brandon. Brandon is more than ten years older and has a respectable estate after a career in military service. He is quiet and “solid” and interested in Marianne. But she has no interest in him. Instead, due to a sprained ankle, she meets John Willoughby. Quickly, they discover common interests, and before long, there are intimations of a forthcoming engagement. Then Willoughby suddenly leaves for London in connection with a financial crisis.
When Sir John Middleton’s mother-in-law, Mrs. Jennings invites the sisters to London, Marianne reaches out to Willoughby but hears nothing. Finally, she learns Willoughby is betrothed to another woman. She is heartbroken, which sends her into a physical as well as emotional tailspin that her sister is powerless to prevent. She contracts a “putrid fever,” her condition so bad that Elinor enlists Colonel Brandon to bring Mrs. Dashwood to her daughter’s bedside.
At this point, things look bad all around for love and even, in Marianne’s case, for life. Neither sense nor sensibility seem to be working out very well. I’m going to leave it at that, as far as the story goes so you can discover how it all works out if you haven’t read the book.
Money and love. One of the things I notice is that this is a relatively monied crowd. There’s no working class here. No women in service. No men who are laborers. The question is whether you are moving up, and for both women and men, marrying into money is a part of the equation. Edward Ferrar’s mother’s purse strings deters him from pursuing Elinor. Willoughby’s finances are shaky. He also needs to marry money.
Sense and sensibility. It seems in the end, the sisters realize a bit of each are important. At the same time, the portrayal of men reveals few men of virtue. Maybe Sir John Middleton, who seems a generous soul. Colonel Brandon is a solid man of integrity, but uninteresting to Marianne. Ferrars is weak through most of the novel. Willoughby is just a flashy cad. As Flannery O’Connor commented in a very different context, “A good man is hard to find.” It’s not surprising there are so many unhappy marriages.
To her credit, Elinor represents a woman strong enough not to settle. She reminds me of a wise woman I knew who married late in life. She said, “it was better to be single and a little lonely, than married to the wrong person and miserable.” Things are different today than in Jane Austen’s time. No doubt she played a small part in that. But her tale of sense and sensibility suggests both are necessary in the making of good marriages.
