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Topic:
Theme in Sense And Sensibility
Roll
no: 30
Paper
no 5: Romantic Literature
M.A:
Sem-2
Enrolment
no. : 2069108420180028
Year:
2017-19
Submitted
to:
S.B.
Gardi Department of English
Maharaja
Krishnakumarsinhji
Bhavnagar
University
Summary of Sense and Sensibility:
In
the wake of their father's death, the Dashwood sisters, Elinor, Marianne, and
Margaret, are left at the financial mercy of John, half-brother, and his greedy
wife. Though their father asked John to take care of the girls and their
distraught mother, the women end up getting seriously shafted – they're turned
out of their family home, and basically left with a barely-respectable income
to live on. Left to their own devices, the ladies decide to move away to a cottage owned by a distant cousin in Barton Park, Devonshire. Before they move house, though, Elinor (the more practical sister) tentatively allows herself to fall in love with Edward Ferrars, the gentle brother of the girls' obnoxious sister-in-law. However, both of these young people are on the, shall we say, cautious side of the emotional spectrum, and the romance doesn't go anywhere. The Dashwood girls move away to their new home, leaving Edward behind.
In Devonshire, they find themselves in the company of the aforementioned cousin, Sir John Middleton, and his rather oddball family, comprised of a dully proper wife and a hilariously raucous mother-in-law, Mrs. Jennings. Also present is Sir John's good friend, Colonel Brandon, a thirty-something, somewhat stodgy, but good-hearted bachelor, who falls for young Marianne's girlish charms. The Dashwoods try make themselves at home in the cottage, but can't help but miss their childhood home. Marianne (the less-than-practical sister) is particularly blue – that is, until she develops a love interest of her own, a dashing young man named Willoughby. Everyone gets along with the new guy just swimmingly, and the whole family expects that Marianne and Willoughby will announce their engagement any day. Marianne is sure that she's found her soul mate.
Things start to go wrong fairly soon, though. Willoughby leaves rather suddenly for London, for reasons we're not entirely certain of, and doesn't give any indication of when he'll be back. Marianne takes this very hard, as she does everything. The plot continues to thicken with the arrival of an unexpected visitor – Edward Ferrars. He stays with his friends for a week, and all the while, everyone has a great time, even morose Marianne. However, Edward's departure heralds the arrival of another set of visitors, Mrs. Palmer, Lady Middleton's hyperactive sister, and her dour husband, Mr. Palmer. The Palmers just happen to live in the general vicinity of Willoughby's country home, and Marianne is eager for news of him – but there isn't any.
After the Palmers' departure, yet another wave of newcomers washes in… and this time, they're unwelcome ones. Mrs. Jennings invites some unknown relations of hers, Miss Steele and her younger sister, Lucy, to come and stay at Barton Park. To cut a long story short, Lucy Steele admits to Elinor that she's secretly engaged – to Edward Ferrars! Elinor is shocked and upset, and her hopes for the future all crumble before her eyes.
Both Dashwood sisters are now down in the dumps with regards to romance. At this low point, Mrs. Jennings asks Elinor and Marianne to accompany her to London for an extended trip, and after some squabbling, the girls accept. They embark upon their journey with mixed feelings – Marianne hoping to see Willoughby, and Elinor afraid that she'll run into Edward. Both of these things come to pass, but not in ways that the girls expect.
Willoughby avoids Marianne like the plague, despite many, many letters from her. When they finally meet at a ball (by accident), he evades her once again. Soon thereafter, Marianne receives a rather cold letter of dumpage from Willoughby, and she falls ill with the shock. Colonel Brandon, still carrying a torch for Marianne, is concerned, but also relieved – he finally tells Elinor the horrible truth about Willoughby, which he'd been concealing all along, thinking that Willoughby and Marianne were engaged. It turns out that Willoughby is a real cad; he got Colonel Brandon's adopted daughter pregnant, dumped her, and now is engaged to a super-wealthy socialite instead of Marianne.
Meanwhile, Elinor is forced to endure the company of her unwitting enemy, Lucy Steele, who's also in town. It seems that everyone is around – even the Dashwoods' brother, John, and sister-in-law Fanny (sister of Edward). To make matters even worse, Elinor finds out that Fanny and Edward's mother has decided that Edward must marry an heiress, a certain Miss Morton. It seems like nothing is going right for poor Elinor, but she tries to keep her emotions in check. However, Lucy and Edward's engagement comes to light, much to the dismay of pretty much everyone involved. The Ferrars are all in a fit about it, and Edward is in serious trouble. Distraught, Elinor eventually confesses everything to Marianne – that she's in love with Edward, but she's known for months about the secret engagement. Marianne instantly realizes that she's been too harsh on her sister; she used to berate Elinor for being too logical, but she sees now how much her older sis has been suffering.
It emerges that Edward has been cut out of the family fortune for his disobedient conduct, and that all of the money that was supposed to come his way has been given to his obnoxious younger brother, Robert. The sympathetic Colonel Brandon helps out by offering the young man a job as the curate at his estate, Delaford. It seems as though things have worked out for Edward and Lucy (though not ideally).
Disgruntled, the Dashwoods and Mrs. Jenkins leave town, and head out to the Palmers' country house, Cleveland. The party hangs out there for a while, but Marianne can't help but be upset by their proximity to Willoughby's ancestral home, Combe Magna. She catches a cold wandering around outside, and quickly becomes dangerously ill.
Everyone's in crisis mode because of Marianne's frightening illness – apparently, even Willoughby. He shows up, disheveled and distraught, having heard that Marianne is at death's door. He opens his heart to Elinor, explaining that the only reason he married someone else was because of money – basically, he screwed up a lot of things (namely, his relationship with Colonel Brandon's adopted daughter), and his mistakes ended up preventing him from marrying Marianne, his true love. He leaves, after being reassured that Marianne's on the mend. Elinor finally forgives him (kind of) for his dastardly deeds, and knows that this story will make Marianne feel better. Elinor and Marianne's mother arrives shortly thereafter, with dramatic news of her own: Colonel Brandon has confessed that he's in love with Marianne, and Mrs. Dashwood already regards their engagement as a foregone conclusion.
Marianne slowly gets better in the company of her mother, sister, and friends, and finally, the little family heads back home to Barton, where Elinor tells Marianne and her mother about Willoughby's true feelings. Everyone feels something akin to resolution, at long last. Elinor, however, is unsettled anew by a report that "Mr. Ferrars" is married to Lucy Steele. Happily, though, there turns out to be a miscommunication; the Mr. Ferrars in question is Robert, the younger brother, not Edward. Elinor receives this good news from Edward himself, who comes to finally ask her to marry him (yay!). In the end, that little minx, Lucy, managed to ingratiate herself with the new heir to the Ferrars fortune, and broke off her engagement with the no-longer-wealthy Edward.
In the end, everything works out – Lucy gets her rich husband, and Elinor gets the man she loves. Finally, Marianne finds her own happiness, too – she learns to love Colonel Brandon back, and the pair is married. After all the drama, both Elinor and Marianne end up with their happy endings.
Themes:
Women and Feminity:
Rumor has it that girls are made of sugar and spice and
everything nice, but we think that Jane Austen might disagree. Her very real,
at times rather harsh depiction of the women of Sense and Sensibility
exposes the undeniable fact that there's more to her proper young ladies than
meets the eye – underneath their dainty exteriors, we see dangerous passion,
frustration, and even a bit of malice in one case in particular. Austen's
portrayal of women is challenging and incredibly real, and she sums up both the
delights and difficulties of femininity through the array of characters
revealed in this text.
Quotes:
They were of course very anxious to see a person on whom so much
of their comfort at Barton must depend; and the elegance of her appearance was
favourable to their wishes. Lady Middleton was not more than six or seven and
twenty; her face was handsome, her figure tall and striking, and her address
graceful. Her manners had all the elegance which her husband's wanted. But they
would have been improved by some share of his frankness and warmth; and her
visit was long enough to detract something from their first admiration, by
shewing that though perfectly well-bred, she was reserved, cold, and had nothing
to say for herself beyond the most common-place inquiry or remark. (6.8)
Lady Middleton is the most proper, "elegant" figure of
a society lady that we see – and she's thoroughly dull. If this is being a lady
is all about, we're not interested… and neither is Austen.
Society and
Class:
The world of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility is a
complicated one, in which everyone fits neatly into minute little pigeonholes
in the incredibly stratified, hierarchical class system. Imagine this system as
an enormous card catalog, in which every single person we encounter fits
somewhere – and moving them to another place is quite a big undertaking, that
involves shuffling everyone else around slightly and getting them all used to
it. Her characters are all painfully, obsessively aware of their individual
positions in society, and all of their relationships are marked distinctly by
their varying amounts of power within the social system.
Quotes:
He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold
hearted, and rather selfish, is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general,
well respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of his
ordinary duties. (1.7)
This description of John demonstrates how "cold hearted and
rather selfish" society's requirements are – all one has to do is conduct
oneself "with propriety" in everyday life in order to gain respect,
regardless of one's personal qualities.
Love:
Love is a many splendoured thing, sure, but it's also a many
troubled thing, if you ask Austen. In Sense and Sensibility, she shows
us dramatically different facets of this crazy little thing we call love, from
the euphoric to the life-threatening. While love is certainly the driving force
of the various plots we see in this novel, it's not always a good thing – in
fact, more often than not, there's an edge of danger or tragic potential in it.
Love, asserts this book, is wonderful and beautiful and all, but there's always
a chance that it'll creep up behind you and stab you in the back.
Quotes:
“It is enough," said she; "to say that he is unlike
Fanny is enough. It implies everything amiable. I love him already."
"I think you will like him," said Elinor, "when you know more of him."
"Like him!" replied her mother with a smile. "I can feel no sentiment of approbation inferior to love."
"You may esteem him."
"I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love." (3.8)
"I think you will like him," said Elinor, "when you know more of him."
"Like him!" replied her mother with a smile. "I can feel no sentiment of approbation inferior to love."
"You may esteem him."
"I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love." (3.8)
Mrs. Dashwood's vision of love, and personal relationships in
general, is much more loose and all-encompassing than Elinor's – basically,
"love" and "like" are confused in her book. She's willing
to "love" anyone, while Elinor has positive feelings broken down more
specifically into the intellectual and emotional ("esteem" versus
"love").
Home:
The loss of a cherished home is one of the
first major thematic elements of Sense and Sensibility, and that sense
of transition and movement persists throughout the novel. Home is identified as
any number of things – a beloved place, a specific set of well-known,
well-loved landmarks, a treasure trove of memories – but most of all, it's
where the heart is, as they say. And that mostly means that it's where the
family is; the sense of connection between the Dashwood sisters (our
protagonists) is what keeps them grounded throughout this novel, even when
everything seems like it's about to fly apart.
Quotes:
Mrs. Dashwood remained at Norland several months; not from any
disinclination to move when the sight of every well known spot ceased to raise
the violent emotion which it produced for a while; for when her spirits began
to revive, and her mind became capable of some exertion than that of
heightening its affliction by melancholy remembrances, she was impatient to be
gone, and indefatigable in her inquiries for a suitable dwelling in the
neighborhood of Norland; for to remove far from that beloved spot was
impossible. (3.1)
Home here is something prickly – while it's the site of trauma
and "melancholy remembrances" in the wake of Mr. Dashwood's death,
it's also too much loved to completely leave.
Language and
Communication:
Communication and miscommunication are both
central to Sense and Sensibility – the novel is full of moments of
misunderstanding as a result of what is said (or notably not said). The
characters are constantly in discourse with each other, whether in person or in
letters, but that doesn't mean that they're always clear with one another.
Actually, sometimes it's the surplus of language that makes things unclear
– Austen shows us that more words don't necessarily help explain anything.
Rather than simply talking and talking, the important thing is to make sure
that you're actually understanding each other – something that our characters
aren't always capable of. Sound familiar? It should, because it's frequently
true in real life.
Quotes:
"That is an expression, Sir John," said Marianne
warmly, "which I particularly dislike. I abhor every common-place phrase
by which wit is intended; and 'setting one's cap at a man,' or 'making a
conquest,' are the most odious of all. Their tendency is gross and illiberal;
and if their construction could ever be deemed clever, time has long ago
destroyed all its ingenuity." (9.16)
Marianne expresses her dislike for perfectly normal colloquial
speech, which she finds too crude entirely. While Sir John could be a
bit less direct and blunt, we have to say that he does manage to communicate
more clearly than some of the other characters. Perhaps some of Marianne's
troubles come from her desire to phrase everything poetically.
Family:
Families can mean a lot of different things
to different people. In Sense and Sensibility, Austen shows us a wide
range of family relationships that demonstrate this diversity of meaning. For
example, while she shows us many examples of how familial love can help bring
someone through a personal crisis, she also reveals how cruel and unfeeling
families can be at the same time; we've got everything from sisterly bonding to
parents disowning children here. Yet, despite the gamut of different
possibilities, family remains the central unit of this story – no matter how
much a character's family life sucks, it's still fundamental to that
character's existence.
Quotes:
"Your father thought only of them. And I must say
this: that you owe no particular gratitude to him, nor attention to his wishes,
for we very well know that if he could, he would have left almost everything in
the world to them." (2.6)
Fanny's flagrant disregard for the wishes of John's father
demonstrates a curious lack of respect for the dead – her vision of family
obligation is clearly on that doesn't extend beyond this mortal coil. Her view
of family is also limited to the immediate family, and therefore more
self-interested than one might expect.
Marriage:
To quote The Princess Bride,
marriage is what brings us together today – and every day, in Sense and
Sensibility. Basically everything in this book – plot, the characters,
their various motivations – all boil down to marriage. As the most important
social contract of the world that Austen depicts, marriage is an all-important
concern. Who's marrying whom? Why or why not? Is it a good match, or a bad one?
Marriage isn't just a personal matter – it practically concerns everyone in a
given social group. Why? Well, marriage isn't just an issue of love or
companionship, the way we think of it now; instead, it was more akin to a
political, social, and economic alliance between families. When two people
decide to get married here, it's not just between the two lovers – it's between
them, their parents, their siblings, and their hundred closest friends.
Quotes:
Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of
interest, for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son of a man who had died very
rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence, for, except a
trifling sum, the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother. But
Mrs. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by other consideration. It was enough for
her that he appeared to be amiable, that he loved her daughter, and that Elinor
returned the partiality. (3.4)
We see two different views of marriage (or potential marriage)
here – on one hand, the socially conventional tendency to view marriage as a
purely economic exercise, while on the other, Mrs. Dashwood's completely
sentimental, unscientific view of it, in which, as they say, all you need is
love. Neither of these views turn out to be entirely correct within the
framework of the novel.
Wealth:
Money is nice, and we all want to have it. We know it
now, and Austen knew it back in the nineteenth century. For this simple reason,
money is a motivating factor in a lot of the decisions that we see unfold in Sense
and Sensibility. Wealth and inheritance create systems of control and power
here, that profoundly influence the personal choices and options of our
characters; most of the young people Austen introduces to us are financially
dependent upon parents or other relations, and therefore obliged to submit to
them, according to the rules of the day. Maybe it's not right, but it's just
the way things work in the world of the novel – and we see them attempt to
balance the pragmatic need for wealth with their emotional demands throughout
the book.
Quotes:
Mrs. Smith has this morning exercised the privilege of riches
upon a poor dependant cousin, by sending me on business to London. I have just
received my dispatches, and taken my farewell of Allenham; and by way of
exhilaration I am now come to take my farewell of you. (15.3)
Willoughby's excuse for leaving Devonshire is ironclad – after
all, in this world, when money says, "Jump," the only possible
response is, "How high?"
Dreams, Hopes,
Plans:
Most of the dreams, hopes, and plans that
we see unfold in Sense and Sensibility have to do with love, romance,
and marriage. Basically, these are the only possible futures that are available
to our two heroines, and they both have their own visions of how these futures
should play out. The novel deals with the gaping chasm between idealistic hopes
and pragmatic plans – and what happens when these two concepts clash. The
results are by turns comic and tragic; through the struggles of our characters,
we see what happens in the difficult process of making dreams into real plans –
and then into real life.
Quotes:
[Fanny and Mrs. Ferrars] wanted to him to make a fine figure in
the world in some manner or other. His mother wished to interest him in
political concerns, to get him into parliament, or to see him connected with
some of the great men of the day. Mrs. John Dashwood wished it likewise; but in
the mean while, till one of these superior blessings could be attained, it
would have quieted her ambition to see him driving a barouche. But Edward had
no turn for great men or barouches. All his wishes centered in domestic comfort
and the quiet of private life. (3.6)
Edward's dreams and hopes aren't terribly dramatic ones –
rather, he just longs for a nice, normal, quiet life. While one might deride
this for being unambitious and small-minded, one could alternately see it as a
refreshing break from the pushy, social climbing ambition of his mom and
sister.
Competition:
The conversations between rivals we see in Sense and
Sensibility may be sugar coated, but even the faux-politeness of Austen's
dialogue isn't enough to cover up the sting underneath. Competition (especially
competition in love) is a major issue here, and somehow, the veiled nature of
it makes it all the more brutal. Austen's characters are all in the pursuit of
the same thing – successful, happy married life – and sometimes they're in
pursuit of the same people, which makes things all the more difficult. The
differing ways in which her various characters deal with the competitive nature
of the world they live in reveal volumes about their individual personalities
and beliefs.
Quotes:
“Colonel Brandon's partiality for Marianne, which had so early
been discovered by his friends, now first became perceptible to Elinor, when it
ceased to be noticed by them. Their attention and wit were drawn off to his
more fortunate rival; and the raillery which the other had incurred before any
partiality arose, was removed when his feelings began really to call for the
ridicule so justly annexed to sensibility. Elinor was obliged, though
unwillingly, to believe that the sentiments which Mrs. Jennings had assigned
him for her own satisfaction, were now actually excited by her sister; and that
however a general resemblance of disposition between the parties might forward
the affection of Mr. Willoughby, an equally striking opposition of character
was no hindrance to the regard of Colonel Brandon. She saw it with concern; for
what could a silent man of five-and-thirty hope, when opposed by a very lively
one of five-and-twenty? and as she could not even wish him successful, she
heartily wished him indifferent. (10.11)
The contrast between Colonel Brandon and Willoughby is painful –
it demonstrates the prejudices rampant in the society Austen wrote about, that
are still going strong in our own. Despite the fact that Willoughby is hiding a
dastardly past (which everyone finds out about soon enough), his outer charm
and pizzazz is enough to make him more successful than good, solid, dependable
Colonel Brandon.”
Works Cited
https://www.shmoop.com/sense-and-sensibility/summary.html
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