Reading Guides for Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility
By Dan Pearce, English Department Faculty
Welcome to the Big Read!
Welcome to all those who have decided to participate in BYU-Idaho’s first Big Read. We are very encouraged by the initial responses we received from the invitation we sent out in August. We have heard from hundreds of students, as well as faculty and campus community members, who have said they plan to read Sense and Sensibility over the next few months. We have been excited to hear that several faculty members have changed their book orders and their syllabi to support the Big Read the next two terms. Thanks for your support! We have some news to pass along to all readers to help make your Big Read a fun and satisfying experience.
First, beginning today, every two weeks we’ll be sending you emails about Sense and Sensibility. These emails will contain helpful tips for reading and understanding Austen’s first novel.
Next, we want to announce a reading schedule for Sense and Sensibility. The schedule is only a recommendation, of course. The schedule is intended to correlate with the three on-campus events we have scheduled. Traditionally, Sense and Sensibility is published in three “Volumes.” As a goal, we would like participants to read Volume One (encompassing 22 chapters) by November 17, Volume Two (the next 14 chapters) by January 26, 2017, and Volume 3 (the final 14 chapters) by March 16, 2017. On November 17 and January 26 we will have a couple of Big Read chats. The chats will be held at 7:00 PM, and will feature a brief lecture followed by a Q & A, an open discussion of Sense and Sensibility, and refreshments (rooms to be announced). The March 16 meeting will feature a symposium at 2:00 PM (we’re still working on the details). Feel free to read the novel at your own pace (read it twice, if you like). If you are reading the novel for a course this semester, you may wish to complete it before March.
We’re also announcing we have selected an official text for the Big Read: the most recent (2014) Penguin edition of Sense and Sensibility. Actually, just about any edition of the novel you already own will be fine. However, the College of Languages and Letters has generously distributed many copies of the Penguin edition already. In upcoming emails, we will be raising questions and sharing interesting insights into the novel, and we will try to draw attention to particular passages that reflect Austen’s brilliance and wisdom. When we cite Sense and Sensibility, we will indicate in parentheses the page on which each passage may be found in the Penguin edition. These emails will also open a dialogue about questions you may have about the novel. We’ll call this bi-weekly installment, “Questions and Reflections.” The purpose of “Questions and Reflections” is to try to deepen your understanding of the novel and to invite questions for reflection and discussion. We’ll always provide questions for you to ponder, but readers are also invited to email their questions to Dan Pearce at pearced@byui.edu. We hope to get many of your questions and responses posted on our Big Read web page we’re developing. And we’ll share some of the most interesting responses in our bi-weekly emails. We cannot promise we’ll be able to respond to every question, but we will do the best we can. We hope you will not have to wait until Nov. 17 to begin a robust conversation about this wonderful book.
Reading Guide #1: Questions and Reflections
Why is money so important in Jane Austen’s novels?
Sense and Sensibility begins by talking about money, and all of Austen’s novels focus quite a bit on the financial circumstances of the main characters. But how can we translate Austen’s early nineteenth century ideas about money into a language that 21st century readers can understand? When we are told that John Dashwood’s inheritance of the Norland estate would mean an increase of “four thousand [pounds] a year” (7) above what he has already inherited and married into, we are not quite sure what that means in contemporary dollars. Exact exchange rates between past and present monetary values are nearly impossible to calculate precisely, but some experts would say £1 in Jane Austen’s time would equal about $80 in today’s currency. That would mean the Norland estate brings in about $320,000 per year—not a bad inheritance.
On the other hand, Mrs. Henry Dashwood and her three daughters are set to inherit £10,000 or about $800,000 in today’s currency. Isn’t that better than what John and Fanny Dashwood inherit? It is not. The £10,000 is a one-time block of cash that must last those women the rest of their lives (including the dowries they would take with them into a marriage). However, by putting that £10,000 in the bank, they could earn an interest rate of about 5% per year; thus, they would have an annual income of £500. The Norland estate, through rents and agricultural profits, etc., brings in £4,000 each year; consequently, Fanny’s extended argument about what she and her husband can do to financially assist his “half-sisters” is what makes Chapter 2 ironically and deliciously comical.
As you read through Sense and Sensibility, as well as other Austen novels, keep in mind these monetary values. When you get to chapter 17 of Sense and Sensibility, pay close attention to the argument Elinor and Marianne have about money, as well as the numerous other references to money throughout the novel. How do attitudes about money connect to some of the novel’s central themes?
If you have further questions about money in Jane Austen’s novels, or additional questions about Sense and Sensibility, don't hesitate to contact us. We’ll share some responses to your questions as the Big Read continues.
Reading Guide #2: The Title and Parallel Structure of Sense and Sensibility
Jane Austen wrote the first draft of Sense and Sensibility in 1795 at the age of 20. Originally, it was titled Elinor and Marianne, and it was written in an epistolary form: that is, as letters exchanged between the sisters. In 1809, Jane Austen, her mother, sister, and family friend moved into a country cottage where she immediately set to work on revising Elinor and Marianne. She renamed it Sense and Sensibility.
The novel still primarily focuses on the two Dashwood sisters Elinor and Marianne—though mostly we get Elinor’s point of view. The novel’s structure of parallel scenes is noteworthy. Readers should notice that when one sister has an experience, at some point in the plot, the other sister usually has a similar experience. For example, in chapter 4, Marianne critiques Elinor’s love interest, Edward Ferrars, but later in chapter 10, Elinor offers her critical observations of Marianne’s romantic interest, John Willoughby. After Willoughby leaves the neighborhood of Barton Cottage in chapter 15, we get to see Marianne’s dramatic reaction. Not surprisingly, after Edward takes leave from his Barton Cottage visit, we get to observe Elinor’s reaction (chapter 19). By the time you get to chapter 23, when Elinor is informed of Edward’s secret engagement, you can kind of anticipate what will be in Marianne’s future a few chapters later. These plot parallels continue throughout the novel.
Why does Austen use this plot structure? To force readers to compare these two sisters and their personal philosophies that influence and inform their decisions and behavior. The title, Sense and Sensibility, highlights the conscious, philosophical differences between these two exceptional young women. In fact, quite early in the novel, the narrator goes out of her way to make readers aware of the fact that Marianne and Elinor, though temperamentally and intellectually similar, have deliberately chosen conflicting life philosophies. To illustrate these differences, near the end of the first chapter, the narrator notes Elinor’s respect for propriety and etiquette, her “strength of understanding,” and her “coolness of judgment” (8). The narrator goes on, however, to emphasize the sisters’ similarities. Speaking of Elinor, she notes that
[Elinor] had an excellent heart;--her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught.
Marianne’s abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor’s. She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything; her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation. She was generous amiable, interesting: she was everything but prudent. (8)
Marianne is “quite equal” to her gifted older sister in most respects but one: she has “resolved” not learn how to “govern” her strong feelings. And the narrator tips her hand a little bit, when she notes that Marianne’s resolution sometimes leads to imprudence.
Marianne’s resolution not to govern her emotions is a philosophical choice. She is not merely an emotional girl. Her belief in the inherent goodness of her own character and feelings is a reflection of radical new ideas that were starting to take hold in England at the end of the 18th Century and in the early 19th Century—ideas connected to what scholars call the Romantic Period. Marianne’s attitudes towards nature, her beliefs about love, the writers and literary works she prefers, and her inflexible idealism all point to romantic influences. In particular, it is her unwavering trust in her own emotional wisdom that connects her to a movement that was called “The Cult of Sensibility” in Jane Austen’s time. Marianne does not believe in governing her feelings because it would be unauthentic and essentially dishonest to behave differently from what one feels. When Austen decided to use the word sensibility in her title, she knew she was using a loaded term—as English gentlemen and women debated the wisdom, propriety, and ethics of trusting completely the guidance of one’s feelings.
Elinor, in contrast, is a child of 18th Century Enlightenment. She believes in emotional restraint, good manners, reason, and enlightened self-interest. She does not always trust her own feelings, and believes there might be times when it is wise to mask one’s honest emotions.
The language of the novel is clear; over and over, it emphasizes that each sister’s behavior is governed by conscious choices about how to approach life’s challenges—particularly in regards to courtship, marriage, and love. Austen forces readers to compare, question, and reflect on the choices Elinor and Marianne make. Which sister’s approach to love is wisest? When it comes to life’s biggest decisions—regarding courtship and matrimony—what is most important? Reason or sincere feeling? Is it possible that both virtues, both “sense” and “sensibility,” can be taken to harmful extremes? In foreshadowing the novel’s final chapter, perhaps central question is this: Are “strong esteem and lively friendship” enough to marry on? Jane Austen’s answer to this last question may surprise you.
Austen masterfully employs irony, wit, and sparkling dialogue to invite us to explore these important life questions. I hope you are enjoying the journey.
Please email your questions and insights to us at pearced@byui.edu. We’d like to share a conversation about Sense and Sensibility. The Big Read is just getting started.
Reading Guide #3: Sense and Sensibility and Romantic Ideas
Hello again to all who are participating in the Big Read of Sense and Sensibility. On behalf of many BYUI faculty—especially many in the English Department—I want to thank President Gilbert for his support of the Big Read given during last week’s devotional.
In extending the invitation to read Sense and Sensibility, President Gilbert made two significant connections that I appreciate and would like to comment on. First, the promotion of the Big Read came on the heels of a thank-you to the students for participation in a recent “Date Night with the Gilberts.” I applaud the President’s (and Sister Gilbert’s) efforts to encourage a stronger dating culture here at BYU-Idaho. And I believe that any person who thoughtfully reads Sense and Sensibility will come away with a wealth of wisdom about love, courtship, healthy relationships, and marriage.
Second, in promoting the Big Read, President Gilbert also touched on the idea of infusing “romance” into our dating and marriage relationships. He briefly spoke about bringing the language of romance into his own marriage—because it’s an important part of his ongoing commitment to enrich his relationship with his wife. I love the idea of seeing courtship as a dynamic, continuing process that doesn’t end with marriage. Jane Austen’s novels show that wise couples understand how to use courtship to deepen friendship into abiding love.
To build a little off of President Gilbert’s comments, I want to focus attention on a couple of words that appear frequently in Sense and Sensibility: “romance” and “romantic.” In the novel, these words are problematic. “Romance” was also problematic for Jane Austen as a novelist; we know from some of her letters that Austen did not consider herself a writer of romances. (Does this surprise you?) We know she was a reader of popular formula romances, and that she enjoyed poking fun at them as well. In fact, one of the first novels she wrote, entitled Susan (later revised and retitled Northanger Abbey), is a satire of gothic romances and their readers. Interestingly, in many respects, Sense and Sensibility is one of her most anti-romantic novels.
In Sense and Sensibility romance is a word that has different meanings for different characters. For example, Marianne is an unabashed supporter of romantic philosophy. Her alignment with romantic ideas is illustrated by her love of picturesque nature, her preference for popular romantic writers (like Sir Walter Scott), but it’s also revealed in her idealized notions about love and courtship: She is not opposed to love at first sight; she believes in the likelihood that there is only one true perfectly compatible soul-mate for each person. She also does not believe in “second attachments”—that is, she believes falling in love a second or even a third time can never match the incomparable, transformative event of falling in love the first time. After one’s “first attachment,” any subsequent falling in love will pale by comparison.
Austen uses the novel’s characters to express a variety of opinions about Marianne’s romantic ideals. Perhaps the best illustration of conflicting opinions about these ideals occurs in chapter 11, when Colonel Brandon and Elinor discuss Marianne’s romantic philosophy. The following conversation takes place at a neighborhood gathering at Barton Park. The Colonel and Elinor are seated next each other watching Marianne dance. Eventually, Colonel Brandon makes the following remark to Elinor:
“Your sister, I understand, does not approve of second attachments.”
"No," replied Elinor, "her opinions are all romantic."
"Or rather, as I believe, she considers them impossible to exist."
"I believe she does. But how she contrives it without reflecting on the character of her own father, who had himself two wives, I know not. A few years, however, will settle her opinions on the reasonable basis of common sense and observation; and then they may be more easy to define and to justify than they now are, by any body but herself."
"This will probably be the case," he replied; "and yet there is something so amiable in the prejudices of a young mind, that one is sorry to see them give way to the reception of more general opinions."
"I cannot agree with you there," said Elinor. "There are inconveniences attending such feelings, as Marianne's, which all the charms of enthusiasm and ignorance of the world cannot atone for. Her systems have all the unfortunate tendency of setting propriety at nought; and a better acquaintance with the world is what I look forward to as her greatest possible advantage." (56-7)
After a short pause, Colonel Brandon asks Elinor if she knows of any “circumstances” that might make a second attachment acceptable to her sister. Elinor responds:
"Upon my word, I am not acquainted with the minutiae of her principles. I only know that I never yet heard her admit any instance of a second attachment's being pardonable."
"This," said he, "cannot hold; but a change, a total change of sentiments- No, no, do not desire it; for when the romantic refinements of a young mind are obliged to give way, how frequently are they succeeded by such opinions as are but too common and too dangerous! I speak from experience.” (57)
This conversation is significant because it occurs between the two characters who are the moral pillars of the novel. In fact, later in the plot, both Mrs. Jennings and John Dashwood are convinced that Colonel Brandon will propose to Elinor. They are very similar when you think of it: they both value sense, and good manners, and they are the most patient, and long-suffering, and unselfish of all the novel’s characters. (Colonel Brandon’s charity is nearly saint-like.) Yet the two most moral and reasonable characters cannot agree on Marianne’s romantic idealism. Elinor attributes Marianne’s romantic ideals about love to immaturity, and a lack of “common sense” and life experience. Elinor hopes that time and “a better acquaintance with the world” will cure Marianne of her “ignorance.” The older sister looks “forward” to Marianne’s abandonment of unrealistic romantic ideals.
Colonel Brandon, however, is not so sure. Though he believes Marianne’s absolute faith in her romantic ideals “cannot hold,” he counsels Elinor not to “desire” a “total change” in the “romantic refinements” of her sister. Prophetically, the Colonel believes that the “total” abandonment of youthful idealism leads “too dangerous” “opinions.” He does not say specifically what these dangerous opinions are, but as the novel unfolds we discover they are disillusionment, despondency, and despair.
What does it mean when the wisest and steadiest characters of the novel disagree about romantic sensibility? Elinor hopes her sister will grow out of it; Colonel Brandon thinks Marianne’s romanticism is natural and “amiable.” He believes a total change would be harmful. Who is right? What are the implications for our own romantic tendencies?
In the last few pages of the novel, Austen will suggest that Elinor and the Colonel are both correct: extreme romantic sensibility may lead to self-destructive choices, but moderate romantic sensibility (an oxymoron for sure) may infuse life with warmth, zest, hope, and greater love.