THE SENSE AND SENSIBILITY BICENTENARY CELEBRATION - GUESTPOST AND GIVEAWAY. LAUREL ANN NATTRESS, MARIANNE DASHWOOD: A PASSION FOR DEAD LEAVES AND OTHER SENSIBILITIES

This is the twelfth and the last guestpost in this series celebrating the Bicentenary of Sense and Sensibility (1811) . On this occasion, I'd like to thank all my guests for contributing so generously to the success of the event with their brilliant essays: Jennifer Becton, Alexa Adams, C. Allyn Pierson, Beth Pattillo, Jane Odiwe, Deb Barnum, Laurie Viera Rigler, Regina Jeffers, Lynn Shepherd, Meredith Esparza, Vic Sanborn and Laurel Ann Nattress. My gratitude to Katherine Cox, too, who created the logo for our celebration here at My Jane Austen Book Club. 


Now, to close this incredible monthly event, the lady of Austenprose,  Laurel Ann Nattress, with a thorough and delightful post about Marianne  Dashwood and her inclination to ... sensibilities. Enjoy and leave your comment as well as your e-mail address to enter the giveaway of a copy of Jane Austen Made Me Do It, the anthology of Austen-inspired short stories edited by Laurel Ann. The giveaway ends on December 31st and is open worldwide.

Thank you Maria for including me in your Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Celebration. I have so enjoyed the eleven previous essays by fellow Janeites this year.

Even though Jane Austen’s first published novel, Sense and Sensibility, is now two hundred years old, it is still pertinent to today’s readers thanks to its two intriguing heroines, Marianne and Elinor Dashwood.

I especially requested to be your last contributor in your celebration because I wanted to talk about Marianne Dashwood, Jane Austen’s young, emotional and “sensible” co-heroine. She should have the last word. Can you imagine what this novel would be like without Marianne? The story would dull, dull, dull, and passionless. She is the kindling of the narrative, supplying all the high strung energy and melodrama to ignite the plot. Her elder, and more staid sister Elinor, is quite the opposite in personality, offering us all that is “sense,” decorum and practicality.

So, why did Jane Austen write about two sisters that were so divergent in how they react and view life’s challenges: Marianne, all self-indulgent, unguarded and unfiltered opinion and emotion, and Elinor, all practicality, proper decorum, and as unreadable asthe prisoner ofPignerol? If these two young ladies sound like polar opposites, then you are correct in your analysis. This intriguing combination of personalities plays off each like fire and ice, setting the scene perfectly for Austen’s between the lines social commentary on women, money and love. 

Kate Winslet as Marianne (1995)

Let’s start with the title of the novel. The meaning of sense and sensibility to modern readers might fly over their heads, but is actually a juxtaposition of terms. Today, sensibility equates to having sense, or being rationally composed and practical. In Jane Austen’s day, sensibility had an entirely opposite meaning. In fact, there was a literary genre devoted to it called the “sentimental novel”or “sensibility novel” which celebrated the “emotional and intellectual concepts of sentiment, sentimentalism, and sensibility.” This was based on the 18th-century Cult of the Sensibility: whereby genteel society  believed in the exaggerated expression of emotions. Women’s mannerisms revolved around the delicacy of their sensitive nervous system, equaling expression of feelings through blushing, swooning and crying in response to a situation. Samuel Richardson's novel Clarissa, or, the History of a Young Lady (1748) is a perfect example of a “sensibility novel” containing a young, innocent, virtuous, heroine who blushes, swoons and cries in response to her abuse by her family and a corrupt man who seduces her for his own entertainment. Ironically, in her usual stroke of brilliance, Austen chooses to use some of the same plot devices in Sense and Sensibilityand cleverly flip-flops them, makingMarianne a sentimental, emotional firecracker of a heroine plopped down into apractical environment fueled by money worries, the marriage market, social standing and sense.

Here are a few of my favorite Marianne quotes to exemplify my points involving: dreadful indifference, common-place notion of decorum,pleasure and regret, determining intimacy, fixed opinions, anddead leaves:

“I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every point coincide with my own. He must enter into all my feelings; the same books, the same music must charm us both. Oh mama! how spiritless, how tame was Edward's manner in reading to us last night! I felt for my sister most severely. Yet she bore it with so much composure, she seemed scarcely to notice it. I could hardly keep my seat. To hear those beautiful lines which have frequently almost driven me wild, pronounced with such impenetrable calmness, such dreadful indifference!” Chapter 3

“Elinor,” cried Marianne, “is this fair? is this just? are my ideas so scanty? But I see what you mean. I have been too much at my ease, too happy, too frank. I have erred against every common-place notion of decorum! I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful. Had I talked only of the weather and the roads, and had I spoken only once in ten minutes, this reproach would have been spared.” Chapter 10

“Dear, dear Norland!” said Marianne, as she wandered alone before the house, on the last evening of their being there; “when shall I cease to regret you? -- when learn to feel a home elsewhere? -- Oh happy house! could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no more! -- And you, ye well-known trees! -- but you will continue the same. -- No leaf will decay because we are removed, nor any branch become motionless although we can observe you no longer! -- No; you will continue the same; unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you occasion, and insensible of any change in those who walk under your shade! -- But who will remain to enjoy you?” Chapter 5

“You are mistaken, Elinor,” said she warmly, “in supposing I know very little of Willoughby. I have not known him long indeed, but I am much better acquainted with him, than I am with any other creature in the world, except yourself and mama. It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy: -- it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others. I should hold myself guilty of greater impropriety in accepting a horse from my brother than from Willoughby. Of John I know very little, though we have lived together for years; but of Willoughby my judgment has long been formed.”

Elinor thought it wisest to touch that point no more. She knew her sister's temper. Opposition on so tender a subject would only attach her the more to her own opinion. Chapter 12

“Perhaps, then, you would bestow it as a reward on that person who wrote the ablest defence of your favorite maxim, that no one can ever be in love more than once in their life -- for your opinion on that point is unchanged, I presume?” (Edward Ferrars)

“Undoubtedly. At my time of life, opinions are tolerably fixed. It is not likely that I should now see or hear anything to change them.” (Marianne Dashwood)

“Marianne is as stedfast as ever, you see,” said Elinor, “she is not at all altered.” Chapter 17

“And how does dear, dear Norland look?” cried Marianne.

“Dear, dear Norland,” said Elinor, “probably looks much as it always does at this time of year. The woods and walks thickly covered with dead leaves.”

“Oh!” cried Marianne, “with what transporting sensations have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted, as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven as much as possible from the sight.”

“It is not every one," said Elinor, "who has your passion for dead leaves.” Chapter 16

Marianne Dashwood – the seventeen year old middle daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dashwood of Norland Park may be spontaneous, excessively sensible, overly romantic,  idealistic, impulsive and determined to love the a risky suitor John Willoughby – but she never loves by halves – absolving all her trying faults and blunders. Austen does eventually have her come to her “senses” and realize the err of her ways – and change, but I always feel a “sense” of loss at her transformation from wild innocent to contrite adult, choosing to marry the practical Col. Brandon by the end of the novel. I never truly believe that she does not mourn the loss of the admiration of dead leaves and other sensibilities. Like a wild mustang, breaking Marianne’s spirit, broke her charm to us. This was Austen’s bittersweet message of women’s lot in the early 1800’s. Today we have more options, but Marianne’s message still rings true today. Never love by halves. Don’t be “reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful” to your true self. Discover “everything that is worthy and amiable” in yourself and revel in it.

Author Bio

A life-long acolyte of Jane Austen, Laurel Ann Nattress is the editor of Jane Austen Made Me Do It, an anthology of twenty-two Austenesque stories published by Ballantine Book in 2011, and Austenprose.com, a blog devoted to the oeuvre of her favorite author and the many books and movies that she has inspired. She is a life member of the Jane Austen Society of North America, a regular contributor to the PBS blog Remotely Connected and the Jane Austen Centre online magazine. An expatriate of southern California, Laurel Ann lives in a country cottage near Snohomish, Washington where it rains a lot. Visit Laurel Ann at her blog Austenprose – A Jane Austen Blog, on Twitter as @Austenprose, and on Facebook as Laurel Ann Nattress.

LITTLE AUSTEN WOMEN - FROM MARIANNE TO CATHERINE

Still re-reading Northanger Abbey for our meeting next  February 27th .

N.B. maybe we'll have to postpone it ... I might  be forced away and for some days so... it'll probably be the following Saturday, in that case. But the readers in the group will be all warned in time, from the library, of course.

Now, what did I want to tell you? Yeah! Here it is.  I met two of the girls in the reading group, two of the youngest ones, and they told me they are enjoying reading Northanger Abbey this , more than Sense and Sensibility last month. The girls I met are 16 years old, more or less the same age of Marianne Dashwood and Catheri ne Morland who are both 17, but times are so diverse!
 The youngest among Austen protagonists, Marianne and Catherine, are those I call little Austen women. Which is the reason why my two young mates like Nothanger Abbey more than S&S? Maybe because in the latter Austen sees facts from Elinor's point of view mostly? Because Marianne can't get the fulfilment of her passionate love? I really can't imagine but I'm going to ask them during  next meeting.

Meanwhile, what I would like to do is comparing the two little Austen women: Catherine Morland and Marianne Dashwood. Do they share any trait of their personality? Are their  stories more similar or more distant?

Let's see...

Marianne

1. She 's introduced like this ...

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. The resemblance between her and her mother was strikingly great.

Elinor saw, with concern, the excess of her sister's sensibility; but by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued and cherished. They encouraged each

other now in the violence of their affliction. The agony of grief which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought for, was created again and again. They gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in future. (chapt. 1)

Then described this way
(from chapter 10) "Marianne was still handsomer. Her form,though not so correct as her sister's, in having the advantage of height, was more striking; and her face was so lovely, that when in the common cant of praise, she was called a beautiful girl, truth was less violently outraged than usually happens. Her skin was very brown, but, from its transparency, her complexion was uncommonly brilliant; her features were all good; her smile was sweet and attractive; and in her eyes, which were very dark, there was a life, a spirit, an eagerness, which could hardily be seen without delight."

2. First meeting with Willoughby....

A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers playing round him, was passing up the hill and within a few yards of Marianne, when her accident happened. He put down his gun and ran to her assistance. She had raised herself from the ground, but her foot had been twisted in her fall, and she was scarcely able to stand. The gentleman offered his services; and perceiving that her modesty declined what her situation rendered necessary, took her up in his arms without farther delay, and carried her down the hill. Then passing through the garden, the gate of which had been left open by Margaret, he bore her directly into the house, whither Margaret was just arrived, and quitted not his

hold till he had seated her in a chair in the parlour.(...)

She thanked him again and again; and, with a sweetness of address which always attended her, invited him to be seated. But this he declined, as he was dirty and wet. Mrs. Dashwood then begged to know to whom she was obliged. His name, he replied, was Willoughby, and his present home was at Allenham, from whence he hoped she would allow him the honour of calling tomorrow to enquire after Miss Dashwood. The honour was readily granted, and he then departed, to make himself still more interesting, in the midst of a heavy rain.
His manly beauty and more than common gracefulness were instantly the theme of general admiration, and the laugh which his gallantry raised against Marianne received particular spirit from his exterior attractions.-- Marianne herself had seen less of his person that the rest, for the confusion which crimsoned over her face, on his lifting her up, had robbed her of the power of regarding him after their entering the house. But she had seen enough of him to join in all the admiration of the others, and with an energy which always adorned her praise. His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever drawn for the hero of a favourite story; and in his carrying her into the house with so little previous formality, there was a rapidity of thought which particularly recommended the action to her. Every circumstance belonging to him was interesting. His name was good, his residence was in their favourite village, and she soon found out that of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket was the most becoming. Her imagination was busy, her reflections were pleasant, and the pain of a sprained ankle was disregarded.

3. Likes and passtimes....
Reading , playing the piano and singing, walking in the countryside
 
4. Temper.....
She was generous, amiable, interesting: she was everything but prudent (chapt. 1)

5. finally...

I've always thought that the end of Sense and Sensibility is very bitter if seen from Marianne's point of view. In the end, her pursuit of love against all  social conventions destroys her spirit and her romantic ideals. After Willoughby turns her down , she accepts and surrenders to the socially convenient marriage to Colonel Brandon.  We are happy for Elinor who finally marries the man she loves, but not for Marianne who longed for more and got the less.

Catherine

1. She's introduced like this

"No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine. Her situation in life, the character of her father and mother, her own person and disposition, were all equally against her."

She's then ( at 17 ) described as....

"...pleasing, and, when in good looks, pretty--and her mind about as ignorant and uninformed as the female mind at seventeen usually is”.

2. First meeting with Mr Tilney

(from chapter 3) They made their appearance in the Lower Rooms; and here fortune was more

favourable to our heroine. The master of the ceremonies introduced to her a very gentlemanlike young man as a partner; his name was Tilney.

He seemed to be about four or five and twenty,  he was  rather tall, had a pleasing countenance, a very intelligent and lively eye, and, if not

quite handsome, was very near it. His address was good, and Catherine felt herself in high luck. There was little leisure for speaking while they danced; but when they were seated at tea, she found him as agreeable as she had already given him credit for being. He talked with fluency and spirit--and there was an archness and pleasantry in his manner which interested, though it was hardly  understood by her. After chatting some time on such matters as naturally arose from the objects

around them, he suddenly addressed her with--"I have hitherto been very remiss, madam, in the proper attentions of a partner here; I have not yet asked you how long you have been in Bath; whether you were ever here before; whether you have been at the Upper Rooms, the theatre, and

the concert; and how you like the place altogether. I have been very negligent--but are you now at leisure to satisfy me in these particulars? If you are I will begin directly."

3. Likes and passtimes (in her teenage)

Reading, especially gothic novels, but not only!

“...from fifteen to seventeen she was in training for a heroine; she read all such works as heroines must read to supply their memories with those quotations which are so serviceable and so soothing in the vicissitudes of their eventful lives.

From Pope, she learnt to censure those who

"bear about the mockery of woe."

From Gray, that

"Many a flower is born to blush unseen,


"And waste its fragrance on the desert air."

From Thompson, that--

"It is a delightful task


"To teach the young idea how to shoot."

And from Shakespeare she gained a great store of information--amongst the rest, that--

"Trifles light as air,


"Are, to the jealous, confirmation strong,


"As proofs of Holy Writ."


4. Temper

(from chapter 2) “In addition to what has been already said of Catherine Morland's personal and mental endowments, when about to be launched into all the difficulties and dangers of a six weeks' residence in Bath, it may be stated, for the reader's more certain information, lest the following pages should otherwise fail of giving any idea of what her character is meant to be, that her heart was affectionate; her disposition cheerful and open, without conceit or affectation of any kind--her manners just removed from the awkwardness and shyness of a girl; ...

5. Finally ...

She marries Henry Tilney. The Morlands are flattered and gratified, of course. And young Catherine, too. She succeeds in finding a very good match! And her fondness for him finally conquer Henry definitely. He actually doesn't seem so taken into it until he finally proposes. He is always very kind and generous but... doesn't look so passionately in love. However,  they get to marriage and even despite General Tilney's opposition.

Do you find more similarities or more differences between the two heroines? What traits of their personality do they share? I love them both but one of them MORE ... Which is your favourite one?

Now some  posts or articles about Northanger Abbey to enrich your analytical reading...

1. Northanger Abbey at Austenprose

2. Northanger Abbey and its Petulant Patriarch at JANE GS's Blog

3. Catherine Morland, her ancestor and her heiress at Fly High!

4. Catherine Morland and the Vice of the "Sympathetic Imagination" by Nicola Cummins

5. Irony and Political Education in Northanger Abbey  by Melissa Schaub

4. Gothic Austen ar Fly High!

And finally some answers to the questions I posted last time. Here are the first 10.
(from SO YOU THINK YOU KNOW JANE AUSTEN?, by John Sutherland and Deirdre Le Faye)

I / I What is Mr Morland's profession? How well off is he? What is the source of his wealth?
 Mr Morland is a country clergyman with two good livings (one of which, worth £400 a year, he plans to

give to his eldest son, James). He also has 'independent' wealth (in land, and the 'funds'—Isabella's fantasies magnify this wealth later in the narrative). He is sufficiently 'warm' to send his sons to school and university but is not, with such a large family, able (or inclined) to afford a governess for his daughters.

1/2 How many children do the Revd Mr and Mrs Morland have? How many of their Christian names do we know?
The Morlands have ten children. Catherine is 17 at the beginning of the narrative proper, 18 when she gets married. She has three older brothers. The eldest Morland son, at a putative 22, is James, the heir. Richard is a putative 20. A third son, unnamed, must be about 18. Early in the narrative Sarah ('Sally') is identified, aged 16. When Catherine returns to Fullerton at the end of the novel, we are briefly introduced to the two youngest of the family, George, aged 6, and Harriet who is just 4. There are three unnamed boys, between Sally and George. How do we know they are boys? Because they are away at school—an educational advantage denied the Morland girls.

1/3 What boisterous games does Catherine play as a girl?
Cricket and baseball. She also rides horses and, we are told, runs about the countryside. The influence of three older brothers, presumably. Had they been sisters it would have been dolls and gardening. The reference to both these manly sports has intrigued commentators. One ingenious Janeite has speculated that the author's interest in cricket was stimulated by the local, allconquering, Hambledon eleven and that 'We must assume that Jane was a Hampshire supporter'. 'Baseball' was, in the 1780s, more like 'rounders' than what the fans watch nowadays at  Dodger Stadium.

1/4 How many children do the rich Allens have?
None. He is, we gather from a number of references, a man of rather retiring tastes: she is a fashion-mad wife. They have no children, which may suggest that Mrs Allen's addiction to fashionable dress is a displacement neurosis, compounded by the boredom of living in the country.

1/5 How much money does Mr Morland give Catherine as her Bath allowance? What do we learn that she spends it on?
Mr Morland gives his daughter ten guineas. In the course of the novel we learn that Catherine spends her modest allowance on, inter alia: a sprigged muslin gown, a straw bonnet, and a new writing desk (the latter indicating a promising seriousness and indifference to the fashions which obsess Mrs Allen and Miss Thorpe).

1/6 How old is Henry Tilney?
seemed to be about four or five and twenty.' At the end of the novel we learn he is 25 at this point. In a marriage market, like Bath, these age calibrations are vital.

1/7 What is Henry's profession, and how does Catherine learn of it?
 He is a clergyman, but she does not learn this until later, after Mr Allen has made the guardian's discreet enquiries in the Lower Rooms. Mrs Allen learns a bit more about the wealthiness of the Tilneys from Mrs Hughes when they are in the Pump Room and walking in the Crescent, some days later. Clerics did not, at this period, have to wear clerical garb. See, for example, Mansfield Park, where Mary Crawford reminds herself that Edmund can look like any other young landed gent—'there is no distinction of dress nowadays'. Latitudinarian in his theology and mufti in his dress, Henry's vocation does not prevent  him dancing or hunting; at home in Woodston he is as much squire as parson. In Bath he is indistinguishable from other young gentlemen on the prowl for wives.

1/8 How much older than Catherine is Miss Thorpe' (that is, Isabella)?
Isabella is in her fourth (desperate) season as an unmarried woman at Bath. She is, presumably, 21; four years ahead of Catherine; a husband-hunter on the cusp of spinsterdom.

1/9 What is the first, and what the second, novel Catherine and Isabella read together?
Respectively, The Mysteries of Udolpho and The Italian. Both of these works by Mrs Radcliffe were hot off
the press—novels of 1796 and 1797 respectively. It is not clear that Catherine does read The Italian (Isabella has already done so). After a week, life at Bath becomes very busy for the young women.

1/10 How much did John Thorpe pay Freeman, of Christ Church, for his gig?
Fifty guineas. Around five times what Mr Morland gave Catherine as six weeks' allowance, and Sir Thomas Bertram gives Fanny Price as pocket money for her two months' punitive sojourn in Portsmouth. Did he squander this much of his mother's scarce wealth? Given what we know of John's grandiosity, he could be boasting, to display how rich he is: fifty guineas means nothing to him.