Saturday, October 4, 2014

What makes Lucy Steele an "Anti-Heroine"?

Lucy Steele is a perfect example of an Austen anti-heroine. After first meeting Lucy, Elinor’s opinion of her is not favorable: Lucy is “ignorant and illiterate,” a flatterer, and a woman without personal integrity (118). Soon after meeting Elinor, Lucy shares that she is secretly engaged to Mr. Edward Farrars, not knowing that Elinor is in love with Edward as well, and he with her.
"We have been engaged these four years." (source) 


While there is nothing inherently wrong with Lucy’s having a prior claim on Edward or the fact that she is “ignorant and illiterate,” the real reason as to why Lucy emerges as an anti-heroine is for the spiteful way she treats Elinor and because she ultimately chooses money over love when she marries.
"She could have no doubt of it being Edward's face" (source).
 Although Austen does not explicitly write this into the plot, it can easily be deduced that Lucy breaks her engagement with Edward when his mother disinherits him (for continuing his engagement to her, no less!). Lucy’s “affection” is quickly transferred to Edward’s younger brother, Robert, who is now the heir of the Farrars’ fortune.
"She introduced him to her as Mrs. Robert Ferrars" (source)
Her love for Edward was contingent upon his fortune; Elinor, on the other hand, truly loves Edward for who he is, not for the money he has. This attitude is seen in all of Austen heroines, and reflects Austen’s own opinions regarding marrying for money.

Austen often gave advice to her niece, Fanny, on these issues. As a wise aunt, she was practical enough to remark to Fanny that “[s]ingle Women have a dreadful propensity for being poor—which is one very strong argument in favour of Matrimony” (Letters 483), yet Austen never advised her niece to marry for money, and likewise, none of her heroines marry out of financial desperation, or even worse, greed.

Marriage should be built on a foundation of love, Austen believed, and charged her niece to remember that “[a]nything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without Affection” (Austen-Leigh 197). Many of Austen’s leading ladies marry wealthy men, but they would never many a man simply because he is rich (Delman, 5 June 2010), nor break an engagement because he becomes suddenly poor.

A tell-tale sign of an anti-heroine is a girl who desires to make a mercenary marriage: With a heart fixed on money instead of love, the inner character of such a girl is usually morally astray, as clearly seen in Lucy Steele.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

For Love or Money: The shock and logic of Willoughby's betrayal

 We have just finished reading chapters 21-30 of Sense and Sensibility (or, in my version of the book, the last two chapters of Volume 1 and the first 8 chapters of Volume 2).

By the end of this section, Marianne's suffering is heart-rending. Elinor's heart is also broken for her sister.

"Elinor drew near, but without say a word; and seating herself on the bed, took her hand, kissed her affectionately several times, and then gave way to a burst of tears, which at first was scarcely less violent than Marianne's. The latter, though unable to speak, seems to feel all the tenderness of this behavior, and after some time thus spend in joint affliction, she put all the letters into Elinor's hands; and then covering her face with her handkerchief, almost screamed in agony." (Vol. 2 Chap 5). 
Source for Illustration
 The real question is WHY??? Why did Willoughby abandon Marianne? 

Elinor sums up his actions succinctly:

"But have you likewise heard that Miss Gray has fifty thousand pounds? In that, if in anything, we may find an explanation." (Vol. 2 Chap. 8). 

And we despise Willoughby for this, for choosing money over his love for Marianne. This is a classic theme in literature, especially Austen's writing, where money is a key factor in choosing a spouse (remember Charlotte in Pride and Prejudice?). 

While we may accept this as a tried-and-true trope, it is slightly baffling to our 21 century American understanding.

Why did Willoughby, for all his seemingly sincere feelings for Marianne, give her up so easily for the "jackpot" of a fifty thousand pound bride? 
Why couldn't Willoughby just get a job and support himself and Marianne? 
How did money work for a gentleman in Austen's day and age? 

Here is a (very) brief history lesson about the way money worked (or didn't work) for the Regency Gentleman: 

Willoughby, as a gentleman, received his income from his family. The landed gentry (where we get the term "gentleman") in England were wealthy because they owned land. 

If they managed their property well, they received a substantial income by leasing their land for farming and housing to tenants. This income, supplied by sales of crops and collected rent, often made these land-owners extremely wealthy. This wealth was then passed down from fathers to sons, or to daughters in the way of a hefty dowry. 

Sometimes, an uncle or aunt would take a nephew under his/her wing and make this nephew the heir to the family fortune (One of Jane Austen's brother was actually adopted by his uncle for this reason. Nice for him, right? But in a modern context, this is really strange, don't you think?). 

Willoughby is apparently the heir to his aunt's fortune. While his aunt lived, he would get an allowance, of sorts, to live on. After his aunt's death, he would become the heir to Allanham, her estate, and all the responsibilities that came with running that estate. 

His "allowance" was probably very generous, allowing Willoughby to live a life of pleasure, pursuing hobbies such as hunting and socializing (and pursuing young ladies? hmm?).

However, as we learn from this chapter, Willoughby has many debts and is essentially broke. At this point in the book, we can assume that he gave up his attachment for Marianne because she would not bring enough money to the marriage to either pay for the debts or support his lifestyle or their future life together. 

Sad, right? But Willoughby seemed to make a logical, if despicable, decision. 

But, wait! What about the fact that he is the heir of Allanham? Won't he still inherit after his aunt passes away? Couldn't he have just waited? We know Marianne would have!

I don't want to give away any spoilers for those of have not finished the book, but we will find out why waiting until he inherited Allanham was not an option for Willoughby. I don't think we will like him any better after finding out the reason why. 

So, Willoughby abandons Marianne for fifty thousand pounds, all because he is a spend-thrift, thinking more about his current pleasures than his future happiness. Perhaps, we wish, like Mrs. Jennings vehmently does, 

"I wish with all my soul his wife may plague his heart out."

What do you think? 
Does understanding the way money worked in Regency England make Willoughby's actions less reprehensible? 
Did he have any other options? 
Did anyone catch Mrs. Jenning's practical financial suggestions for Willoughby in Vol. 2 Chapter 8?

Friday, September 12, 2014

Mourning Lost Love: What's your style?


When I was a teenager, I had a crush on a boy. Wait, it was not a "crush." I was in love with this boy, like "Marianne Loves Willoughby."

But, my feelings for "the boy" had to be expressed like "Elinor Loves Edward."

(Which begs the question, did Elinor love Edward as much as Marianne loved Willoughby? Hmmm...)

But back to my teenage love-life (ha!): Romantic expression was not encouraged (or really allowed) in my teenage world so I had to pine in secret, only confessing my heart in secret whispers to my sisters, and best friends during slumber parties.

At times, I was sure that "the boy" liked me as well. But then he would do horrible, frustrating things (like ignore me at parties! Pish!) that made me question..."Does he really like me?"

Oh, Elinor. I get you.

However, a couple years passed, and my feelings were eventually 100%  confirmed and returned by "the boy" (though not publicly!). I was wildly (though privately!) happy.

But then...he did something that really and truly broke my heart. Really and truly.

I wished I could have mourned the way Marianne did in Chapter 16, publicly and miserably:


Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby…she was awake the whole night, and she wept the greatest part of it. She got up with a headache, was unable to talk, and unwilling to take any nourishment; giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters, and forbidding all attempt at consolation from either. Her sensibility was potent enough!



When breakfast was over she walked out by herself…indulging in the recollections of past enjoyment and crying over the present reverse…



She played over every favorite song that she had been used to play to Willoughby, every air in which their voices had oftenest joined…She read nothing but what they had used to read together. 

My sensibility was "potent enough" too! But I could not publicly mourn my broken heart. My "relationship" with "the boy" was really quite tenuous and the cause of my heartache was not information that could or should be shared with others. 

So, I mourned like Elinor: 

Elinor’s feelings . . . required some trouble and time to subdue. But as it was her determination to subdue it, and to prevent herself from appearing to suffering more than what all her family suffered on his going away, she did not adopt the method so judiciously employed by Marianne on a similar occasion to augment and fix her sorrow by seeking silence, solitude, and idleness...



Elinor sat down to her drawing-table as soon as he was out of the house, busily employed herself the whole day, neither sought nor avoided the mention of his name, appeared to interest herself almost as much as ever in the general concerns of the family; and if by this conduct she did not lesson her own grief, it was at least presented from unnecessary increase, and her mother and sisters were spared much solicitude on her account. 

Both Elinor and Marianne (and me!) experienced intense love...and loss.  Both sisters grieve in different ways. But, although Elinor and Marianne have the right to grieve in their own separate ways, I think that both suffer or cause others to suffer in ways that could have been prevented. 

In my case, discussing my broken heart with someone older and wiser than me could have given me valuable insight into my "relationship" (if I could even call it that).

So...Let's Talk about it:

What do you think about the ways Marianne and Elinor grieve their broken hearts? 

While both method fit their personalities, how could their emotional expression (or lack thereof) have been more mature? 

Have you ever had a broken heart? Did you grieve like Marianne or Elinor? Or...a combination of both? 

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Money, Family, and the Middle Way: Themes to consider


As we start Week 2 of Sense and Sensibility, I wanted to highlight some themes that I've noticed in the first ten chapters. 
Theme One: Money 
Fast Facts:  
Norland Estate (where the Dashwood daughters grew up) would be worth $18 million today
1000 pounds for each Dashwood daughter will inherit would  equal to $250,000 today. (WOW!)

Money is a key theme in S&S (as it is in most of Austen's novels). Elinor and Marianne's chances of securing a wealthy husband are reduced because neither one of them is an heiress to a large fortune (and 1000 pounds was NOT a large fortune in those days!). 

Edward, who IS the heir to his family fortune, is not in control of his financial present or future, especially in his choice of a wife...all because of his mother's firm grip on his money: 

“Edward Ferrars was the eldest son…the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother.” 

And most significantly at the beginning of the novel, money is the reason that Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters have to move away from Norland Estate. The way that her stepson and daughter-in-law treat Mrs. Dashwood financially is just despicable, don't you think? 
Source for Illustrations
 Fanny: “Indeed, to say the truth, I am convinced within my self that your father had no idea of your giving them any money at all…looking out for a comfortable small house for them, helping them to move their things, and sending them presents of fish and game…I’ll lay my life that he meant nothing further; indeed, it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did.”

What other characters and situations have you observed that are highly influenced by the need or love of money?

Theme Two: Family

I really believe that the first sentence of a novel can be a key to understanding major themes found within. Sense and Sensibility is no exception! 


The first sentence reads:
“The family of Dashwood had long settled in Sussex.” 

Family is a key theme in S&S. Ironically, the Dashwood's are torn from their family home in the first few chapters. Then emotionally, the family starts to grow apart as Marianne and Elinor both suffer in their very different ways. Later, we see the family separated through travel and even illness. However, this family is not destined to be torn apart forever. Keep reading...! 
Another key issue of family found in the very beginning is how family should care for each other. In the quote above, John and Fanny try to find every possible loop-hole for getting out of taking care of their female relatives.
In contrast, Sir John, a distant cousin, displays true family love and duty to the Dashwood women.


Sir John: “In showing kindness to his cousins, therefore, he had the real satisfaction of a good heart” 

What other contrasts of family love or duty do you see? 

Theme Three: The Middle Way

We have already defined and discussed "Sense" and "Sensibility;" Austen definitely explores the "middle way" between these two ideals in her writing. 

The author of the introduction to my novel writes, “Our guide to the middle ground is to be the precociously wise Elinor, who at nineteen is everything that Mrs. Dashwood and Marianne are not” (Drabble x). 

While I agree with this statement in one sense, I think that Elinor also must go a journey to find her own "middle way."


Marianne has this censure of Elinor's character: 
“Even now her self-command is invariable. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?” 

Marianne wonders if her sister truly feels. Elinor has self-control, yes. But she doesn't allow others to see her pain, suffering, or even, at times, her love. I think Marianne is not the only sister who has personal growth to accomplish.

Another dichotomy we see in the novel is Marianne's struggle. My introduction states that it is the conflict between "emotion and control."

“It is in the portrayal of Marianne’s sufferings, however, that we reach the heart of the novel’s power and find ourselves face to face with the conflict between emotion and control” (Drabble xiii-xiv). 

What do you think? Do both sisters need to fine a "middle way" in their personal growth? 
What do you think this "middle way" will look like for Elinor? For Marianne? 
Who needs to grow the most? 

 So, here are three strong themes that I've observed in the opening chapters. 
What thematic patterns to you see? 
Let's discuss them here or in the Facebook group!

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Meet the Heroes: Edward, Colonel Brandon, and Willoughby


Confession : if I had to choose between Edward, Brandon, and Willoughby, I'd totally crush on Willoughby.

I know, I know. He's really a bad boy at heart but...he really is the most interesting, handsome, modern, and age appropriate man available. I really don't blame Marianne at all for losing her heart to him. 

Let's compare Heroes in Sense and Sensibility:

Here's how Austen describes Edward in the opening chapters:
 “Edward Ferrars was the eldest son…the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother.” (Chap. 3) (Buck up, man! Stand up to your mama!)

“He was not handsome, and his manners required intimacy to make them pleasing…his behavior gave every indication of an open affectionate heart. His understanding was good, and his education had given it solid improvement.” (Chap. 3)
Edward (Hugh Grant) 1995
As far as handsome goes, I think that they cast Hugh Grant pretty well as Edward (I'm sure my taste is not universal though).


Edward 2008, BBC
But casting Dan Stevens (aka Matthew from Downton Abbey) as the "not handsome" Edward? umm....I think if I was Elinor, I'd do a double take if he came strolling into Norland Estate.

Edward is  a little boring on the page, though. He isn't wild or dashing or mysteriously elusive or  particularly romantic. After all, Austen writes that--

“All his wishes centered in domestic comfort and the quiet of private life.” (Chap. 3)


Colonel Brandon is a bit more mysterious, and therefore intriguing. But (sigh) he seems so OLD.

“Colonel Brandon…was silent and grave. His appearance however was not unpleasing, in spite of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old bachelor…his face was not handsome, his countenance sensible, and his address was particularly gentlemanlike.” (Chap. 7)
Brandon, 2008 BBC
I can't help it. Marianne really influences my thinking of Brandon, even though I want to be more like Elinor and give Brandon a fighting chance.

However, however...Brandon has some very good qualities. He has genuinely developed sensibility, a virtue that Marianne reluctantly respects. While Marianne plays the piano,

“Colonel Brandon alone…paid her only the compliment of attention.” (Chap. 7)

Though later, under the persuasion of Willoughby's opinion, she says,


 “[Colonel Brandon] has neither genius, taste, nor spirit. That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no ardor, and his voice no expression.” (Chap. 10)

Elinor, on the other hand, thinks that Brandon is "a sensible man, well-bred, well-informed, and of gentle address, and I believe possessing an amiable heart.” (Chap. 10)
Brandon (Alan Rickman aka SNAPE!) 1995
 You go, girl. Way to see past the fact that he is only 5 years younger than your mother and wears a flannel waistcoat. 

And then we come....to Willoughby. Oh, Willoughby. You seem so perfect when we first meet you! After all, you are...
"uncommonly handsome"
"so frank and so graceful"
Your name is "good"
You live in the Dashwood's "favorite village"
You dress in "a shooting jacket [that is] most becoming" (Chap. 9)
Willoughby, 2008 BBC
Even the narrator describes you like this:

“Willoughby was a young man of good abilities, quick imagination, lively spirits, and open, affectionate manners. He was exactly formed to engaged Marianne’s heart, for with all this, he joined not only a captivating person, but a natural ardor of mind which was now roused and increased by the example of her own, and which recommended him to her affection beyond everything else.” (Chap. 10)

No wonder Marianne is head over heels for you in a matter of days!
However, however... Elinor feels some caution when she thinks about you

“…he displayed a want of caution which Elinor could not approve in spite of all that he and Marianne could say in its support." (Chap. 10)

Let us heed Elinor's caution, dear readers, as foreshadowing into Willoughby's character. So sad. He seems so perfect, doesn't he? 

Let's Talk about it: 
Which hero do you admire the most in chapters 1-10: Edward, Brandon, or Willoughby (be honest!)?
Which qualities do you admire in the "hero" in your life? Do they match any of the qualities Austen attributes to her heroes?

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Meet the Heroines: Elinor and Marianne


 Elinor and Marianne are as delightful and different as two sisters can be. I should know: I have 3 sisters. 
My younger sister and I were complete opposites growing up.
She was a tom-boy. I was the girliest girl of us all.
She crawled under the porch and stirred up a nest of yellow jackets. I played inside with my miniature tea sets and paper dolls.
She was an amazing athlete; I couldn't hit, catch, or kick a ball to save my life.

But we did have some things in common, especially now that we are adults. We both love to laugh. We both are the mothers of sons. We both love fiercely.

Elinor and Marianne are much the same. Their difference can easily be pointed out, as the introduction to my novel states:


“Elinor and Marianne are carefully contrasted, in their attitudes to men, poetry, painting and prudence, in their conception of love and their discretions or indiscretions of speech” (Drabble x). 

One of the primary ways the sisters differ is in their emotional expression (a facet of Sensibility). When discussing Elinor's feelings for Edward, Marianne hopes to tease a confession of love from her sister. She cannot believe that Elinor will not even admit that she has "a crush:"

“I do not attempt to deny,” [Elinor] said, “that I think very highly of them—that I greatly esteem him, that I like him.”
Marianne here burst forth with indignation—
“Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor!”

This clash of emotional expression will provide us with much more conflict (can you say "drama"?) in future chapters. Stay tuned...

However, these sisters do have much in common as well. They are both beautiful (though Marianne outshines her older sister just a bit):
Elinor (Emma Thompson) 1995
 "[Elinor] had a very delicate complexion, regular features, and a remarkably pretty figure. Marianne was still handsomer. Her form . . . was more striking; and her face was so lovely, that . . . she was called a beautiful girl . . . 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, and eagerness which could hardly be seen without delight" (Chapter 10).
Marianne (Kate Winslet) 1995
Also, surprisingly, Elinor and Marianne both possess "sense" and "sensibility." We often categorize Elinor as Sense and Marianne and Sensibility but Austen doesn't place the girls in these rigid boxes. In Chapter one, she describes each heroine this way: 
“Elinor, the eldest daughter whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding and coolness of judgment which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counselor of her mother….she has an excellent heart; her disposition was affectionate and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them.”

“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.”


Of course, the key quote for Elinor is that "she knew how to govern" her feelings. We often see this as a strength, but...perhaps not. As we move through the novel, look for instances where Elinor's extreme self-control may be a detriment to her. 
Elinor 2008 BBC
 For Marianne, her key quote lies at the end of Austen's description: "she was everything but prudent." 

To me, Marianne just seems very, very young. I love this exchange she has with her mother in Chapter 3:

Marianne: “Mama, the more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love.”

Mrs. Dashwood: “Remember, my love, that you are not seventeen.”
Marianne 2008 BBC
Can't you just hear Mrs. Dashwood's dry tone? I love it. Classic Austen.

Compared to Marianne (and, let's be honest. We just can't help but compare them), Elinor seems like an old soul, all most too self-composed. Does anyone else want to see Elinor's polished exterior crack just a little bit? Marianne feels the same way:


“Even how her self-command is invariable. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?” (Chapter 8).

Personally, I feel like I am more like Elinor in her self-control and emotional fortitude but I truly admire Marianne's unreserved emotional nature, how she seems to embrace life and love, and how she clings to her ideals and dreams with passion. 




Let's Talk about It (post your thoughts to one or more of these questions below or on the FB group): What  are your initial thoughts on Elinor and Marianne? 
Who do you relate to the most? 
Who would you like to be friends with? 
Who would you like to be? Do you find yourself, like me, relating to one heroine but wishing you were like the other?

We'll continue to get to know these two leading ladies as the novel progresses!

PS: Have you watched the two video versions of S&S? Though I have seen both the 1995 and the 2008 versions, the BBC mini-series is my favorite!

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Sense vs. Sensibility


 The first time I read Sense and Sensibility I though, "Huh...isn't that title, like...kind of redundant?" (I was in my teens. Forgive the "like"). In our modern-day language, someone who is "sensible" is thought to have a lot of....well, common sense. 

I didn't get it. 

Probably because the definition of "sensibility" was very different in Austen's day. Understanding this definition is key to understanding the major themes and plot of the novel though so...here we go. 

A Short Lesson on "Sense" and "Sensibility"

The meaning of "sense" hasn't changed much over the last 200 years (the application, however, is an entirely different story, of course!)

Sense: Reason, clear thinking, logic, etc. 

In considering "sense" let's dive into a (very short!) history lesson. Austen wrote Sense and Sensibility on the tail end of an era we now call "The Enlightenment." This was an age that, in a nutshell, highly valued the human mind and the ability of man to reason, deduce, figure out the mysteries of the universe, etc. by LOGIC and REASON! Huzzah! 

[End history lesson]

Of course, every era has its pendulum swingers, those who push against the status-quo. All this focus on the reason, logic, and well, sense, caused some to cry out, "But the mind isn't the only thing that matters!! What about feelings? What about the heart?"

And somewhere along this line of thought, the  “cult of sensibility” was born (Drabble v). 

Sensibility became a fashionable inner "virtue" to cultivate in one's heart and life. One author defines this virtue as a "“sensitivity to life and art” (ApRoberts 361), which we see when Marianne disparages Edward of having any "real taste" when it comes to admiring Elinor's artwork. 
Source for Illustrations
 What Marianne is really saying is that "Sigh. Edward has no sensibility."

However, sensibility as a virtue went beyond proper admiration for good art. It has also been defined as "Moral Sympathy" towards people and events (ApRobert 354).

Elinor and Marianne both process moral sympathy toward others in that they both allow themselves to feel what others feel and are sensitive to the needs and feelings of their family, friends, and, yes, even enemies (keep reading...Lucy Steele, anyone?).

A character that lacks moral sympathy is Mrs. Jennings, who teases the girls about their beaux even when it is obvious that they are uncomfortable and mortified by this type of talk. 

 Sensibility, if cultivated properly, was the ability to genuinely feel, “first for ourselves, and then, with good hope, for others” (ApRoberts 364): the ability to sympathize and empathize by expressing your own emotions first in order to then understand the emotions of others.

Not a bad virtue overall, right? Interestingly, both sisters express sensibility differently throughout the novel. 

Let's Talk about it:

-What are some ways that Marianne shows true sensibility?  
-Even though Elinor is more emotionally reserved, how does she show true sensibility in how she expresses herself and how she interacts with others?

Sources:

ApRoberts, Ruth. “Sense and Sensibility, or Growing Up Dichotomous.”
Nineteenth-Century Fiction. 30. 3 (1975): 351-365. JSTOR. 19 October 2009.
Drabble, Margaret. "Introduction." Sense and Sensibility. By Jane Austen. 1811. London: Signet   Classics, 2008. Print.