Brandon has a Byronic quality about him—a dark and brooding aspect. The term Byronic is derived from characters created by the Romantic poet Lord Byron. A Byronic character has much in common with the Romantic hero, except the former seems to be in a severe state of suffering, and he is extremely secretive about his past. He stands in opposition to the greed and vanity of his normative society, and there is always speculation that he is guilty of a crime. Colonel Brandon is intensely attracted to Marianne, but unfortunately at the moment the sentiment is not mutual.
Austen contrasts the dark Byronic quality of Brandon with the more classically Romantic appearance of John Willoughby, the nephew of one of the Middletons’ neighbors. Willoughby is a handsome and charismatic young man, much closer in age to Marianne than Brandon, and he is filled with all the youthful passion and energy that Marianne seeks. Austen creates Willoughby as the perfect gentleman, and he is possibly even more attractive to women in that, in line with the Romantic hero, he has a tinge of the rebel about him. And the manner in which he and Marianne meet is unparalleled for its Romantic drama. As a Romantic herself, Marianne is a lover of nature and likes to wander the countryside by herself in introspection. On this particular occasion, she is caught unawares by a fierce rainstorm. It strikes so unexpectedly and with such fury that she falls and injures her ankle. Austen has her become a damsel in distress, helpless. Somewhat predictably, and in concert with Austen’s Romantic satire, Willoughby shows up on horseback and rescues Marianne, delivering her back home to her stunned mother and sisters.
Over the coming weeks, Willoughby pays daily visits to the Dashwoods’ cottage, and initially he can do no wrong. In addition to being attractive and romantic, he proves himself to be highly educated and insightful in the arts. He and Marianne are practically inseparable—reading poetry, laughing, and falling in love. But just as fast as he earned the trust of the Dashwoods and the love of Marianne, in an instant he transitions from Romantic hero to villain. He begins to accomplish this metamorphosis when, during a picnic with the Dashwood family, he and Marianne disappear in his carriage for no explainable reason. Young, unmarried couples were never left unattended during this period in English history. A woman’s virtue before marriage could not be called into question; it was the most valuable attribute that she could possess at the altar. Losing her virtue would be scandalous, the ruin not only of the woman in question, but of her entire family. When Willoughby runs off with Marianne, Elinor and Mrs. Dashwood become frightened, and all sorts of questions are raised about Marianne’s propriety and honor. Additionally they wonder if Willoughby has proposed to Marianne. When the couple finally returns, it is discovered that they had gone off together to the house of Willoughby’s aunt, Mrs. Smith, but Marianne divulges little information to her family about what has occurred.
Even more scandalous is the fact that the very next day, Willoughby makes an early-morning visit to the Dashwood cottage, explains to Marianne that his aunt is sending him off to London on business for as long as a year, and makes a hasty departure. Marianne is hysterical and disbelieving. Over time, to the amazement of all, there is no word from him and no letters forthcoming. Willoughby’s heroic status has devolved into that of the antihero. The reader is not yet aware but will soon discover that Willoughby’s actions are entirely inspired by economics. In his world, as was most common in Austen’s materialistic day and age, money often supersedes love.
While Austen utilizes the trope of the Romantic hero/antihero in her depiction of Willoughby, she employs its antithesis when she invents the character of Edward Ferrars. Shortcomings aside, Willoughby is a classically masculine character, capable of sweeping a woman off her feet and carrying her to the altar. In contrast, Edward appears as somewhat emasculated. Austen proceeds with her Romantic satire when she portrays Edward’s propensity to awkwardness. He is indecisive, his thoughts and actions are ambiguous, physically he is clumsy, and at times he stutters when he speaks. His clumsiness is in part explained in that he is in a bind of sorts, but he is only partially forthcoming with the details. Part of his dilemma is that while he prefers the church as a prospective profession, his family disapproves, preferring instead a career in the army or the law for him. The other part of Edward’s dilemma is that he has strong feelings for Elinor, but he has been secretly engaged for the past four years to Lucy Steele, a cousin of Lady Middleton. The engagement has been kept a secret because the pair fears that Edward’s mother would never approve of the match.
And as for Lucy, she is a character Austen holds up for our ridicule. Lucy claims that her desire for Edward is based on true love, that money doesn’t matter, but it’s a lie. She is a materialist in a way that is not flattering in Austen’s world. For Lucy, like Willoughby, fortune supersedes true love.
As the winter months approach, Marianne and Elinor are resituated in London, where they spend time at the home of Mrs. Jennings. Spending all or part of the winter season in London or Bath was a common experience for young, eligible, and wealthy men and women of Austen’s time. The fact was that courting options for men and women were extremely limited outside of cities. And the primary goal of getting young people away from the countryside was to increase their chances of locating an eligible partner. The primary matchmaking event designed for the purpose of uniting prospective couples was the ball.
Upon arrival in London, Marianne still clings to the hope that she will soon to be reunited with Willoughby. She immediately writes to him, then does so again, and again, with no replies forthcoming. When the Dashwood women attend their first ball in town, Marianne finds out why Willoughby has been avoiding her; she discovers that Willoughby is engaged to a woman of high social standing named Miss Sophia Grey. Punctuating Willoughby’s materialistic agenda, word comes to Marianne and Elinor that Miss Grey is worth £50,000 (approximately $4,000,000). Indeed the “marriage market” is aptly named. Willoughby’s claim to Marianne that he was on business for his aunt in London was partially true; he was hunting for a rich bride, and he found one.
Colonel Brandon becomes a much more significant character at this point in the narrative because he holds the key to understanding Willoughby’s strange and unpredictable behavior. Austen accentuates Brandon’s Byronic qualities as she has him reveal to Elinor details about his dark, mysterious, and painful past. Brandon was the second son in his landed family. Following the rules of the system of primogeniture, first sons inherited everything, and second sons had to make their own ways in the world—in the military, the professions, or in colonial endeavors. Presumably Brandon has outlived his older brother and therefore, during the time that the novel takes place, he has taken possession of Delaford, his family’s landed estate. When growing up, Brandon’s father had taken in an orphan girl by the name of Eliza, who was of the same age as Brandon. They fell in love. Brandon equates the passionate feelings they shared for one another with Marianne’s feelings for Willoughby. At seventeen, Brandon’s father married off Eliza to Brandon’s older brother, who cared little for her. Brandon was sick about it and planned an elopement with Eliza, but a servant revealed their plans and they were stopped. Later while Brandon was in the East Indies serving in the army, Eliza and Brandon’s brother divorced when Eliza’s infidelity was discovered. When Brandon returned from the East, he found her after searching for six months. Sickly, she was in a debtor’s prison and died soon after. Brandon tells Elinor that Marianne resembles Eliza, in part explaining Brandon’s strong feelings for Marianne. Brandon then relates that Eliza has a three-year-old child, the product of an affair. The child was also named Eliza, and Brandon placed her in school and cared for her. When she was fifteen, she disappeared. Brandon eventually discovered that Willoughby had seduced, impregnated, and abandoned her. He had taken her virtue and ruined her for life. Brandon rescued the younger Eliza and placed her and her baby in a safe place in the country.
Presented with the truth about Willoughby, Marianne reacts with incredulity, and her disposition remains dark
and brooding. Her response underscores once again the difference between Elinor’s sense and Marianne’s sensibility. Mrs. Dashwood proposes that they all leave London so as to protect Marianne from the possibility of again running into Willoughby, but plans change when the Dashwoods receive news that Edward will soon be arriving in town. To her credit, Marianne accepts the discomfort she feels and takes joy in the fact that Elinor will have the opportunity to see Edward. As Marianne begins to accept news of Willoughby’s new marriage, we do see that she is beginning to recognize and appreciate Brandon.
Before she sees Edward, Elinor has a chance meeting with her stepbrother, John Dashwood. In this exchange, Austen continues to emphasize her society’s propensity for petty materialism. John is under the impression that Colonel Brandon has taken an interest in her. Showing this society’s obsession with wealth and prestige, Austen has John ask immediately about Brandon’s fortune, as if that is the only detail that matters. When he learns that it is substantial, he instructs Elinor about ways she can compensate for her main drawback—her lack of fortune; clearly John is feeling guilty for ignoring his father’s death-bed wish to provide for his stepsisters. For Austen, John Dashwood is a another character deserving of ridicule. His obsession with wealth, prestige, rank, and appearances is not to be admired by the Austen reader. We can almost hear Austen scolding John for his shallow, narrow-minded views.
Elaborating on the shallow materialism of her society, Austen has Elinor’s conversation with John transition to marriages, or specifically marriages that are engineered or arranged between families for reasons that involve money, power, and prestige. We have already seen how Willoughby’s temptation for a wealthy bride superseded his desire for true love. Now Elinor learns that John’s brother-in-law, Edward Ferrars, may be pushed into an arranged marriage of sorts with a Miss Morton, who John is clear to point out is worth £30,000 (approximately $2,500,000). As a strategy for bribing Edward out of his engagement with Lucy Steele, Edward’s mother has offered the prospective couple the sum of £1,000 a year (approximately $80,000) if Edward will consent to the match. Edward wants nothing to do with it. He may be awkward and somewhat emasculated when compared with the hyper-masculine Willoughby, but by resisting these monetary temptations, Austen is showing the superficiality of his family and (by contrast) Edward’s substance as an honorable man hoping to marry for true love and not money. Edward has deep feelings for Elinor, but cannot ignore his four-year-old commitment to Lucy. He is also victim to the hostility he feels emanating from his own family about a match with either one of these un-monied women. For the time being he is stuck, ineffective, and ill at ease.
The time soon comes, however, when Edward is forced into action. That is, his family discovers that he is engaged to Lucy Steele. News travels quickly to Mrs. Ferrars, who threatens to disinherit Edward in favor of his younger brother Robert if he does not break off the engagement at once. Mrs. Ferrars’ threat is more evidence of the economic climate in which these characters exist. Since Edward is the eldest brother, he, according to the laws of primogeniture, stands to be the primary recipient of his family’s inheritance. To forgo that valuable prize for the sake of true love is not an easy decision. Life without money was not a pleasant reality in this materialistic culture. And taking that one step further, Edward is even prepared to forgo both money and love in order to honor his commitment to Lucy. Elinor and Marianne are obviously devastated and even go so far as to call Edward a “second Willoughby”; however, understanding his bind, they have sympathy for the honorable stand Edward is taking in opposition to his family’s pressure.
When Colonel Brandon learns about Edward’s misfortunes, he too is sympathetic. Edward’s situation must remind Brandon of his own struggle between family obligation and the attainment of true love. So much so that Brandon asks Elinor to inform Edward that if he’s interested, he could have the clergy position at Delaford (Brandon’s estate). The living is modest and not enough to support a family, but Brandon’s intention is to help Edward until he is able to improve his situation. Elinor is elated about Brandon’s offer. Although many of Austen’s characters would look down upon a low-paying clergy position, Elinor (and later Edward) shows her depth of feeling and lack of superficiality and materialism in that she views the option of taking orders and serving the church to be honorable. This makes good sense to the Austen reader when we remember that Austen’s father and brother both had rewarding careers as clergymen. When Elinor reports the good news, Edward is ecstatic. Over and over we see what selfless and giving people Elinor and Brandon are, and what an honorable character Edward is.
As winter comes to an end, the Dashwoods get ready to depart from Mrs. Jennings’ estate in London and make their way to the cottage at Barton. On their way they plan to stop at Cleveland, the home of Mr. and Mrs. Palmer (Charlotte Palmer is Mrs. Jennings’ daughter). When they arrive, Marianne is once again overtaken by her sensibility and state of melancholy. She is unable to stop thinking about Willoughby. Now out of the city she is eager to reconnect with nature, and again, in her Romantic state of mind, she wanders the pathways and gardens of Cleveland. She likely wants to recreate aspects of her isolated walks at Barton when she first met Willoughby. By the fourth night of their visit, Marianne comes down with a bad cold after walking the wet grounds at twilight. Her condition is poor and deteriorates rapidly. She suffers intensely, struggling with extreme bouts of fever. Elinor and the doctor entertain the possibility that Marianne might not recover from her illness.
Just at the point when Marianne seems to be taking a turn for the better, Willoughby shows up in terrible condition; he is drunk, distraught, and worried about Marianne. At this crucial stage in the narrative, Austen is driving home an important point about personal morality. Essentially she is telling the reader to be true to one’s own heart, and she reminds us of the consequences in choosing money over love. Willoughby has been miserable as a result of his marriage for money. And beyond his lack of enthusiasm for his new wife, he is also wracked by extreme guilt for his abandonment of Marianne. His ambition is to explain himself to Elinor—to have her understand his circumstances, so he won’t be hated by the Dashwood women. Over the course of several pages, Willoughby iterates that he truly loves Marianne, but after his seduction of Miss Eliza Williams (the ward of Colonel Brandon, who bore Willoughby an illegitimate daughter), he was disinherited by his benefactress, Mrs. Smith. Therefore, he justifies his action of abandoning Marianne so that he can be well situated financially by marrying the monied Sophia Grey. Elinor hears him out and has some sense of sympathy. Among other revelations, we discover that Willoughby had not been aloof in London, but rather was obsessively spying on Marianne and Elinor. Willoughby confesses that his marriage was not for love and that he and Sophia Grey are unhappy. He implores Elinor to tell Marianne of his misery and that he has never stopped loving her. Elinor contemplates Willoughby’s actions and delivers one of the novel’s primary moral messages. To wit: Elinor’s assessment of Willoughby is something we might read in a conduct manual. Austen has Elinor criticize not only Willoughby’s actions, but also the greedy society that created him.
“The world had made him extravagant and vain— Extravagance and vanity had made him cold-hearted and selfish. Vanity, while seeking its own guilty triumph at the expense of another, had involved him in a real attachment, which extravagance, or at least its offspring, necessity, had required to be sacrificed. Each faulty propensity in leading him to evil, had led him likewise to punishment.”
In Sense and Sensibility, we view a marked contrast between characters that behave badly and defy their own hearts, and those characters like Edward and Brandon who struggle to do the right thing. Where Willoughby was a scoundrel, Brandon and Edward are true friends to the Dashwoods, men who do not talk about good deeds, but put them into action. They both provide a true and solid foundational kind of presence in the lives of these women. Brandon has not wavered one bit in his love for Marianne or his devotion t
o the family—even as he has suffered in his personal life. And likewise, Edward’s behavior in honoring his previous commitment to Lucy—even when he is tempted by both his true love for Elinor and the financial arrangement proposed by his mother—is admirable.
Marianne makes a strong recovery from her illness, and acknowledges that she put herself in physical danger as a result of her depression about Willoughby. Her “sensibility” was too extreme. Her understanding of this is accompanied by the realization that she needs to practice and attain the “sense” that Elinor so powerfully possesses and exercises with consistency. Austen positions the relationship between Elinor and Marianne as one between mentor and mentee. While her goals are not what we would recognize as those of modern-day feminists, Marianne is determined to improve herself and strengthen her personal fortitude. Her growing understanding that there is no gain to be had in feeling self-loathing upon a failure of love is a moment of note for women in fiction.
Jane Austen For Beginners Page 4