Not Sense, Not Sensibility

Not Sense, Not Sensibility

Amos Adams

Blog Post #2  

Though the very title of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility sets characters up for strict dichotomization, falling into the notion that some characters solely represent sense and some solely represent sensibility can have the effect of making the text less dynamic, by means of flattening its main characters.

            The easiest way to illustrate this point is by pointing to the obvious dichotomy between Marianne and Elinor.  The first time this supposed binary is painted for us is on page 8, though a number of paragraphs.  Because so often, again, we distill these two characters to two words, I will distill the nuances of these paragraphs into two sentences.  For Elinor: “…this eldest daughter whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, and a coolness of judgment…”  And for Marianne: “she was sensible and clever; but eager in everything; her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation.”  By these two lines, yes, Elinor is sense and Marianne, sensibility.  But this ignores other sentences that fall in the same paragraphs.   Namely: “Marianne’s abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor’s,” and “[Elinor] had an excellent heart;--her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them…”

            Both of those above-mentioned sentences should serve to bring both girls somewhere in the middle of this absurd spectrum—sense on one side, sensibility on the other.

            I bring this point up not because I think it is something new or particularly insightful, no, rather the opposite.  I think that, because it is so up front in the text, the point is often missed.  It should be a fundamental understanding of the text that sense and sensibility are not, as some dissections seem to suggest, opposites, but rather a part of one whole.  Too much sense is detrimental to being human (I would argue that possibly the strongest display of too much sense also comes right at the forefront of the novel, when Fanny convinces John to skimp on giving money to the Dashwood women: “Consider, that when the money is once parted with, it never can return” (10)), and too much sensibility may result in downfall as well (how many times must characters fall head over heels before they learn to love in moderation?) 

            Thus, I think that the title, along with the dichotomy as a whole, should been taken as sometime akin to satire.  As Austen is a wonderful realist (creating whole, believable characters who seem to resemble real people) it would be impossible for her to create one character who stands for sense, one character who stands for sensibility.  I would argue that the satire plays on the patriarchy so rigidly in place at the time.  It is men who have the power (the inciting incident of this novel—inheritance of the manor by John—plays directly on that), and this power not only includes wealth, but the power to gives titles, roles, stereotypes to women.  By titling her book this way, Austen appeals to this notion, yes, let the men think we women are all just stereotypes of one kind or another, and then she decides to thoroughly break it: no, one is not sense, the other not sensibility—fine, they have those qualities.  What they are is human.  Deep and conflicted like the rest of us.   I would think that the fact that this book is still regularly analyzed with a dichotomy rather than a spectrum in mind further continues Austen’s satire.  For, even today, who represents the majority of literary critics?  Men.  The joke is on us.