June 2023 meeting: Travel in Jane Austen’s novels

Prepared by member Anna.

Our June meeting was smatter than usual, with numerous apologies coming in for the day. However, a reduced, enthusiastic group, fuelled by Maltesers supplied by one of our number, discussed various aspects of travel in Jane Austen’s novels.

Members were asked to focus on one novel in their contributions.

We began by discussing the difference between a journey and the modern concept of travel as recreation. As there are only 2 real instances of holiday travel, ie The Gardiners and Lizzie in Derbyshire in Pride and Prejudice and the party to Lyme Regis in Persuasion, we decided on a broader definition to encompass journeys.

An absent member provided some information from the Adkins’ book, Jane Austen’s England, in which they discusses the types if travel available to everyone – rich to poor – at the time.  They argue that during Jane Austen time travelling became a bit easier than it had been a century before, and name various methods of travel characters use during her novels: walking, riding horses, carriage, stage coach and post-chaises, and of course ships and boats. Several of these forms appear in Sense and sensibility.

Overall, though, we agreed found that fact travel was so tedious, dangerous and expensive that the majority of people travelled no further than 14 miles from home.

One member referencing Sense and Sensibility said that Austen highlights the reality of this with Mrs Dashwood having to sell her carriage, and the impractical suggestion of Willoughby to gift Marianne a horse given their reduced circumstances.

Despite the obvious expense, there are 49 mentions of movement from one place to another and 46 mentions of carriages in Sense and Sensibility, noting how ludicrous is the idea that nothing happens in Jane Austen’s novels.

The changes of location in the novel have a significant impact on the characters.  The Dashwoods move to the country and Barton Cottage, Marianne’s realisation in London that Willoughby has betrayed her, Edward Ferrar’s decision that he prefers country life to the city life promoted by his mother and Marianne’s fateful walk at Cleveland, which almost results in her death.

Another member also considered the impact of travel on characters in Sense and Sensibility. Travel meant not only moving from one place to another but characters having to move out of their comfort zone and confront aspects which are physically and emotionally challenging.

At Barton Cottage, Marianne’s decision to go for a walk results in her being literally swept of her feet by Willoughby as he carries her home. At the end of the novel, Marianne and Elinor walk facing the same hills and she realises “Everybody seemed injured by me. The kindness, the unceasing kindness of Mrs Jennings, I had repaid with ungrateful contempt”. She has matured and grown emotionally through the course of the novel.

A number of carriages and men on horseback during Marianne’s illness at Cleveland heightens the tension with Austen cleverly creating movement to build emotional pressure as Elinor waits.

Another member turned to Margaret Doody’s Jane Austen’s Names and focused on the significance of the places that Austen chose to send her the characters moved to in Pride and Prejudice.

Brighton, a defended port, military camp and highly fashionable resort, was associated with entertainments and illicit sex. A totally suitable place for Lydia’s seduction by Wickham, as was Ramsgate where Wickham tried the same tactics with Georgiana.

Austen makes London central to her plot, serving as the hinge or crossroads of her story, as every important character, except Mrs Bennet either travels or lives there.

Did the Bennets live in Hertforshire because the name lends itself to wordplay, the place where hearts cross and meet? And is Rosings in Kent where Austen’s wealthy relations lived because they treated her with condescension? Hence the “vainglory and sense of entitlement” expressed through both Mr Collins and Lady Catherine.

While another member considered the significance of the journey to Hunsford, which allowed personal conversations between Elizabeth and Darcy leading to the proposal and personal conversations between Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam which added to Elizabeth’s prejudice.

The problems of travel for women were also discussed and the expense of private coaches. 

Take Emma, in which protagonist Emma is trapped in Hartfield, tied down by her father although other characters move considerable distances. Isabella and John Knighley travel from and back to London, Frank Churchill goes there for his haircut, Mr Elton travels to Bristol to find a bride and Mr Knightley also travels to London to resolve his feeling about Emma and marriage.

But three journeys do have an impact on Emma, herself, all three making her question herself and her decisions. The carriage ride home from Christmas at the Weston’s with Mr Elton, the infamous picnic at Box Hill, and her distress while Mr Knightley is in London and she thinks she’s lost him for ever.

Using Beth Wallace’s essay (citation below) as source material, our remote member considered Mansfield Park and how it is the young men who travel the most; from Tom Bertram’s accompanying his father to Antigua and his profligate trips to the races, Ramsgate, Weymouth and London, to Henry Crawford’s more purposeful journeys to Norfolk, Bath and London. 

Mr. Crawford assures all that he will return to Mansfield Park from Bath, Norfolk, London, York or any place in England at an hour’s notice. Noticeably, these land-bound men, including Edmund Bertram on his journeys to Eton, Oxford, Peterborough and London, do not comment on the travel itself.  

Modest Midshipman William Price travels the furthest and reminisces the most willingly about his naval experiences in the Mediterranean, Gibraltar and Sicily. Travel has indeed opened his mind. 

Female travellers are generally more thoughtful and the countryside is seen according to their moods and characters, such as the silent emotional turmoil during the ten miles in Henry’s barouche to and from Sotherton. 

Money and social class determined who travelled in carriages. Mrs Norris believes that ten year old Fanny can easily get from Portsmouth by public coach under the care of any creditable person who may chance to be going, such as a tradesman’s wife.

Years later, when Fanny and her brother are more respected, they travel by post back to Portsmouth and Mrs Norris ‘sees Sir Thomas actually give William notes for the purpose.’ 

Appropriateness also outweighed distance. Sir Thomas asks Fanny what time she would have the carriage come round when she is going to the vicarage close by. 

“My dear Sir Thomas!” cried Mrs Norris, red with anger, “Fanny can walk,” 
“Walk!” Repeated Sir Thomas ……”My niece walk to a dinner engagement at this time of the year!”

This was a time when consumer culture was escalating, and stories told from the point of view of material objects, their origin, manufacture, and journey taken to arrive with a particular owner, were quite popular. The journey taken by Jane Austen’s material objects, though, tell us so much more about the psychological development of her characters. The journey taken by Mary Crawford’s harp, for instance, exposes her ‘dangerous and siren-like power over Edmund’ and her insensitivity to the essential requirements of an agricultural community which prevent her from obtaining a horse and cart at harvest time. This brilliant use of material culture to focus on character exposé places Austen at the vanguard of the modern psychological novel. 

The meeting ended with quotes after a decision to delay the quiz for a month. It was an excellent topic.

Sources

Roy and Lesley Adkins, Jane Austen’s England. Viking, 2013, pp. 238 – 261)
Margaret Doody, Jane Austen’s names. University of Chicago Press, 2016
Beth Wallace, “Traveling shoe roses: The geography of things in Austen’s works” in Jane Austen’s geographies, ed. Robert Clark. Routledge, 2018

July 2022 Meeting: Sense and sensibility, Vol. 3

Last month, we reported on Volume 2 of our current slow read of Austen’s first published novel, Sense and sensibility. Here is our report on Volume 3.

As usual, different members responded quite differently to this volume, but the result was a fascinating discussion. One member felt more strongly than she had before that the novel reveals signs of being a very ‘young’ work. She was conscious of the characters being manoeuvred rather than evolving naturally as they do in her later novels. She also quoted Patrick Piggott, whose focus was music in the novel:  

Jane Austen’s first published novel, with all its irony, humour and youthful vitality, is, on the whole, a sad story. Marianne’s extreme  ‘sensibility’ is not the cause of her misfortune, it only increases its degree, and one is left uncertain whether the authoress herself believed that a refined susceptibility to the effect of music on the emotions was more likely to undermine the nerves, and therefore the strength needed to overcome life’s difficulties, than to provide a sensitive soul with a valuable means  of consolation and support when weighed down by affliction. 

Some members thought about the work’s overall trajectory. One commented on how long the resolution took after Marianne recovered enough to travel back to Barton Cottage: so many loose ends were tied up and commented on.

Another noticed how Elinor and Edward’s romance was stretched out until last minute, with Marianne and Col. Brandon wooing constantly in the background. She likened Marianne and Col. Brandon’s relationship to an arranged marriage. Marianne esteemed Col. Brandon and was fond of him rather than was passionate – but “became devoted in time”. Marianne changes much over the course of the novel. She matures through realising what Elinor had experienced with such forbearance. Sickness also gave her time to think. This member suggested Austen was contrasting romantic passion with calm longstanding devotion. She also compared Col. Brandon and Marianne, to Fanny Price and her devotion to Edmund, reminding us of the time it was going to take for Edmund to fall in love in love with Fanny.

What was Austen saying about love, she asked? In this case, she seems to be saying that it developed over time. She left the reader to decide how long it would take Fanny’s Edmund!

A couple of members were interested in the heroes. Why did Austen create such ordinary flawed men for her heroines to marry. They are not Alan Rickman or Hugh Grant, one said, but sort of depressives. The Dashwood girls, she said, seem to be condemned to mundane marriages while Lucy Steele continues to succeed in charming everyone through her scheming. Is this fair? Marilyn Butler, in fact, has written that Austen would have appreciated the irony that a work so sceptical about romance could be declared one of the best romance novels.

Another member’s mind followed similar lines of thought. Austen, she suggested, portrays a microcosm of humanity from her first novel. They are peopled with flawed, real characters representing complex humanity (unlike the black-and-white characters of her Gothic precursors.) Mrs Jennings, the gossip, for example is interfering but kind and tolerant, and the aloof Mr Palmer comes to his own in his own home. Even Willoughby presents himself as a “blockhead … [but] not been always a rascal” and we are (almost) inclined to agree. Certainly, Austen lets him have a decent life. Meanwhile, the heroes, Edward and Col. Brandon are not exciting, sweep-you-off-your-feet types. Edward is quiet, reserved, and Col. Brandon is middle-aged (for the times) and serious.

So then, the question again, why such heroes? And what did Austen mean by the strange implication that Marianne is “the reward of all” (though she will become “devoted in time”). Is this fair? And, is Elinor’s fate fair? What is Austen saying? Life isn’t fair? Ha! Or, in the realistic world she was creating, was she wanting to describe “real” love that is based on genuine feeling combined with appreciation of the personal values that make a person worth loving?

Others were particularly taken by certain themes or ideas being explored. Gossip, for example.

Gossip, Eavesdropping and Cross Purposes 

One member wondered how Mrs Smith hears about Willoughby’s indiscretion, which resulted in her realising that although Sense and sensibility is often called a novel of secrets, it also contains a remarkable amount of gossip. Mrs Jennings is the most obvious conveyor of gossip but there are many other instances. 

Concerning Mrs Smith and Willoughby, for example, had Colonel Brandon informed her about her cousin’s seduction of Eliza Williams. Perhaps not, but when Willoughby visits Cleveland, having learned of Marianne’s illness, he tells Elinor that ‘Mrs Smith had somehow or other been informed, I imagine by some distant relation whose interest it was to deprive me of her favour, of an affair, of a connection – but I need not explain myself further’. So, self-interested gossip from an unknown person (unknown to us, but perhaps known to Willoughby) plays a significant role in the plot of the novel.

Such gossip also accounts for two other important events: Sophia learns of her fiancé’s attachment and, jealous, dictates his letter to Marianne; and Willoughby learns of Marianne’s illness from Sir John Middleton and decides to visit her at Cleveland.

Our member went through Volume III, identifying the many places where gossip plays a role in the development of the plot, including the way Lucy and Edward’s secret engagement is divulged and to whom, and who tells whom what about reactions to the engagement.

Besides playing a role in the plot, gossip can also reveal character, our member said. Nancy Steele shows no shame, for example, in eavesdropping and then sharing what she’s heard. Mrs Jennings also tries to overhear a conversation between Col. Brandon and Elinor, but, rather than gossip about it, she uses what she thinks she’s heard to inform her discussion with Elinor, which results in a humorous – for the reader – conversation.

Towards the end of the novel, gossip, resulting in a misunderstanding about who has married whom, creates dramatic tension when Edward suddenly arrives, intending to propose to Elinor, little knowing that they believe he is already married. Our member questioned whether there is more gossip in this novel than in Austen’s other novels. Her unscientific internet search suggests this is possible!

She also said that it’s worth considering what gossip actually is – when is it helpful, a passing on of useful information, and when is it harmful?

All things worth exploring another day… 

Mrs Jennings

Another member was drawn to Mrs Jennings. She reminded us that in Vol I we are introduced to Mrs Jennings, who is staying at Barton Park with her daughter and her son-in-law Sir John Middleton, as ‘a good humoured, merry, fat, elderly woman, who talked a great deal, seemed very happy and rather vulgar’. Not a flattering or appealing description. Someone you would choose to know? We are also informed she is a widow with an ample jointure who has lived to see her two daughters respectably married and now has ‘nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the world’.

She has an ear for gossip and loves to tease young women about their attractions to young men at the frequent social occasions which Sir John loves to arrange. ‘She was remarkably quick in the discovery of attachments…’ Mrs Jennings comes across as not much more than an inquisitive busybody enjoying her stay in the country and the rather superficial social activities of the Middletons.

However, in Volume III, Austen gives her a larger role in the movement of the story, and we see and appreciate her values and her better qualities in putting those values into practice.

Her status as a widow with an ample jointure (meaning she’s well off) allows her the freedom to act on her own behalf, recognised as a ‘person’ under the law, rather than as an agent of an husband. Her thoughtfulness and generosity are displayed in her invitation to Elinor and Marianne to spend the season in London with her at her residence. 

Our member felt that Mrs Jennings assumes a pivotal role in the story from this point, being involved in most of its ensuing developments. 

We now see her in her well-located Berkeley Square house – ‘handsome and handsomely fitted up, and the young ladies were immediately put in possession of a very comfortable apartment’. She efficiently runs her household, attending to her affairs and ensuring every attention is paid to her guests, seeing them out in society and appropriately chaperoned when she is unavailable to accompany them. The author portrays her as a very different character from Vol I’s garrulous gossip.

Her close friendship with Col. Brandon (permitted by her widowhood?) continues in the city and is significant to the movement of the story.

Of course, she is still curious about everyone, especially their attachments, and wants to gather information, but we also see her support for people of a moral conscience and for those who behave honourably and with integrity. She is disdainful of Fanny Dashwood and Mrs Ferrars, despising their valuing of money and greatness. She is more than only a busybody.

Marianne and Elinor gradually warm to her. She shows immense kindness and thoughtfulness to Marianne in her despair over Willoughby’s behaviour and is a constant support to both young women. She moves with the party to ‘Cleveland’ and continues to contribute to their comfort and wellbeing. Her widow status and comfortable resources enable her continued freedom to move around at will.

In other words, the author transforms her from a fairly minor and perhaps unattractive character at the beginning, until, later in the novel, when she assumes a central role in the playing out of the story.

Ian Watt sees her role as providing the main educative process in modifying Marianne’s and Elinor’s extremes of sense and sensibility:

She has all Sir John’s indiscriminate cheerfulness, her tactless curiosity and thoughtless gossip, begin by offending Elinor and Marianne even more deeply; yet by the end of the novel they have learned that the uncultivated Mrs Jennings has the essence of what really matters as regards both sense and sensibility. Once her intellectual judgments (sic) are made, and her benevolent feelings are engaged, she acts disinterestedly and energetically, siding with Elinor and Marianne against the wealth and the family connections of the Dashwoods and the Ferrars. Even before then, her “naturalness” and her “blunt sincerity” have implicitly corrected Marianne’s erroneous assumptions about the proper relationship between marriage and money, for she at once assumes that the very modest income of Edward Ferrars’s living at Delaford will not and should not be any obstacle to the marriage of lovers. Her head and her heart combine to point out that the lovers must merely make do with less.

Money

Another member took a different approach again, and explored the theme of money. Volume III, she said, shows the final impact of the theme of money, and she demonstrated her ideas through two characters, in particular, Lucy Steele and John Willoughby. Both reveal the importance of money to living in high society.

Lucy Steele uses many techniques to charm and ingratiate herself into ‘polite society’. Both the Steele sisters shamelessly flatter those above them. Through constant and judicious attention, and sacrificing their dignity and integrity, they ‘buy’ their way into polite society. In Chapter 50, she is rewarded by marriage with Robert Ferrars, and thus gains the long sought after money and social status.

Similarly, John Willoughby throughout the novel shows how men can be just as devious in their need for money and social status. He displays the qualities of a charming, but morally shallow, character. In Volume III, Chapter 46 Willoughby explains his treatment of Marianne. This chapter may offer Elinor, and the reader, a sympathetic look at Willoughby. However, in the end, his superficial show of remorse and guilt leaves the question of whether he is truly genuine. The need for money is at the heart of all his decisions; he really cares little for anyone who may fall under his spell.

A member suggested that one of the novel’s themes is the triumph of kindness, generosity and charity (seen in characters like Sir John Middleton, Col. Brandon, Mrs Jennings, and Charlotte Palmer) over greed and self-interest (seen in characters like Willoughby, Lucy Steele, Fanny and John Dashwood).

An enjoyable and enlightening slow read.

Sources:

• Butler, Marilyn. Jane Austen and the war on ideas. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987.
• Carson, Susannah (ed) ‘On Sense and Sensibility’, in A Truth Universally Acknowledged (p. 52-3). Particular Books, Penguin Group (Australia), 2010 
• Mijares, Jackie. ‘Mrs Jennings and “The Comfortable Estate of Widowhood” or The Benefits of Being a Widow with a Handsome Jointure’. Persuasions Online, Vol 38 (10), Winter 2017
• Piggott, Patrick. The Innocent Diversion: a study of Music in the life and writings of Jane Austen. Moonrise Press, 2010.

June 2022 Meeting: Sense and sensibility, Vol. 2

Prepared by member Jenny.

Last month, we reported on Volume 1 of our current slow read of Austen’s first published novel, Sense and sensibility. Here is our report on Volume 2.

This volume, we thought, could well have been entitled the trials of Elinor.

First, she has constantly to deal with the mood swings of Marianne in the latter’s desperation concerning Willoughby. She also has Lucy Steele busy proving her superiority relating to Edward. To add to this, Fanny Dashwood and Mrs. Ferrars take every opportunity to try and shame her. Lady Middleton regards her with suspicion and although Mrs. Jennings is well meaning she frequently misunderstands the situation and spreads rumours accordingly. Mr. John Dashwood only wants to see her married well to allay any lingering guilt about her he may feel.

Elinor’s only source of intelligent conversation is Colonel Brandon.

The volume has been called a book of secrets by critics: Mr. John Dashwood’s betrayal of his promise to his dying father, Edward’s secret engagement, Col. Brandon’s melodramatic back story, the duel, Willoughby’s seduction of Eliza and his subsequent treatment by Mrs. Smith and the Ferrars family’s intention that Edward should marry Miss Morton. Some critics have even suggested that Marianne was pregnant.

Marianne’s mood swings are so extreme that it is hard to believe they are only due to blighted love and her youth. However, her failure to eat and sleep combined with stress could well have delayed menstruation. This in turn could have contributed to her desperation. It should be noted that Willoughby, like other would-be seducers in Austen’s novels, picks only on girls not in the care of their parents so it is unlikely that Marianne was seduced however much she put herself at risk.

However, the revelation of Col Brandon’s back story to Marianne is a very significant moment in the plot as it changes her attitude towards him. She now regards him as a romantic character and instead of studiously avoiding him, actually talks to him

Austen is able to use the secrets to create some amazingly funny scenes the best of which is the arrival of Edward at Elinor’s only to find Lucy there. 

It was a very awkward moment and the countenance of each showed it was so… together without the relief of any other person.

Elinor introduces Marianne to the group who only makes things worse when she suggests that Edward may assist them in their return to Barton.

Poor Edward muttered something but what it was, nobody knew, not even himself.

Austen makes much fun of ambition, shallowness and ruthlessness. The scene in the jewelers when the Dashwood girls go to get some jewelry refashioned or pawned, is just such a case. They find Robert Ferrars trying to decide on the design for a tooth pick case and taking an appallingly long time to do so even though they are waiting. When Mr. John Dashwood feels guilty about his sisters and suggests to Fanny that they invite them to stay she manages to out-manoeuvre him by saying she was planning to invite the Steeles.

Although Austen may have been surreptitiously critically analyzing the tendencies towards sense and sensibility in her heroines throughout Volume 2, both girls exhibit the qualities, both suffer and neither quality is vindicated over the other. It is hypocrisy which is condemned decisively. Austen is deftly putting all the pieces in place for the final resolution. 

The whole of Lucy’s behaviour in the affair, and the prosperity which crowned it, therefore, may be held forth as a most encouraging instance of what an earnest, an encouraging attention to self interest, however its progress may be apparently obstructed, will do in securing every advantage of fortune with no other sacrifice than that of time or conscience. 

Thus, Austen ironically sums up her condemnation of the chief villain of the story. Lucy knows exactly how to deal with the status seeking money hungry behaviour of those who consider themselves her superiors.

May 2022 Meeting: Sense and sensibility, Vol. 1

Prepared by member Jenny.

It’s been over eleven years since we last did a slow read of Sense and sensibility. For our post on our thoughts on Volume 1 back then, please check our report. Meanwhile, here are our thoughts on rereading Volume 1 this time around.

Jane Ausen uses the first volume of Sense and Sensibility to show how patriarchy and parsimony resulted in the females of a family when the husband/father dies, being disinherited, dislodged and dismissed. 

This makes the opening of S&S very bleak. 

The two heroines, Elinor and Marianne, receive only small inheritances from their great uncle, their father dies a year later leaving only 10,000 pounds and their half brother, the inheritor of Norland, fails to keep his promise to his dying father to look after them, even though Mrs Dashwood was present at the time. 

Consequently, she is left with only 500 pounds a year to raise and dower her daughters. This is a similar amount to that which the Austen family were left with when the Reverend George Austen died. 

The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex … Norland had maintained their status for many years. Old Henry Dashwood had willed the property to his nephew, Henry, and to his son, John, and finally to little Harry thus ensuring the succession of the Norland estate. The wealth and status of the property was paramount to the family. 

In no time at all, Mrs John Dashwood, her son and her servants moved into Norwood, treating the original occupants like visitors. She, narrow minded and selfish, subsequently argues her husband out of giving them any money even though the property is similar in value to Mr Darcy’s Pemberley. Her argument is based on the idea that little Harry must not be deprived. In other words, their status and his, were imperative. John believes he has done all that is required by law. 

Members wondered whether a similar conversation was held between Edward Knight and his wife, Elizabeth, when the Austen women were left bereft. It was only after her death that he was able to provide Chawton Cottage for their accommodation. 

It was a distant relation of Mrs Dashwood, Sir John Middleton, who offers her family a cottage in Barton Park in Devon. He is genuinely generous and inviting in every way. 

Not only are the girls left with little money but their lovers prove untrustworthy, both harboring secrets. Willoughby leaves suddenly with no explanation and Edward is revealed as being already engaged to Lucy Steele. 

The novel is didactic in suggesting that charm, manners and good conversation are not the best criteria on which to judge personality nor is wishful thinking. Life is unfair and cunning individuals, like Fanny and Lucy, can win the day. It exposes how those supposedly sacred benevolising institutions of order – property, marriage and family can enforce avarice, selfishness and mediocrity. 

While Elinor exemplifies sense by being able to control her emotions in the most trying of circumstances such as conversations with Lucy Steele, Marianne embraces her emotions and expresses them freely even at other people’s expense like her view of Edward’s reading of poetry. Both positions are somewhat unbelievable. But surely this is Jane Austen’s humorous approach. It could also be suggested that members of the Ferrars family exhibit legal sense while the female members of the Dashwood family express sensibility. 

Generally speaking, many of us were surprised with our reacquaintances with the characters, finding them to have extra qualities we had not noticed during earlier readings. Lady Middleton gained sympathy for having a mother as excruciatingly vulgar as Mrs Jennings after probably having attended an expensive finishing school. Edward Ferrars was seen as rather insensitive for visiting the Dashwoods in Devonshire. It was also puzzling that he chose to wear a ring containing Lucy’s hair and lie about it. Willoughby’s conversations with Marianne were noted as being constantly leading her on without any commitment. Her mother refused to ask if they were engaged for fear of spoiling their relationship. 

It is clear that definitions of “family” can have two very different definitions. Either estates, the income they generate and the social positions they confer passed from generation to generation must be respected at all costs or true family is connected by love, compassion and emotional attachment. 

Clearly the introduction to Sense and Sensibility shows these two approaches at odds with one another. 

References: 

• Eddleman, Stephanie M: “The Family of Dashwood”: The Effect of Wills and Entailments on Family Connections in Sense and Sensibility.  (2002 JASNA Essay Contest First Place Winner Graduate Division) 
• Johnson, Claudia L. (ed): Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. 
• Mullan, John: What Matters in Jane Austen? Bloomsbury, London, 2012. 
• Ruoff, Gene W. Jane Austen’s “Sense and Sensibility“. Simon and Schuster, Hertfordshire, 1992. 
• Shapard, David M: The Annotated “Sense and Sensibility“. Anchor Books, 2011. Random House. USA.

March 2022 meeting: Women of a certain age – in Austen (2)

As noted in the first post in this two-part series, our March meeting was devoted to discussing “women of a certain age”. The first post focused on the definitions, and the contributions of members who looked at the topic more broadly. This post contains the contributions of those who chose to explore particular characters.

It’s important to reiterate that these characters were chosen according to some different understandings of “women of a certain age”.

Mrs Smith (Persuasion)

Many of Austen’s older women, said our member, suffered from a “malady imaginative”, but Mrs Smith’s illness was real. Mrs Smith is not technically middle-aged, by our generally agreed definition, but she was three years older than Anne Elliot, and, because of her experience, she seems much older. However, our member’s main point was that Mrs Smith, by her definition of the topic as being older women who drive the plot, is a significant plot device in Persuasion.

Greenfield writes of Mrs Smith in Sensibilities, likening her to that other important Smith, Harriet Smith in Emma. Both Smiths challenge the judgement of the heroine, and are more than just “objects of patronage” for their heroines. Our member argued that Mrs Smith exposes how callous Mr Elliot could be, but she could also be manipulative. She’s savvy, resilient, complex, and has an “elastic” mind, said our member. She keeps readers uncertain about her true motives. She had married for money, and it’s only on Anne’s second visit to her sick bed that Mrs Smith reveals all she knows about Mr Elliot. Is she sincerely Anne’s friend, or using Anne for her own advantage? She doesn’t expose Mr Elliot’s full perfidy until she ascertains that Anne does not plan to marry him.

Nonetheless, argued our member, Mrs Smith is an interesting friend, because she lets Anne see the fault of her own choices. Unlike Lady Russell, she doesn’t interfere, but she encourages Anne. Women of a certain age, concluded our member, did have powers of persuasion, and in Mrs Smith’s case she helped Anne clarify her decision. She plays a similar plot role in terms of the heroine’s change of mind as the Gardiners do in Pride and prejudice.

Our member didn’t have time to research her fully, but argued that Mrs Churchill, another (much) older woman, plays an important role in driving the plot of Emma.

Miss Bates (Emma)

Jane Austen creates no female over the age of 30 who are marriageable (with the exception of Lady Susan), said another member, and Miss Bates is the only older spinster in Austen’s novels who is a main character. She represents a subset of society, a subset that Austen, herself, and her sister Cassandra, also belonged to.

Miss Bates is introduced in Ch. 3 of Emma, with “she was a great talker on little matters”. She’s in the middle of life, needing to make her money last, which was Austen’s own world. Then we don’t meet her again until Ch. 19 when we are told of Emma’s reluctance to visit her. Emma sees Miss Bates and her mother as “tiresome”, and has a horror of “falling in with the second rate and third rate of Highbury” who regularly visit the Bateses – which of course tells us more about Emma than those women. And yet, Emma and Miss Bates have a few things in common: both care for aged parents, both are unmarried, and both seem happy.

Miss Bates is a great talker and on Emma’s visit she talks for 5 pages inspired by Jane Fairfax’s letter. Norton asks how readers react to her: do we find her “amusing or delightful” or does the sight of page/s devoted to fill us with “gloom”. These questions determine whether we share Emma’s reaction to her. Emma is exasperated by her and shows little tolerance or empathy, and yet others in Highbury, including Mr Knightley, show remarkable kindness to Miss Bates. 

Norton discusses how Austen presents Miss Bates – the use of double dashes to convey the frenetic nature of her speech. He also suggests we try to imagine being her, and read her speeches aloud.

Our member did disagree with Norton’s statement that readers are amused by Emma’s witticism about Miss Bates at Box Hill. She argued that most readers, like Mr Knightley, are appalled.

Miss Bates is more than a comic element, but plays an important role in the plot: she reveals significant pieces of information, particularly regarding Jane and Frank.

Beyond this, Norton argues that Miss Bates is important to Austen’s deepening vision of humanity, to her dealing with women with compassion.

Mrs Jennings (Sense and sensibility)

Mrs Jennings, said our member, plays a useful role in Sense and sensibility. She is always where the action is or she makes effort to know what’s going on (going so far as to ask her servants to obtain information from the servants of others). She’s generous and good-hearted, but a gossip, so she keeps the plot moving along, like Miss Bates. However, she can get “the wrong end of the stick” at times, such as putting Colonel Brandon and Elinor together.

She appears in at least 25 of the 50 chapters. She sees through affectations like Fanny Dashwood. She’s described as “cheerful, agreeable”, but Marianne finds her boring, interfering. But, proposed our member, this reflects more on Marianne’s character than on Mrs Jennings’.

She’s wealthy, and she’s never invisible. Things don’t bother her. Having married off her daughters satisfactorily, she is keen to do the same for the Dashwood girls.

Mrs Norris (Mansfield Park)

Our member who chose Mrs Norris started with her name. Doody suggests that “Norris” might derive from the French for “north” or Nourrice (nurse). Mrs Norris is harsh as the north, and, ironically, un-nurturing. “Norris” is also the surname of John Norris, a cruel pro-slavery delegate portrayed by Thomas Clarkson, who was a leading writer for the abolition and whom Austen read.

Barchas refers to an article by Kathleen Fowler, who argues that “Jane Austen plants for us an emblem for the entire novel” in the moor park apricot tree, which is praised by Mrs Norris and judged as “insipid” by Dr Grant. Fowler argues that Austen uses plants to help delineate characters: the Misses Bertram make artificial flowers while the life-draining Mrs Norris dries roses.

The moor park apricot discussion (Ch. 6) also serves to reveal character of he two Grants and Mrs. Norris, who discuss it. This discussion, for example, raises the issue of taste and discernment. Mrs Grant says that Dr. Grant cannot even recognise the genuine article. But he is not alone, because, repeatedly, characters fail to recognise “the natural taste” of real fruit: the Bertrams and Crawfords fail to recognise Fanny’s virtues; and Fanny fails to recognise real strength and “natural” behaviour in her Portsmouth family.

Mrs Norris gets it wrong all the time, not only about the nature and taste of the apricot. She:

• takes the credit for engineering Maria’s engagement to a man she does not love (Mr Rushforth) while missing what is going on between Maria and Henry Crawford
• promotes the theatricals, not appreciating (unlike Fanny and Edmund) that Sir Thomas would disapprove
• is cruel, particularly to Fanny, but also the Mansfield Park servants
• is mean (and the examples abound), but it is epitomised in her refusal to have Fanny live with her and her spending as much time as possible at Mansfield Park to save money
• is a sycophant, obsequious, particularly to Sir Thomas
• is a snob, and emphasises the difference between Maria and Julia, and Fanny

Our member wondered what modern personality disorder we could ascribe to her: passive aggressive?mid-life crisis? relevance deprivation syndrome (which she experiences twice, first after the death of her husband, and then when she is banished with Maria).

Does she have any redeeming qualities? Blogger Sarah Emsley shares the thoughts of George Justice (from Arizona State University). He says:

We learn in the novel’s first paragraph that Mrs. Norris was the older sister of Lady Bertram and, subject to the marriage market of her time, had to watch her younger sister marry first (and marry well) and eventually find “herself obliged to be attached to the Rev. Mr. Norris, a friend of her brother-in-law.” The double passive of “found herself obliged” and “to be attached” signals the novel’s latent sympathy with the character. Mrs. Norris is characterized both explicitly and in the action of the novel as having a “spirit of activity.” Therefore, being put in the position of being acted upon in the single most important life moment that society imposed on young women of her social class—marriage—is not a punishment of her but the signal moment shaping the narrative of Mrs. Norris’s life. Mrs. Norris is female activity repressed by patriarchal society.

Justice continues to suggest that as the active spouse of a clergyman, she would have had plenty to do, the most important of which would probably have been raising children, but Mrs. Norris is dealt another blow by life: she had no children. Austen writes of her frugality, suggesting that

Had there been a family to provide for, Mrs. Norris might never have saved her money; but having no care of that kind, there was nothing to impede her frugality. (Ch. 1)

So, says Justice, Mrs. Norris’ ill-judged encouragement of Lovers’ vows can be understood in terms of her having “clawed her way to significance through assuming a role in the economy of Mansfield Park”. She is “a middle manager, a factory floor shift supervisor despised by both the owner … and the workers …”. With Sir Thomas absent, and no-one taking charge, she does, he argues,

the best she can. Like many middle managers … she can only act on her best understanding of the intentions of her superiors in relation to those she is managing—who are, at best, resentful, and at worse filled with enmity and contempt.

So, he says, we could see her as “a victim of an unjust society: widowed, ill-educated, and requiring patronage to maintain her human dignity”. What does it say about us, he asks, if we’d rather she be Miss Bates, who is “powerless and ridiculed, existing solely on the basis of charity”? Looking at her this way, he suggests that “Mrs. Norris, given her limited opportunities, is as hard-working as any of Austen’s female characters”.

Another member saw some redeeming qualities, suggesting her economising is a positive quality in a woman managing on her own.

Academic Moira Ferguson also hints at Mrs Norris’s affection for Maria as a redeeming feature, but she also likens Mrs Norris to the role of “overseer”.

Perkins explores how the idea of slavery plays out in Mansfield Park. The article makes interesting reading, finding analogies between the institution and practice of slavery, and the treatment of people, and particularly Fanny, at Mansfield Park. For example, as the master of Mansfield Park, Sir Thomas Bertram has ultimate responsibility for years of humiliation and pain inflicted upon Fanny by her authorised overseer, Mrs. Norris, even if he didn’t fully intend this evil. Mrs Norris, who has little power herself, seems to relish this role of subjugating someone below her on the ladder. Sir Thomas leaves his plantations under an overseer.

Sources

• Barchas, Janine. Matters of fact in Jane Austen: History, location and celebrity, Johns Hopkins University Press, 2013
• Doody, Margaret. Jane Austen’s names, University of Chicago Press, 2015
• Eddleman, Stephanie. “Past the bloom: Aging and beauty in the novels of Jane Austen“, Persuasions, no. 37, 2015
• Emsley, Sarah. “Angry white female: An apology for Mrs Norris“, sarahemsley.com, 1 August 2014 (Accessed: 17 May 2022)
• Ferguson, Moira. “Mansfield Park: Slavery, Colonialism and Gender,” The Oxford Literary Review, 13 (1991): 118-39
• Fowler, Kathleen. “Apricots, raspberries, and Susan Price! Susan Price: Mansfield Park and Maria Edgeworth”, Persuasions 15 (1991)
• Greenfield, Sayre. “Alias Mrs Smith”, Sensibilities, no. 37, December 2008
• Norton, David. “Emma and Mr Knightly as lovers: Keeping secrets and telling tales”, Sensibilities No. 51, December 2015
• Perkins, Moreland. “Mansfield Park and Austen’s reading on slavery and Imperial Warfare”, Persuasions Online 26 (1), Winter 2005

May 2017 meeting: Who advises Jane Austen’s heroines?

Prepared by member Mary.

Our topic for the May meeting was “who advises Jane Austen’s heroines?”  A wide-ranging topic with a difficulty in distinguishing between advice, persuasion and bullying.  We considered those who may be in a position to provide helpful advice, including parents, siblings, relatives, friends and suitors.  Often they tended to do more harm than good.

Several people quoted Fanny Price’s belief that “we all have a better guide in ourselves, if we wanted to attend to it, than any other person can be.”  Despite her many trials, Fanny always keeps true to her own “better guide”; and all of Jane Austen’s heroines eventually find strength and guidance from their own moral integrity.

Margaret Mary Benson’s paper discusses the relationship between Mothers, substitute mothers and daughters in the novels of Jane Austen (Persuasions No. 11, 1989).  A mother’s role is to take care of her daughter’s early education and endeavor to develop a personal sense of responsibility.  But in Austen’s novels mothers are either absent or totally inadequate.

Benson points out that even Mrs Morland fails as a source of morality as she has “too many children to concentrate on the guidance of any individual daughter or son.”  In Bath Catherine is left to the care of Mrs Allen, who is incapable of giving advice of any kind.  When asked, Mr Allen advises Catherine that it is not seemly to be driving about the country side in an open carriage with John Thorpe.  Although fond of her brother James, Catherine questions his wisdom in encouraging a friendship with John Thorpe.  The contrast between the behavior of Isabella and John Thorpe with that of Eleanor and Henry Tilney helps Catherine to distinguish between false and trusted friends.

Catherine is mortified when a shocked Henry realizes that she has imagined that General Tilney murdered his wife, but he finds a way of being her mentor and guiding her judgment.  By the end of the novel Catherine has matured and she “acts with real dignity when she is sent home from Northanger Abbey.  ….. but like Emma, her husband will always be her mentor and superior, theirs is not a marriage of equals.”  (Benson, ibid).

Emma Woodhouse is motherless.  Clever, headstrong and self-reliant she has been managing her father’s household from an early age.  Her substitute mother is “poor Miss Taylor”, now Mrs Weston, who has been with the Woodhouse family for the past 16 years:

Even before Miss Taylor had ceased to hold the nominal office of governess, the mildness of her temper had hardly allowed her to impose any restraint; and the shadow of authority being now long passed away, they had been living together as friend and friend very mutually attached and Emma doing just what she liked; highly esteeming Miss Taylor’s judgment, but directed chiefly by her own. (Emma, Ch. 1)

Likewise Mr Woodhouse can find no fault with Emma.  He is a valetudinarian who uses emotional blackmail to keep Emma at home to care for him and entertain the limited society of Highbury.  But he is no companion for her.  “He could not meet her in conversation, rational or playful.” Frank Churchill deceives Emma. He uses his flirtation with her as a screen to hide his secret engagement to Jane Fairfax; although he claims he was not at fault: he “only supposed Emma as quick-witted as she believed herself to be”.

Mr Knightley has known Emma all her life and is in the habit of lecturing and judging her. He advises Emma not to interfere with Harriet’s relationship with Robert Martin, but she is determined to prove him wrong and plays matchmaker with disastrous results.  When all is resolved between them, Mr Knightley questions whether he had the right to judge and lecture Emma, who must have done well without him.  But Emma replies “I was often influenced rightly by you – oftener than I would own at the time.  I am sure you did me good.”

Anne Elliot is also motherless.  She has a very ‘conceited, silly father’ and an elder sister who both regard Anne and her younger sister as ‘of very inferior value’.  Anne’s substitute mother is Lady Russell, to whom she is “a most dear and highly valued god-daughter, favourite and friend.”  Lady Russell advises Anne to sever her relationship with Frederick Wentworth with whom she had fallen deeply in love with when she was 19.  Lady Russell, who valued social status, considered the relationship inappropriate for Anne with all her claims to birth, beauty and mind, to throw herself away at nineteen on a headstrong man who had nothing but himself to recommend him, and no hopes of attaining affluence, but in the chance of a most uncertain profession.  Lady Russell feared that such a marriage would sink her into a state of most wearing, anxious, youth killing dependence.  Not marrying Wentworth has done exactly that to Anne who has noticeably lost her bloom, and is faded and thin.  In one sense Anne does not regret having done her duty to Lady Russell in following her advice, but in another, later regrets being persuaded not to marry Wentworth – she felt that were any young person, in similar circumstances, to apply to her for counsel, they would never receive any of such certain immediate wretchedness, such uncertain good. (Persuasion, Vol 1. Ch.4).

Lady Russell encourages Anne, at 22, to accept a proposal from Charles Musgrove, but in this case Anne had nothing left for advice to do.  Later Lady Russell encourages Anne’s marriage to her cousin, William Elliot, the heir to Kellynch Hall.  But now at 27 Anne is no longer dependent on Lady Russell’s advice.  It was now some years since Anne had begun to learn that she and her excellent friend could sometimes think differently; and it did not surprise her, therefore, that Lady Russell could see nothing suspicious or inconsistent, nothing to require more motives than appeared in Mr Elliot’s great desire for reconciliation.  Benson notes that not only is Anne more perceptive than Lady Russell in terms of motives, but she also differs in what she truly values in her friends – such as the open-heartedness of the Musgrove family and especially of Frederick’s fellow sailors and their families – the Crofts and the Harvilles.  More than any of the heroines, at the end of Persuasion Anne totally separates herself from her family in favour of Fredrick’s open-hearted sailor friends. (Benson, ibid)

Marianne Dashwood resembles her mother who encourages Marianne’s excessive displays of romantic sensibility. Elinor, the eldest daughter “possessed a strength of understanding, and a coolness of judgement, which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother…… Her feelings were strong, but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn.” (SS. 6).   John Dashwood, who promised his father that he would support the family, is persuaded by his wife that he need do nothing at all; but that does not prevent him from offering unwanted advice to Elinor that she should marry Colonel Brandon, and cultivate her friendship with Mrs Jennings in the hope that Elinor and Marianne would inherit some of her fortune.  While Mrs Jennings and Sir John Middleton are kind and hospitable, and Colonel Brandon offers practical help and the comfort of a good friend, they do not advise Elinor nor does she seek their advice.  When Edward’s secret engagement to Lucy is revealed, Marianne is astonished that Elinor has known for four months.  She exclaims “how have you been supported?”  Elinor replies “I have had all this on my mind without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature.” (p.228).  Mrs Dashwood belatedly realizes she had been inattentive to her eldest daughter.  “Marianne’s affliction, because more acknowledged, more immediately before her, had too much engrossed her tenderness, and led her away to forget that in Elinor she might have a daughter suffering almost as much, certainly with less self-provocation and greater fortitude.”  (SS p56).

Elizabeth Bennet has two unsatisfactory parents. Because of her intelligence and ‘quickness’, she is her father’s favourite.  She is her mother’s least favourite daughter, and to Lizzy her mother is a constant source of embarrassment and irritation.  Mrs Bennet has neglected her daughters’ education, and is also “equally indifferent to her daughters’ moral education – and, in fact probably is incapable of providing them with any moral example.” (Benson, ibid).  Lizzy falls further out of favour with her mother when she refuses a proposal from Mr Collins, but she will not be bullied into accepting him.  She also stands up to Lady Catherine, and will not be bullied by her.  Lizzy and her sister Jane are close companions, but Jane only sees good in everyone, and does not really advise Lizzy.  Fortunately there is Aunt Gardiner, her role model and friend: “Unlike Mrs Bennet she is capable of giving real advice.  She is the only one to advise Elizabeth against Wickham; later, she is the physical instrument of Elizabeth and Darcy’s reconciliation at Pemberley.” (Benson, ibid).  Darcy seemingly remains aloof throughout, insulting Elizabeth at the ball and with his first proposal.  His letter changes her mind and her realization about herself: “How despicably have I acted! … I, who have prided myself on my discernment! … Till this moment I never knew myself.” (PP, 236).

At age 9 Fanny Price’s mother farewells her from Portsmouth and greets her return from Mansfield Park 8 years later with equal indifference.  At Mansfield Park Lady Bertram, who should have been the substitute mother, pays no attention to the education of her daughters – ‘thinking more of her pug than her children, but very indulgent to the latter, when it did not put herself to inconvenience.” (MP, p20). She delegates all the responsibility for the education of the Bertram girls and Fanny to Aunt Norris.  While Aunt Norris indulges Maria and Julia, she is cruel and vindictive towards Fanny.  She “… had no affection for Fanny, and no wish of procuring her pleasure at any time.” (MP, 79).  Fanny is gentle, sensitive and obliging: Tom calls her a “creep mouse” and the girls virtually ignore her.

It is only Edmund who kindly guides Fanny in the superficialities of life at Mansfield Park, advising her on books to read, and helping her to become more confident.  However, Edmund can be insensitive and not perceptive.  He doesn’t understand why Fanny is so appalled at the suggestion she should live with Aunt Norris.  Fanny is afraid of Sir Thomas, but stands her ground against his anger at her refusal to accept Henry’s proposal.  The only advice Lady Bertram ever gave Fanny, echoing her husband, is to tell her “It is every young woman’s duty to accept such an unexceptionable offer as this.” (MP, Ch.33). Edmund, also echoing his father, advises Fanny to accept the offer.  Fanny must be forever grateful to Henry for procuring her brother William’s promotion in the navy, but unlike the others, she recognizes his “corrupted mind” and will not marry him.  Fanny also resists Mary Crawford’s manipulation and emotional blackmail to influence her in Henry’s favour.  Fanny does not need advice.  Her moral integrity allows her to make better decisions for herself than any of her advisers.

Next Meeting:  17^th June 17: Sharing and discussing biographies of Jane Austen.

January 2015 meeting: Food in Jane Austen’s novels

Prepared by member Cheng, with help from Anna’s notes.

It would be reasonable to assume that after the indulgences of Christmas our interest in food would have staled. Not so. Our opening meeting for the year had all the enthusiasm and happy chaos of a night at the Musgroves.

First we swapped newsy items and discoveries such as the fact that the 1st edition of Persuasion & Northanger Abbey auctioned last December 6th in Sydney sold for just over $6,000. What a bargain! We examined, reverently, an 1837 5th edition of Sense & Sensibility which had been presented to one of our members on her recent retirement and we read about it in Jane Austen Cover to Cover by Margaret Sullivan. Handling a book 178 years old and published only 20 years after Jane Austen’s death, looking at its engravings and remarking on the good condition of pre 1840’s rag based paper as opposed to later 19th c acidic wood based paper, was a rare treat.

The discussion opened with the statement that, as always, Jane Austen doesn’t waste a word – she uses food to illustrate character.

Maggie Lane was extensively quoted, from both Jane Austen in Context and Jane Austen and Food. Importantly, Lane argues, no hero or heroine or other character who enjoys the narrator’s approval ever willingly speaks about food. They merely refer to the mealtimes of breakfast, dinner or tea, etc. Any mention of a specific foodstuff in Austen is made by a character who is thereby condemned for being greedy, vulgar, selfish or trivial – Mrs Bennet boasting about her soup and her partridges, Dr. Grant salivating at the prospect of turkey are good examples of this, as is Mrs Jenkins kind-hearted concern over Elinor & Marianne’s preferences for salmon or cod and boiled fowls or veal cutlets.

However, even more nuances of social class can be read into this because Mrs Bennet is also letting it be known that she has access to a game park. Many of the subtleties of Jane Austen’s wit are lost on 21st c readers.

Emma contains the most references to food and they also have a deeper meaning. The heroine is part of an interdependent village community where some have more access to food than others. She is portrayed as caring and sharing – broth to a sick cottager, a whole hind-quarter of pork to the poor Bates’, arrow-root to Jane Fairfax. Food in Emma, its production, processing and distribution is a metaphor for neighbourly love.

However, the author also uses it as a background for some of the most amusing scenes in all her novels – the strawberry excursion to Donwell Abbey and Mr. Woodhouse’s digestive foibles.

Mr. Bingley’s white soup symbolises his wealth but at the same time his wit and generosity as he knows Mr. Hurst likes French food and Mr. Darcy can afford a French cook.

When Mr. Hurst scorns Lizzie for preferring a plain dish to a ragout he’s condemned and Elizabeth endorsed for their respective tastes by the narrator. French food was considered suspect and dishonest, just like the French, and unpatriotic.

The only meal specified in Sense & Sensibility is Willoughby’s snatched lunch at a coaching inn in Marlborough – cold beef and a pint of porter – this has a moral dimension because it shows he is behaving honourably and with feeling at last. He doesn’t foolishly starve himself in his haste to reach Marianne but neither does he waste time by ordering an elaborate dish. Some of the sterling character associated with the roast beef of old England attaches to Willoughby: he is reformed.

We strayed into related topics:

• food adulteration, particularly in flour for bread (as possibly in the French-bread that Catherine Morland ate at General Tilney’s breakfast table), the changing size of a penny loaf and the political importance of bread to feed the people.
• table etiquette: the extraordinary quantities of food consumed and the likelihood of actually being able to access every dish laid out.
• mealtimes: breakfast was as yet elegant and light and consisted mainly of tea or coffee and a selection of breads, eaten on fine china. Even Henry Crawford faced a journey to London on a few boiled eggs whilst William Price ate some cold pork with mustard. Heavy hot dishes on a groaning sideboard came later, in Victorian times.

To add even more variety to the meeting, a member had brought a facsimile copy, made of hand forged steel with bone handles, of late 18th c to early 19th c cutlery of the type used in Royal Navy ward rooms. The knife was unusually large and had a very broad blade intended for carving up one’s portion of beef. We realised that eating peas with one’s knife could have been accomplished easily. However, the much smaller 2 pronged fork was intended primarily only for transferring the pieces of meat to the mouth.

In the second half of our meeting members had brought food for afternoon tea that had featured somewhere in her novels. Our task was to identify the novel and who ate the food. Apples, walnuts, olives, seed cake, strawberries, even ratafia biscuits – all had been carefully researched and the game was brisk and laughter laden.

Food from the novels

Extremely interesting was the plate of “Stilton cheese, the North Wiltshire, the butter, the cellery, the beet-root” that had impressed Mr. Elton at the party at the socially aspiring Coles’. These cheeses were only made in certain small localities (the North Wiltshire being difficult to make), had been transported a long distance and hence were considered delicacies.

These expensive cheeses signalled that not only the Coles’ were rising financially and socially but that Mr. Elton, faced with the luxuries that the rich could command, was in raptures. Jane Austen’s readers would have known immediately that he would never marry Harriet Smith!

Our meeting rounded off with a devious quiz from our Machiavellian quiz mistress  – to see if we remembered what we had studied last year!!! We left feeling that we had had a particularly satisfying meeting.

November 2011 Meeting: No. 10, or the Rectory (Parsonages and Jane Austen)

Engraving of Steventon rectory, Austen’s home for much of her life (Public Domain: Courtesy Wikipedia)

Prepared by Jessie, with a little help from Sue.

At our meeting on Saturday, 19th November a nice turn-up of members enjoyed Margaret’s entertaining and informative talk* on English parsonages, rectories and vicarages, with particular reference to those of Jane Austen’s times and the fictional ones of her novels. Margaret pointed out that Jane, being the daughter (and granddaughter and great-granddaughter) as well as sister, niece[?] and cousin of Anglican clergymen, not surprisingly featured clergy and their residences in most of her novels. In fact, in only two – Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion – the heroine does not marry a clergyman, though Elizabeth did have to endure Mr Collins’ excruciatingly embarrassing, though hugely entertaining for the reader, proposal.

In the 18/19th centuries, 4/5ths of England’s population lived in country towns, villages and hamlets and in each the parsonage was one of the three most important buildings, the others being the church itself and the local manor. Often they were situated next to each other and were usually, though not always, imposing buildings. There is no typical architectural style for parsonages.

Of most interest to us though was how Jane, in her inimitable fashion, used descriptions of and references to parsonages to expand our knowledge of her characters, often to their detriment. For example, General Tilney, trying to impress his supposed heiress future consort for Henry describes the parsonage at Woodston with mock humility, calling it “a mere parsonage” while Austen the author tells us it is “a new–built substantial stone house”. This is, in fact, Margaret told us, the only time building materials are mentioned, drawing our attention to the fact that this discrepancy is a point to note!

Austen’s descriptions of parsonages in her books also reflect the general craze  in her time for making improvements to homes, but here too she uses this to reflect on her characters. Generous Colonel Brandon, for example

talked to her [Elinor] a great deal of the parsonage at Delaford, described its deficiencies, and told her what he meant to do himself towards removing them.

Meanwhile, sensible Edmund Bertram is not greatly interested in unnecessary improvements of Thornton Lacey:

I must be satisfied with rather less ornament and beauty. I think the house and premises may be made comfortable, and given the air of a gentleman’s residence, without any very heavy expense, and that must suffice me; and, I hope, may suffice all who care about me.

But Henry Crawford sees it differently:

I never saw a house of the kind which had in itself so much the air of a gentleman’s residence, so much the look of a something above a mere parsonage–house …

Mr Elton’s vicarage, on the other hand, is “an old and not very good house” that he had merely “smartened up”. The only person to admire it is Harriet.

After showing us black and white photos of some of these old parsonages, many with their impressive sweeps so necessary to accommodate the gentleman clergyman’s (and his visitors’) carriages, Margaret brought us into the 21st century with a selection of real estate agents’ brochures. It seems that the elegant clergy residences of the past have become highly desirable (with appropriate price tags) laity residences of today. She quoted one recent real estate agent as saying “If it ain’t the manor, the rectory is the next best thing”. Their proximity to (or to the access motorways to) London and other large centres ensure they command prices of well over £1,000,000 – some quite a long way over a million, depending upon their state of repair as well as location.

We were all grateful to Margaret for the time and effort she had put in to bring us this information and hope those who were not able to be present will at least get a glimpse of our pleasure in it from this report.

Business

• Our focus for 2012 will be Pride and prejudice, which will celebrate its 200th anniversary since publication in January 2013. The  first three meetings of the year, commencing in January (see Sidebar for dates), will be devoted to discussing this book, volume by volume.
• Our annual Jane’s birthday/Xmas lunch will, this year, also be our 10th birthday celebration. It will be a progressive lunch at the homes of two members. Details will be emailed to members.
• We will discuss asking for a guest speaker, from the list send by JASA, at our January meeting.
• At afternoon tea, member Jenny produced a special cake, suitably inscribed to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the publication of Sense and Sensibility, which Jenny believes was in November. We all felt well treated!
• Quotes were shared as usual but, with our quizmaster absent, our respective grey matters were given a little rest.

* Repeat of a talk, titled “No. 10 or the Rectory”, that Margaret gave at this year’s JASA Country Weekend. The weekend’s theme was Jane Austen and Architecture. 

June 2011 meeting: Secondary sources on Sense and sensibility

Brandon visits Marianne, engraving by CE Brock from Ch. 46 (Public Domain, via Wikipedia)

With thanks to members Jenny, Bill and Sarah for this cobbled together report.

Due to overseas travels, winter chills and special anniversaries, it was a smaller group than usual which met in June to discuss secondary sources on this year’s focus book, Sense and sensibility. Nonetheless, those who attended did manage to cover some interesting ground.

Bill looked at a small part of Richard Jenkyns’ book A Fine Brush on Ivory concerning the question which must, he said, be the ongoing topic for millions of school and undergraduate essays:

Did JA believe sense is right and sensibility wrong?

Jenkyns, he said, suggests she was not quite in control of her technique. Jenkyns also proposes that it is an artefact that we tend to think sense is favoured because Elinor is the ‘focaliser’. This structural feature of the novel, he says, distorts our understanding of what Jane Austen was about, because if you read the novel carefully you see that she mocks too much ‘sense’ and also makes it clear that Elinor did not lack sensibility. Jenkyns also discusses the different meanings of “sensibility” in 1811.

Another member had researched several sources on that issue of endless debate:

Why did Marianne marry Brandon or more to the point what was JA thinking.

Here is what she prepared for the meeting:

WHY DID JANE AUSTEN MAKE THE MARRIAGE BETWEEN MARIANNE AND COLONEL BRANDON SO DISAPPOINTING?

[This of course begs the question that it is disappointing!]

A problem with Jane Austen’s writing is that it is often so dense with meaning and subtle humour that critics and readers alike come up with wildly differing theories about her intentions.

Sense & Sensibility seems to many unsatisfactory, especially in its conclusion. Richard Jenkyns believed that: “the author does not seem to have the working out of the story perfectly under control.” (p.37) However the American professor, Gene W. Ruoff, alerts us to “Austen’s practice in Sense & Sensibility, as it is throughout her novels, to exploit parodically the imbalance between what actually happens and the melodramatic narrative expectations her readers have brought to her fiction. (p. 102)

With this in mind, the idea that Austen wrote Sense & Sensibility as a parody of Richardson’s “Clarissa” throws interesting light on some of the difficulties readers find with the story.

The similarities can be seen in Willoughby’s courtship of Marianne breaking just about all the rules of Regency courtship mentioned by Marilynn Doore: formal means of address, discreet conversation, correspondence and gift giving. Whether there was intimate touching is left to the reader’s imagination. Willoughby instead of pursuing her relentlessly, flees from her and rebuffs her publicly. This is followed by a near fatal illness, Willoughby’s attempt at expiation and the “arranged” marriage with Brandon.

Jenkyns’ sees Brandon as “the most Byronic figure in Jane Austen’s entire cannon – the man in the flannel waistcoat.” (p.188). However, all his heroics happen off stage. The non eventful duel with Willoughby contrasts with that of Lovelace and Col Morden in Italy, during which the former receives mortal wounds. Willoughby is not quite a Lovelace but his confession is that of a sociopath pleading sympathy and entirely centred on self. (Ray p. 11) Both stories involve families whose only interests are in furthering their wealth and status by whatever means.

If we view Sense and Sensibility in this way and are mindful of Hilary Mantel’s belief that Austen’s genius lies “in the capacity to make a text that can give and give, a text that goes on multiplying meanings” (p.76) the seeming awkwardness that some find in the text is easier to understand.

Along the way, Austen makes fun of romance – love at first sight (Marianne and Willoughby compared to Brandon’s devotion), elopements (Brandon and Eliza defying his father), not to mention Marianne rhapsodising about the countryside due to her love of Cowper and Thompson versus Edward’s dour comment about mud.

Elinor’s ability to bear outrageous fortune with “the fortitude of an angel” is played for the humour with the exchanges between Elinor and Lucy similar to the duel of words between Elizabeth and Darcy. She is a much better support to Marianne than Clarissa’s friend.

Marianne constantly misunderstands Brandon as compared to Clarissa being duped by Lovelace. Marianne thinks his sincere appreciation of her musical ability is estimable even though “his pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that ecstatic delight which alone could sympathise with her own.” (p.68) She condemns him for talking about flannel waistcoats “invariably connected with aches, cramps and rheumatism and every species of ailment that can afflict the old and the feeble.” (It has been suggested that the colonel may have resorted to such garments because he felt the cold in England after living so long in India.) We need to remember, of course, that Marianne is only 17. She hates his frequent visits unaware they are due to his concern for her welfare.

On hearing the story of the two Elizas and the duel, her attitude changes so that she no longer avoids him and speaks to him with “a kind compassionate respect.” She even manages a pitying eye and gentleness of voice. And the final triumph along the “romantic” path is reached when Colonel Brandon is assured “that his exertion had produced an increase in goodwill towards himself. Finally when Marianne bursts into tears over Mrs Ferrars unkind treatment of Elinor, Colonel Brandon quite loses control and “rose up and went to them without knowing what he did.” And so it goes on with Austen tantalising us with luke warm statements and denying us any direct speech between the pair.

The parody continues with the confederacy of Edward, Elinor and Mrs Dashwood feeling Col. Brandon‘s “sorrow and their own obligations, and Marianne by general consent, was to be the reward of all.” Not as with Clarissa’s family endeavouring to get control of her fortune but still a sacrificial heroine of sorts.

Marianne’s devotion to Brandon grows out of strong esteem and lively friendship, while Brandon patiently waits for her to recover from her first love. Marianne’s experience with Willoughby, the influence of her sister and the serious reflection she indulged in after her illness, perhaps led to her using sense in making her decision to marry Brandon. She was duly rewarded, instead of “falling sacrifice to irresistible passion as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting.” (p.367)

Sources:

• Austen, Jane, Sense & Sensibility, Penguin Books 1969-1975
• Doore, Marilyn, Love and Courtship in the Time of Jane Austen, Suite 101.com
• Jenkyns, Richard, A Fine Brush on Ivory, Oxford, 2004
• Mantel, Hilary in Literary Genius ed. by Joseph Epstein, Haus Books, London 2007
• Ray, Joan Klingal, “The Amiable Prejudices of a Young (Writer’s) Mind, The Problems of Sense and Sensibility”, Persuasions on-line V.26 No 1 (Winter 2005), Jane Austen Society of North America
• Ruoff, Gene W. Jane Austen’s “Sense & Sensibility”, Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1992

March 2011 Meeting: Sense and Sensibility. Vol. III

It was unfortunate that  this meeting date coincided with JASA’s Country Weekend meeting held in Mittagong as it resulted in only five members being able to attend. There were two apologies.

Funny that, Penguin wins again!

As there was no business to discuss we launched into our discussion of Volume III . For the benefit of those who were not able to be at the last meeting those who were briefly recapped the discussion which centred on the complex nature of Volume II and the fact that there are several threads of the plot being teased out.

One member suggested a musical analogy: Volume I is like a prelude and Volume II has a ‘fugal’ feel about it. What we wondered, could Volume III be compared to? In the second volume, characters are being expanded and the dichotomy between Marianne and Elinor’s characters is brought into more prominence. Marianne’s hysterical reaction to Willoughby’s rejection was explored and one member offered the opinion she had read that Marianne’s prolonged illness was the result of a pregnancy culminating in miscarriage. This idea was very thoroughly considered and argued through.

Willoughby’s unscrupulous behaviour,including his abandonment of Colonel Brandon’s ward, Eliza, Elinor’s almost unnatural, especially for her age, self-control, Mrs Jennings’s kindness but lack of real understanding, and the humour introduced by the interplay between the Palmers were all discussed. We also considered these themes very thoroughly in our Vol. III discussion. (For a detailed discussion of Vol. II you may like to go to Whispering Gums’s blog)

The main point we made in this March meeting was the development of Marianne’s character: she learns, by the end of the novel, to be more restrained whilst Elinor’s emotional side is allowed to surface. The latter, sensible and self-controlled beyond her years finally shows her feelings when she learns Edward is at last free of the grasping, duplicitous Lucy.

Most of us felt that Elinor is a fully developed character from the beginning whereas Marianne grows into a more balanced and sensible young woman. We re-read the passage in the final chapter in which we are told Marianne ‘was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her conduct, her most favourite maxims.’

One member suggested that Marianne is the forerunner of the modern young woman. She didn’t ‘play the games’ society of the time demanded – why shouldn’t a girl in love make advances to the young man she believes returns her love?

We also noted that Colonel Brandon was a constant thread in the novel. His love for Marianne never wavers, his kindness to Edward contributes to the depiction of Elinor’s character  (especially when he asks her to convey his offer of the living to Edward), and the story of Eliza serves the double purpose of helping ‘cure’ Marianne of her infatuation with Willoughby and showing her Brandon’s worth, thus laying the foundation for his eventual winning of her hand in marriage. There was some disquiet among us about the age discrepancy with the thought being raised that he is a father figure for Marianne.

What discussion of an Austen novel would be complete without considering humour? We decided that Mrs Jennings and Charlotte, whilst providing some of the humour, are also kind women and very natural people who are completely unconcerned about the opinion of other people. But the appalling John Dashwood, with his blind devotion to wife Fanny, his sycophantic attitude to his mother-in-law, his blatant love of money and his total misreading of the character and behaviour of others (e.g. his complete unawareness of where Brandon’s true romantic interest lay) make him one of Jane Austen’s greatest comic characters.

Our Quiz Master teased  us with his quiz based on Vol. III, with most of us being glad scores weren’t being kept – many thanks, all the same, QM. We fared little better with our challenge of the quotes but it was all good fun.

Next meeting

At our next meeting on 16th April we will discuss the letters Jane wrote during the period she was preparing the novel, originally written in epistolary form, for publication as the ‘Sense and Sensibility’ we know today. See March 20 post ‘Jane Austen’s letters and Sense and Sensibility’.