Where We All Grow Up a Little

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I've read this a couple times before, and I guess the last time was about 10 years ago. (Longer than I thought.) In addition, I've probably seen the 1995 movie a dozen times at least since then. What surprises and bemuses me, reflecting on that, is to discover how much there is still to enjoy and notice.

And I did enjoy it.

One thing I'm certain of--reading from a nice old hardcover with wider margins, a larger font, and slightly browned paper makes it easier on my eyes, and that, in turn, makes the words dig deeper. Easier on eyes=easier on brain, I mean. I'd only ever read from tiny-print paperbacks before, and not only is that a less optimal experience, I argue it reduces comprehension. (YMMV.) I feel like I entered into the flow of reading much better than when I was younger reading those cheap editions, and the difference made me love the book all over again.

I like how Jane Austen creates imperfect characters that we are meant to censure at least to some degree but still like, and in fact she seems to have a lot of affection for them. (Not everyone. I'm not including her half-brother and his wife, though we don't precisely hate them. And Edward's mom is just a mean old lady. Willoughby, the disappointing rogue, falls in the middle, where we don't like him a lot but still like him more than he deserves.)

Sir John, for example, knows little beyond his narrow scope of interest--dogs, horses, pretty girls, and maybe his tenants--but is affable and generous to a fault. Mrs. Jennings is a gossip and a busybody, but she is genuinely kind and thoughtful. Near the end we see Marianne realizing that herself when she remembers to thank her for helping her when she was sick, sort of including in her thanks all the overlooked kindnesses from the visit to London. (Marianne had been quite rude for a pretty long time, and Mrs. Jennings never seemed to notice.) Mrs. Dashwood, Elinor and Marianne's mother, is wrong about quite a bit, but she has her heart in the right place. Of course, Marianne gets the most criticism, but she's just a kid, really, and grows up a lot in a pretty short time. We definitely still like her and root for her, especially after she reflects on her actions and starts to show a lot more concern for her sister and others. There's comedy in the foibles of these people--more than I sussed out in previous reads--but no malice.

I can't help but wonder how I would fare under Jane Austen's scrutiny. I'm glad to not find out.

The critic John Bailey wrote the introduction to the edition I have (1927), and while he clearly really enjoys Jane Austen in general and this novel in particular, he's critical of a few things. (Hence the title.) He thinks the way Edward is freed of his promise to Miss Steele is a bit clumsy, and I'll admit that part seems a bit unlikely. And the scene where we discover this, when Edward visits at Barton Cottage and they're asking where Mrs. Ferrars is, works better in the 1995 movie. That is actually my favorite scene, and the way it comes out in the books is much less dramatic. In fact, she skips right from Elinor learning the truth (and leaving the house) to them being engaged:

How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution however, how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told. This only need be said: -- that when they all sat down to table at four o'clock, about three hours after his arrival, he had secured his lady, engaged her mothers consent, and was not only in the rapturous profession of the lover, but in the reality of reason and truth, one of the happiest of men.

Seems like a missed opportunity to show us a sweet scene. But I guess I'll allow it.

I'm not a big re-reader of books, but I'm glad to find lately that some are worth the time and TBR postponement. And I highly recommend editions with bigger print!

View all my reviews