Sense & Sensibility, chapter 3: A Mother's Instinct

I couldn't source the artist. I found this image on this blog,
which I encourage you to read.

Before joining Elinor as our point-of-view character, here we get a good look at Mama Dashwood’s psyche and how she sees herself as a mother and grieving widow. 

At first blush, Mama Dashwood is far more endearing and sweet-natured than any of her Austen counterparts, so much so in fact that I want to bestow a cutesy nickname on her (I want these moms and aunts to have first names, darn it). She trusts that her step-son will provide for her girls despite previously “believing him incapable of generosity.” She will stick up for Elinor after Marianne—her favorite kid—is rude to her later on. She champions her daughters’ happiness in marriage regardless of materialistic considerations and supports Elinor’s new crush.

Yes, dear reader, we next meet Edward Ferrars, brother of Fanny. He is the eldest son of a wealthy widow who controls how much he stands to inherit (something of a trend in this novel). When he first arrives at Norland is not established, but he ends up coming back to visit several times in the span of six months. At first, Mama only notices that “he was quiet and unobtrusive” and that he doesn’t “disturb the wretchedness of her mind by ill-timed conversation.” After Elinor mentions him to her, Mama Dashwood quickly decides to get to know him. Though “the persuasion of his regard for Elinor perhaps assist[s] her penetration,” she finds “his heart to be warm and his temper affectionate.”

The narrator provides a more conventional introduction for Edward, emphasizing his lack of charisma and overall ordinariness. A lot of his character is unfortunately defined by his family’s ambition for him, as “he [is] neither fitted by abilities nor disposition to answer the wishes of his mother and sister, who [long] to see him distinguished—as—they hardly knew what.” Which is just so laughable and sad. Mrs. Ferrars wants him to ride the coattails of “some of the great men of the day,” which strikes me as honest, but not in a way that reflects well on her. Fanny, meanwhile, is disappointed that he doesn’t own the latest barouche. Basically, the Ferrarses want to use Edward as a pawn to move up in society (they’re not the only ones who use Edward this way, but we’ll get to that later). 

Mama Dashwood sees the good qualities of this “gentleman-like” young man who has enough sensitivity to give his extended family room to process their grief (and let’s face it, he definitely benefits from any comparison with his sister) and concludes that a proposal is forthcoming. “I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love,” she tells Elinor, and her quickness in seeing a relationship before her daughter confirms that one exists won’t be the last time she assumes something about one of her daughters’ romances. She’s also “uninfluenced” by Edward’s in-limbo financial prospects, believing “that difference of fortune should [not] keep any couple asunder who were attracted by resemblance of disposition.” She joyously tells Marianne, “You will gain a brother—a real, affectionate brother.”

It’s a very romantic philosophy, and like everything that gets a bit too romantic in this novel, it has to be subverted. Mama Dashwood’s unconcern about money is a double-edged sword; she neither calculates Edward Ferrars’s fortune nor pays attention to the reduced budget she and her daughters will have once they leave Norland. (It’s Elinor who must “[reject] several houses” that her mom keeps picking out as they’re “too large for their income.”) If you’re like me, right about now you’re probably having flashbacks to when Mrs. Bennet was fussing about “the best warehouses” for wedding dresses and cheerfully house-hunting for a newlywed couple. Mama Dashwood isn’t materialistic, but she is pretty blind about money and budgeting, which is still irresponsible.

Marianne, her confidante here, steps into the spotlight to give her two cents. Though she accepts Edward as Elinor’s admirer, he doesn’t measure up to her own standards. There’s “a something wanting” about Edward, she says—he has “no taste,” no “spirit.” “He admires [Elinor’s artwork] as a lover, not as a connoisseur,” she bemoans. According to her, “[a lover’s] person and manners must ornament his goodness with every possible charm.”

Too much? Maybe. She is, as Mama Dashwood reminds her, still just seventeen. And Marianne’s too-much-ness will return to complicate her life further.

But despite getting swept up in fantasy, they both offer subtle readings on the people around them. Marianne isn’t wrong about Edward: he does lack something—a clear-cut future, for one.* And when Mama Dashwood calls Edward “a real, affectionate brother,” it definitely sounds like she isn’t deluded about John Dashwood’s true priorities. Of course, this isn’t proof that Marianne and her mom are Secretly Right All AlongTM. But it might be a sign that these characters simply do not process the information they observe; rather, that they take what they see and fit it into their own perception of the world. 

We’ll see a stark contrast to this approach in the next chapter, as well as a better assessment of Elinor’s and Edward’s relationship status.

*Mild spoilers: That he is hiding a secret might be another reason why his behavior is low-key, “spiritless,” and “tame,” again according to Marianne.