Sense & Sensibility, chapter 10: An Officer And A Gentleman

It’s funny that as soon as we meet Willoughby—or at least, as soon as Willoughby meets Marianne—the subject swivels between he and Col. Brandon.

The impression Willoughby makes on Marianne here is just a continuation of the one he made last chapter. Through the summation of their long conversation, we find out that Willoughby dances, sings, and reads as well as hunts. His good-natured approach helps Marianne shed her “embarrassment” over the whole taking-her-up-in-his-arms thing. They learn that “[t]heir taste [is] strikingly alike” and when “any difference appear[s] … it last[s] no longer than till the force of [Marianne’s] arguments and the brightness of her eyes could be displayed.” Marianne has definitely entered the chat, and they talk “with the familiarity of a long-established acquaintance.” 

Witnessing the sparkling conversation between he and her sister, Elinor observes that they “will soon have exhausted each favorite topic. Another meeting will suffice to explain his sentiments on picturesque beauty, and second marriages, and then you can have nothing farther to ask[.]”  There is a degree of light-hearted mockery in her tone (Mama Dashwood recognizes it as such), but Marianne retorts with double the sarcasm: “I have erred against every common-place notion of decorum! I have been open and sincere where I ought to have been reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitful.”* 

Smackdown! Who wants to guess that this is a reference to Elinor’s modest behavior around Edward? Way harsh, MA. But part of it might be that she feels like she has to defend herself. Marianne feels as though she has made a real connection—twin souls meeting and all that. Subsequent visits with Willoughby only reinforce this impression: “He was exactly formed to engage Marianne’s heart,” though it’s heavily implied that he often takes her lead on how to express himself.

Elinor likes him as well, but does notice that his attention to Marianne seems excessive. Not in a red flag way, but in a generally impolite way. His habit of “hastily forming and giving his opinion of other people” leads her to conclude that he has no sense of “caution.” Willoughby openly disdains the Middletons and Mrs. Jennings, which feeds into Marianne’s low tolerance of their neighbors. The timing is particularly sad because Elinor has finally noticed that Col. Brandon, whose “reserve appear[s] [to her] rather the result of some oppression of spirits, than of any natural gloominess of temper,” is in fact quite taken with Marianne. This, coupled with the rumors of “past injuries and disappointments,” earns her “respect and compassion” for the colonel. 

So of course Marianne and Willoughby pick on him.** “Brandon is just the kind of man … whom every body speaks well of, and nobody cares about,” Willoughby complains. People like Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings approve of Col. Brandon (and it’s Col. Brandon by the way, Johnny Boy), which, he argues, reflects poorly on the older man. Willoughby claims he “has everybody’s good word and nobody’s notice” which is a blatant lie, as Elinor just told him that she “never see[s] [Col Brandon] … without taking pains to converse with him.” She astutely points out that since “their praise is censure, your censure may be praise; for they are not more undiscerning, than you are prejudiced and unjust.”

Okay, okay—I like Elinor here. Because Willoughby and Marianne are behaving badly, without provocation,*** and they need a reality check. Willoughby teasingly explains that Col. Brandon “has found fault with” him, that Willoughby “cannot persuade him to buy [his] brown mare,” and that Col. Brandon’s wealth means he has “more money than he can spend.”

Hm. Anyone notice a theme in Willoughby’s critici$m? It’s telling that the more Willoughby talks about Col. Brandon, the more he reveals about himself. Not to mention that the first time we hear directly from Willoughby, he’s not reciting poetry or flattering Marianne, but talking shit behind someone’s back. I’m swooning.

Marianne is even more unfair, declaring that Col. Brandon “has neither genius, taste, nor spirit. … [H]is understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no ardor, and his voice no expression.” Elinor (the MVP of this chapter) calls her out on this condemnation, as Marianne’s characterization relies “on the strength of [her] imagination.” Marianne’s rejection might be a manifestation of her dislike of Mrs. Jennings’ incessant teasing (though it has lately subsided now that she and Willoughby have paired up). It’s also an indication of her youth and relative immaturity; in scorning Col. Brandon, she groups him with their other neighbors, who also lack “genius” and “taste,” and in Lady Middleton’s case, “spirit.” 

Yeah, well, there’s something to be said for having too much “spirit,” too. Next time, we’ll take a break from one couple and catch up with Elinor, who’s feeling more lonely than she’s been letting on.

Credit for the illustration goes to (takes big breath) Christiana Mary Demain Hammond.

*Interestingly, it’s Marianne who brings up the point about decorum. Elinor didn’t say a word about impropriety.

**Reader Miriam R. pointed out to me that we’ve seen this dynamic before in Pride & Prejudice, where Lizzy and Wickham take great pleasure in trash-talking Mr. Darcy.

***I have a hypothesis that Willoughby heard about Col. Brandon’s interest in Marianne and he wants to make sure that the colonel isn’t a romantic rival. But nothing in the text supports this, so I leave it here as speculation.