Sense & Sensibility, chapter 8: Pro vs. Anti

We should get this out of the way.

I know the age difference rankles a few readers out there. Helena Kelly, author of Jane Austen, the Secret Radical, uses it as the basis of her argument that Col. Brandon is deceitful and a poor match for Marianne.* What Marianne says about him—that he’s old enough to be her father—is technically true: if he had a daughter at eighteen, she would be Marianne’s age. And especially with the recent heightened sensitivity about older men dating very young women, the authorial pairing of Col. Brandon and Marianne raises a few eyebrows. Maybe turns some readers off entirely.

For what it’s worth, as a thirty-something myself, I only view seventeen-year-olds as annoying kids who need to stop wearing their masks below their noses, what's even the point if you don't—

A couple of things to remember: according to the standards of the day, Marianne is eligible for marriage. The social constructs of Regency England allowed, even encouraged, men in their twenties and thirties to view women a decade younger than they (and girls in their teens) as potential wives. For the purposes of literary analysis, I am willing to accept that, because it allows Marianne and Col. Brandon to be on (relatively) equal footing. What matters isn’t their age difference, but the way each express their different maturity levels.

In the previous chapter, we learned that Marianne doesn’t view Col. Brandon as husband material. Partly this is due to his age; partly this is due to what his age means to her: that it has taken away his ability to love and, consequently, his ability to be loved. Marianne is looking for passion and fire and generally acting like she misinterpreted Wuthering Heights (haven’t we all). Col. Brandon, when faced with Mrs. Jennings’ persistent teasing about his partiality for Marianne, is “indifferent” to it. But Marianne, once she finally catches Mrs. Jennings’ meaning, is torn between “laugh[ing] at its absurdity, or censur[ing] its impertinence,” convinced that the mockery is an “unfeeling reflection on the colonel’s advanced years, and on his forlorn condition as an old bachelor.”

That’s right. She thinks Mrs. Jennings is being a big ol’ meanie to poor, sad Col. Brandon.

To be clear, Mrs. Jennings is all for the match. As a woman with two married daughters, she wishes to pair off the rest of the world—and to get a hearty dose of mirth from “raising the blushes and the vanity of many a young lady by insinuations of her power over such a young man.” She thinks Marianne and Col. Brandon are a good match because “he was rich and she was handsome,” a logical conclusion that would probably offend Marianne’s principles. 

Of course, being Marianne, she also declares the pairing “ridiculous” and muses that Col. Brandon would be better off marrying a sad, loveless woman in her late twenties who might “submit to the offices of a nurse, for the … security of a wife.” Elinor, who has yet to perceive Col. Brandon’s true feelings, agrees with her sister that “thirty-five and seventeen had better not have anything to do with matrimony together.” Mama Dashwood defends the colonel’s age, as she’s about 5 years older than him and is certainly capable of feeling some intense emotions. When Marianne complains about his flannel waistcoat being a mark of his advanced years, Elinor teases her about her Romantic-flavored aesthetic ideals: “Confess, Marianne, is not there something interesting to you in the flushed cheek, hollow eye, and quick pulse of a fever?” 

Hilariously, Marianne has no response to this. But that might be because she’s preoccupied with Edward Ferrars’s whereabouts. She’s on the verge of attributing an “illness” to the reason why he hasn’t visited yet. Mama Dashwood recalls that “he sometimes showed a want of pleasure and readiness in accepting my invitation, when I talked of his coming to Barton” and it’s got her a bit worried. Notably, Marianne hasn’t actually asked her sister lately how she feels about Edward (and Elinor hasn’t been forthcoming about her suspicion of his lack of feelings for her).

She attributes some of Elinor’s behavior to her “self-command,” a trait that she seems to dislike but accept in her sister. She’s disappointed that Elinor doesn’t “try to avoid society” to wallow—a pattern of behavior Marianne herself will soon display. It irks her that neither Elinor nor Edward were eager to be alone together at Norland (“Twice did I leave them purposely together in the course of the last morning, and each time did he most unaccountably follow me out of the room,” she complains). Hmm. Looks to me like Mrs. Jennings isn’t the only one who fancies herself a matchmaker around here. Maybe trust Elinor’s instincts on this, Marianne?

And maybe watch out for slippery hills the next time you’re out walking in the rain, too …

Credit to MadMonaLisa for the above illustration.

*I personally believe that Kelly’s is a bad-faith interpretation, as Secret Radical seems determined to undermine the integrity of just about every leading man in Jane Austen literature.