Sense & Sensibility, chapter 9: To The Rescue

We never really know our neighbors.

Sometimes this just means that the two single women living next door are lesbian Wiccans. And sometimes this means that the married couple down the street have been running a meth lab in their basement for the past several years. (One of these things was true for my neighborhood—guess which one.) Point being, the fact that Sir John Middleton can’t tell the Dashwood girls much about John Willoughby (except who he’s related to) isn’t in itself a red flag. But … it’s not exactly a great sign, either.

Part of the reason why the Dashwoods don’t know their neighbors well—the prominent exception being the Middletons, who they know too well—is because of a lack of transportation. Though Sir John has offered his carriage for use, “the independence of Mrs. Dashwood’s spirit overcame the wish of society for her children; and she was resolute in declining to visit any family beyond the distance of a walk.” Now, far be it from me to suggest that a good-hearted woman can’t be headstrong on occasion (we can’t let the Lady Catherines of the world win), but this decision does put a dent in her daughters’ social prospects. The girls do find “enjoyment” in “the ordinary pursuits which had given to Norland half its charms,” but c’mon—a girl needs a solid friend or two to count on. And I can’t help but wonder if exposure to a wider social circle would have lessened the specialness of our next potential suitor arriving on the scene …  

Willoughby makes a striking first impression, as the volume of illustrations and fan art can confirm. While walking in the rain, Marianne slips and falls down a hill, hurting her ankle. Willoughby’s presence (he’s out hunting, and I guess the rain caught him off guard too) almost seems to be ordained by providence, as even in her distress, Marianne sees in his actions “a rapidity of thought which particularly recommend[s] the [rescue] to her,” and which put her in mind of  “the hero of a favorite story.” Part of why things happen so quickly is because there is little dialogue exchanged between them. Shapard offers this detail: “Being picked up by a man would be considered completely improper, which is why Marianne’s modesty prevents her from asking … him to do that.” Interesting view on consent, there, Regency England. Nevertheless, Willoughby’s acting on instinct appeals to Marianne’s sensibility.

Sir John pops by the next day, as he is wont to do (even though they’re usually busy doing something else), and Marianne tries to grill him about Willoughby. From him, we learn that a) Willoughby hunts, b) he once stayed up all night dancing, and c) he’s next in line to inherit Allenham. He keeps bringing up Col. Brandon’s potential envy—which Marianne dislikes—and teasing her for “setting [her] cap at [Willoughby].” Marianne bristles and chides Sir John for using such a phrase, which he proceeds to use again, too caught up in his joke to take her reprimand seriously. Like his mother-in-law, Sir John seems to assume that any wealthy man is a fair target for Marianne. Both Marianne and Mama Dashwood try to refute this, but when does Sir John ever take a hint?

On the surface, "this tumbling about and spraining of ankles” is all romantic cliché. But in reality, so much of this—the turmoil of the sudden storm, the breathless meeting, the lack of straightforward communication—actually foreshadow the obstacles they will face later. Even the lack of information we get about Willoughby tells us something: though his introduction marks him as a mysterious and exciting stranger, we’ll later find out what secrets he’s hiding and the ramifications of his other impulsive actions. 

But I’m jumping ahead. Right now, all the Dashwood girls admire Willoughby’s “manly beauty and more than common gracefulness.” Marianne herself is convinced that “of all manly dresses a shooting-jacket [is] the most becoming.” Even better, he asks to visit Marianne the day after to check on her, which of course has them all a-flutter. He resides at Allenham Court, a large estate in the neighboring village that “remind[s] [the Dashwoods] a little of Norland” and “interested their imaginations.”

Hm. Hero of their favorite story, huh?

Next time, Willoughby and Marianne find out that they have the same interests—which include bashing Col. Brandon.

Credit to C.E. Brock, of course.