Sense & Sensibility, chapter 19: Visitors Welcome (If We Have To)

There’s no doubt that “idleness” carries some negative connotations, both in modern times and in Jane Austen novels. And I think that’s why I’ve struggled to get a grip on Edward’s character at times: his idleness comes off as laziness. Not just a lack of ambition, but a lack of desire to act. When “he must leave them at the end of a week, in spite of their wishes and his own,” he gives no excuse as to why. He has nowhere he needs to be. He doesn’t like London (where his mom is) and he doesn’t like Norland (where his sister is); “his greatest happiness [is] in being with” the Dashwood girls. So why leave? Because why not, I guess? Edward himself admits that after enrolling at Oxford, “I … have been properly idle ever since.”

It’s that “properly” that catches the reader’s eye, though. On one side of the coin, this looks like Edward mocking his laziness. But David M. Shapard offers a wider perspective: “Idleness was often looked on as honorable, or at least not especially dishonorable, in upper-class society.” So it may serve us better to look at idleness as a neutral state of being. Sir John is a good example of this. An even better example would be someone closer to Edward’s age and position—another young man who has no estate and a meager income. Like … Willoughby, a man who spends his time hunting, visiting neighbors, rescuing young ladies from rainstorms, and leaving abruptly. Once we get Willoughby’s whole story, we’ll be able to judge who did less damage with how he spent his free time. 

But for now, the similarities between the two suitors are stacking up. Elinor, convinced by the ring on Edward’s finger, is “very well disposed on the whole to regard his actions with all the candid allowances and generous qualifications” that she did with Willoughby. Shapard argues that especially since Willoughby gave a solid reason for leaving them, Edward’s lack of excuses makes him look worse. Elinor is willing to blame Mrs. Ferrars’ ill disposition for Edward’s lack of direction, as does Mama Dashwood, who directly asks Edward what he hopes to do with his life. Edward replies that he dislikes what his family has suggested for him—the army, the navy, politics. He “always preferred the church.”

Here’s a fact that it took me forever to dig up: young men couldn’t be ordained until they were 24.

Edward is twenty-three. He has to wait for his career to start because he’s not old enough yet.

There is another reason why Edward dreads settling on a career, but we’ll have to wait a few more chapters for that explanation. Right now, we must say goodbye to Edward and usher in some new characters off the Middleton-Jennings Express. Sir John interrupts Elinor in her thinking corner* (where she hopes to “subdue” her doubts and expectations regarding Edward) by knocking on the window and loudly insisting he introduce his sister-in-law and her husband, the Palmers. He jokes that Marianne “has … run away because we are come[.]” Mrs. Jennings punctures this with some “hallooing” of her own. 

I’m rather inclined to sympathize with Marianne’s complaint that “we have [the cottage] on very hard terms if” they must submit to socializing with the local airheads and their annoying relatives. It’s hard to say of the Palmers which one makes the worst first impression. Mrs. Palmer is daffy and talkative, joining her mother in teasing Marianne about “Allenham” in an overly familiar manner. But then again, Mr. Palmer’s behavior manages to combine the worst of Mr. Bennet and Lady Catherine as he sits down, uninvited, hides behind a newspaper for the whole visit, and makes a pointless remark about the room just before they leave. Sir John really doesn’t come off any better, as he seems to think that the girls will like Mrs. Palmer because she’s “pretty” and shows Marianne off like she’s an ornament (rather telling about how he views young women). Mama Dashwood manages to wriggle out of their dinner invitation. Elinor and Marianne attempt to do the same. But they are at last “obliged to yield.”

Elinor’s caution that she and her sister “must look for change elsewhere” manages to sound both pensive and a bit foreboding. We won’t leave Barton for a few chapters, but change is coming sooner than she thinks.

Meanwhile, the next chapter will be all about the Palmers.

(I’ve put a donate button on my page in the top left corner. If you enjoy these posts, please consider sending a buck or two my way. Just know that you’ve made it easier for me to buy groceries this month.)

*Marianne’s observation of her sister’s “calm affections” should be noted here. She thinks Elinor’s “self-command” reflects poorly on her feelings for Edward, though Marianne is still sympathetic to her sister’s romantic uncertainty. In accordance with her doctrine, she doesn’t pry further. This is more of a character beat than a plot beat, but I might return to it either way.