Sense & Sensibility, chapter 30: Food For Thought

When I say that I find Mrs. Jennings to be a fascinating and complex character, don’t take it the wrong way: I’m not about to argue that she’s some overlooked genius hiding her intelligence under a mask of crude good-humor. (I still think she knows the lyrics to inappropriate songs about hedgehogs and magical staffs.) But the motivations behind her actions and thoughts are, themselves, fascinating. And with Marianne’s break-up crisis happening on her watch, Mrs. J proves to have more heart than suspected—while still being hemmed in by her limitations.

A good place to start is to ask, just how seriously does Mrs. J take Marianne’s heartbreak? Given her past behavior, you might think she’d regard it as rather trivial. Indeed, she says to a sobbing MA, “[Willoughby] is not the only young man in the world worth having; and with your pretty face you will never want admirers.” Perhaps just a bit too soon there, Mrs. J. And later that night, she tells Elinor that she’s reverting back to Team Brandon. “Mind me, now, if they an’t married by Midsummer [spoiler: they won’t be]. … It will be all to one a better match for your sister.” Like, I understand her logic, but her timing is insensitive. 

And I also understand Mrs. J’s seemingly out-of-nowhere desire to stuff MA with food, which makes more sense than you might think. See, MA decides to join them for dinner rather than sit in her room. To Mrs. J, it looks like MA intends to draw comfort from food. So her “endeavors to cure a disappointment in love, by a variety of sweetmeats and olives, and a good fire” (which Elinor sees as bordering on the comic) could be read as Mrs. J trying to follow MA’s lead in nursing a broken heart. 

You don’t have to go with me on that interpretation, but the truth is, Mrs. J displays her insight and protective streak elsewhere. Not only does she completely obliterate Willoughby (GOOD), she dispenses some sound financial advice, albeit too late: “Why don’t [sic] he, in such a case, sell his horses, let his house, turn off his servants, and make a thorough reform at once?” When Elinor attempts to explain that no formal engagement ever existed, Mrs. J refuses to believe it, pointing to the not-altogether-appropriate trip to Allenham as proof of the couple’s intentions. (Elinor drops the subject, concluding that “though Marianne might lose much, he could gain very little by the enforcement of the real truth”). Most touchingly, Mrs. J promises Elinor that she won’t speak about Willoughby in front of MA and to remind others to do the same (a promise she keeps throughout the novel). “It must be terrible for you to hear it talked of,” she sympathetically tells Elinor. “I am sure I would not mention a word about it to her for the world. You saw I did not all dinner time.” (This “constitutes significant self-restraint in Mrs. Jennings’s eyes,” Shapard amusingly points out.)

And then we get this gem: “And what good does talking ever do, you know?” Which is either the biggest lack of self-awareness in this book or offers even more insight into Mrs. J’s set of values. If gossiping is a neutral activity, than why be ashamed of it? Or, alternatively, put any value in it?

Either way, Mrs. J shares some gossip about Miss Grey, Willoughby’s bride-to-be: she has 50,000 pounds (!), she just came of age, and her family is strongly implied to have been born in the purple of commerce. Also, there’s some friction between she and her guardians, implying that getting out from under their thumb spurred her into accepting Willoughby’s hand. No word on the length of the courtship, but he left for London in early November and it’s the end of January, so feel free to speculate.

Col. Brandon cannot avoid gossip, either (for what that’s worth), as he admits to Elinor that evening. He actually heard the story from one of Miss Grey’s guardians at Pall Mall. It’s interesting that Austen went with this narrative choice; it means that the reader doesn’t get to see Brandon’s initial reaction to the news. (Shapard points out that realistically, “it is not unlikely that those [in St. James] would know of an important item of news.”) At the same time, he is still a bit distressed as he haltingly asks Elinor about the strength of Marianne’s attachment. He “remain[s] the whole evening more serious and thoughtful than usual,” rather than happy or relieved that Willoughby is out of the picture. There’s more to his behavior than meets the eye.

There will be more Mrs. J moments to champion in the coming chapters—more challenges that reveal her singular mix of common sense, warmth, and gaps in her critical thinking skills. It’s too bad that her model for a good life can’t be replicated by everyone, and that MA resists many of Mrs. J’s remedies for a broken heart. But there is a kindness to her that one Dashwood girl is learning to appreciate—and there’s something to be said for a woman who knows when a girl needs a freakin’ drink.

Next time, it’s story time as Col. Brandon reveals his past doomed romance and the recent disaster in his life brought on by Willoughby.