Sense & Sensibility, chapter 32: Right Where You Left Me

To anyone who’s wondering, I’ve been utilizing a lot of Taylor Swift lyrics for Marianne’s chapters lately. It is scary how well some of her break-up songs apply to MA’s current mindset.

But before we get into that, we need to take stock of how everyone else is feeling about the Willoughby drama. Now, it’s important to remember that what happened with Eliza the Younger (including the duel) doesn’t appear to be well-known. Sir John, Mrs. Jennings, Mrs. Palmer, and Lady Middleton only know about Willoughby’s transgression against MA. Their collective denouncement shows that his behavior toward MA, by itself, is serious business (I mean, Sir John is the nicest guy in the book and even he intends to cut their friendship off). At the same time, this isn’t going to hamper Willoughby’s social standing, especially as Lady Middleton intends to visit the new Mrs. Willoughby as soon as they’re married (which happens in this chapter). And Mrs. Palmer’s version of showing “sympathy” to MA’s plight is to gossip to Elinor about “what coachmaker’s the new carriage was building, by what painter Mr. Willoughby’s portrait was drawn, and at what warehouse Miss Grey’s clothes might be seen.” She’d fit right in with “The Gossips.” Where’s Maurice Chevalier when you need him?

It appears, however, that Mama Dashwood was let in on the secret, as her letters to her daughters express “a disappointment hardly less painful than Marianne’s, and an indignation even greater than Elinor’s.” She advises that MA stay in London for the time being, worried that “everything” about Barton Cottage “would be bringing back the past [Willoughby] in the strongest and most afflicting manner.” She also wants her daughters to visit John and Fanny, who will soon be in town. (Guess which Fanny-centered chapter I am particularly looking forward to.) Mama is sure that MA won’t run into Willoughby anymore because “his acquaintance must now be dropped by all who called themselves her friends.” So goodbye, Lady Middleton.

Elinor faces the brunt of all this, silently suffering as she is wont to do, “obliged to listen day after day to the indignation of them all.” Lady Middleton provides “a great comfort” to her, as she’s the only one “who would meet [Elinor] without feeling any curiosity after particulars, or any anxiety for her sister’s health.” Of course, we’re told that Lady Middleton soon forgets what Willoughby did to MA, so her discretion springs from indifference rather than consideration of Elinor’s feelings. Elinor, “sometimes worried down by officious condolence to rate good-breeding as more indispensable to comfort than good-nature,” still values compassion 

But how is MA holding up under all this? Well, there’s some good news and some not-so-good news. First of all—and perhaps most important—she wholeheartedly believes Col. Brandon’s story. This has the effect of instilling a “respect” toward Col. Brandon that she ought to have shown previously, but hey, better late than never. She feels for Eliza the Younger, but “the doubt of what [Willoughby’s] designs might once have been on herself, prey[s] altogether so much on her spirits” that she becomes tight-lipped about her feelings. And though she’s more demonstrative of her sympathy for Brandon, she’s not exactly feeling sociable. When Brandon fails to make a play for MA, a confused Mrs. J concludes that he’s moving from one sister to the other. Of course, Brandon doesn’t expect much from MA in her current condition and Elinor can only hope that MA’s “good-will” might be “farther augmented hereafter.” 

But all this is secondary to MA’s depression, as “she [feels] the loss of Willoughby’s character yet more heavily than she had felt the loss of his heart.” This distinction matters. Just the suggestion that Willoughby might have planned to seduce MA as he had seduced Eliza is enough to make her question Willoughby’s honor as well as his sincerity. Later, we will get some clarification on his “character” (almost too much to handle, I’d argue), but for now things look pretty dire. When MA cries for him, Elinor* takes it as a sign that “she [feels] it to be impossible” that Willoughby is capable of such deeds. Her subsequent behavior, however, shows that MA knows—or senses—that such a capability exists even in the man she loves.

But now let’s lighten the mood! Here come … the Steele sisters. Yay. Lucy is immediately on Elinor’s case, crowing about how delighted she is to find her new BFF still in London even though she thought Elinor would be gone by now. Delighted, she proclaims! Elinor is almost crushed under the weight of this anvil-sized hint that Lucy does so not want her to be here. Meanwhile, Anne is indulging in Mrs. J’s teasing about the mysterious Doctor who drove them to London in his TARDIS and is totally going to settle down with Anne, as if we all aren’t aware that Rose is his true love. Anyway, Anne is exactly the kind of person who reinforces Mrs. J’s belief that all single women want to be teased about their dating life, which is why I’m done with her. Lucy continues to pick on Elinor and Anne suggests they all rush into MA’s bedroom, and Elinor is in her personal hell.

And she hasn’t even met up with Fanny and John yet.

Next chapter, the Dashwoods cross “fop” off their London High Society bingo card and John is anxious for his sisters’ futures.

*Shapard connects MA’s situation with Elinor’s, writing, “while blaming Edward for some of his behavior at Norland, [Elinor] has no grounds for a severe reproach and therefore can continue to esteem him.”