Sense & Sensibility, chapter 41: It's All In The Family

Welcome back to Day #254 of the worst vacation ever. Oh, you think I’m exaggerating? Let’s recap: younger sis Marianne recently got dumped via text message, older sis Elinor had to suffer through a friendship with her rival while everyone resented her for piquing the interest of said rival’s (secret) fiancé, said fiancé was temporarily homeless, and now said fiancé has been gifted a living that will render him capable of marrying said rival.

I quit. Goodbye, London. Let’s get a Big Ben keychain, take a selfie with a red phonebooth, and blow this popsicle stand.

Sadly, first we hear about Lucy’s triumph—although, it appears that mixed in this triumph is some actual, dare I say, gratitude toward Elinor. She’s ready to “give Elinor that credit which Edward would have” and declares Elinor to be “capable of doing anything in the world for those she really valued.” And so now I’m wondering if this is the pay-off to the set-up from before when Lucy asks Elinor to try to influence John Dashwood into giving a living to Edward. Does Lucy think Elinor came through for them after all? It appears so. Of course, she’s still secretly plotting to steal Col. Brandon’s chickens, so I don’t think her moral compass has changed one jot.

Speaking of broken moral compasses, it’s time to pay a visit to the Dashwoods. And once again, it’s up to Elinor to perform this courtesy visit (MA doesn’t want her to go and Mrs. J doesn’t want to be in Fanny’s company, since she, you know, kicked her cousins out of her house). After Elinor is awkwardly turned away, John hurries out to greet her “accidentally.” Not buying it. Remember what Freud said about accidents? As we’ll see, Fanny is indeed at home and doesn’t have any reason to lie to Elinor—other than, of course, her own petty spite. 

John wants to go over this Delaford living business. He starts calculating how much more money Col. Brandon would make if he were to “hold the living till the person to whom the Colonel has really sold the presentation, is old enough to take it.” He simply can’t believe that Edward has been selected to take the living rather than temporarily hold it. “Well, I am convinced that there is a vast deal of inconsistency in almost every human character,” he declares, unable to recognize the generosity and kindness in Col. Brandon’s gift.

Happily, we need not worry about “inconsistency” in John Dashwood’s particular values system. He stresses the importance of keeping the news that her son won’t go starving from Mrs. Ferrars, who “will feel as much as if she had never discarded him.” When Elinor dares to question this—“She would not be so weak as to throw away the comfort of a child, and yet retain the anxiety of a parent!”—John sees an opportunity to teach Elinor about the gaps in her knowledge of “human nature.”

In case anybody is missing the irony here, Elinor is subtly criticizing John in expressing “anxiety” for the family members he himself has left behind. Thankfully, John is too big-brained to understand this in the moment, as he is too busy sympathizing with Mrs. Ferrars and condescending to Elinor to put two-and-two together. His other “anxiety”—that the fabled Miss Morton might pair up with the all-too-real Toothpick Bobby—also falls on unsympathetic ears, as Elinor snarks that Miss Morton doesn’t seem to care which one she ends up with.

But where John insults most is in his attempt to assure Elinor that the Ferrars women would have been considerably less insulted had Edward ended up secretly engaged with Elinor instead of Lucy. His wife, he says, “would be glad to compound now for nothing worse.” Then he asks her if she’s seen Col. Brandon and the size of his estate lately.

It’s so rare that you meet a person who knows just what to say.

And before I even have time to let my disgust simmer, in walks Toothpick Bobby himself—and he manages to top his brother-in-law in this race to the bottom. He’s enjoying being the only son so much that Elinor is thoroughly disgusted with him (moreso than with John for the effect his inaction has had on her own life). She comes down hard in her judgment as she concludes that Bobby’s new position in his family was “earned only by his own dissipated course of life, and [his] brother’s integrity.” It’s a good turn of phrase; Shapard’s annotations point out that Elinor’s thoughts (and dialogue) are well-structured and organized. Occasionally this means she sounds similar to the narrator, but here I think it’s clear that Elinor’s righteous anger is fueling her judgments.

Toothpick Bobby continues to prove those judgments to be accurate. Although he does give a surprisingly accurate description of Edward’s character (“a very good-hearted creature” with somber “manners”), he’s in hysterics over “the fanciful imagery” of his brother carrying out the mundane duties of a country clergyman. He proves that a) he doesn’t know his brother’s inner feelings and b) that he’s unaware of his own limitations as he insists that he could’ve prevented the coupling of Lucy and Edward if he’d known and declaring that the “awkward country girl” is just Edward’s type. Bobby’s really got his finger on the pulse, folks.

And because bad things come in threes, Fanny at last comes down to properly greet Elinor with “an attempt at cordiality in her behavior.” Now that Elinor is no longer the pebble in Fanny’s rose-shoe, Fanny can’t act resentful around her. Meanwhile, John prances around them all as he tries to make Fanny’s half-hearted “exertions” seem more benevolent than they actually are. 

Is this what triumph feels like? I want a refund.

Next time, we are leaving London. I mean it. Don’t make me turn this coach around.