Piercing the Screen

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the title, ‘Sense and Sensibility’ of Jane Austen’s earliest novel is a reference to the two protagonists, the sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood, who respectively represent these two characteristics. However, this blunt antithesis – the entire ‘two sisters personifying the two qualities of sense and sensibility’ situation seems almost too straightforward – accompanied by the apparent simplicity of the novel’s structure deceives the reader, at first glance, into considering ‘Sense and Sensibility’ as one of Jane Austen’s most elementary works. But a deeper read reveals the complexity of Jane Austen’s thoughts as she conjured this story and consequently, complexity in the relationship between Elinor and Marianne – which rejects the fairly simple schematization that the title and use of two sisters indicate. 

This is most evident in the symbolism of screens. Elinor Dashwood is, in the words of her brother, John Dashwood, ‘in general reckoned to draw extremely well’ (Austen 221) and had, before leaving Norland, drawn a pretty pair of screens for her sister-in-law. When, in Volume II, Chapter XII, they are snubbed by the nasty, malicious Mrs. Ferrars, Marianne is unable to ‘screen’ her anger and cries out in indignation, enthusiastically defending her beloved sister. While this episode is generally not considered among the most remarkable ones in the story, it is essential because it shows the complexity of Jane Austen’s vision. It not only symbolizes Marianne’s rejection of screens and belief that outward forms must exactly project or portray inward feelings (Tanner, 364) but simultaneously represents the screening Elinor performs throughout the novel – she screens her sentiments and, further, attempts to screen Marianne, whose emotions tend to manifest as violent outbursts, for the sake of maintaining social propriety. 

This ‘screening’ is a recurring motif throughout the book and an important aspect of the relationship between Elinor and Marianne. Marianne was, according to the author, ‘everything but prudent,’ – her ‘sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation.’ She would never ‘screen’ her emotions and had an ‘excess of sensibility’. ‘[She] gave [herself] up wholly to [her] sorrow, seeking an increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it.’ (Austen, 8)  Elinor, on the other hand, had strong feelings, ‘but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge… which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught’ (8). Jane Austen recognized that while social norms and decorum often oppressed one’s feelings and repressed one’s expression, a world where everyone was completely honest and always expressed themselves fully would be anarchy because everyone would tell the truth for the sake of their feelings and never any lies for the feelings of others. Her character, Elinor, understands this and therefore acts with tact, selflessly acting as a screen to protect Marianne from the world and the world from Marianne. 

An example of her physical screening of Marianne is when Marianne sees a gentleman approaching and is certain it must be Willoughby. ‘She walked eagerly on as she spoke; and Elinor, to screen Marianne from particularity, as she felt almost certain of its not being Willoughby, quickened her pace and kept up with her.’ (86) Here, Elinor’s proximity shields Marianne from the inevitable embarrassment that would result from her zealously calling out to the wrong man. Later too, Elinor screens her sister to protect her from public scrutiny in the ballroom when Marianne sees Willoughby and she receives his devastating rebuff. ‘Marianne, now looking dreadfully white, and unable to stand, sunk into her chair, and Elinor, expecting every moment to see her faint, tried to screen her from the observation of others, while reviving her with lavender water.’ (168)

We also see Elinor shielding others from the potentially hurtful effects of Marianne’s often brutal candour. In Chapter IV of Volume II (154) Colonel Brandon calls on Mrs Jennings in London. Marianne, thinking it to be Willoughby ‘seemed almost ready to throw herself into his arms, when Colonel Brandon appeared’ and thereafter immediately left the room. Elinor, distressed that ‘a man so partial to her sister should perceive that she experienced nothing but grief and disappointment in seeing him,’ tries to smooth over the situation by profusely describing several ailments to which she can reasonably ascribe her sister’s behaviour. Such screening by Elinor throughout the novel repeatedly reiterates to us her deep devotion for her younger sister, her altruism and diplomacy and her tempering and reconciling powers which make her an indispensable member of that society: indeed, one of the preservers of it. Like a protective screen, she takes the heat of the fire herself – the fire of Marianne’s uninhibited emotional outbursts – to preserve the calm appearance of decorum and minimize negative repercussions towards the one protected.

But Elinor’s unselfish tact doesn’t merely extend to screening Marianne. One of the quintessential aspects of Elinor’s character is her ability – and willingness – to restrain her emotions, even when she suffers great hardship, so as not to give pain to her sister and mother. When she first learns of the long-standing engagement between Edward Ferrars, the man she was in love with, and the scheming, self-interested Lucy Steele, told to her in confidence by the latter herself, although her ‘heart sunk within her, and she could hardly stand;’ (129) she struggles resolutely to suppress her feelings and determines to conceal them from her mother and Marianne. It is a relief to her, to be ‘spared the communication of what would give such affliction to them’ and acknowledges that ‘from their counsel… she could receive no assistance, their tenderness and sorrow must add to her distress.’ (135)

When Marianne learns, four months later, of the engagement, she reacts dramatically to the news and is stunned that it has been borne with such composure, without any intense outpourings of sorrow as such devastating knowledge should, in her opinion, reasonably precipitate. “If the loss of what is most valued is so easily to be made up by something else, your resolution, your self-command, are perhaps, a little less to be wondered at,” she tells Elinor. (246) Elinor responds to her sister’s wonder at this “self-command” in the face of misfortune by saying, “I understand you. You do not suppose that I have ever felt much. For four months, Marianne, I have had all this hanging on my mind, without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature; knowing that it would make you and my mother most unhappy.” (247) This conflict — to screen or not to screen – is, therefore, at the core of the relationship between the Dashwood sisters. 

When the screen is thus removed and Marianne hears her sister’s story, she is forced to realise the parallel between her own experience of love and loss with Willoughby and that of her sister with Edward. Up until that moment, she had experienced her position as ‘primary’ in her family and the narrative that unfolds around her since Elinor’s painstaking screening had resulted in her belief that everything that happened in the novel happened first to her. She had believed herself to be the first sister to fall head-over-heels in love, the first to discover that her lover is engaged to someone else, the first to be put to a kind of social ‘test’ and the first to struggle with her emotions. (Ballaster, xii) Where she had once insisted upon the uniqueness of her situation, lamented persistently, and allowed Elinor to be ‘miserable for [her] sake’ (Austen, 323), she is now aware that her experiences mirrored Elinor’s and that Elinor had suffered in silence, without any overt expression of grief and torment, to protect her and her family. 

She further repents for her treatment of Elinor, who, as she now realises, is by no means devoid of sensibility, and who has consistently shown her love and support for Marianne by going to London because Marianne hoped to find Willoughby there, making up for Marianne’s insolence to their hostess, Mrs Jennings, by displaying great courtesy herself and, a little later, by nursing her affectionately when she fell ill. 

This does not, however, mean that Marianne does not possess great love and esteem for her elder sister – indeed, her rejection of screens gives her the freedom to openly, unrestrainedly, express her love for Elinor, and, when the necessity arises, defend her. She is frank in her concern for her sister when Edward’s behaviour towards her lacks the warmth and ardour of a ‘passionate lover’. She asserts with conviction that her ‘dear’ Elinor, her mother and Edward are the only people whom she is confident would never be ‘so barbarous to bely her’ (179). Moreover, she audaciously defends her sister when she is pointedly slighted by Mrs Ferrars and Mrs John Dashwood and tries to comfort her with ‘too warm, too positive assurances’ (253) of her belief in Edward’s continued affection for her even when the news of his engagement with Lucy is revealed to everyone. 

All in all, the two sisters, Elinor and Marianne and their relationship: the loving tension between them, and their continual contention regarding how to behave in the social construct of early 19th century England which is induced merely by their clever juxtaposition in the various circumstances that constitute the novel, provides the pivot on which the entire story turns. Elinor firmly belongs to the school of thought (Christian or Stoic) that considers virtuous conduct to be an onerous task strongly influenced by strict constraints of society (Tanner, 377). To act honourably, she believes people must adjust themselves to restrictive rules of social conduct and undergo some extent of sacrifice by thwarting their proclivities and reigning in their emotions to prevent their boundless expression. Marianne, on the other hand, is guided by a more Romantic philosophy that leads her to ‘abhor all concealment’ and believes in an idea akin to that of Rousseau: that inherent human impulses and penchants are good, and they are simply curtailed and corrupted by society (Tanner, 377). Thus, she considers the ability to express oneself naturally, without the constraints imposed by society, as critically important. As Claire Tomalin (Jane Austen, A Life) points out, “Sense and Sensibility” is a debate. “Elinor and Marianne act out a debate about behaviour in which Austen compares the discretion, polite lies and carefully preserved privacy of one sister with the transparency, truthfulness and freely expressed emotion of the other.” (qtd. in Datta) 

Therefore, although Marianne certainly has sense and Elinor can hardly be regarded as deficient in sensibility, Elinor and Marianne do respectively represent sense and sensibility. Elinor’s sense, however, and consequent ‘screening’, which for a considerable part of the novel seems to be a good approach to life, results in the repression of her emotions which causes her to struggle internally throughout the novel and paints an impression of her on her family and friends which is not entirely correct. Marianne’s sensibility, on the other hand, albeit refreshing and appealing at the beginning, ultimately results in the gradual and continual deterioration of her body, isolates her from her social circle and to some extent, even from her family, and causes immense pain to the ones who love her. Hence, by the end of the novel, we come to realise that a balance of sense and sensibility is vital. Elinor and Marianne’s personalities thus become like complementary pieces of a jigsaw puzzle – they are, in many ways, harmonizing factors for each other: two sisters adding up to one divided self. 

Works Cited

1. Austen, Jane. Sense and Sensibility. Penguin Classics, 2008.

1. Austen, Jane. Introduction. Sense and Sensibility, by Ros Ballaster, 2008, pp. i-xxx

1. Austen, Jane. Appendix: Original Penguin Classics Introduction. Sense and Sensibility, by Tony Tanner, 2008, pp. 355-383

1. “Screens and screening in Sense and Sensibility.” The Free Library, 2011 Jane Austen Society of North America, www.thefreelibrary.com/Screens+and+screening+in+Sense+and+Sensibility.-a0306241196. 

1. Datta, Sudipta. “To tell or not to tell: ‘Sense and Sensibility’ is as relevant today as it was when it was published more than 200 years ago.” The Hindu, 26 Oct. 2019, www.thehindu.com/books/to-tell-or-not-to-tell-sense-and-sensibility-is-as-relevant-today-as-it-was-when-it-was-published-more-than-200-years-ago/article29795385.ece.