The Dashwood sisters
Seldom have I enjoyed a course more than my current first year seminar on Jane Austen—specifically “Jane Austen and the Challenges of Being a Regency Teenager.” The title of the course isn’t historically accurate since young men and women in the early 19th century didn’t think of themselves as teenagers. Adolescence wasn’t as prolonged as it is today, and young men and women were supposed to grow up as fast as they could. But that doesn’t mean that there weren’t age-related challenges.
My students, drawing on their own recent high school experiences, have discovered many familiar situations in Austen’s novels. With Northanger Abbey, they have compared the gothic novels craze to their own love of Twilight, and they understand only too well what it’s like to enter a dance party knowing no one who is present and how difficult it is to handle pushy men and treacherous “best friends.”
But if they have liked Northanger Abbey, they have loved Sense and Sensibility. A big reason is that they appreciate Austen’s intelligent heroines. They became impatient with Catherine Morland in the earlier book because, good-hearted though she is, she is also overly naïve and easily taken advantage of. Elinor, on the other hand, is one sharp cookie.
We have been talking a lot about how one has to be on high alert in Austen’s society. Slip once, as Edward does, and you may find yourself betrothed to the scheming and ruthless Lucy Steele or married to the vapid Mrs. Palmer. (As Austen writes about Mr. Palmer, “His temper might perhaps be a little soured by finding, like many others of his sex, that through some unaccountable bias in favour of beauty, he was the husband of a very silly woman.”) Marianne is playing with fire as she cavorts with Willoughby although it is also true that her strong values work to protect her from being ruined by him (unlike the unfortunate Eliza, Brandon’s ward).
By reading the novel a half volume at a time (there are three in all), we have been able to enter more fully into the situation of the heroines. For instance, we found ourselves trying to make sense of the men from Elinor and Marianne’s vantage point. Edward seems to be in love with Elinor so why isn’t he showing it? Is it because “he’s just not that into her” (to quote the popular book and television show on dating). And what about Willoughby—he’s dashing and witty and he seems to be serious. But why isn’t there a definite engagement? Or is there an engagement that Marianne is not telling her family about? Should someone ask or would that be intrusive? Should that someone be the sister or the mother? And what are we to make of a mother who seems to be her daughter’s friend rather than parent, forcing the parent role upon the older sibling?
(A basic ground rule of the class is that, if a student has read ahead, he or she is absolutely forbidden to give any indication of what is to come.)
To answer these questions, we shift back and forth between the characters in the book and the students’ own experiences. Because we have established a high level of trust in the classroom, students have proved remarkably forthcoming. This has the advantage of making clear the stakes in Austen’s fiction. It also means that the students go burrowing into Austen’s prose to detect nuance. In the process of doing so, they come to appreciate Austen’s wit and her skillful use of language. They have learned that she is a master of comic understatement and subtle sarcasm. They marvel at the way she slices up the fools and the knaves. In a recent class we said we liked the way the author gives us credit for being smart enough to pick up on her jokes.
In one class we discussed the age-old question (dating at least as far back as Plato’s Republic) about whether it is better to be principled or happy—and whether the unprincipled can indeed be happy. The issue arises because Edward has promised marriage to Lucy Steele and then falls in love with Elinor, who he realizes will make him far happier. So should he stick to his promise (engagements were far more serious in that time period) or live a life that is less happy? My students at first thought the answer was easy—of course he should drop Lucy and marry Elinor—but they came to appreciate Edward’s heroism and why he feels he has to be true to his word.
We also discussed whether the villains, who all seem to end up rich and happy, are in fact happy. (See my post on this issue here.) The students were not as convinced as I am that John and Fanny, Lucy and Robert, and Mrs. Ferrars are sufficiently punished by being forced to perpetually live with, and fight with, each other. If you think you’ve gotten what you want, does that automatically make you happy? Philosophers have been debating that question for centuries.
I can’t do justice to all the issues we have broached so I’ll conclude with one final story. The class has 14 women and 2 men (not unusual for a Jane Austen class). At one point I mused that Austen seems to be a lot harder on women than on men—the female villains are more prone to be vicious and malevolent (Fanny Dashwood, Lucy Steele, Mrs. Ferrars), seeking not only to get their way but also to wound in the process. The men, I noted, aren’t innocent but their sins seem more the results of thoughtlessness and weakness.
A number of my women students affirmed that women have the capacity to be mean-spirited in this way. One gave, as an example, someone she knew who used a tactic used in the book: Willoughby’s fiance forces him to pen a letter to Marianne putting an end to their relationship whereas in this instance a message on Facebook (written by the woman under the name of the man) functioned the same way. Different medium but same tactics. Who says that the times have changed?
A very funny moment occurred when a student turned to the two male students and told them they were getting an invaluable education: they were learning what women were like behind closed doors.
Of course, if Austen’s villains aren’t as low as her villainesses, neither are her heroes as magnificent as her heroines. Over and over the students talked how much they appreciated the intelligence, the integrity, and the fortitude of both Elinor and Marianne. As we watched “Marianne grow up and Elinor loosen up” (to quote another student), we were all inspired. It was values education of the highest order.
