Making Sense(ibility) of it all

An alien, walking into the average Anglophone bookshop, would be forgiven for thinking that Jane Austen must have been the single greatest writer in the history of literature.  Despite only producing a handful of works, various editions of her novels tend to be scattered across the shelves, dominating the classics section wherever you go.  The fact that our Alien friend probably wouldn't have made it that far, having been distracted by the gigantic vampire section at the front of the shop is a matter for another time - although, even here, you're never far away from Saint Jane...

While I quite like Austen's work, I'm not the biggest of fans myself, and the one novel I've had trouble with in the past is Sense and Sensibility, a book I read a couple of times in my youth.  A spate of reviews recently brought it to mind, and (as I was in the middle of my Women Writers Month) I thought I would give it another try.  Did I end up loving it, or was I able to find out what it is about the book that puts me off ?  Patience, patience...

Sense and Sensibility, as many of you will know, is primarily focused on the lovelives of the two eldest Dashwood sisters, Elinor and Marianne.  After the death of their father, they are forced into a move to pastures fresh by the stinginess of their half-brother (and the meanness of his wife...).  The move takes the sober, rational Elinor away from the man her sister believes her to be engaged to, Edward Ferrars; however, for the impetuous, passionate Marianne, the change of scenery brings with it two very different suitors.  Will the two sisters find love and happiness at the end of the novel?

Yep, stupid question.  A better question, of course, is who the lucky men will be, and how it will all pan out; a relatively happy ending is never in doubt.  Of course, there are many twists and turns before we find the answer, and we have ample opportunity to observe the two girls and marvel at their opposing attitudes to life.  Elinor's clear-headed, over-cautious approach clashes at all points with Marianne's uncompromising quest for the perfect romance...

...and this is exactly what Austen is aiming to do, as the sisters are more than just characters.  They are actually embodiments of two philosophical approaches, with Elinor representing the Enlightenment and Rationalism, while Marianne is the epitome of Romanticism.  The reader is able to compare and choose between two modes of life, the scientific and the natural, the cool and the passionate, the reserved and the uninhibited.  At first, it appears that the choice is an easy one, as much as we would all enjoy running barefoot up and down hills all summer; however, the longer the novel goes on, the more it becomes apparent that both extremes have their disadvantages.

Is it a good book?  Of course, but that is pretty much a given, and not the question I'm trying to answer for myself here.  Do I like it?  Yes, but...  There is a lot to like about Sense and Sensibility, not least the metaphorical rope Austen gives her characters, allowing them to commit social suicide at their leisure, but I have a few reservations which affected my enjoyment of the book.

The first is that unlike Pride and Prejudice and Emma, Sense and Sensibility delivers you into the hand (and mind) of a central character it is very difficult to feel for.  I get the impression that Austen began the book thinking that Elinor was the natural heroine, the sister most people would sympathise with, but the longer the novel goes on, the less clear this impression becomes.  It is also very hard at times to distinguish between what Elinor thinks and what the impersonal narrator is saying.  Occasionally, some very nasty things are said, and people are most cruelly depicted, but it is difficult to tell whose opinion this is...

Another problem is the resolution of the story and the matrimonial choices made.  The last part of the novel seemed rather rushed and contrived, and while Austen certainly justifies her decisions, I can't say I agree with them (I would have chosen different partners for both Elinor and Marianne!).  Certainly, Marianne's recovery and eventual surrender are very weak to the modern eye.

Finally, Sense and Sensibility, unlike other Austen novels I've read, seemed horribly claustrophobic.  I felt trapped inside Elinor's point-of-view (not one I particularly enjoyed) while everything of importance was happening elsewhere.  Each time the sisters announced that they were to up sticks and visit another part of England, I rejoiced, grateful for the change of pace that would ensue.

I know that this restricted female life was the reality for the time, and certainly not restricted to this book; however, it's something that I noticed much more here than in the other Austen novels I've read in recent years.  I am (as someone recently mentioned...) more in my comfort zone in the later Victorian era, and one reason for that is the extended palette the writers use.  After wandering through the vast Dickensian and Trollopian expanses of London, being stuck sewing in a cramped cottage seems a little tame by comparison...

Don't let me put you off reading Sense and Sensibility: it's an excellent novel, and this post has been more about helping myself to understand my feelings towards it than about coming to any objective conclusion as to the worth of the book.  Nevertheless, I fully expect outraged Janeites to disagree - comments and abuse in the usual place, please ;)

Sadly though, that's all I've got time for today.  I've just had a call from the local bookshop - apparently, there's a little green man, clutching a copy of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, and he does not look happy.  Duty calls...

In Which I See Out The Year In Style And Comfort

Alas, as the second innings** of my book blogging journey draws to a close, I am once again agonisingly short of a century, caught in the nervous nineties, set to finish on a creditable, but disappointing, 93.  Of course, my injury-enforced rest towards the end of my innings is largely responsible for this (no runners in book blogging), but I'm still happy overall with my reading in 2010.

One interesting statistic (yes, I know, an oxymoron if ever there was one) is that up until Christmas, I had a quite staggering 32-book run of new reads with not a single reread among them.  This may not be that impressive to some bloggers, but to people like me who specialise in classics, it's a phenomenal run.  However, just like the Aussie cricket team's Ashes dominance, all good things must come to an end, and what better way to break that run, and finish off the year, than with two sweet cover drives from the 19th century?  Padded up for your pleasure today, C.J.H. Dickens and J. Austen, ready to face up to pace and spin alike.  When you're quite ready...

*****

What that all means is that after a hard year of punishing literary grind, I decided to see in the festive season by spending time with a couple of old friends - namely, Great Expectations and Emma.  Dickens' novel is a wonderful, tightly-plotted Bildungsroman, narrated by its hero, Phillip 'Pip' Pirrip, in which he looks back at his childhood and youth, paying close attention to the events set in train by a chance encounter on the Kentish marshes one cold Christmas Eve.  Comic, melodramatic and powerful, Great Expectations is one of Dickens' best works, and however Oprah Winfrey decided upon this novel for her book club choice (and regardless of what you think of her and her club..), it's certainly deserving of as wide an audience as possible.

Emma, while a little narrower in scope, is also worthy of a place in the canon.  The reader accompanies the titular heroine, Miss Emma Woodhouse, through a series of seemingly trivial encounters, misunderstandings and frustrations.  As she tries to pair up all and sundry in her circle, it slowly becomes clear that she too is both the recipient of amorous addresses and the owner of a lonely heart.  Will it all end in tears, or will she be able to cut through the tangle of miscommunication to find true happiness?  Oh, come on - it's Jane Austen!

The main difference between the two novels is the point of view adopted by the writer and the effect this has on our attitude towards the main character.  Dickens uses a first-person narrative, where a presumably middle-aged Pip recounts his youthful (mis)adventures, not concealing any of his blunders and holding his many flaws and imperfections to the light.  In contrast, the third-person style utilised by Austen allows the reader to live through the experiences with Emma and, in a sense, grow with her as she matures and realises the folly of her youthful ideas.  In this sense, Emma is perhaps as much of a Bildungsroman as Great Expectations, if not more so.

It's much more interesting though to consider the similarities between the two books.  One of the more prevalent themes covered is the idea of class differences; their importance and their tendency to blind people to true values.  In his desperate desire to pull himself up and prove himself worthy of Estella, Pip begins to consider Joe and Biddy, the companions of his youth, in a rather unfavourable light and is only too eager to run away to London in an attempt to become a gentleman.  Emma, for whom class is everything and who is only too quick to dismiss people based on their background, also blunders in her dealings because of her prejudices and in doing so almost causes severe hurt to her friends - and, at times, herself.

Another similarity is in the way the writers use language to create a plot and suck the reader into believing the same things the hero(ine) does, before casually revealing a quite different truth.  On a first reading, you are sucked into seeing things from Pip and Emma's point of view, unwitting dupes in the authors' little games.  On rereading, the fun lies in analysing the text for clues as to the authors' intent; a second reading reveals cunning wordplay and an ambiguity which is only fully realised when the reader already knows what is going to happen.  I once read a quote which stated that a classic novel is one where you know what is going to happen but which you can't wait to read anyway - these two novels definitely fall into that category.

Of course, another thing Dickens and Austen have in common is their appreciation of humour in writing.  Dickens expertly captures the confused grasp a child has on their surroundings in the first scenes of Great Expectations, where Pip is at the graveyard, confusing his parents' physical appearance with the shape of their headstones, and the scene where he reencounters Herbert Pocket, and receives casual tips on etiquette (such as hints not to put his knife in his mouth and to avoid draining a wine glass so joyfully that you end up with it balancing on your nose) during a hearty dinner is a wonderfully underplayed example of Dickens' style.  With Austen, however, the humour is less obvious and lies primarily in her characters' being given enough verbal rope to metaphorically hang themselves in the eye of the reader (if that's not mixing too many metaphors!).  Nevertheless, reading Emma certainly brings its fair share of wry smiles and little giggles too.

All in all, there aren't many better ways to close out the reading year than with a couple of old friends, and I was very glad to catch up with Pip and Emma again, and spend a week or so strolling around Little Britain and the Kentish marshes, or paying my respects at Hartfield and Donwell Abbey.  Before, I finish though, there is perhaps one final (and it does pertain to the books' respective endings) crucial difference between their fates.  Pip's future remains a little uncertain, but - being a gentleman - the world is his oyster, and the possibilities are almost endless.  Emma, on the other hand, while ostensibly happier at the end of her novel, has effectively run her race; we can be fairly sure as to what the future will bring.  A sobering thought as to gender differences in the 19th century to send you on your way...

***** 
** The first of a number of cricket-related puns in this introduction - many of you will know why :)

7 - 'Persuasion' by Jane Austen

21st January

Dear Diary,

I have just finished Volume 1 of 'Persuasion', and I have a confession to make: I am beginning to lose faith in Victorian literature.

You have already heard my feelings about 'Jane Eyre', and after the first half of this book, I am again starting to feel disappointed. Anne Elliot is such a boring central character, whose actions are so unnoteworthy that I frequently find myself drawn to the remote control, rather than my book. As for Mary, well, I'm sure she frequently appears at the top of lists of 'Fictional characters you wish had mysteriously been eaten by wolves near the start of a book'.

I'm trying to stay strong, and the introduction of the nautical types brings some interest, but I'm finding it hard to focus on the storyline (which is even worse when you consider that there really isn't one). I've got a shelf-full of Dickens, Hardy and Eliot: what do I do if I get let down again?

Yours in trepidation,

Tony



23rd January

Well, I've just finished 'Persuasion', and I'm happy enough to give 19th-Century literature the benefit of the doubt for now; however, it was a close-run thing. Despite never reaching the dramatic, comedic (and even sarcastic) heights of 'Pride and Prejudice' and 'Emma', the second volume did have some redeeming features.

The first part of this volume used the location of Bath to great effect, and Anne became more elegant, beautiful and wise with each passing page, with the arrival of the Musgroves and co. throwing greater emphasis onto the idiocy of Sir Walter and his eldest daughter. In addition, the intrigues and intricate byplay of the social life in the (not-so) big city approached the human relationships Emma Woodehouse dwelt on (and created). However, the 120-odd pages couldn't fully make up for the weak first volume, especially when the ending was so predictable and soppy. Yes, they may have had to wait donkeys' years to find true love, but after only 236 pages, you can't expect the reader to be cartwheeling around the living room out of joy for them.

Oh well, despite the lack of complete satisfaction, I'll keep on with my plundering of the canon for now, but it may be a while before I'm 'persuaded' to read this book again...

Yours in anticipation of better books to come,

Tony