

|
Sense and Sensibility (Paperback)
by Jane Austen
Category:
Literature, Fiction, Classic |
Market price: ¥ 78.00
MSL price:
¥ 68.00
[ Shop incentives ]
|
Stock:
In Stock |
MSL rating:
Good for Gifts
|
MSL Pointer Review:
Witty, and evocative, the novel is a sharply detailed portraiture of the decorum surrounding courtship and the importance of marriage to a woman's livelihood and comfort. |
If you want us to help you with the right titles you're looking for, or to make reading recommendations based on your needs, please contact our consultants. |
 Detail |
 Author |
 Description |
 Excerpt |
 Reviews |
|
|
Author: Jane Austen
Publisher: Bantam Classics
Pub. in: December, 1982
ISBN: 0553213342
Pages: 352
Measurements: 6.9 x 4.2 x 0.8 inches
Origin of product: USA
Order code: BA00801
Other information: ISBN-13: 978-0553213348
|
Rate this product:
|
- Awards & Credential -
"As nearly flawless as any fiction could be." - Eudora Welty
|
- MSL Picks -
Published in 1811, Sense and Sensibility has delighted generations of readers with its masterfully crafted portrait of two sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood. Forced to leave their home after their father's death, Elinor and Marianne must rely on making good marriages as their means of support. But unscrupulous cads, meddlesome matriarchs, and various guileless and artful women impinge on their chances for love and happiness. The novelist Elizabeth Bowen wrote, "The technique of [Jane Austen's novels] is beyond praise... Her mastery of the art she chose, or that chose her, is complete.
This Modern Library Paperback Classics edition contains a new Introduction by Pulitzer Prize finalist David Gates, in addition to new explanatory notes.
(quoting from The Publisher)
Target readers:
Any reader who appreciates classic novels or the humourous and romantic writting style.
|
Jane Austen was born on December 16, 1775, in the village of Steventon, Hampshire. Where her father was the rector. She was the seventh child in a boisterous family of six boys and two girls. Reading and playacting were favorite family pastimes, and Austen began writing as a young girl. Her Juvenillia, written between 1787 and 1795, survive in three notebooks and include Lady Susan, a shot novel-in-letters. In 1796 she completed another epistolary novel called Elinor and Marianne, later revised to become Sense and Sensibility. In 1797 she finished the first version of Pride and Prejudice, called “First Impressions.” Northanger Abbey, the last of the early novels, was written in 1798 or 1799 as “Susan.”
Until 1801, when her father retired and the family moved to Bath, Austen enjoyed a comfortable life, mixing in the best society in the neighborhood, keeping a carriage and a pair of horses, and attending dances at the stately homes of the local gentry. Neither she nor her sister Cassandra married, but the reason for this remains conjectural, as Cassandra burned or censored Austen’s surviving letters after her death. The eight years following the move from Steventon were evidently unsettled and unhappy ones. The Watsons, her only writing from this period, was never completed. But from 1809, when settled again in her beloved Hampshire, until her final illness in 1817, she lived a productive life in a pleasant cottage in Chawton provided by her wealthy brother Edward.
In 1811, Sense and Sensibility was published anonymously: the title page stated only that it was “By a Lady.” Immediately successful, this first novel was followed by Pride and Prejudice in 1813 and Mansfeild Park in 1814. Emma, written between 1814 and 1815, was “respectfully dedicated” at royal command to George IV. In 1816, already in declining health, Austen wrote Persuasion and revised “Susan” into Northanger Abbey. Her last work, Sandition, was left unfinished at he death on July 18, 1817. Austen’s identity as an author was announced to the world posthumously by her favorite brother, Henry, who supervised the publication of Northanger Abbey and Persuasion in 1818.
|
In 1811, Jane Austen’s first published work, Sense and Sensibility, marked the debut of England’s premier novelist of manners. Believing that “3or 4 families in a country village is the very thing to work on,” she created a brilliant tragicomedy of flirtation and folly. Romantic walks through lush Devonshire and genteel dinner parties at a stately manor draw two pretty sisters into the schemes and manipulations of landed gentry determined to marry wisely and well. Neither sense nor sensibility can guarantee happiness for either - as romantic Marianne falls prey to a dangerous rascal, and reasonable Elinor loses her heart to a gentleman already engaged. Wonderfully entertaining yet subtle and probing in its characterizations, Sense and Sensibility richly displays the supreme artistry of a great English novelist.
(MSL quoting from The Publisher)
|
Sense and Sensibility, the first of those metaphorical bits of "ivory" on which Jane Austen said she worked with "so fine a brush," jackhammers away at the idea that to conjecture is a vain and hopeless reflex of the mind. But I'll venture this much: If she'd done nothing else, we'd still be in awe of her. Wuthering Heights alone put Emily Brontë in the pantheon, and her sister Charlotte and their older contemporary Mary Shelley might as well have saved themselves the trouble of writing anything but Jane Eyre and Frankenstein. Sense and Sensibility, published in 1811, is at least as mighty a work as any of these, and smarter than all three put together. And it would surely impress us even more without Pride and Prejudice (1813), Mansfield Park (1814), and Emma (1815) towering just up ahead. Austen wrote its ur-version, Elinor and Marianne, when she was nineteen, a year before First Impressions, which became Pride and Prejudice; she reconceived it as Sense and Sensibility when she was twenty-two, and she was thirty-six when it finally appeared. Like most first novels, it lays out what will be its author's lasting preoccupations: the "three or four families in a country village" (which Austen told her niece, in an often-quoted letter, was "the very thing to work on"). The interlocking anxieties over marriages, estates, and ecclesiastical "livings." The secrets, deceptions, and self-deceptions that take several hundred pages to straighten out-to the extent that they get straightened out. The radical skepticism about human knowledge, human communication, and human possibility that informs almost every scene right up to the sort-of-happy ending. And the distinctive characters-the negligent or overindulgent parents, the bifurcating siblings (smart sister, beautiful sister; serious brother, coxcomb brother), the charming, corrupted young libertines. Unlike most first novels, though, Sense and Sensibility doesn't need our indulgence. It's good to go.
In the novels to come, Elinor Dashwood will morph into Anne Elliott and Elizabeth Bennet (who will morph into Emma Woodhouse); Edward Ferrars into Edmund Bertram, Mr. Knightley, Henry Tilney, and Captain Wentworth; Willoughby into George Wickham and Henry Crawford. But the characters in Sense and Sensibility stand convincingly on their own, every bit as memorable as their later avatars. If Austen doesn't have quite the Caliban-to-Ariel range of a Shakespeare, she can still conjure up and sympathize with both Mrs. Jennings-the "rather vulgar" busybody with a borderline-unwholesome interest in young people's love lives, fits of refreshing horse sense, and a ruggedly good heart-and Marianne Dashwood, a wittily observed case study in Romanticism, a compassionately observed case study in sublimated adolescent sexuality, and a humorously observed case study in humorlessness. "I should hardly call her a lively girl," Elinor observes to Edward, "-she is very earnest, very eager in all she does-sometimes talks a great deal and always with animation-but she is not often really merry." Humorlessness, in fact, may be the one thing Marianne and her eventual lifemate, Colonel Brandon, have in common. (Sorry to give that plot point away; it won't be the last one, either. So, fair warning.) The minor characters have the sort of eidetic specificity you associate with Dickens: from the gruesomely mismatched Mr. and Mrs. Palmer to Robert Ferrars, splendidly impenetrable in his microcephalic self-complacency. The major characters, on the other hand, refuse to stay narrowly "in character"; they're always recognizably themselves, yet they seem as many-sided and changeable as people out in the nonfictional world.
Elinor makes as ambivalent a heroine as Mansfield Park's notoriously hard-to-warm-up-to Fanny Price. She's affectionately protective of her sister Marianne yet overfond of zinging her: "It is not every one who has your passion for dead leaves." She's bemused at Marianne's self-dramatizing, yet she's as smug about suffering in silence as Marianne (who "would have thought herself very inexcusable" if she were able to sleep after Willoughby leaves Devonshire) is proud of suffering in Surround Sound. She can be treacherously clever, as when Lucy Steele speculates (correctly) that she may have offended Elinor by staking her claim to Edward: " 'Offended me! How could you suppose so? Believe me,' and Elinor spoke it with the truest sincerity, 'nothing could be farther from my intention, than to give you such an idea.' " Yet she can also be ponderously preachy: "One observation may, I think, be fairly drawn from the whole of the story-that all Willoughby's difficulties, have arisen from the first offense against virtue, in his behaviour to Eliza Williams. That crime has been the origin of every lesser one, and of all his present discontents." (In the rest of Austen, only the intentionally preposterous Mary in Pride and Prejudice strikes just this note: "Unhappy as the event may be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful lesson; that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable... "). Is Elinor simply an intelligent young woman overtaxed by having to be the grown-up of the family? Or is she an unconsciously rivalrous sibling, sick of hearing that her younger, more beautiful sister will marry more advantageously? Or both? Or what? It's not that Austen doesn't have a clear conception of her-it's that she doesn't have a simple conception. Elinor is the character you know the most about, since Austen tells most of the story from her point of view, and consequently she's the one you're least able to nail with a couple of adjectives or a single defining moment.
Edward bothers us, too. He's a dreamboat only for a woman of Elinor's limited expectations: independent-minded yet passive and depressive, forthright and honorable yet engaged in a book-long cover-up. (It's a tour de force on Austen's part to present a character so burdened with a secret that we see his natural behavior only long after we've gotten used to him.) At his strongest and most appealing-to Elinor, at least-he's a clear-your-mind-of-cant kind of guy: "I am not fond of nettles, or thistles, or heath blossoms... A troop of tidy, happy villagers please me better than the finest banditti in the world." But he can also be a Hamlet-like whiner, complaining about his own idleness and vowing that his sons will be brought up "to be as unlike myself as possible. In feeling, in action, in condition, in every thing." For my money, Edward is the least likable of Austen's heroes, while his opposite number, Willoughby, is the most sympathetic of her libertines: smarter than Pride and Prejudice's Wickham (a loser who gets stuck with the "noisy" and virtually portionless Lydia Bennet) and more warmhearted than Mansfield Park's textbook narcissist Henry Crawford. Willoughby may strike trendy Wordsworthian poses with his effusions on cottages ("I consider it as the only form of building in which happiness is attainable"), but at least he has enough sense to abhor his own callowness, and enough sexy boldness to discompose even the rational Elinor. "She felt that his influence over her mind was heightened by circumstances which ought not in reason to have weight; by that person of uncommon attraction, that open, affectionate, and lively manner which it was no merit to possess... " His opening line when he at last explains to her what he's been up to ("Tell me honestly, do you think me most a knave or a fool?") is one of those Byronic flourishes that make him the person in Sense and Sensibility you'd most want to dine with and least want to trust.
|
|
View all 10 comments |
John Austin (MSL quote), USA
<2007-03-13 00:00>
"Sense and Sensibility" was the first Jane Austen novel to achieve publication. Its reception was just sufficient to open the way for the publication of more of her novels, and the next to be published was "Pride and Prejudice". It has been a matter of speculation ever since whether, if nothing other than "Sense and Sensibility" had been published, Jane Austen would be remembered today. Those who believe this novel would not have sustained her reputation offer several reasons. They cite a lack of comic characters, a lack of male characters who excite interest or stimulate the imagination, an overabundance of unmemorable minor characters, and prose that is sometimes too heavily overworked.
Those who believe this novel could alone preserve Jane Austen's fame produce different arguments. They cite the depiction of the two sisters Elinor and Marianne and their approximation to the concepts of sense and sensibility, the famous passage near the beginning in which the wife of John Dashwood, the sisters' half brother, pares down the deathbed promise her husband made to his father to provide financial support to John's half-sisters, and to Jane Austen's detached but involved, good-humored but stern narrative stance.
Having re-read the novel recently for the umpteenth time, I could see the merit in all these arguments. Nevertheless the reading experience held me enthralled. Accounting for this is difficult. I read hundreds of pages in which women talk about men. I read of a world where every quality, every characteristic, every manner is put in little boxes, clearly labeled, and arranged in order from desirable to base. These things do not usually appeal to me. Ultimately, I believe it is Jane Austen the storyteller that casts the spell. My sense and sensibility are alike spellbound.
Readers who like to refer to film or television adaptations to help their reading of the classics, will benefit from seeing a 1995 version of "Sense and Sensibility" adapted, scripted and starring the English actress Emma Thompson.
|
Jana Perskie (MSL quote) , USA
<2007-03-13 00:00>
Jane Austin is one of my favorite authors. I think that Persuasion is her best novel, with both Sense And Sensibility and Pride And Prejudice tied for second place. Sense And Sensibility is an absolutely wonderful book, capturing beautifully the English Regency period's mores, manners, and lifestyles. The central theme deals with the extreme differences in temperaments between two sisters, and the eventual reconciliation and moderation of both their characters and temperaments.
Marianne Dashwood is a passionate young woman, with a definite inclination toward the humanities: art, music and literature. Her heart rules her head, more often than not, and she has a very spontaneous nature. Elinor Dashwood, the older of the two sisters, is much more practical and sensible. While Elinor appreciates the music and literature that her sibling so passionately loves, she definitely thinks things through before making decisions, or taking action, and keeps her personal feelings to herself. She feels tremendous responsibility for her family's well-being. Elinor does have a wonderful, dry sense of humor, and her witty comments enhance the novel. Throughout most of the narrative, Marianne believes that Elinor, whom she dearly loves, is too cold, and restrained - more concerned with propriety than with feelings. She is obviously judgmental concerning Elinor's reticence to freely express her emotions, and she also pities Elinor, for her perceived inadequacies. Elinor, on the other hand, is concerned about Marianne's open and guileless behavior. She fears her sister will be hurt by indulging in her strong emotions, and that conventional society will condemn her for this attribute.
The story opens with the death of Elinor and Marianne's father. He, unavoidably, has left them, along with their mother, (his second wife), and younger sister with little money. They are forced to leave their home, the Norland estate, and move to Barton Cottage, close to a distant relative's estate. Norland and all its treasures have been left to Dashwood's son, by his first wife. The four women have been left on their own, to pursue life, love, and loss in their different manners.
Both Elinor and Marianne fall deeply in love, while at Barton, and each, in turn, are disappointed by their choices. These devastating losses, plus their adjustments to an entirely different lifestyle, serve to modify their temperaments and change their lives.
Sense And Sensibility is a deeply moving novel, with biting satire, especially demonstrated in the characters of Fanny and John Dashwood, and Lucy Steele; and of course Elinor's fine wit adds much to make the reader smile. Ms. Austin's writing is pure elegance. Her female characters are well developed, including those in minor roles. The men, particularly John Willoughby, Edward Ferrars, and Colonel Brandon are very different in nature, and not at all stereotypical. I loved the scenes at Barton Cottage with Marianne and Willoughby, and with Willoughby and the Dashwood family. I also really enjoyed the visit to London and the tragic ball scene.
I found myself laughing and crying while reading this book. So with all the discussion about moderation and passion, Jane Austin, once again, brought out the gamut of emotions in me. I cannot recommend this delightful novel highly enough!
|
Lori Morgan (MSL quote), USA
<2007-03-13 00:00>
I had the pleasure of reading two of Jane Austen's books, Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, and loved both of them. Austen writes in such a romatic way that you wish you could be there in person to experience every word. Anyone who found the book to be boring, needs to re-read it again. It speaks of honesty, integrity and love that is lacking in todays books. Elinor in, Sense and Sensability, was a strong and smart woman while on the other hand, the younger sister, Marianne, was weaker but became a stronger individual because of the strong bond between herself and Elinor. Every young girl should read Austen's work because it protrays love as good and bad and shows that no matter how much someone can love you, there maybe a hidden agenda behind that affection.
|
Debbie Lee Wesselmann (MSL quote), USA
<2007-03-13 00:00>
Although Sense And Sensibility is not Jane Austen's best novel, it is nonetheless a major novel, with the author's then-young talent in full display. Its publication in 1811 marked Austen as a huge literary talent, and its significance reverberates even today as contemporary readers re-discover the works of this author so adept at uncovering the foibles of nineteenth century aristocracy.
The title refers to the two eldest Dashwood sisters, Elinor and Marianne, one of whom (Elinor) embraces practicality and restraint while the other (Marianne) gives her whole heart to every endeavor. When the Dashwoods - mother Mrs. Dashwood, Elinor, Marianne, and youngest sister Margaret - are sent, almost impoverished, to a small cottage in Devonshire after the death of their father and the machinations of their brother's wife, they accept their new circumstances with as much cheer as they can muster even though their brother and his wife have taken over the family estate and fortune. Their characters, albeit wildly different in their approaches to life, are impeccably honest and intelligent - and their suitors take notice. Elinor falls in love with the shy, awkward Edward, while Marianne's affections are lavished on the dashing hunter Willoughby. As in all Austen's books, love and marriage don't come easily, as affections aren't always returned and social jockeying sometimes takes precedence to true love. In an interestingly twist, the end of this novel brings into question which sister represents which part of the title.
Sense And Sensibility only hints at the social skewering Austen would use to such great effect in her later novels, and the humor here is only occasional and slight, as this novel adopts a generally serious tone. Parody is largely limited to the gossipy Mrs. Jenkins, who jumps to wild conclusions about situations she knows nothing about. Though arranged marriage and true love figure prominently in all of Austen's novels, this novel focuses almost exclusivity on the prospects of the two main characters, making it less complex than the novels that followed. Reserved Elinor and exuberant Marianne are expertly drawn, with Edward, Willoughby, and Colonel Brandon (whose lovesick hopes for Marianne are dashed again and again) also engaging creations. Except for the first page or two where the circumstances of the Dashwoods are set up through a series of deaths and relations, possibly causing some confusion, this novel is exceedingly easy to follow for contemporary readers.
This novel is an excellent introduction to Jane Austen's works because of its relative simplicity (though readers should not dismiss it as simple) and the use of typical themes and social situations. Book clubs and students might want to explore the influence of money on nineteenth century British society as well as the meaning of the title as it applies to both the sisters and the other characters. It is also interesting to note both the helplessness and the extraordinary power of women in different circumstances.
Even though this is not Austen's best novel, I could not take away a single star because it is such a delightful book. I highly recommend this novel for all readers.
|
View all 10 comments |
|
|
|
|