(Chapters 9-16)

The first couple of weeks of the semester have kicked my butt, and I’ve gotten a little behind on my reading goals for the month. But! It seems that I was meant to read this little section of the book this week instead of when I had originally planned.

Before I get to what resonated most with me in this week’s reading, a couple of other things that struck me. This week, we meet Willoughby, the dashing young man who comes to Marianne’s rescue after spraining her ankle in the rain. Marianne herself could not have conjured a more romantic meet cute. Willoughby visits daily and he and Marianne quickly become attached. More than attached. They behave rather obnoxiously, with zero regard for the opinions others are levelling at them and even less regard for the propriety of the day.

Elinor and Marianne have several tiffs over this period regarding Marianne’s behavior. And while I understand Elinor’s concern and how inappropriate the actions of Marianne and Willoughby are by 1811 standards; I also can’t help but envy the way the couple remains true to themselves. More often than not, I have felt I couldn’t do or say what I’d really like to because of the positions I held or the people I represented. As I have gotten older, I’ve started to make a more conscious effort to recognize when I feel stifled and why I feel so. While there are still times I’m unable to say or do all I would like, I am under fewer restrictions than I have been, or perceived myself to have been, under in the past. I remain a work in progress, but it has been largely a relief to free myself from expectations of others and from some of my own.

I laughed out loud several times reading the sisterly banter and arguments between Elinor and Marianne this week.  Speaking from experience, sisters know exactly how to get under each other’s skin, never miss an opportunity to tease, and love each other dearly. Jane Austen had a very close relationship with her own sister, and I love seeing the influence of that relationship in Sense and Sensibility. So much has changed over the last 200+ years, but it seems that sisterly affection, in all its forms, has remained constant. Marianne makes a pretty speech about the change of seasons and her enjoyment of the transformation, and Elinor ribs her for her “passion for dead leaves.” I know I have similarly given my sister a hard time for her speeches. The use of the word “befuddled” comes to mind – but I won’t get in to all that now 😉 I am so very thankful for my sister and our relationship. The fights and disagreements, the games and inside jokes, and the love and support. I am who I am because of her. Having a sister is an extraordinary gift, and I can’t wait to see Elinor and Marianne reminded of that as the book proceeds.

During one of their disagreements, Elinor cautions Marianne about her attachment to Willoughby, as he is “so little, or at least so lately known to her.” While I agree with Elinor in the context in which she makes this statement (Willoughby has just gifted Marianne with a horse… a HORSE!), it’s Marianne’s response that I felt especially hard this week.

“Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.”

I was fortunate enough this week, to be reminded of the incredible people I have become acquainted with over the last 30+ years. I reconnected with two old friends, with whom I have had very little communication with over the last several years. I’ve known one for 25 years, the other for 30, and despite our infrequent contact, we’ve remained good friends. How fortunate am I to have friends I’ve known for a lifetime? To have people who understand me completely, who truly know me? Also this week, I received text messages from two friends, one that I’ve known for three years, the other just over a year. These are two people who I don’t share a long history with, but seem to be, as Anne would say, “kindred spirits.” One reached out this week just to check in. The other did the same, and also gave me the pep talk I didn’t know I needed until I saw it. My friends: I’m grateful to each and every one of you. For who you are, for seeing me, and for always picking up right where we left off, no matter the length of our acquaintance.

I have been lucky, but Marianne may not be as so. In this 60-page span, Marianne is swept off her feet and then, just as quickly, deserted. She went all in, and from the readers’ perspective – and that of the other characters – it appeared Willoughby did too, making his hurried departure all the more jarring. We do not know the details yet, Marianne has been too devastated to share anything, even with her sister. Perhaps Willoughby will be back. But sharp-eyed readers might recognize Willoughby’s behavior from previous experience with similar men. Those individuals we refer to as cads, knaves, and scoundrels. Or in more uncouth terms: f***boys.

A ray of hope at the end of these pages. Edward Ferrars has arrived at Barton Cottage.

Additional notes from this week’s reading:

• Mrs. Jennings continues to be a meddling, overreaching, inappropriate, busybody.
• Because of their public behavior, most of the inhabitants of both Barton Cottage and the main house believe Marianne and Willoughby to be engaged. This assumption is yet to be confirmed.
• Colonel Brandon leaves abruptly just minutes before the group (Sir John, Lady Middleton, Mrs. Jennings, the three Miss. Dashwood’s, Willoughby, and two Miss. Carey’s from Newton) are to depart with him on a daytrip to tend to “business in town.” The trip is canceled as he was the intended host.
• Margaret provides comic relief as the loveable and naïve littlest sister.