Part 3 of Book Analysis: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
1. Introduction
In Sense and Sensibility, Austen gifts us a cast of richly drawn characters who are as flawed and complex as the people we encounter in real life. At the heart of the novel are the Dashwood sisters, just like the title of the book suggests, two young women navigating love, heartbreak, and personal growth in a world that often leaves women with limited choices. While Elinor represents sense—rationality, restraint, and quiet endurance—Marianne embodies sensibility—passionate, impulsive, and ruled by emotion. Their journeys, though different, ultimately bring them both to the same realization: neither extreme leads to happiness.
But Elinor and Marianne are not alone in their struggles. They are surrounded by men who test their patience, challenge their ideals, and, in some cases, completely shatter their illusions. Through these relationships—romantic and familial—Austen explores different kinds of love, from the steadfast to the foolishly fleeting, to show that either one of the extreme attributes would not work.
So, let’s meet the players in this intricate dance of love, disappointment, and self-discovery.
2 Protagonist Focus
Elinor Dashwood: The Embodiment of Sense
Elinor Dashwood is the kind of person you want in your corner when life turns chaotic. Unshakably composed and quietly resilient, she is the anchor in a sea of emotional turmoil. Unlike her younger sister, Marianne, who wears her heart on her sleeve, Elinor keeps her emotions under lock and key—not because she feels any less deeply, but because she values self-control over spectacle, reason over reckless abandon.
Her composure is put to the ultimate test when she falls in love with Edward Ferrars, a kind but agonizingly reserved man whose future is already ensnared in a secret engagement. Many in her position would succumb to despair, railing against fate or indulging in dramatic displays of heartache. But not Elinor. Instead, she bears her suffering with quiet dignity, refusing to let personal sorrow dictate her actions. Even as she listens patiently to others lament their own misfortunes—often far less grievous than her own—she never seeks sympathy or indulges in self-pity. When she discovers that Edward may never be free to love her, she does not crumble; she endures.
“She was stronger alone… she would not let Lucy steal from her the comfort of self-respect.”
What makes Elinor truly extraordinary is not just her restraint but her unwavering inner strength. Some may call her too self-sacrificing, too willing to suppress her own desires for the sake of others. But Austen makes it clear that Elinor’s patience is not a weakness—it is a rare kind of strength, one that does not demand attention or validation. Her love for Edward is not the fevered, impulsive passion that her sister romanticizes but something far more enduring: a deep, steady devotion built on mutual respect and quiet understanding.
Edward, for all his good qualities, is not a man who thrives in a world of grand gestures. He is introverted, uncertain of his place, overshadowed by a wealthier and more favored brother. In Elinor, he finds a sanctuary—someone who does not demand or overwhelm but simply understands. Yet, tragically, he does not fully grasp the depth of her devotion until the moment she finally breaks. When she learns that he is free—that the impossible is suddenly possible—Elinor, who has held herself together for so long, utterly loses her composure. And in that moment, Edward realizes just how much she has endured for his sake.
In the end, she is rewarded not for chasing love with reckless abandon but for holding fast to it with quiet perseverance and unwavering dignity, even at the cost of her own happiness. Austen reminds us that love does not always need to be declared in sweeping monologues or passionate embraces. Sometimes, love is found in steadfast loyalty, in the quiet presence of a person who will stand beside you no matter what. Elinor’s story is not just one of romance—it is a testament to patience, resilience, and the strength of a love that endures, even in silence.
Marianne Dashwood: The Embodiment of Sensibility
Marianne, in contrast to her sister, is a whirlwind of feeling. She believes that love should be dramatic, poetic, and overwhelming. In her mind, if one does not feel passion strong enough to shake the earth, then it is not love at all. She ridicules the idea of marrying for practicality, dismissing Colonel Brandon as too old, too dull, too steady—qualities that, ironically, she will later come to appreciate.
Her heart belongs to John Willoughby, a man as charming as he is unreliable. With him, she allows herself to be completely swept away, reveling in the idea that their love is unlike any other. She makes no effort to hide her emotions—why should she? In her world, love should be declared boldly, worn proudly, and suffered openly when lost.
But when Willoughby chooses wealth over love, Marianne’s entire belief system crumbles. The heartbreak nearly destroys, and she falls into such despair that it threatens her very life. It is only through suffering that she begins to see the flaws in her idealized version of love.
“Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate: she was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions.”
Her transformation is perhaps the most striking in the novel. She does not become Elinor, nor does she lose her capacity for deep feeling. But she does gain wisdom. She learns that love is not just passion—it is kindness, consistency, and mutual respect. She sees Colonel Brandon, once dismissed as dull, for what he truly is: a man who loves her not with fiery declarations but with unwavering devotion. And in the end, she chooses a love that is not reckless but reliable, proving that passion, when balanced with sense, can lead to lasting happiness.
3. Supporting Characters: The Men Who Shape Their Journeys
While Elinor and Marianne are the heart of Sense and Sensibility, the men in their lives play pivotal roles in shaping their journeys. Each represents a different facet of love and duty, and through them, Austen explores the rewards and consequences of character, choices, and, sometimes, sheer indecision.
Edward Ferrars: A Good Man with a Fatal Flaw
Edward Ferrars is, in many ways, Elinor’s male counterpart—kind, honorable, and frustratingly reserved. He possesses a quiet integrity that makes him likable, but his greatest flaw is his inability to take decisive action. Trapped by a past engagement to the sly and calculating Lucy Steele, he remains bound to a promise he no longer wishes to keep. Instead of breaking free, he lets duty dictate his fate, causing unnecessary suffering for both himself and Elinor. His loyalty is admirable, but one can’t help but wonder: wouldn’t a little courage have saved everyone a great deal of heartache?
Colonel Brandon: The Steadfast Suitor
If Marianne embodies youthful passion, Colonel Brandon represents mature, enduring love. He is patient, reliable, and devoted—watching over Marianne even when she refuses to acknowledge his worth. Unlike Willoughby, he does not win hearts with dazzling charm or poetic flourishes but rather through quiet acts of kindness. His love is not the kind that burns hot and fast, only to fizzle out—it is the kind that weathers storms and remains steadfast. In the end, this is precisely the love Marianne needs, even if it takes her time to recognize it.
John Willoughby: The Dangerous Charmer
Willoughby is, at first glance, everything Marianne dreams of—handsome, passionate, and seemingly devoted. Yet beneath the surface lies a man of weak morals and selfish choices. He does love Marianne, but not enough to risk financial security. When faced with the choice between true love and a wealthy marriage, he picks wealth. His decision costs him Marianne, and while he experiences moments of regret, he never truly suffers for his mistakes.
Though he might have been heartbroken when he lost Marianne, he did not let it change him. Instead, he simply continued living as he always had—“he lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself.[1]” In other words, he moved on. Perhaps his marriage to Sophia Grey was not the happiest, but it was not unbearable either. The real tragedy of Willoughby is not that he lost Marianne but that he learned nothing from the experience.
Austen is making a sharp, though subtle, observation here. Unlike Marianne, who reflects, matures and grows from her heartbreak, Willoughby remains unchanged. He does not face the grand downfall we might expect, but there is a quiet kind of tragedy in that—because to regret without learning is to waste an opportunity for redemption.
4. Character Relationships: Love, Loss, and Growth
Austen is a master of relationships—not just romantic ones, but those between family members and friends. In Sense and Sensibility, every relationship serves a purpose, shaping the characters’ growth.
- Elinor and Marianne: Their sisterly bond is the emotional core of the novel. Though opposites in temperament, they share an unbreakable bond, learning from each other as they face their respective heartbreaks.
- Marianne and Colonel Brandon: What begins as indifference turns into a love built on trust, proving that love does not always arrive in the way one expects.
Elinor and Edward: Their love story is one of quiet perseverance, a contrast to Marianne’s dramatic highs and lows. It is a reminder that love can be strong even in silence.
5. Which Sister Are You?
From reading Austen’s letters, I get the sense that she was more like Marianne—spirited, passionate, and prone to seeing the world through the lens of feeling rather than restraint. Her sister Cassandra, on the other hand, seems to have been the Elinor of the family—steady, composed, and ever-practical. As for me? I find myself somewhere around 70/30 -leaning closer to Elinor’s personality.
What about you? Are you more of an Elinor—reserved, responsible, and inclined to put others before yourself? Or do you see yourself in Marianne, embracing life with unfiltered intensity, feeling deeply, and loving wholeheartedly?
Austen does not suggest that one way of living is superior to the other. Instead, she reminds us that both sense and sensibility have their place in life and love. The real challenge is knowing when to lead with reason and when to surrender to emotion.
So, which sister speaks to you? And more importantly, what has Sense and Sensibility taught you—about love, about resilience, and about the delicate dance between passion and wisdom?
[1] Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility (Wordsworth Editions Limited, 1992). P.255-256. His story is a reminder that not everyone gets the dramatic downfall they seem to deserve, and not every regret leads to redemption.