Brittany's Book Corner

“Sense and Sensibility” by Jane Austen is better in the movies

I have a confession: I feel that Jane Austen’s work is best when it is adapted for the screen.

This opinion is blasphemous, I know, and not always true. Just look at the 2022 adaptation of “Persuasion” starring Dakota Johnson – it is a nightmare mixture of modernity and romanticism with no remnant of Austen’s usual charm or whimsy. Nevertheless, there are aspects of Austen’s cinematic canon that are fondly looked upon.

Most members of Gen Z think of Jane Austen and think of Keira Knightly and Matthew Macfadyen as Elizabeth Bennet and the beloved Mr. Darcy, paired expertly with a sultry and instantly recognizable hand flex. I, personally, have a hard time thinking of a better romantic film that has been released in the last thirty years.

Nevertheless, it is difficult to find people in the modern age who have actually read Austen’s work (or read at all, in many cases, but that is a different story for a different time). So, I have taken it upon myself to read Austen’s first novel, “Sense and Sensibility.”

Widely considered, like all of Austen’s books, to be a romantic masterpiece, “Sense and Sensibility” follows the love lives of two sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood. All of the trials and tribulations that comes with being young, single women in a world where their only real purpose is to be married are stated in this book.

It is quite refreshing for a work written during the age of romanticism to focus so heavily on the perspectives of young women; even Mary Shelley, who occasionally represented budding feminist notions in her works, rarely told her stories from a female perspective, if she ever did so.

Nevertheless, a new reader who is unfamiliar with the work (or who has yet to see the beloved 1995 film adaptation) would very likely find themselves confused by the sheer number of characters and subplots.

In the first chapter alone, the reader is introduced to the patriarch, Henry Dashwood, his son and daughter-in-law John and Fanny, three Dashwood daughters (the youngest of which mostly functions as window dressing, much like in “Pride and Prejudice”) and his wife.

All of these characters lead me to my next point: Austen relies far too heavily on exposition to convey her points. Ideally, a novel should start with a scene instead of a chapter that explains the characters and their relationships to one another, but “Sense and Sensibility” breaks this cardinal rule.

This criticism is not common in other works during this time period, either, causing the novel to stand out amongst its contemporaries as particularly slow-paced and, at times, boring. Often, the overuse of exposition is dulled by the charming narrative commentary and, frankly, judgment that Austen bestows upon the characters and their actions, but it is something that can distract and diminish the value of such a classic.

“Sense and Sensibility” is not a perfect novel, and it does not come close to being Austen’s best, but for those who are not easily swayed by occasionally boring scenes and a gross number of subplots, there might be something enjoyable here.

Austen may not have perfected her style by the time her first novel was published, but her inherent charm shows through despite that. I would say it is worth reading, if only for its prominence in modern-day literary culture.