Emma by Jane Austen
Oct. 17th, 2009 01:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meganbmooreI’ve been meaning to read Jane Austen for years, having seen and liked at least one adaptation of each of her completed novels, but somehow never got around to it until now. Of the adaptations I’ve seen, the version of Emma starring Kate Beckinsale and Olivia Williams is probably the one I’ve rewatched the most. I also saw the first episode of the currently-airing version starring Romola Garai before I’d quite finished the book, and have since seen the second episode. As such, my approach may be somewhat skewed.
Emma Woodhouse is young, pretty, rich, and clever. She has no intentions of ever marrying because her social and financial position remove the necessity of such a step, and instead plans to remain single and take care of her father until his death. She’s also very prejudiced and classist, self-deluded, often blind to the realities of her world, and rather on the indulged side. Due to her social status, most of the people around her seem to be as blind to her faults as she is, and those closer to her are fond enough of her to ignore her faults. The exception is Mr. Knightley, her friend and neighbor who is some years her senior, and whose brother is married to Emma’s sister.
Having recently matched her governess with a rich local man, Emma has come to consider herself a matchmaker, and has set her sights on Harriet Smith, an illegitimate girl who likely has well-off parents. Unfortunately for both girls, Emma isn’t a good matchmaker at all, and her attempts cause many problems for both.
I adore Emma far more than any reasonable person should, though in this case, “adore” isn’t really synonymous with “like.” The girl, frankly, needs a solid shake (at the least) but I think that’s part of what makes her interesting.
The book, I think, is about both Emma’s search for an equal (Jane Fairfax, the bane of her existence) and a companion (Knightley), which is the role she pulls Harriet into. Though Emma is very whole and confident as a person and satisfied with her life, I think she’s very, very bored, but has no idea that she’s bored. She seems to think of herself as being on the practical, grounded side, but is actually very fanciful and possesses a wild imagination. (Also, if she were real and lived today, she would be a rabid shipper. You know it’s true.) This boredom seems to be the main basis for her fascination with Frank Churchill, who represents A Mystery with his frequent absences and worldliness. And everyone does say they look good together.
Austen sets up a lot of mysteries (Not of the “the butler did it” variety, but of the “what’s up with this person here, anyway” variety) here, most centered around character motivations and relationships. The most interesting part, for me, is the creation of Emma and Jane as complete opposites, and the reversal of typical roles for both the heroines and their romances. Despite having very little page time, Jane is almost as developed a character as Emma, and is a frequent topic of conversation, as well as something of an obsession of Emma’s. Both are young, pretty, intelligent and clever, and seem to have had similar educations. Emma, however, is rich and indulged, regularly surrounded by people who adore her, and has rarely been denied anything. She’s also never left the town she grew up in. Jane is poor, an orphan, and was sent by her aunt and grandmother to live a “better life” as the childhood companion of a young woman who seems to be along the lines of Emma’s social status. Educated beyond her expectations, she has no apparent future other than that of a governess open to her now that the young lady has married and no longer requires Jane as a companion. But unlike Emma, Jane has seen a bit of the world, and it’s Emma who, thanks to Jane’s aunt, is constantly bombarded with tales of how accomplished and amazing and smart Jane is. It’s no wonder Emma comes to see Jane as a rival, especially given that Emma is passionate and tends to respond to the perceived passion of others, and Jane has seemingly struggled to turn reservation into an artform, giving Emma little to grasp on to. (Mind you, I’m sure Miss Bates’s letters to Jane also had irritating tales of the dazzling Miss Woodhouse, but those can be a little easier to ignore.)
In another book, the roles would be reversed and Jane would be the virtuous heroine rescued from her dire fate as a governess by the romantic-if somewhat immature-Frank Churchill, with Emma as the antagonist who would, possibly, be revealed to not be as bad as she seemed in the end. That might be a good book (And has been plenty of times. Bad books, too.), but it would be a far less interesting one. The reversal carries over into their romances, too. Jane and Frank have the secret, forbid love affair with the traditional hurdles, their relationship seemingly conducted through a series of secret meetings and stolen moments. In contrast, Emma and Knightley’s romance is much more sedate, and more mature, with their marriage seeming to formalize their existing relationship more than anything else. While Jane and Frank have the conflict of their social classes and a romance developed from what seems to be a relatively brief acquaintance, Emma and Knightley have been friends for the entirety of her life, and are as close to equals as two people of their respective ages and genders will allow for their class and society. I’ve seen some arguments that Emma has to conform to Knightley’s worldview, but that isn’t the feeling I get from things at all. To me, it reads more like Knightley sees the world the way most people do, and Emma needs to achieve at least some of that awareness so that she’ll stop unintentionally hurting people and messing up their lives. In the end, I don’t think Knightley really wants to change her, or that she’s even been changed in many ways, just that she’s gained a degree of self-awareness, and learned to be more considerate and to think before she speaks and acts. The age difference between Emma and Knightley is a bit offputting to the modern reader, but I’m largely ok with it as his interest doesn’t seem to have begun until she was an adult, and because it isn’t an unusual situation for the time. In truth, I would have rather they remained platonic friends for the rest of their lives, but I don’t think their marriage actually changes much about their relationship, and I think Emma herself even sees it as a way to secure her position as his primary friend and companion.
In regards to the writing itself, I unsurprisingly found Austen to be witty, and wonderfully, drily so, and the characterization and storytelling to be excellent. It did, however, have the typical problems of 19th century novels for me. A bit slow moving for my tastes, and often telling instead of showing. There were also a few moments where the dense writing became a little too dense, and I had to reread passages due to my losing track of the meaning, as Austen seems a bit prone to obfuscation.
P.S.: OMG Jane Austen almost caused a minor panic attack due to threatening my tagging system! (ETA: 19 1/2 hours awake : "OMG WHAT GENRE IS THIS DOES CLASSICS REALLY COUNT AS A GENRE OF FICTION??")
Emma Woodhouse is young, pretty, rich, and clever. She has no intentions of ever marrying because her social and financial position remove the necessity of such a step, and instead plans to remain single and take care of her father until his death. She’s also very prejudiced and classist, self-deluded, often blind to the realities of her world, and rather on the indulged side. Due to her social status, most of the people around her seem to be as blind to her faults as she is, and those closer to her are fond enough of her to ignore her faults. The exception is Mr. Knightley, her friend and neighbor who is some years her senior, and whose brother is married to Emma’s sister.
Having recently matched her governess with a rich local man, Emma has come to consider herself a matchmaker, and has set her sights on Harriet Smith, an illegitimate girl who likely has well-off parents. Unfortunately for both girls, Emma isn’t a good matchmaker at all, and her attempts cause many problems for both.
I adore Emma far more than any reasonable person should, though in this case, “adore” isn’t really synonymous with “like.” The girl, frankly, needs a solid shake (at the least) but I think that’s part of what makes her interesting.
The book, I think, is about both Emma’s search for an equal (Jane Fairfax, the bane of her existence) and a companion (Knightley), which is the role she pulls Harriet into. Though Emma is very whole and confident as a person and satisfied with her life, I think she’s very, very bored, but has no idea that she’s bored. She seems to think of herself as being on the practical, grounded side, but is actually very fanciful and possesses a wild imagination. (Also, if she were real and lived today, she would be a rabid shipper. You know it’s true.) This boredom seems to be the main basis for her fascination with Frank Churchill, who represents A Mystery with his frequent absences and worldliness. And everyone does say they look good together.
Austen sets up a lot of mysteries (Not of the “the butler did it” variety, but of the “what’s up with this person here, anyway” variety) here, most centered around character motivations and relationships. The most interesting part, for me, is the creation of Emma and Jane as complete opposites, and the reversal of typical roles for both the heroines and their romances. Despite having very little page time, Jane is almost as developed a character as Emma, and is a frequent topic of conversation, as well as something of an obsession of Emma’s. Both are young, pretty, intelligent and clever, and seem to have had similar educations. Emma, however, is rich and indulged, regularly surrounded by people who adore her, and has rarely been denied anything. She’s also never left the town she grew up in. Jane is poor, an orphan, and was sent by her aunt and grandmother to live a “better life” as the childhood companion of a young woman who seems to be along the lines of Emma’s social status. Educated beyond her expectations, she has no apparent future other than that of a governess open to her now that the young lady has married and no longer requires Jane as a companion. But unlike Emma, Jane has seen a bit of the world, and it’s Emma who, thanks to Jane’s aunt, is constantly bombarded with tales of how accomplished and amazing and smart Jane is. It’s no wonder Emma comes to see Jane as a rival, especially given that Emma is passionate and tends to respond to the perceived passion of others, and Jane has seemingly struggled to turn reservation into an artform, giving Emma little to grasp on to. (Mind you, I’m sure Miss Bates’s letters to Jane also had irritating tales of the dazzling Miss Woodhouse, but those can be a little easier to ignore.)
In another book, the roles would be reversed and Jane would be the virtuous heroine rescued from her dire fate as a governess by the romantic-if somewhat immature-Frank Churchill, with Emma as the antagonist who would, possibly, be revealed to not be as bad as she seemed in the end. That might be a good book (And has been plenty of times. Bad books, too.), but it would be a far less interesting one. The reversal carries over into their romances, too. Jane and Frank have the secret, forbid love affair with the traditional hurdles, their relationship seemingly conducted through a series of secret meetings and stolen moments. In contrast, Emma and Knightley’s romance is much more sedate, and more mature, with their marriage seeming to formalize their existing relationship more than anything else. While Jane and Frank have the conflict of their social classes and a romance developed from what seems to be a relatively brief acquaintance, Emma and Knightley have been friends for the entirety of her life, and are as close to equals as two people of their respective ages and genders will allow for their class and society. I’ve seen some arguments that Emma has to conform to Knightley’s worldview, but that isn’t the feeling I get from things at all. To me, it reads more like Knightley sees the world the way most people do, and Emma needs to achieve at least some of that awareness so that she’ll stop unintentionally hurting people and messing up their lives. In the end, I don’t think Knightley really wants to change her, or that she’s even been changed in many ways, just that she’s gained a degree of self-awareness, and learned to be more considerate and to think before she speaks and acts. The age difference between Emma and Knightley is a bit offputting to the modern reader, but I’m largely ok with it as his interest doesn’t seem to have begun until she was an adult, and because it isn’t an unusual situation for the time. In truth, I would have rather they remained platonic friends for the rest of their lives, but I don’t think their marriage actually changes much about their relationship, and I think Emma herself even sees it as a way to secure her position as his primary friend and companion.
In regards to the writing itself, I unsurprisingly found Austen to be witty, and wonderfully, drily so, and the characterization and storytelling to be excellent. It did, however, have the typical problems of 19th century novels for me. A bit slow moving for my tastes, and often telling instead of showing. There were also a few moments where the dense writing became a little too dense, and I had to reread passages due to my losing track of the meaning, as Austen seems a bit prone to obfuscation.
P.S.: OMG Jane Austen almost caused a minor panic attack due to threatening my tagging system! (ETA: 19 1/2 hours awake : "OMG WHAT GENRE IS THIS DOES CLASSICS REALLY COUNT AS A GENRE OF FICTION??")