382 pages, The Folio Society
The heroine of Emma is Emma Woodhouse, the precocious 20-year-old resident of the village of Highbury who imagines herself to be a matchmaker par excellence, having conspired to bring together Miss Taylor, her one-time governess, and Mr. Weston, a widower from the village. Emma decides that her next task is to find a husband for Harriet Smith, her new friend whose parentage is unknown, a subtle aside form Austen that she is illegitimate. This is the first instance of Austen’s courage in writing this book, as one of the main characters, Harriet Smith, is illegitimate, a fact of the life through the ages and the world over, which was rarely mentioned. But by putting this fact front and center, Austen forces her reader to acknowledge this uncomfortable fact, and what they think of it. But Emma is convinced that Harriet is a gentleman’s daughter and, thus, deserves to be a gentleman’s wife, and so the Highbury busybody sets out to make that happen. Emma decides that the vicar of Highbury, Mr. Elton, is just the man, but she must first persuade Harriet to reject the proposal of Robert Martin, a well-to-do farmer for whom Harriet clearly has feelings but who does not measure up in Emma’s eyes.
With Emma’s encouragement, Harriet becomes infatuated with Mr. Elton – but Mr. Elton, in turn, has fallen for Emma, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her desire to make a match for Harriet has blinded her to the facts of the situation. Elton, spurned by Emma and offended by the very idea that the illegitimate Harriet could possibly be his equal, leaves Highbury for Bath and marries a wealthy woman there on the rebound. Meanwhile, Emma’s brother-in-law and treasured friend, Mr. Knightly, watches all of her goings on with a critical eye, especially as he thinks Robert Martin would have been a perfect match for her friend Harriet. They quarrel over Emma’s meddling and, as usual, Mr. Knightley proves to be the wiser of the pair. Here is Austen’s second act of courage, in showing that her heroine is – wait for it – wrong; worse, from a modern-day perspective, Mr. Knightly – a MAN – is right. How many authors have the guts to put their main character in such a situation? But in so doing, Austen makes Emma human and, thus, more relatable to the reader. It is then left to Emma to comfort her friend and to speculate about the character of a new visitor expected in Highbury; namely, Mr. Weston’s son, the much-discussed Frank Churchill.
After Churchill’s aunt and uncle took him as the heir to their estate, they have seen fit to raise him in London, away from his natural father, but he is at long last set to visit his father. The good people of Highbury know nothing of Frank Churchill, who hasn’t visited until now because of his aunt’s many illnesses (not all of which, it is implied, are legitimate). Upon Churchill’s long-awaited arrival, Mr. Knightley is immediately suspicious of the young man, a suspicion that is compounded when he rushes off again for London – for a haircut, of all things. Emma, however, is captivated by the dashing Churchill, and can’t help but notice that his attentions seem to be directed at her. While Emma initially tries to dissuade Churchill, she can’t help but find herself flattered by his charms, and the two of them flirt outrageously with one another. What we seem to see here is Austen setting up another of her against-the-odds romances in which true love conquers all – but stay tuned, Dear Reader, for all is not necessarily what it seems.
Another recent addition to Highbury is the beautiful and accomplished Jane Fairfax, whom Emma is less than enamored with, not least because Jane is reserved where Emma is outgoing – but, as Austen implies, Emma as most jealous of Jane as a rival, for soon all talk and gossip is about Miss Fairfax and not Miss Woodhouse (has Austen just made her heroine not only wrong, but catty, to boot?). To Emma’s consternation, Knightley defends Jane, saying that she deserves their compassion for, unlike Emma, Jane has no independent fortune and must soon leave home to work as a governess and make her way in the world. But Mrs. Weston suspects that the warmth of Knightley’s defense of Jane comes from the romantic feelings he has developed for her, an implication Emma resists, although she can’t quite understand why she does so. From this time, most of Highbury assumes that Churchill and Emma have formed an attachment, though Emma soon dismisses Frank as a potential suitor (for she has no plans to marry anyone) and imagines him as a match for Harriet.
At the village ball Emma and Churchill put on, Harriet finds herself humiliated by Mr. Elton and his haughty new wife, only to be rescued by Knightly when he asks her to dance, a move that earns him high marks in Emma’s eyes. Next day, Churchill saves Harriet from a gang of gypsy beggars, so that when Harriet tells Emma that she has fallen in love with a man above her station, Emma naturally believes that she is referring to Churchill. Knightley suspects that there is an attachment is between Churchill and Jane, but his warnings to Emma fall on deaf ears; worse, at a picnic attended by the great and good of Highbury, Emma insults Miss Bates, a kindhearted spinster and Jane’s aunt, losing her Knightley’s approval, to her shame. And here is Austen’s third authorial act of courage, for how many heroines can you name that are bitchy? While Emma ultimately does the right thing and apologizes to Miss Bates, this whole scenario shows once again that Emma is not perfect, sometimes thinks very highly of herself and even sometimes does and says the wrong thing, just like the rest of us. It is the rare author indeed who has the will, to say nothing of the ability, to make so human a character.
News comes that Churchill’s aunt has at long last died, and this event paves the way for an unexpected revelation that solves the mysteries of the man: Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax have, in fact, been secretly engaged the whole time, and his attentions towards Emma have been nothing but a smoke screen to hide his true state. Emma worries that Harriet will be crushed, but she soon discovers that it is Knightley, not Churchill, who is the object of her friend’s affections; and she believes that Knightley shares her affections. Emma finds that she is distressed by Harriet’s revelation – for it is now that Emma sees that she, too, is in love with Knightley – who, happily, declares his love for Emma. But the disappointed Harriet is soon comforted by a second marriage proposal from Robert Martin and, this time, she accepts with alacrity. The novel ends with the marriage of Harriet and Mr. Martin, and that of Emma and Mr. Knightley, resolving the question of who loves whom after all.
It has long been agreed that Emma Woodhouse is Jane Austen’s most popular heroine, but as to why this should be so is, to some, a mystery: she is beautiful, rich, coddled, interfering, opinionated and convinced that she is always right. What is there to love? Especially when you compare her to Austen’s other characters, her struggles pale in comparison: The Dashwood sisters of Sense and Sensibility must, for the first time, work to earn their keep and their places in life; Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice is, along with her four sisters, looking at a life of penury or, at best, loveless marriages; Fanny Price of Mansfield Park is shipped off to her rich relations as a charity case where she is treated more like a servant than a family member; Catherine Morland of Northanger Abbey is one of a brood of ten who retreats into an over-active imagination to better handle the rigors of life; and Anne Elliot of Persuasion is a middle-aged woman looking at a long spinsterhood after having rejected the love of her life for material reasons. Compared to these women, Emma is a privileged brat with nothing to complain about.
So, just what is it about Emma, anyway? Why the popularity? I think it’s because Emma is a real person: she is imperfect, shallow, completely oblivious to her own faults, often mean-spirited and quite unfeeling but, damnit, we like her and want her to be successful and happy. We care for Emma and her antics, while simultaneously deriding them as ridiculous, like we would a close friend or fond acquaintance. Emma’s upper-class world is both limited and without breadth, but it is her world and she moves through it with sentiment and grace. Her foibles and missteps are really rather minor and certainly forgivable, and Austen presents this immaculate portrait of a flawed heroine who is at once as good a person as she can be and as unimportant as her tiny stage indicates. It is a delightful picture of a time long past and people who have no interests beyond their own little lives, and need not have them. So maybe that’s why Emma is loved by so many: we recognize ourselves and others that we love in her, which makes her real and relatable too, in spite of the fact that her world is long gone.
