Emma by Jane Austen

*contains spoilers*

One of the first things that occurred to me on picking up Jane Austen’s revered masterpiece, Emma, was that I’d not yet read it! Honestly, Billy… But I made up for this piece of sacrilegious neglect on my part by diving eagerly into this text. Emma is considered one of Austen’s best completed works, ranging up there with her two most famous pieces, Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, though I think it is possibly the best of hers I’ve read so far! In her own estimation, Austen declared Emma to be a character “whom no one but myself will much like”, which is to some extent quite true. On reaching the halfway point in the novel, which itself comes about halfway through Volume II of III, I discussed Emma’s character thus far with a friend: “She’s really fucking annoying”, he said, and I didn’t completely disagree.

And here’s why: Emma Woodhouse is spoilt. She’s constantly fussed over by her father (who himself regularly complains and requires attention and fussing over too), and she’s privileged, wealthy, and is overly concerned with social status and class. But most of all, Emma is conceited and lacks any semblance of self-awareness, but this is mitigated somewhat when Austen proclaims as much herself, and so we all revel in our knowing; “The real evils indeed of Emma’s situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with her.” This revelation comes, in fact, on the first page of the novel, so we should all be aware of what is to come – though for Emma it remains “unperceived”.

Regardless, it still shocks and hurts to see the loquacious but ultimately innocent Miss Bates cruelly mocked by a thoughtless Emma for her talkative ways. It is, however, gratifying to see Mr Knightley, Emma’s eventual beau, reprimand her ignorance and arrogance as a result; “She [Miss Bates] is poor; she has sunk from the comforts she was born to…Her situation should secure your compassion…You, whom she had known from an infant…laugh at her, humble her – and before her niece too – and before others…” Knightley’s consideration for the disparity between the situations of the younger mocker and the elder mocked speaks beautifully of his own character’s self and social awareness, and the want of Emma’s own. But then it’s also the earlier frustration caused by Emma’s faults that makes her growth and maturity such a satisfying prospect for the reader; “She was most forcibly struck. The truth of his [Knightley’s] representation there was no denying. She felt it at her heart. How could she have been so brutal, so cruel to Miss Bates!” Austen speaks of her beloved character’s interior sense of mortification at her own behaviour, and it rings truer because of and not in spite of the author’s affection for her character.

Published in 1815; entertaining and teaching us for always!