When I was a senior in high school, my classmates and I were forced to read Emma by Jane Austen. I hated it. Not that there was anything wrong with Emma, of course, but Jane Austen does not and never will play well with adolescent boys.
So, while taking a break from Trollope’s Palliser novels, I decided to give Aunt Jane another chance, hoping that my literary taste might have matured somewhat in the last couple of decades. After all, Trollope had made me accustomed to domestic comedy. Much of the action of The Small House at Allington would not have been out of place in Austen’s world.
Emma Woodhouse is the much doted upon daughter of a wealthy and idle hypochondriac. She enjoys her position as the preeminent single woman in her small social circle. She tells herself, though, that she is destined only to make matches for others and not to marry herself, being content to care for her aging father. Her comical ineptitude in her quest to make and predict the marriages of others is the basis for the book’s drama and humor.
The first victim of Emma’s well-meaning folly is Harriet Smith, a silly young woman of uncertain parentage. Emma hopes to raise Harriet’s social standing by befriending her. She teaches her to reject the love of an honest tradesman and to hope for that of one Mr. Elton, a clergyman. Mr. Elton develops an attachment, not to Harriet, but to Emma. Emma is taken entirely by surprise, although most readers will have seen this coming, and soundly rejects Mr. Elton’s proposal. Harriet is distraught.
The life of Highbury is enlivened by the arrival of two persons: Mr. Frank Churchill, the son of Mr. Western (the new husband of Emma’s former governess) and Miss Jane Fairfax, a poor but genteel orphan related to Emma’s neighbors Mrs. and Miss Bates. Emma is slightly envious of the accomplished Miss Fairfax and is somewhat cold to her, also suspecting her of being the recipient of an improper affection from one Mr. Dixon. Regarding Frank, an engaging and handsome young man, Emma engages in a degree of flirtation and even suspects that he may be in love with her, but does not herself harbor any very substantial feelings toward him. This is fortunate, as Frank turns out to be engaged to Miss Fairfax, a condition which shocks the whole of Highbury. Emma, and even Franks doting father and step-mother, are shocked that he should have come among them with the appearance of being single while secretly engaged. So, once again, Emma is mistaken about romantic alliances.
Emma’s final folly is on her own account. Mr. Knightley is a gentleman of impeccable character some years older than Emma, who has known her for her whole life. Late in the novel, Harriet, apparently finally having gotten over Mr. Elton, conceives a fascination with Mr. Knightley and believes her affection to be returned. Upon news of this, Emma is suddenly seized by the realization that Mr. Knightley must marry only herself. Happily, Harriet is mistaken and Mr. Knightley in fact loves Emma. And so the novel ends with three marriages: Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax, Emma and Mr. Knightley, and poor Harriet and the tradesman who had proposed to her early in the novel.
The great problem with Austen is that the stakes are so small. While the news of Frank Churchill’s secret engagement is enough to send the inhabitants of Highbury into paroxysms of horror, it can hardly have that effect on the modern reader. Appreciating Austen is the opposite of appreciating opera. Where opera demands that we accept a ridiculous grandiosity of action and emotion, Austen demands that we adapt our imaginations to a small stage and learn to see the concerns of her limited world as her characters see them.
Even if we fail in this endeavor, there is still much to love in this novel. Emma Woodhouse is without doubt one of the great characters of literature, ranking with Hamlet and Stephen Daedalus. Her combined cleverness and cluelessness are endlessly charming, as is her obsession with the loves of others while ignoring her own heart. She is the ultimate extrovert, attending only to the outside world, but seeing it through the lens of her romantic imagination. She has a restless energy, which, for instance, will allow her to develop elaborate schedules of reading, but not to follow them. Her energy chafes against the smallness of Highbury, too great for the petty concerns with which it has to contend.
When I read Emma in high school, I regarded it at best as an interesting period piece, a historical record whose representative nature made it a fitting subject of study, but which lacked the universality of great literature. I must entirely recant that view. Austen’s talent with character is superb, and even her plot demands respect within its own boundaries. High drama it is not, but it is a truly delightful depiction of a very human character.