Welcome to our chapter-by-analysis of Emma, which is usually for premium subscribers. This week, however, it is available to all subscribers to give you a sense of what we are doing here.
Volume two, Chapter 10
Last week we left Emma making her way into the Bates household in order to admire Jane Fairfax's new instrument, that anonymous gift that has aroused such interest and speculation. She finds Frank Churchill at work repairing Mrs. Bates's spectacles—a task which has taken him a strangely long time—and she sits next to him, as they gossip further about the keyboard as Jane sits at it.
Meanwhile, Miss Bates looks out of the window and sees Mr. Knightley on horseback, and she takes the opportunity to shout her thanks for his gift of apples, but he declines coming in for a visit. There is much going on in this chapter that I can't really discuss here without spoilers. All I can say is that you should return to it and reread after finishing the novel. See what you notice that you may have missed the first time. Actually, that goes for much of the second volume. Austen is planting seeds.
Volume two, Chapter 11
This chapter begins with one of those grand Austenian generalizations (like the first sentence of Pride and Prejudice, for example, though this one is not so concise):
It may be possible to do without dancing entirely. Instances have been known of young people passing away many, many months successively, without being at any ball of any description, and no material injury accrue either to body or mind;—but when a beginning is made—when the felicities of rapid motion have once been, though slightly, felt—it must be a very heavy set that does not ask for more. (170)
An interesting aspect of this sentence is that one might read it (as is the case with the opening of P&P) as metatextual commentary. If we think back to Austen's earlier novels, balls are vital plot points. Think of the portentous ball at Netherfield in P&P or the ball in London that crushes Marianne’s hopes in Sense and Sensibility. It is not only the young people of the book, then, who are looking forward to the possibility of a ball, but also the reader, who anticipates it as an important event.
Our anticipation, however, is doomed to be extinguished like a damp squib in the next chapter, as all of the careful measuring and assessment of the rooms at the Crown Inn will go for naught, at least for a while. The subtle metatextuality continues as Frank suggests that he go and fetch Miss Bates to get her opinion about the suitability of the rooms. When Emma protests that Miss Bates will be of no use in the matter, Frank responds: "But she is so amusing, so extremely amusing! I am very fond of hearing Miss Bates talk" (176).
This exchange mirrors potential critical discourse regarding the novel. As we discussed last week, Miss Bates is a more important character than she initially seems, but the tendency of the reader early in the novel may be to think of her in terms similar to this exchange: she is not particularly "useful" to the plot, though it is amusing to hear her talk.
Volume two, Chapter 12
I wrote about this chapter extensively in the last post, so I'll keep it short here. Frank is called away by his aunt and must leave Highbury, and so, alas, the ball must be cancelled, or at least postponed.
Volume two, Chapter 13
Mrs. Weston receives a gracious letter from Frank, which Emma interprets as highly complimentary to herself. Meanwhile, Harriet is anxious about how she will respond to the forthcoming arrival of Mr. Elton and the new Mrs. Elton in Highbury. For possibly the first time, Emma gives Harriet good advice as she urges her to "think less, talk less of Mr. Elton" out of "a consideration of what is your duty, an attention to propriety, an endeavour to avoid the suspicions of others, to save your health and credit, to restore your tranquility" (184-185).
And she might add, along with the reader, that Harriet should not waste any time or effort thinking of Elton. She is better than him. Emma reaches this conclusion herself as the chapter concludes, as Harriet expresses her gratitude and love for her.
Volume two, Chapter 14: Enter Mrs. Elton
Ah, Mrs. Elton! She is one of those supreme Austenian satirical portraits that at once seems utterly ridiculous and completely convincing. Think of Mr. Collins in P&P or Sir Walter Elliot in Persuasion. Her self-conceit, her lack of self-awareness, her presumptuousness, her unfounded snobbery, and her total lack of taste are all perfectly drawn.
For example, when Emma assures her of the beauty of their county, Mrs. Elton responds:
"Oh! yes, I am quite aware of that. It is the garden of England, you know. Surrey is the garden of England."
"Yes; but we must not rest our claims on this distinction. Many counties, I believe, are called the garden of England, as well as Surrey."
"No, I fancy not," replied Mrs. Elton, with a most satisfied smile. "I never heard any county but Surrey called so." (188)
The "you know" here would be enough to make us roll our eyes, but her self-assured rebuttal of Emma makes us gasp—and probably laugh. She goes on to presume that she and Emma, as the most important women in Highbury, should establish a musical club. And to cap it off, she refers to Mr. Knightley, whom she has only just met, by his surname, as "Knightley," as if they had frequented the same club for years.
Tangent: these days, every time I read the "garden of England" exchange in this chapter, I think of this little tune by Cornershop, a band which Mrs. Elton may decide to invite to her musical club:
England is a Garden is the name of the album as well, and it's great. If you like T. Rex, you'll love it. But I digress. On to the next chapter.
Volume two, Chapter 15
We now know Emma so well and have spent so much time inside her head, that we know exactly what she thinks of Mrs. Elton without having to be told, and like the reader, Emma's first impression is not good: "Emma was not required, by any subsequent discovery, to retract her ill opinion of Mrs. Elton" (193). In fact, the rest of this volume provides plenty of evidence for how insufferable she is.
Her patronizing attitude about Jane Fairfax is further evidence. She especially approves of Jane's "timidity": "in those who are at all inferior, it is extremely prepossessing" (195).
🙄
She goes on to suggest the she and Emma should set an example for the rest of the town by paying more attention to Jane. This actually makes Emma feel pity for poor Miss Fairfax.
Later, Mr. Knightley remarks to Emma and Mrs. Weston that Jane is so superior to Mrs. Elton that "no degree of vanity can prevent her acknowledging her own comparative littleness in action, if not in consciousness" (198). This praise of Jane leads Emma to hint that he may have feelings for her, but he denies this and explains that she "has not the open temper which a man would wish for in a wife" (199).
Volume two, Chapter 16
This is an important chapter, both in terms of plot (though we will not understand its full significance until later), and in what it shows us about Jane Fairfax. We discover that Jane takes a daily walk to the post office to collect letters for the Bates household: "A walk before breakfast does me good" (202). Mr. John Knightley points out that it rained this morning, but Jane says that the weather did not trouble her.
When Mrs. Elton hears about Jane's wet walk, she is alarmed and says to Mrs. Weston that "You and I must positively exert our authority" (203). (We may well ask what sort of authority either Mrs. Elton or Mrs. Weston has over poor Jane.) Mrs. Elton continues:
"We will not allow her to do such a thing again;"—and nodding significantly—"there must be some arrangement made, there must indeed. I shall speak to Mr. E. The man who fetches our letters every morning (one of our men, I forget his name) shall inquire for your's too and bring them to you." (204)
At first, Jane simply thanks her but declines, but when Mrs. Elton insists, we see a side of Miss Fairfax that we have not seen before. She shows determination and stands up for herself. Mrs. Elton has crossed a line, and Jane refuses to be robbed of her morning walks. Note that Mrs. Elton can't be bothered to remember the name of her servant, and by her forgetfulness she implies that she has so many servants that it is impossible to keep up with them all.
One more small observation about this chapter: after Mrs. Weston praises Frank Churchill's handwriting, Mr. Knightley disagrees and says that it "is like a woman's writing" (205).
Make of that what you will.
Volume two, Chapter 17
There are more revelations of character in this chapter, as Jane discusses with Mrs. Elton her sad future as a governess:
"There are places in town, offices, where inquiry would soon produce something—Offices for the sale—not quite of human flesh—but of human intellect."
"Oh! my dear, human flesh! You quite shock me; if you mean a fling at the slave-trade, I assure you Mr. Suckling was always rather a friend to the abolition." (207)
Again, in just a few lines of dialogue, Austen shows us so much. First, we have Jane's understandably melancholy feelings about her probable future. Mrs. Elton's response, however, is remarkably defensive. Last week, we discussed how Mrs. Elton's family's associations with mercantile trade in Bristol is a clear suggestion that they made their fortune in the slave trade before the abolition. She protests too much, and note that she claims that her brother-in-law, not her own father, was "rather a friend to the abolition." Note also the use of the ambivalent word "rather." More of Mrs. Elton's horrible behavior follows.
The end of the chapter reveals the news that Frank Churchill will soon return to Highbury! Squee!
Volume two, Chapter 18
The final chapter of the volume begins with a rare conversation that does not involve Emma. We have Mr. Weston delivering the news to Mrs. Elton of Frank's forthcoming arrival, and in return he receives the full brunt of Mrs.-Eltonness (Mrs.-Eltonocity?). For one thing, she fishes for a compliment in hinting that Frank may never heard of her. The amusing thing about Mr. Weston's reply is that it may actually be honest: "I believe Mrs. Weston's letters lately have been full of very little else than Mrs. Elton" (213). Indeed.
We also discover that Mrs. Elton feels "quite a horror of upstarts" (214). The woman is an unintentional irony machine.
The volume concludes with Emma responding to John Knightley's comment about her busy social calendar, which may prevent her from being able to tend to his children while they visit: "These amazing engagements of mine—what have they been? Dining once with the Coles—and having a ball talked of, which never took place" (216).
True enough. Emma reminds us of her claustrophobically narrow sphere. Could it be about to widen?
Thanks for reading, from my fancy internet irony machine to yours.
The brief exchange between Jane and Mrs Elton shines a light on Jane's intelligence (her ironic reference to the situation of a governess in the period) and Mrs Elton's total unawareness in picking up on it - what IS she thinking of by suggesting "a fling at the slave trade" would be something Jane might consider?
🙄 speaks volumes, haha