I am loving this book so much. I especially enjoyed Mr. John Knightly’s rant in the carriage. It will be running through my head every time someone expects me to leave my house after 5 pm!
John, you are making such a great case for the quality of “Emma” as a novel, and I’m enjoying my re-reading of it with you. I especially like your analysis of what Austen’s third-person narration accomplishes, the way she used indirect discourse and tart summaries of dialogue to get across Emma’s thoughts as well as the constrained social scene. The awkward carriage ride with Mr.Elton is truly funny - he is such a sycophant, and Emma has so many realizations about how wrong she was - but she literally can’t escape her “oh no!” thoughts in the slow-moving carriage.
As for John Knightley, he is another one of my favorite side characters (the “flat” ones in Forster’s sense). His curmudgeonly truth-speaking resonates with me (I’m a curmudgeon, too), and you’re right that he speaks to the reader’s impatience without pointing to the Author of This Text in a pomo way. The passage you quote is so sly and socially observant on Austen’s part, and I really love his grousing: “here we are setting forward to spend five dull hours in another man's house, with nothing to say or to hear that was not said and heard yesterday, and may not be said and heard again tomorrow.”
Yes, Austen often has a character whom she wheels on to the stage to "tell the truth" to the heroine in uncomfortable ways, and they are always engaging. I'm thinking, for example of Charlotte in P&P.
Yes, Charlotte! Agree with your point, but she also has more impact on the action in P&P than John Knightley (or appears to so far). Charlotte marries the fulsome Mr.Collins - another minister previously rejected by our fair hero - and in so doing brings Elizabeth into the noxious orbit of Lady Catherine de Bourgh (talk about a wonderfully satirical flat character) and Darcy.
This section of the novel is one that actually adapts quite well to the screen, as the watchers can see what Emma cannot, that Mr. Elton is paying her particular attentions. It is the kind of tension building that makes you want to yell at the scream "Pay attention" and then cover your eyes when Mr. Elton finally seizes the moment.
There is only one part of this section that I have difficulty believing, and that is the snow being such an important pivot. It is a purely cultural cause of disbelief, because here in Canada, it would take a lot more than a little snowfall to stop us - if we didn't, we would be stuck at home for six months every year.
Ha! Yes, the snow. I think that's part of the comic effect: it's barely a dusting, but cause for alarm in sunny Surrey. I'm sure that the Brontë sisters would have rolled their eyes at this as well, from their perspective in chilly Yorkshire.
PS Having grown up in North Carolina, I can attest to this kind of alarm in warm climates at even the mention of the possibility of snow: grocery store shelves suddenly empty.
When I read John Knightley's speech about the futility of the dinner party, I felt he was speaking for me and all homebodies!
And I must admit that the thought below of Emma's has entered my mind in my more arrogant moments, and I at two and sixty, haven't the youthful excuse of someone who is one and twenty!
"Perhaps it was not fair to expect him to feel how very much he was her inferior in talent, and all the elegancies of mind. The very want of such equality might prevent his perception of it;"
John, I’m so late caching up and responding to this commentary, but I just didn't want to miss it. It’s such a pleasure – the fineness of your insights and the sharp discriminations of your judgement every step of the way at this very small scale of behavior and analysis. I feel as if I can hear your enthusiasm for the novel in your voice and how it must pass along your appreciation to your students.
Your “embarrassing admission” about Sanditon encourages me to risk these two thoughts that occurred as I read you. You comment on what could seem the almost pointless ordinariness of the residents of a small town braving bad weather to attend a dinner party with people they see every day, who will have nothing new or compelling to say beyond what they all already know. But you explain how it offers such compelling story telling in miniature.
It provoked in my mind the odd comparison to some differently talented storytellers – the writers of early Marvel Comics. I was a fan throughout my preteens and teens, especially of Spiderman, decades before Marvel stormed Hollywood. I recall issues in which Stan Lee or Roy Thomas would bring high school or college student Peter Parker together with his motley collection of friends at a much-anticipated party –- even though, as is so in high school, they all saw each other every day and already knew all the gossip and tensions of their lives. The pleasure for the characters and for the reader is in the combination of the ingredients of that particular stew that night.
That thought provoked the completely unrelated recollection of the start of my first reading of Paradise Lost. I was gob smacked by how terrific it was and reveled in all Satan’s grandiloquent, heroic posturing in rebellion. I thought, OMG, this is the greatest Thor comic ever written! LOL.
Thanks, Jay! I was raised on those original Spiderman comics as well. I had them in these little paperback-book reissues in the 70s. I wonder if those are in a box somewhere. And yes, Paradise Lost could be the ultimate Marvel movie with the right director and an enormous budget.
I read Emma immediately after P and P earlier this year. I cannot describe how tedious the former appeared to me after the pace and vibe of the latter. The trivial nature of the script of Emma, was Jane Austen trying to trivialise our lives? Not for me, sorry. I prefer the hopeful, the inspirational. The so contemporary magic of P and P makes it continuously readable, and to be learned from.
I am loving this book so much. I especially enjoyed Mr. John Knightly’s rant in the carriage. It will be running through my head every time someone expects me to leave my house after 5 pm!
Oh, I’m right there with you. Introverts unite!
John, you are making such a great case for the quality of “Emma” as a novel, and I’m enjoying my re-reading of it with you. I especially like your analysis of what Austen’s third-person narration accomplishes, the way she used indirect discourse and tart summaries of dialogue to get across Emma’s thoughts as well as the constrained social scene. The awkward carriage ride with Mr.Elton is truly funny - he is such a sycophant, and Emma has so many realizations about how wrong she was - but she literally can’t escape her “oh no!” thoughts in the slow-moving carriage.
As for John Knightley, he is another one of my favorite side characters (the “flat” ones in Forster’s sense). His curmudgeonly truth-speaking resonates with me (I’m a curmudgeon, too), and you’re right that he speaks to the reader’s impatience without pointing to the Author of This Text in a pomo way. The passage you quote is so sly and socially observant on Austen’s part, and I really love his grousing: “here we are setting forward to spend five dull hours in another man's house, with nothing to say or to hear that was not said and heard yesterday, and may not be said and heard again tomorrow.”
Yes, Austen often has a character whom she wheels on to the stage to "tell the truth" to the heroine in uncomfortable ways, and they are always engaging. I'm thinking, for example of Charlotte in P&P.
And the son-in-law (of Mrs Jennings?) played by Hugh Laurie in Thompson's S&S. He's one of my favorite, hilarious characters in that movie.
Yes, Charlotte! Agree with your point, but she also has more impact on the action in P&P than John Knightley (or appears to so far). Charlotte marries the fulsome Mr.Collins - another minister previously rejected by our fair hero - and in so doing brings Elizabeth into the noxious orbit of Lady Catherine de Bourgh (talk about a wonderfully satirical flat character) and Darcy.
Marvelous. Love your take on the awkward moments in the carriage and how so much that's going on in the novel comes together in that scene.
And I adore this passage you chose from John Knightley. John Knightley for president 🤣😊
This section of the novel is one that actually adapts quite well to the screen, as the watchers can see what Emma cannot, that Mr. Elton is paying her particular attentions. It is the kind of tension building that makes you want to yell at the scream "Pay attention" and then cover your eyes when Mr. Elton finally seizes the moment.
There is only one part of this section that I have difficulty believing, and that is the snow being such an important pivot. It is a purely cultural cause of disbelief, because here in Canada, it would take a lot more than a little snowfall to stop us - if we didn't, we would be stuck at home for six months every year.
Ha! Yes, the snow. I think that's part of the comic effect: it's barely a dusting, but cause for alarm in sunny Surrey. I'm sure that the Brontë sisters would have rolled their eyes at this as well, from their perspective in chilly Yorkshire.
PS Having grown up in North Carolina, I can attest to this kind of alarm in warm climates at even the mention of the possibility of snow: grocery store shelves suddenly empty.
When I read John Knightley's speech about the futility of the dinner party, I felt he was speaking for me and all homebodies!
And I must admit that the thought below of Emma's has entered my mind in my more arrogant moments, and I at two and sixty, haven't the youthful excuse of someone who is one and twenty!
"Perhaps it was not fair to expect him to feel how very much he was her inferior in talent, and all the elegancies of mind. The very want of such equality might prevent his perception of it;"
Ah, but it’s all about the self-awareness, David!
Generous!
John, I’m so late caching up and responding to this commentary, but I just didn't want to miss it. It’s such a pleasure – the fineness of your insights and the sharp discriminations of your judgement every step of the way at this very small scale of behavior and analysis. I feel as if I can hear your enthusiasm for the novel in your voice and how it must pass along your appreciation to your students.
Your “embarrassing admission” about Sanditon encourages me to risk these two thoughts that occurred as I read you. You comment on what could seem the almost pointless ordinariness of the residents of a small town braving bad weather to attend a dinner party with people they see every day, who will have nothing new or compelling to say beyond what they all already know. But you explain how it offers such compelling story telling in miniature.
It provoked in my mind the odd comparison to some differently talented storytellers – the writers of early Marvel Comics. I was a fan throughout my preteens and teens, especially of Spiderman, decades before Marvel stormed Hollywood. I recall issues in which Stan Lee or Roy Thomas would bring high school or college student Peter Parker together with his motley collection of friends at a much-anticipated party –- even though, as is so in high school, they all saw each other every day and already knew all the gossip and tensions of their lives. The pleasure for the characters and for the reader is in the combination of the ingredients of that particular stew that night.
That thought provoked the completely unrelated recollection of the start of my first reading of Paradise Lost. I was gob smacked by how terrific it was and reveled in all Satan’s grandiloquent, heroic posturing in rebellion. I thought, OMG, this is the greatest Thor comic ever written! LOL.
Thanks, Jay! I was raised on those original Spiderman comics as well. I had them in these little paperback-book reissues in the 70s. I wonder if those are in a box somewhere. And yes, Paradise Lost could be the ultimate Marvel movie with the right director and an enormous budget.
Emma, one of favorites by Austen. Recently reread it, John, and you add so much here.
John
I read Emma immediately after P and P earlier this year. I cannot describe how tedious the former appeared to me after the pace and vibe of the latter. The trivial nature of the script of Emma, was Jane Austen trying to trivialise our lives? Not for me, sorry. I prefer the hopeful, the inspirational. The so contemporary magic of P and P makes it continuously readable, and to be learned from.
I hear you, and many agree. I think what Austen does in Emma is fundamentally different from P&P. Not everyone’s cup of tea.
Very much enjoying your commentary.
Thank you, Steve.
I do love a good over-the-top metatextual machination, but you’re right, Austen’s mastery is perfect in itself.
Oh, yes, I love the Pomo stuff as well. But I tend to return to Austen more than I do to Pynchon and DeLillo :)