almost being brought to the brink of tears because of a Miss Bates was not on my bingo card for this adaptation.
I love how the reason Emma’s brash plans work in the moment is because all the other human and demon players are operating on roughly the same psychological level, where all players are at all times fully aware of each piece on the playing board, and both sides will be think of the same moves and counter moves that can be made, delaying the moves of either side, because neither side is going to react in erratic ways without considering all the consequences of their actions, and this is assured because both sides think so similarly.
And then there’s Emma who’s just like “I’m going to do the thing,” and no one ever expects it because she’s not playing or think of all the rules that all the other players are bound by.
“What a little brat” but affectionately
What's with all the orange haired sweethearts who are sunshine personified who have to contend with the harshest of realities? Like, give my sunshine children a break, please.
Jane Austen’s “Emma” Meta-analysis
The first time I read “Emma,” I had only one critique. I sincerely hoped that, by the end of the novel, Mr. Woodhouse would grow from a caricature to a character. And I thought Austen had the perfect opportunity- Emma’s fear to leave her invalid father for her new husband- and then ignored it.
I was wrong. Mr. Woodhouse’s eccentricity allows Jane Austen to slip in a sucker punch against the patriarchy. At this point, it’s either rant to Tumblr or bother my hot Brit Lit professor.
Let’s recap slightly. Emma and Knightley acknowledge their love for each other, but Emma can’t bear to leave her father. To make their marriage possible, Knightley agrees to move to Hartfield for the foreseeable future.
Does anyone notice how radical that is?
Under typical norms, Emma gives up her name, home, and identity. Moving into her husband’s house is just one facet of becoming legally and emotionally subservient. But Mr. Knightley moves in with them. He takes on the feminine gender role. Knightley leaves his home for his wife’s domain.
This isn’t just a single subversive act, it’s a way for Austin to demonstrate a critique of marriage at large. For the rest of the novel, the side characters tut about poor Knightley, losing his own personal space, facing horrid in-laws. The problems of marriage are considered inconsequential when faced by powerless young women. However, by subjecting an independent older bachelor to them, Austen shows the flaws in the marital contract.
- Wait, but isn’t the marriage plot the entire point of Jane Austen?-
This is where things get cool.
Austen gets away with it because she puts the impetus back on Mr. Woodhouse. Emma isn’t being subversive or feminist, she’s just a devoted daughter. For a conservative readership, this just plays into a different set of gender norms. The attack on marriage is veiled under a defense of paternal piety. Austen challenges the patriarchy…. under the cover of patriarchy!!!!
You knew she was a badass.