When I first discovered Jane Austen, tearing through my one-volume edition of her works in a two-week period, Emma was certainly my least favorite. It was long, and nothing really momentous seemed to happen, and I just didn't like Emma as much as Austen's other heroines. I was hoping that my feelings would be softened after rereading, and they have been. I feel I am finally appreciating Emma for its brilliant character sketches, sly, understated humor, and firm moral footing. Be warned, this review contains spoilers.

Emma is the brightest, most accomplished young woman in her retired country neighborhood of Highbury. She lives with her invalid father at their estate at Hartfield, enjoying her position of prominence. Everyone adores clever, pretty Emma... everyone, that is, except her brother-in-law George Knightley. He claims the right of a family friend to see Emma's faults and to sometimes make her see them as well, so that she might change. Despite this honesty and the disparity in their ages (Knightley was sixteen when Emma was born), the two are good friends. But when Emma turns matchmaker and begins to direct the romantic affairs of her new protegé, Harriet Smith, Knightley warns her she is not helping her friend. Emma, not lacking faith in her own wisdom, is sure she knows more about matchmaking than any mere man could and pursues her plans anyways.

Emma really is a great character. I didn't dislike her this time around, probably because I finally admitted to myself our similarities. Her dislike of Jane Fairfax and neglect of Mrs. and Miss Bates spring from a fault I must also own to. What makes Emma likeable is not her offenses, but how she responds when they are pointed out to her. She makes some foolish and even spiteful mistakes, but sincerely repents and tries to make amends. Honest friends are precious, even when the truths they speak are unpleasant to hear. Emma is a smart, generally kind person who nevertheless makes some bad mistakes — and learns from them. It doesn't make sense not to like Emma. She gives us hope!

The characters are pure Austen and very funny and poignant indeed. Miss Bates is quite funny; her speeches must have been such fun to write. Mrs. Elton is the odious woman you love to hate, always conniving for compliments and treating others with a most disgusting familiarity. Her speech when they are picking strawberries made me laugh out loud. Her husband, Mr. Elton, thoroughly deserves her. His behavior really is cruel, and unlike Emma, he never repents of it. Rather, he and his wife rejoice at how they score off Emma by slighting Harriet at the ball. There's really no hope for change when people are proud of their bad behavior!

One thing I realized on this reread is how badly fathers fare in Austen's work. I can't think of a single father who is portrayed in a good light; either the father is not present or is ridiculous. In Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Bennet is loving but indolent, more interested in his own comfort than in the affairs of his family. In Persuasion, Sir Walter Elliot is a social-climbing and vain fop. In Northanger Abbey, General Tilney is a grasping, greedy, ill-mannered man. And in Emma, Mr. Woodhouse is a hypochondriac who is incapable of imagining that others could feel differently from himself, especially on matters of health and marriage. He is always denying his guests the delicacies that Emma tries to provide, because he honestly believes those tidbits will ruin their digestion. He is much beloved, of course, and very polite and well liked in his circle, but still utterly ridiculous. I suppose the leading men represent the male of the species well enough to make up for the deficiencies of the fathers, but it's still rather troubling that fatherhood gets such a one-sided portrayal in Austen's world.

Some readers are disturbed by the difference in Emma's and Knightley's ages; when the story opens she is twenty-one and he thirty-seven. Knightley has been accused of "grooming" Emma to be his bride, forming all her opinions and ironing out her faults for his own future benefit. I think this idea gives Emma far less credit than she deserves, for one thing! She isn't exactly a moldable, pliant woman like Harriet Smith. And such a view completely misunderstands Knightley's own character. He is an honorable, upright man who would never stoop to such a tactic. He never corrects Emma with the plan of marrying her once she is all improved; the thought of marrying her never enters his head until fairly late in the story. In the early chapters when Mrs. Weston speaks to him about Emma, he talks about Emma's resolution to never marry without any particular feeling on the matter. Clearly he doesn't think it concerns him at all. There is a part at the end where Emma and Knightley are joking with each other and he says he fell in love with her when she was thirteen, the first time he pointed out one of her flaws. But for all those years he doesn't realize what his feelings are, and never seeks to control Emma's social or romantic life. Surely a creepy cradle-robber would have been much more aggressive in securing his fair intended?

Lastly, I should mention a few of the film adaptations of this story. My personal favorite is the Gwyneth Paltrow version; it is very lighthearted and fun, and stays fairly close to the original. Rachel Portman's score for it is just lovely, too. I've only seen the Kate Beckinsale version once, but I remember it being rather humorless and drab, and sorely lacking panache. But I know many fans prefer it, so perhaps I need to give it another try. If the Beckinsale version is your favorite, drop by my profile or challenge thread and tell me why. I love a good discussion.

Emma is probably not the best place for a new Austen reader to start, and it may be that on your first read, you — with the penetration of common sense imparted by the omniscient narrative — will be as frustrated as I was with Emma's wilful mistakes. But the story is worth another visit, and Emma should be an encouragement rather than an annoyance to anyone who has ever bungled something. It can't be that I am the only one! Smart, funny, and highly recommended. ( )

Excellent story, although it took me a short while to get into it. Once I'd got into it (probably about 50 pages or so in) I couldn't put it down. ( )

Emma is an interesting character who thinks herself a matchmaker. How she slowly discovers that she truly loves Mr. Knightley makes up the bulk of the book. ( )

I have been a fan of Jane Austen for quite some time, with only a couple popular books left to read, I was excited for Emma, but after finishing I found it wasn’t as enjoyable as I had a imagined. I couldn’t keep my focus and half the time was confused as to the characters.

Emma is supposed to be a comedic novel about misinterpreted romance. Emma is spoiled and rich, not a care but herself, and Austen proclaimed prior to publishing that Emma was probably a character most people would not enjoy, but herself.

The story covers the lives of many characters and involves Emma’s quest at matchmaking, unable to find love herself. Emma focuses her quest on her young friend Harriet, but when things don’t go as planned, Emma finds herself questioning the new match and the future.

I hope to re-read this again in the future, maybe after seeing the film, and having more of a connection with the story.

Det tycks som om Jane Austen tröttnade på att skriva om väluppfostrade dygdemönster till hjältinnor: Emma Woodhouse skulle nästan passa som en avskyvärd kusin eller syster någonstans som på grund av sin högfärd och inbilskhet gör allt för att hindra det lyckliga slutet, och skulle som sådan ställa till med en hel del förtret. Fast ändå inte, ty Emma inser naturligtvis till slut alltid när hon handlat fel och rättar sig, och hon har faktiskt en stor portion förmåga att göra rätt från början: det är egentligen bara andra ungmör i hennes närhet som hon lyckas trassla till saker för (även om det vore långt mer moraliskt rättvist om hon kunde göra detsamma för några av de självupptagna bifigurer som finns i romanen).

Det kanske är lika bra att ta det från början: Emma Woodhouse bor med sin gamle, rike, orolige fader. Hon har för ovanlighetens skull inte det minsta pengabekymmer (även om andra i hennes omgivning kompenserar för detta klara karaktärsfel hos en Austenhjältinna), hon är vacker, intelligent, beter sig för det mesta väluppfostrat. Så vad kan då fattas henne? Tja, något att göra, förutom att ta hand om fadern och hushållet: den brist på verklighetsförankring hon uppvisar – hon låter ofta sin fantasi springa iväg med henne och formar idéer som sedan visar sig helt sakna grund – tycks vara ett resultat av den instängda tillvaron i ett samhälle där varje ny ankomst ger diskussionsunderlag för flera veckor. Speciellt illa drabbar fantasierna Harriet Smith, oäkta dotter till någon som satt henne i internatskola, som Emma tar under sina vingar och försöker få att uppträda som en dam, utan en tanke på att hon kanske aldrig kan komma att få de pengar som krävs för sådant.

När Emma först börjar med detta är det nästan så man vill ge upp för att slippa läsa om hennes inbilska, uppblåsta beteende. Som tur är går detta över, och till slut var det hela så spännande att jag inte kunde lägga ifrån mig boken vid normalt sovdags – något som inte hänt på riktigt länge. Till den köping som utgör Emmas hela värld – hennes orolige far hindrar henne från att röra sig längre sträckor – kommer nämligen nya människor, och snart har alla dragits in i ett väldigt spekulerande om vem som egentligen är förälskad i vem. Emmas fantasifullhet gör att man förstår att hennes gissningar troligen är fel – speciellt som det motsägs av den mer klarsynte Mr. Knightley – men det innebär ju inte alltför mycket. Det är dock fullt möjligt att lista ut åtminstone vissa av dessa kärlekspar på förhand.

I en av de där fantastiskt avslöjande essäerna som bifogats texten – varför de prompt skall vara först förstår jag inte; de ger ingen större glädje till den som inte redan läst berättelsen – klandras en av filmatiseringarna för att den placerar alltför stor emfas vid klassamhället. Författaren påstår att Emma i själva verket speglar ett samhälle där sådana distinktioner nästan suddats ut. Det är märkligt, för av de Austen-romaner som jag hittills hunnit med är detta nog den där huvudpersonen varit mest upptagen med att hon tillhör en bättre samhällsklass: man kan ge gåvor till och prata vänligt – inte nedlåtande! – med de mindre bemedlade, men en fri bonde går inte att umgås med, och hon den nyinflyttade köpmansdottern skall inte tro att hon har någon rätt att föreställa bygdens främsta dam (hennes totala vulgaritet är nog snudd på rekord till och med hos Austen). Och kan man verkligen gå på middag hos paret Coles? De verkar ju vara trevligt folk, men någon verklig klass verkar de inte ha– de har ju själva tjänat ihop sina pengar!

Nå, detta var som sagt första boken på länge som höll mig vaken längre än planerat (Austen har till och med lyckats få till ett slut som inte tycks alltför abrubt) vilket gör att jag inte kan annat än rekommendera den varmt. ( )