Here we are in early-to-middling Emma, otherwise known as “the introduction section.” Jane Fairfax! Mrs. Augusta Elton! The Campbells, the Dixons, and the Coles, and one mysterious pianoforte! Some of these people are important and some of them are not, and one of them is an inanimate object, but Jane wishes you to remember them all. (It’s okay if you have to page back to remember about the Dixons. Not that I would do that. But you, my friends, are perfectly allowed.)
Moving on!
Harriet, sweet Harriet. (Anybody? Anybody?) In this section, the true suckitude of Harriet’s situation comes into focus—for the reader if not for Emma. She’s running into her ex at the store! Her not-really-ex is showing up with his new wife! Whether Harriet herself sees the ways in which Emma’s screwed her over is anybody’s guess.
(I’ve been thinking more about Emma and what she does to Harriet, and I love how Jane makes her so totally confident in the bull-in-Royal-Doulton-outlet effect she’s having on Harriet’s life. Not a doubt to be seen! I read recently that the key to writing a good villain is creating a character who believes 100% that he or she is in the right; I don’t think Austen meant for Emma to be a villain, exactly, but I don’t think “heroine” is quite the word at this juncture, either.)
Aaaand here we meet Jane Fairfax, a character I cycle between half-forgetting (“…Jane. Right. The orphan. Yes. I knew that.”) and not knowing what to make of. And I suppose that’s what Jane/Emma/Mr. Knightley means by “one cannot love a reserved person”—we’re continually told how lovely this beautiful and accomplished orphan-and-governess-to-be is, but we never get a grasp on her, even when things get, ahem, REAL. This sensation intensifies towards the end of the novel (wink wink, nudge nudge, all of you who’ve read this before), and maybe it’s a story for a later post, but for now let’s just say: frustrating and fascinating and also kind of a ghost. WHO ARE YOU, JANE FAIRFAX?
Hee, Frank Churchill goes sixteen miles each way ON HORSEBACK to get his hair cut. Emma thinks this is kind of dumb. There’s “an air of foppery and nonsense in it which she could not approve,” and if you think I won’t be working the words “an air of foppery” into casual conversation this week, well, we must not know each other very well.
And finally, Emma condescends to have dinner with the Coles, who are “only moderately genteel,” and now you know what I’m getting embroidered onto satin jackets for my immediate family this Christmas. The Coles probably eat squeeze cheese on Triscuits during the Super Bowl, too. Finally, I’ve found my people in the Jane Austen universe!
Readers? Thoughts?
austenacious 
I’m never sure when I read “Emma” whether Harriet really understands the ways that her friend is wrecking her happiness. Because social advancement by any means possible is really quite common during this period, and it’s only natural for a young, trusting, and impressionable woman–even if she has no mercenary views on marriage–to be swayed by Emma’s confidence that she could very easily make a brilliant (for her) match and elevate her social standing. Harriet knows her situation as an illegitimate child, and without Emma’s influence, she would never have considered reaching higher than Mr. Martin, who is perfectly within her social sphere, and who she happens to love. She would never have dreamed that Mr. Elton’s vague attentions were intended for her without Emma talking her into believing it. Even then, I’m not sure Harriet really believed it. Her dear friend had already convinced her Mr. Martin was an inelegible suitor (if she wanted to remain Emma’s friend, that is), so I think Harriet must have pinned her hopes on the idea that the situation would turn out as Emma expected and that she wouldn’t have given up Mr. Martin for nothing. After all, there is something gratifying to the vanity in the idea that the most eligible and handsome bachelor in town–who could have anyone and is socially superior to you–is flirting with you and intends to marry you.
Anyway, Emma is a bull in a china shop with no awareness of how her own shortcomings. And every time I read the book, she impresses me more and more with her arrogance and stubborn ignorance. I agree that she’s definitely not the heroine of the novel until much later. Actually, I’m not sure she’s EVER the real heroine. It’s as if Jane Austen wrote a novel with Jane Fairfax as the heroine, but instead decided to tell it from the perspective of one of the mostly well-meaning secondary characters in Jane’s story. Emma is really just as persistent a meddler as Mrs. Elton. The difference is that Mrs. Elton actually seeks to benefit Jane Fairfax. Sure she also wants to spite Miss Woodhouse, but who wouldn’t? But she seeks to benefit Jane in material–and possible–ways that will improve her future prospects as a governess. What does Emma want to do? Make an extremely unlikely match between the vicar and an illegitimate young woman (however deserving and beautiful); and later between a rich young man and an illegitimate young woman. And Emma’s exertions to bring either of those dreams about are minimal. Whereas Mrs. Elton uses her connections to secure Jane Fairfax a very good position.
I never feel any anxiety about Emma’s future and whether she’ll get what she wants. All my anxiety is for poor Harriet and Jane and the other victims of Emma’s willful ignorance. Even her brief uncertainty over whether Mr. Knightly is lost to her because of her own actions can’t redeem her as the novel’s heroine.
Can a character really be a heroine if one only wants to slap her and tell her to leave these poor girls alone and for God’s sake find a more productive hobby than matchmaking?
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I love the idea of this being Jane Fairfax’s story told through the eyes of a side character, because I always feel like I can get behind Jane a lot more than I can Emma. But I think that’s partly because I (and some movie adaptations) invent a personality for Jane to make her more relatable and likable.
Have you ever read In Defense of Mrs. Elton? I think it’s right in line with a lot of your points about Mrs. Elton, who I feel is in many ways a villain only because the book is from Emma’s point of view and Emma dislikes her. It’s at http://www.jasna.org/publications/defense/index.htm.
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I haven’t read In Defence of Mrs. Elton yet, but it’s now on my list! Thanks for the tip.
To your point about movie adaptations giving Jane a personality, I agree. Although I don’t recall that she had much personality in the Gwnyeth Paltrow version. She’s very one-dimensional in the novel–but I think that’s precisely because the novel is from Emma’s viewpoint and she dislikes Jane and has never made a real effort to become acquainted with her. So the reader doesn’t become intimately acquainted with her either and it’s just as much of a shock to us (the first time) as it is to Emma to learn about the connection between Jane and a certain other person in Highbury. Of course it shocks others too, because Jane is very reserved and gives nothing away. And why should Jane respond to Emma’s lukewarm overtures now when she hasn’t been offered the least attention or mark of friendship in the past?
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What really bothers me is that Emma has known Jane since they were children, but still treats her as though they are little more than strangers. She’s never bothered to get to know her. Jane may be reserved, but she always strikes me as every bit as intelligent as Emma, and a lot better behaved. Great, now I’m mad at Emma again.
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And all because she feels intellectually inferior to Jane! But justifies her neglect by telling herself that Jane is too reserved and she just can’t get to know her.
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