Emma - Jane Austen [5]
Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!
Or a trident? or a mermaid? or a shark?’), while Emma/Emma remains aloof (‘My dear Harriet, what are you thinking of?’).
The wordplay in Emma is essentially understated, and there is no attempt to show off the cleverness of the text. Unlike Mr Weston’s atrocious compliment to Emma, which is overstated in its praise for both the object and the author (‘What two letters of the alphabet are there, that express perfection?… I will tell you. – M and A – Emma – Do you understand?’), the text never pauses to ensure that the reader has grasped the point.19 When Emma is gazing on the gloomy ‘prospect’ of a lonely winter at Hartfield, for example, she picks up the pictorial metaphor of the preceding sentence, which in turn evokes the opening of the novel and Knightley’s first appearance:
The picture which she had then drawn of the privations of the approaching winter, had proved erroneous; no friends had deserted them, no pleasures had been lost. – But her present forebodings she feared would experience no similar contradiction. The prospect before her now, was threatening to a degree that could not be entirely dispelled.
The significance of ‘prospect’, which plays on the various ideas of anticipation, aspiration, observation and artistic creation that have run throughout the text, is merely left for the reader to notice or not; there is no ‘prospect – prospect, do you understand?’ Indeed, many of the double meanings are accessible only on second reading as when Frank Churchill, who has asked Emma to dance, excuses himself from the obligation to Mrs Elton with the words, ‘I am an engaged man.’ Later, the same wordplay becomes darker as Miss Bates describes Jane Fairfax’s future employment as a governess, recalling with some bewilderment her niece’s earlier refusal ‘to enter into any engagement at present’.
Although Austen claimed not to write ‘for such dull Elves,/As have not a great deal of Ingenuity themselves’, however, the pleasure of her text is by no means dependent on recognizing the puns and allusions.20 While some readers might enjoy the riddles and wordgames, others will be more interested in the comedy of manners, the psychological insights, or the satisfactions of the romantic plot. One of the great preoccupations of Emma is the subjectivity of perception and the way in which judgements depend on the personality and prejudices of the judge. It is thus a brave reader who ignores the persistent depiction of characters misreading situations, conversations, and even themselves, in order to arrive at a ‘correct’ interpretation of the novel.
Many scenes appear to work on more than one level, but if the reader is often flattered into assuming a position of superiority to the protagonists, there are constant hints at the limited nature of all aesthetic response. The episode in Chapter 6, for example, where Emma produces a portrait of Harriet to the admiring murmurs of Mr Elton, appears to be little more than situation comedy, based on the witty representation of the three characters’ misunderstandings of each other. Here, if anywhere, the reader seems to be treated to the accurate depiction of life so prized by Walter Scott and his successors; there even appears to be authorial endorsement of the importance of realism in art, in the narrator’s comment, ‘A likeness pleases every body.’