The JANE AUSTEN CAGE MATCH is on!
Robert has finally sent me his essay. I've sent him mine---both will be posted here and at The Llamabutchers . Just to refresh your memory, the rules are as follows:
1. A 500 word essay
2. One rebuttal each
3. You vote to see who wins.
Without further ado, here is Robert's essay.
There is a certain “pitchforks and torches†character to most criticism of Emma. This often takes the form of facile dismissal – Emma is a rich, selfish, thoughtless bitch: why should we care? More’s the pity, because in fact Emma is one of the most emotionally conducive figures in literature. First of all, there are the charms that bind us to Emma in the opening chapters. Among these are her innate goodness, as illustrated by her happiness for the Westons’ marriage, her exertions to ensure her father’s comfort, and other smaller episodes. Indeed, it is critical to remember that in taking Harriet Smith under her wing, Emma genuinely believes – however wrongly – that she is doing a good thing. Emma also is undoubtedly intelligent. Indeed, Mr. Knightly believes that her natural cleverness at an early age is a factor in her spoiled condition. But Emma’s intelligence is manifested in more than mere cleverness or competence. For example, her declamation to Harriet on why she (Emma) plans never to marry, despite containing a certain amount of posturing vanity, demonstrates a very clear understanding of the politics of marriage in her world. Second, I do not believe that Emma has a sudden epiphany about herself after the Box Hill incident. Rather, she is aware of her own shortcomings at a subconscious level from the very beginning, as illustrated by her constant attachment to Mr. Knightly despite the fact that he is the only character in the story who criticizes her - She seeks out his opinion because she knows this is good for her. It is these qualities in Emma, together with her charm and beauty, that make us love her – and make us all the more emotionally involved in the fallout from her shortcomings, chief among which, of course, is her self-blinding vanity. We cringe on Emma’s behalf when she so cruelly dismisses poor Farmer Martin and nearly destroys Harriet. We wish to flash warning signals at her as she idly muses about Jane Fairfax and Mr. Dixon and dallies with the shadowy Frank Churchill. We howl with laughter at her surprised indignation over Mr. Elton’s feverish proposal in the carriage. We genuinely weep with her over her Box Hill disgrace. Finally, we feel Emma’s distress at the sudden horrid thought of losing Mr. Knightly and her painfully humbling realization that such loss would, indeed, be entirely her own fault. And here, really, is why I enjoy Emma more than Pride and Prejudice. Elizabeth Bennett is a paragon of virtues. But she comes pre-packaged. Elizabeth’s struggle is with the world around her. Emma’s struggle is within herself and we, the readers, are made an intimate part of it. We are not treated to an omniscient third-person view of Highbury. Rather, we see what Emma sees and what Emma ought to see. The pattern of growth in her character is mapped by the eventual merger of these two viewpoints in her eyes. The true joy of the novel is watching Emma’s progress and arrival
And here is mine.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.Posted by Kathy at June 1, 2004 12:46 PM | TrackBackAnd so begins Pride and Prejudice,
a novel that has enthralled readers for almost two hundred years. The
plot could be summarized thusly: how to bag a rich husband when you
yourself are not rich. Women all over the world are still enslaved to
this task. However, our young heroine Miss Elizabeth Bennet has a
heavier load to bear than just trying to inveigle a man into buying her
a beach house: she wants to be in love with her husband, and if the man
just happens to be rich, well all the better, but it’s not really
necessary. The odds are not in her favor, yet Lizzie succeeds. She bags
Mr. Darcy and he loves her. Why? Because Lizzie has character. She has
strength. She knows what she wants. She’s not Wonder Woman, but she
could be. And what a spectacular superheroine she’d be. There
wouldn’t be any Peter Parker-ish quibbling over the heaviness of her
burdens; there wouldn’t be any Batman-like whining about
loneliness---although Alfred would undoubtedly hector her over the
state of the Batmobile, just because he’s Alfred. She may not be able
or fly above the skies of Metropolis, but Lex Luthor is a chump
compared to Lady Catherine De Bourgh. You have to admit, on a super
heroine level, Lizzie would make the League of Justice blush for all
the whining they’ve done over the years. And she’s just looking for
a husband---she’s not out to save the frickin’ world.
Yet, while our Lizzie possesses admirable qualities, the people she
encounters are not charmed. They think her coarse and opinionated; that
she does not know her station. While they plot against her, she never
willfully blinds herself to their intentions, hence she is able to
retaliate on her own terms. Lizzie chooses to be different: not simply to be contrary, but because she trusts her own heart and mind---and that makes
her different. Whatever issues she may wrestle with, she is confident
in her own abilities to suss out the situation in a rational manner.
She is a woman of sense, not silliness. Lizzie is admirable because she
chooses a challenging path; Emma chooses to make her life more
interesting by meddling in the affairs of others. There’s honestly no
comparison between their virtues: Lizzie is far superior and is much
more interesting to read about because the world conspires against her
goal: to find a husband she loves and respects. Emma has nothing to
lose and her blunders are of her own making, while Lizzie, by following
her path, deliberately places herself in a precarious situation where
to make a mistake would be to sabotage her entire future. Who would you
rather read about? A character who is naïve in the extreme? Or someone
who knows the world is against her yet has the courage to follow
through?