I realized today that this one conversation is a way to look at the group of entangled points I want to make about Emma and can even lead me into Jane Austen’s “insidious poisoners”: Mr. Collins, Mrs. Elton, and Mrs. Norris.

I have been loop-listening to Austen while I am at work creating jewelry, and if you’ve never listened to a book thirty times in a row while you weave copper— well, okay, you’re probably just normal. But it is an insanely intense way to completely know a written work. To see every crevice and insinuation, and to better view the big picture, too. I’ve spent many nights and weekends on the internet deep-diving regency dinner parties and the intricacies of address, like what “intimacy” meant and then, the deepest and strangely most important rabbithole, what were the rules of what you called people and what did it mean?

That’s the most crucial bit of context I found on the internet. Emma cannot be understood without it. Just literally cannot. Because “Jane” and “Harriet” cannot be understood without it, and Mrs. Elton’s sins most certainly can’t. Although I do not think Mrs. Elton needs it to be an insidious poisoner, it is unquestionably the most important contextual understanding needed to get what she’s doing, what she’s putting Jane through, and to be able to accurately judge just how disgusting it is.

*By the way, Mrs. Elton is one of my favorite Austen characters, hands down. I love her. I mean, she really tells Mr. Knightley, “I wish I had a donkey.” She’s near-perfect. But she’s also a lot more awful than we’re able to spot without one major translation tweak, and with that understanding her sparkling wit changes to 4K and she makes a lot more sense as Austen has written her. And it also makes the crushing weight of her on poor Jane almost intolerable to go through at times.

That’s another thing I’ve spent a lot of time on: mapping the events through Jane Fairfax’s eyes. I want to look at what Jane knows, when, where she is at all times, everything that’s said by Miss Bates that tells us anything about her, what’s going on with Frank and what stories he’s actually going along with versus what Emma thinks he’s saying, and I intend to ask the question:

Wouldn’t anyone but Emma have known Frank Churchill was with Jane?? Because it’s no wonder he thought she knew. I mean, his lies get so comically absurd at some point that he couldn’t have meant or expected them to be believed.

But what I most, most, most want to say is MISS BATES IS A BLIND!

A brilliant, stunning blind. The perfect plot device. And looking at that is amazing and fun. Not to mention inarguable. But you won’t want to argue. The moment I start showing you, you won’t believe you never saw it before. She is like a little circus surrounding Jane so that we never see Jane… until suddenly—by the work of Emma’s dinner party—Miss Bates is removed and we do. But Miss Bates is more than that. She gives amazing hints, but unless you’re paying more attention than you really can in even a few readings, you won’t pick up the Easter eggs. There are so many little things going on in the scenes with Frank Churchill or Jane Fairfax that you can’t always even know what you’re looking for to connect to that off-hand thing Miss Bates just said.

Although I have noticed that there’s a cue to pay attention. When Austen stops Miss Bates’ monologue to have Emma comment, Miss Bates has just said something worth catching.

“How do you do, Mrs. Ford? I beg your pardon. I did not see you before. I hear you have a charming collection of new ribbons from town. Jane came back delighted yesterday. Thank ye, the gloves do very well—only a little too large about the wrist; but Jane is taking them in.

“What was I talking of?” said she, beginning again when they were all in the street. Emma wondered on what, of all the medley, she would fix.

An absolute perfect line that still makes me laugh. But also a cue to ask, “‘Gloves?’ What gloves?”

Or the biggie and most obvious one: Miss Bates’ intricate, mixed-up puzzle monologue to Emma about what happened to make Jane take the job with the Smallridges. Which, because it is Miss Bates and more complicated, takes more separate quote-bits to finish the thought that Emma’s excellent commentary yanks us from.

“…I was so astonished when she first told me what she had been saying to Mrs. Elton, and when Mrs. Elton at the same moment came congratulating me upon it! It was before tea—stay—no, it could not be before tea, because we were just going to cards—and yet it was before tea, because I remember thinking—Oh! no, now I recollect, now I have it; something happened before tea, but not that. Mr. Elton was called out of the room before tea, old John Abdy’s son wanted to speak with him. Poor old John, I have a great regard for him…

…

“…and so, when Mr. Elton came back, he told us what John ostler had been telling him, and then it came out about the chaise having been sent to Randalls to take Mr. Frank Churchill to Richmond. That was what happened before tea. It was after tea that Jane spoke to Mrs. Elton.”

…

…which messenger, however, had been no more than was expected; and that Mr. Churchill had sent his nephew a few lines, containing, upon the whole, a tolerable account of Mrs. Churchill, and only wishing him not to delay coming back beyond the next morning early; but that Mr. Frank Churchill having resolved to go home directly, without waiting at all, and his horse seeming to have got a cold, Tom had been sent off immediately for the Crown chaise, and the ostler had stood out and seen it pass by, the boy going a good pace, and driving very steady.

There was nothing in all this either to astonish or interest, and it caught Emma’s attention only as it united with the subject which already engaged her mind. The contrast between Mrs. Churchill’s importance in the world, and Jane Fairfax’s, struck her; one was every thing, the other nothing…

The “nothing to astonish or interest” is that Jane Fairfax suddenly took the job right after she learned that Frank had ridden off, earlier than he’d needed to, without saying goodbye.

(Have I mentioned that Emma should have known that Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax were together?)

But all the things I’ve been learning about and have put together about “Emma” keep bleeding into each other when I try to write about them. The thing that I want to write most about is Miss Bates being a blind. That’s pure fun. And something I haven’t seen or heard focused on.

But because Miss Bates is not just an exceptional plot device but also a crucial narrator, and most importantly a real pressure point on Jane Fairfax… I am back to needing the rules of address and my focus has splintered again.

However, today I figured out that I can use this critical conversation between Mrs. Weston, Mr. Knightley and Emma about why Jane Fairfax “consents to be with the Eltons” to get to all the above. Bit by bit.

I like it not only because it’s a very particular way of bringing forward points that the author wants us to be aware of—like the conversations in Pride and Prejudice at Bingley’s—but also because half of what Mr. Knightley says needs the “rules of address” translation tweak to be properly understood. And the bonus that makes it all perfect is Jane Austen—counterintuitively and just this once—allowing Emma to be very precisely and exactly right on every point in her summation. (And you need her saucy lead-in to make the perfection fully sparkle.)

*(Just her exactly-right-summary first, then I will post the whole conversation, or at least all the relevant parts and the short lead-up, skipping over the bit about Mr. Knightley liking or not liking Jane romantically. I want to focus on the bit about Jane Fairfax and Mrs. Elton.)

Emma’s exactly right summary:

“In that respect how unlike dear Mrs. Elton, who wants to be wiser and wittier than all the world! I wonder how she speaks of the Coles—what she calls them! How can she find any appellation for them, deep enough in familiar vulgarity? She calls you, Knightley—what can she do for Mr. Cole? And so I am not to be surprized that Jane Fairfax accepts her civilities and consents to be with her. Mrs. Weston, your argument weighs most with me. I can much more readily enter into the temptation of getting away from Miss Bates than I can believe in the triumph of Miss Fairfax’s mind over Mrs. Elton. I have no faith in Mrs. Elton’s acknowledging herself the inferior in thought, word, or deed; or in her being under any restraint beyond her own scanty rule of good-breeding. I cannot imagine that she will not be continually insulting her visitor with praise, encouragement, and offers of service; that she will not be continually detailing her magnificent intentions, from the procuring her a permanent situation to the including her in those delightful exploring parties which are to take place in the barouche-landau.”

Full:

She looked on with some amusement.—Miss Bates’s gratitude for Mrs. Elton’s attentions to Jane was in the first style of guileless simplicity and warmth. She was quite one of her worthies—the most amiable, affable, delightful woman—just as accomplished and condescending as Mrs. Elton meant to be considered. Emma’s only surprize was that Jane Fairfax should accept those attentions and tolerate Mrs. Elton as she seemed to do. She heard of her walking with the Eltons, sitting with the Eltons, spending a day with the Eltons! This was astonishing!—She could not have believed it possible that the taste or the pride of Miss Fairfax could endure such society and friendship as the Vicarage had to offer.

…

Upon her speaking her wonder aloud on that part of the subject, before the few who knew her opinion of Mrs. Elton, Mrs. Weston ventured this apology for Jane.

“We cannot suppose that she has any great enjoyment at the Vicarage, my dear Emma—but it is better than being always at home. Her aunt is a good creature, but, as a constant companion, must be very tiresome. We must consider what Miss Fairfax quits, before we condemn her taste for what she goes to.”

“You are right, Mrs. Weston,” said Mr. Knightley warmly, “Miss Fairfax is as capable as any of us of forming a just opinion of Mrs. Elton. Could she have chosen with whom to associate, she would not have chosen her. But (with a reproachful smile at Emma) she receives attentions from Mrs. Elton, which nobody else pays her.”

Emma felt that Mrs. Weston was giving her a momentary glance; and she was herself struck by his warmth.

With a faint blush, she presently replied, “Such attentions as Mrs. Elton’s, I should have imagined, would rather disgust than gratify Miss Fairfax. Mrs. Elton’s invitations I should have imagined any thing but inviting.”

“I should not wonder,” said Mrs. Weston, “if Miss Fairfax were to have been drawn on beyond her own inclination, by her aunt’s eagerness in accepting Mrs. Elton’s civilities for her. Poor Miss Bates may very likely have committed her niece and hurried her into a greater appearance of intimacy than her own good sense would have dictated, in spite of the very natural wish of a little change.”

Both felt rather anxious to hear him speak again; and after a few minutes silence, he said, “Another thing must be taken into consideration too—Mrs. Elton does not talk to Miss Fairfax as she speaks of her. We all know the difference between the pronouns he or she and thou, the plainest spoken amongst us; we all feel the influence of a something beyond common civility in our personal intercourse with each other—a something more early implanted. We cannot give any body the disagreeable hints that we may have been very full of the hour before. We feel things differently. And besides the operation of this, as a general principle, you may be sure that Miss Fairfax awes Mrs. Elton by her superiority both of mind and manner; and that, face to face, Mrs. Elton treats her with all the respect which she has a claim to. Such a woman as Jane Fairfax probably never fell in Mrs. Elton’s way before—and no degree of vanity can prevent her acknowledging her own comparative littleness in action, if not in consciousness.”

…

“…Cole does not want to be wiser or wittier than his neighbours.”

“In that respect how unlike dear Mrs. Elton, who wants to be wiser and wittier than all the world! I wonder how she speaks of the Coles—what she calls them! How can she find any appellation for them, deep enough in familiar vulgarity? She calls you, Knightley—what can she do for Mr. Cole? And so I am not to be surprized that Jane Fairfax accepts her civilities and consents to be with her. Mrs. Weston, your argument weighs most with me. I can much more readily enter into the temptation of getting away from Miss Bates, than I can believe in the triumph of Miss Fairfax’s mind over Mrs. Elton. I have no faith in Mrs. Elton’s acknowledging herself the inferior in thought, word, or deed; or in her being under any restraint beyond her own scanty rule of good-breeding. I cannot imagine that she will not be continually insulting her visitor with praise, encouragement, and offers of service; that she will not be continually detailing her magnificent intentions, from the procuring her a permanent situation to the including her in those delightful exploring parties which are to take place in the barouche-landau.”

“Jane Fairfax has feeling,” said Mr. Knightley—”I do not accuse her of want of feeling. Her sensibilities, I suspect, are strong—and her temper excellent in its power of forbearance, patience, self-control; but it wants openness. She is reserved, more reserved, I think, than she used to be…”

—“EMMA,” CH 33/(VOL II – CH15)

So, to recap: Mrs. Weston is right on both points and Mr. Knightley gets one right and one wrong.

Which means we need to break down Mr. Knightley’s score:

Right:

“Could she have chosen with whom to associate, she would not have chosen her. But (with a reproachful smile at Emma) she receives attentions from Mrs. Elton, which nobody else pays her.”

• True.

Wrong:

“Mrs. Elton does not talk to Miss Fairfax as she speaks of her. We all know the difference between the pronouns he or she and thou…”

• Nope. Mrs. Elton treats Miss Fairfax as an inferior in all circumstances, calling her “Jane” right to her face.
  

POST: What mr. Knightley got wrong – “Jane, Jane! What’s in a name? Mrs. Elton’s most unpardonable sin.“

I’ll have to show a little proof to move on, won’t I?

As for the rest, these aren’t opinions of mine. It’s all directly in the text. And I will get to laying it out, but not first, and because of that some of you will need a good faith showing of Jane trying to escape Miss Bates.

(Of course she is! It’s not personal, but it’s a teeny house and Miss Bates never stops talking. Jane cannot hear her own thoughts. And when anyone else is around Miss Bates mortifies Jane in every way and talks about her like she’s not even there. I know that’s not evidence, but I had to express it emotionally first.)

Okay, one quick and early point of evidence for the road, then I’ll go into that bit more later after we’ve laid some foundational track.

In the first live scene with Jane we see that she’s already desperate to escape her grandmother’s cubby hole:

“There is my news:—I thought it would interest you,” said Mr. Knightley, with a smile which implied a conviction of some part of what had passed between them.

“But where could you hear it?” cried Miss Bates. “Where could you possibly hear it, Mr. Knightley? For it is not five minutes since I received Mrs. Cole’s note—no, it cannot be more than five—or at least ten—for I had got my bonnet and spencer on, just ready to come out—I was only gone down to speak to Patty again about the pork—Jane was standing in the passage—were not you, Jane?—for my mother was so afraid that we had not any salting-pan large enough. So I said I would go down and see, and Jane said, ‘Shall I go down instead? for I think you have a little cold, and Patty has been washing the kitchen.’—‘Oh! my dear,’ said I—well, and just then came the note. A Miss Hawkins—that’s all I know. A Miss Hawkins of Bath. But, Mr. Knightley, how could you possibly have heard it? for the very moment Mr. Cole told Mrs. Cole of it, she sat down and wrote to me. A Miss Hawkins—”

Okay, I’ve gotten started. The windup is done.

Rules of address next…

“To be sure we do,” cried his father; “Mrs. Bates—we passed her house—I saw Miss Bates at the window. True, true, you are acquainted with Miss Fairfax…”

— “Emma,” Chapter 23/VOL II-CH V (Miss Bates is a blind!)