Austen 250 Reader Series: Emma (Chapters 1-9)
- Maizie Ferguson
- Jul 5
- 11 min read
Updated: Jul 29
Welcome, dearest Janeites, to the Austen 250 Reader Series––our most esteemed celebratory blog series for this 250th anniversary year––and the first week of our Emma content, in which we shall ambitiously cover the first nine chapters. The novel is a gem of vicious satire, a lens into human character à la literary analysis, and thus solicits no introduction. Without further ado... let us begin!
Good tales often end with a wedding, but as it turns out, Emma begins with one. The bride is not our eponymous heroine... oh, no... but I shan't get ahead of myself...
Even before Miss Taylor had ceased to hold the nominal office of governess, the mildness of her temper had hardly allowed her to impose any restraint; and the shadow of authority being now long passed away, they had been living together as friend and friend very mutually attached, and Emma doing just what she liked; highly esteeming Miss Taylor’s judgment, but directed chiefly by her own.
The real evils, indeed, of Emma’s situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. (Ch. 1)
In the first chapter, readers are introduced to Emma Woodhouse and her father, as well as to Emma's more-sister-than-governess Miss Taylor and the imminent event of her nuptials to a kind widower, Mr. Weston. The Woodhouses are presented as characters, with persnickety individual dispositions, but also in their offices as unofficial heads of the village of Highbury.
At tea, Mr. Woodhouse and Emma converse on the topic of the wedding, which the reader is told happened earlier that morning. A neighboring gentleman and longtime family friend, Mr. Knightley, arrives and the three converse on a number of topics. The reader is told that Mr. Knightley is one of the few people to recognize faults in Emma and is the only person to ever call her on the aforementioned faults. Mr. Woodhouse thinks––like many––that Emma is perfect. Naturally, the topic shifts, with Emma professing she made the match between her governess and Mr. Weston herself. Mr. Knightley is less than impressed. This is also a topic of tension between father and daughter––passively––and Mr. Woodhouse urges Emma not to make any more matches. Emma promises that she is safe from her own prophetic powers of coordinating love, but one more match is in store: for the town’s young vicar, Mr. Elton...
"Success supposes endeavour. Your time has been properly and delicately spent, if you have been endeavouring for the last four years to bring about this marriage. A worthy employment for a young lady’s mind! But if, which I rather imagine, your making the match, as you call it, means only your planning it, your saying to yourself one idle day, ‘I think it would be a very good thing for Miss Taylor if Mr. Weston were to marry her,’ and saying it again to yourself every now and then afterwards, why do you talk of success? Where is your merit? What are you proud of? You made a lucky guess; and that is all that can be said." (Ch. 1)
The following chapter includes a detailed history of the life of Mr. Weston, including details of his first marriage, as well as the introduction of his son, Frank, and the motherless boy's subsequent adoption at a young age by his Aunt and Uncle Churchill. Frank is looked upon as belonging to Highbury––in some respects––although he has never once visited.
The chapter is written in complete third person narration with no active dialogue, although there are two instances of quotes. The first gives cause for speculation that Frank Churchill is due in Highbury any day, as Mrs. Weston's receipt of Frank’s "handsome" letter is widely discussed. Emma and Mrs. Weston meet regularly, yet in spite of this fact, Mr. Woodhouse still pities "poor Miss Taylor", regularly bemoaning her absence. The passing of a few weeks brings more peace, as the well-wishes stop being said and the wedding cake is finished. It also stands to mention that in this second chapter the character of Perry––the village doctor and a very frequent visitor to Hartfield, at Mr. Woodhouse's special request––is introduced.
He had been at the pains of consulting Mr. Perry, the apothecary, on the subject. Mr. Perry was an intelligent, gentlemanlike man, whose frequent visits were one of the comforts of Mr. Woodhouse’s life; and upon being applied to, he could not but acknowledge (though it seemed rather against the bias of inclination) that wedding-cake might certainly disagree with many—perhaps with most people, unless taken moderately. With such an opinion, in confirmation of his own, Mr. Woodhouse hoped to influence every visitor of the newly married pair; but still the cake was eaten; and there was no rest for his benevolent nerves till it was all gone. (Ch. 2)
The story continues, detailing those with whom Mr. Woodhouse liked to dine, being the particular man that he is. After the Westons, Mr. Knightley, and Mr. Elton come three women of lower social standing from the village: Miss Bates and her aging mother, Mrs. Bates, and Mrs. Goddard. Each character's life and disposition is shared––a bit of a clue into why Emma does not enjoy the company of these acquaintances half as well as the first three. But as her father enjoys evenings spent with all, Emma obliges herself to enjoy them.
One day, Mrs. Goddard asks if she could bring one of her parlour-boarders, a Miss Smith of seventeen, to Hartfield. Emma has long admired her and is delighted at the chance to finally make her acquaintance. Upon meeting her, Emma decides Harriet––who is sweet but little more, in addition to having unknown parentage––is above her company at Mrs. Goddard’s boarding school, must be the daughter of a gentleman, and must be improved by the good influence and encouragement of Emma herself. Harriet has just returned from a stay with her friends in the country, the Martins, a family of tenant farmers who rent their farm from Mr. Knightley; Emma decides that the Martins, especially Robert, of whom Harriet speaks highly, are too low for her new protégé. Harriet meanwhile, is starstruck, unaware of Emma's high hopes and elaborate schemes to elevate her.
She was not struck by any thing remarkably clever in Miss Smith’s conversation, but she found her altogether very engaging—not inconveniently shy, not unwilling to talk—and yet so far from pushing, shewing so proper and becoming a deference, seeming so pleasantly grateful for being admitted to Hartfield, and so artlessly impressed by the appearance of every thing in so superior a style to what she had been used to, that she must have good sense, and deserve encouragement. (Ch. 3)
Harriet often discusses the Martins and Emma begins to feel great concern that the son, Robert Martin, and Harriet could end up not only mutually attached, but married. As the Martins––in Emma's view––are not proper company, she plans to separate Harriet as much as possible. However, by chance one day, the girls meet Robert Martin while out walking.
Emma expresses her disdain for Mr. Martin after Harriet asks her friend's opinion of him, and it is obvious that the impressionable Harriet feels torn between what her heart tells her and what Miss Woodhouse tells her. After asking Harriet to compare Mr. Martin to all the other gentleman she has met through mingling in Hartfield society, everything becomes suddenly apparent to the reader. Emma already has a man in mind for Harriet––the vicar, Mr. Elton.
They met Mr. Martin the very next day, as they were walking on the Donwell road. He was on foot, and after looking very respectfully at her, looked with most unfeigned satisfaction at her companion. Emma was not sorry to have such an opportunity of survey; and walking a few yards forward, while they talked together, soon made her quick eye sufficiently acquainted with Mr. Robert Martin. [...] They remained but a few minutes together, as Miss Woodhouse must not be kept waiting; and Harriet then came running to her with a smiling face, and in a flutter of spirits, which Miss Woodhouse hoped very soon to compose. (Ch. 4)
Mr. Knightley visits the Westons one day; he and Mrs. Weston discuss Emma’s relationship to Harriet and expound on their differing views on the subject. Mr. Knightley believes ill will come of it, with Harriet being far too young and malleable to contend with Emma's charms and persuasions. Mrs. Weston, conversely, is delighted that Emma has formed such a close friendship with Harriet, as she knows first-hand the importance of the bond of friendship. At last, dear Emma's future is called into consideration. It would do Emma good, Mr. Knightley believes, to find herself in love but "in doubt of a return", although it is agreed upon that the idea seems far-fetched for myriad of reasons. Emma is very happily her own mistress at Hartfield and her removal from the house would greatly upset her fastidious father.
Emma has been meaning to read more ever since she was twelve years old. I have seen a great many lists of her drawing up at various times of books that she meant to read regularly through—and very good lists they were—very well chosen, and very neatly arranged—sometimes alphabetically, and sometimes by some other rule. [...] But I have done with expecting any course of steady reading from Emma. She will never submit to any thing requiring industry and patience, and a subjection of the fancy to the understanding. (Ch. 5)
During a visit to Hartfield, Mr. Elton can only wax poetic on how Harriet has flourished and improved since her friendship with Emma was established. Emma, pleased by what appears to be high compliments of attention to Harriet herself... perhaps... early romantic pursuit... suggests that she take Harriet's likeness. Mr. Elton wastes no time to heartily agree with her.
Mr. Elton was only too happy. Harriet listened, and Emma drew in peace. She must allow him to be still frequently coming to look; any thing less would certainly have been too little in a lover; and he was ready at the smallest intermission of the pencil, to jump up and see the progress, and be charmed.—There was no being displeased with such an encourager, for his admiration made him discern a likeness almost before it was possible. She could not respect his eye, but his love and his complaisance were unexceptionable. (Ch. 6)
Then a day comes when Harriet bursts in upon Emma with a letter, a proposal of marriage, from Robert Martin in hand. What follows is––I might venture to suggest––one of Austen's most brilliant passages. The scene is beautifully choreographed in omniscient third person, with Austen's characteristic vivid prose and even what seem like stage directions backing up an utterly human, realistic conversation, complete with manipulation and its cringe-worthy moments. (Does anyone else flinch and grimace through this chapter?) Emma, under an alluring pretense of neutrality, suggests that doubt or uncertainty should equate to a refusal and upon hearing Harriet's haltering question "you think I ought to refuse him then", quips back a sharp, oh-so-subtle response. When the matter seems settled, Emma then proceeds to advise her friend on the exact wording of the refusal letter, practically writing it herself.
“You think I ought to refuse him then,” said Harriet, looking down.
“Ought to refuse him! My dear Harriet, what do you mean? Are you in any doubt as to that? I thought—but I beg your pardon, perhaps I have been under a mistake. I certainly have been misunderstanding you, if you feel in doubt as to the purport of your answer. I had imagined you were consulting me only as to the wording of it.”
(Ch. 7)
Not too long after, Mr. Knightley visits Hartfield and mentions to Emma that Mr. Martin, being one of his tenants, had asked his advice on a matter of the heart. This matter turns out to be the very proposal that Emma––er, Harriet––had turned down. Mr. Knightley, who was all for the union and fully anticipated its confirmation, is maddened and shocked to hear of what transpired. A quarrel begins. He is quick to point out every detail that went unconsidered or ignored when Emma forced her friend's hand, trying to make it clear that Harriet is not a puppet. In fact, due to her uncertain birth and lack of concrete values aside from a pleasing face and manner, a marriage to Mr. Martin would be safe and advantageous, not to mention pleasant if the two parties were in love, as they appeared to be.
“Not Harriet’s equal!” exclaimed Mr. Knightley loudly and warmly; and with calmer asperity, added, a few moments afterwards, “No, he is not her equal indeed, for he is as much her superior in sense as in situation. Emma, your infatuation about that girl blinds you. What are Harriet Smith’s claims, either of birth, nature or education, to any connexion higher than Robert Martin? She is the natural daughter of nobody knows whom, with probably no settled provision at all, and certainly no respectable relations. She is known only as parlour-boarder at a common school. She is not a sensible girl, nor a girl of any information. She has been taught nothing useful, and is too young and too simple to have acquired any thing herself. At her age she can have no experience, and with her little wit, is not very likely ever to have any that can avail her. She is pretty, and she is good tempered, and that is all. (Ch. 8)
All her life, Harriet has spent her time with the other parlour-borders, Mrs. Goddard, and the matron's realm of society, an inferior lot by Emma's high standards. This comfortably-middle-class social circle was all Harriet knew and all she desired to know until Miss Woodhouse set eyes on her and was certain Harriet was meant to live the life of a gentleman's daughter. Mr. Knightley shares that he knows exactly who Emma has in mind for her apprentice and hints that there is a side of Mr. Elton that is conceited and vain, that he would never be satisfied in life without a prosperous match. Soon, Mr. Elton himself returns from his important errand to London, with Emma’s portrait of Harriet now elaborately framed.
The Picture, elegantly framed, came safely to hand soon after Mr. Elton’s return, and being hung over the mantelpiece of the common sitting-room, he got up to look at it, and sighed out his half sentences of admiration just as he ought; and as for Harriet’s feelings, they were visibly forming themselves into as strong and steady an attachment as her youth and sort of mind admitted. (Ch. 9)
As part of Emma's improvement regimen for Harriet, the two girls collect puzzles, charades, riddles, and anagrams, writing them all down in a book. Emma asks Mr. Elton to concoct a word charade, and when the vicar delivers the portrait to Hartfield, he leaves the charade, as well. Emma tries to prompt Miss Smith through the puzzle's deciphering, but loses patience with Harriet's less-than-quick ideas and eventually solves it on her behalf. Miss Woodhouse reads each word––truly, each line––as written for Harriet, her prior expectations finding in each revealed meaning a disguised declaration of love. Very sure of her hypothesis, Emma tells a giddy Harriet thus. Oh, yes, and the answer to the charade? Court Ship... courtship...
To Miss——
CHARADE.
My first displays the wealth and pomp of kings,
Lords of the earth! their luxury and ease.
Another view of man, my second brings,
Behold him there, the monarch of the seas!
But ah! united, what reverse we have!
Man’s boasted power and freedom, all are flown;
Lord of the earth and sea, he bends a slave,
And woman, lovely woman, reigns alone.
Thy ready wit the word will soon supply,
May its approval beam in that soft eye!
(Ch. 9)
The suspense! I can hardly bear it already! At that, we must end the first portion of Emma. Stay tuned for the next installment of Chapters 10-18, released in two weeks, Friday, July 18. A reading guide can be found here. Now, I beseech you, please share your thoughts in the comments below. I would love to hear anything and everything, dear readers!
If you enjoy our content, please consider donating. Your donations support the Jane Austen Summer Program, Jane Austen & Co., Jane Austen for Teachers, and Jane Austen's Desk. Contributing to this fund will help us keep our costs and the ticket prices for the Jane Austen Summer Program (JASP) as low as possible. It will also help ensure that JASP continues to exist in future years.
What a delightful recap! I'll look forward to reading the rest of this series. :)