Mark
Sundaram’s explanation of one etymology of the word “coachman”---as early 19th century Oxford
slang for a university professor---turns out to be the gift that keeps on
giving, when it comes to my decoding of Jane Austen’s masterful deployment of
that slang usage in Emma. In the
second of my two previous posts on that topic earlier today, I demonstrated
that James, Mr. Woodhouse’s coachman, was a leading expert in the avoidance of the
perils of walking and driving through accumulations of poop on the streets and
roads in and around Highbury. Today, I went back to Emma and my posts from 2013 about all that poop in Highbury, and I found,
in Chapter 15, a whole new layer (sorry, I can’t resist that metaphor in this
context) of comic scatological meaning.
In
one of my 2013 posts, I had written the following:
“…in
Chapter 15, we have Isabella being surprisingly pragmatic and flexible about
doing whatever it takes to get back to Hartfield from Randalls as the snow
begins to fall:
"You
had better order the carriage directly, my love," said [Isabella]; "I
dare say we shall be able to get along, if we set off directly; and if we do
come to any thing very bad, I can get out and walk. I am not at all afraid. I
should not mind walking half the way. I could
change my shoes, you know, the moment I got home; and it is not the sort of
thing that gives me cold."
Sure
it could be snow that would make it desirable to take off her shoes as soon as
she got home, but I wonder whether it might be a very unpleasant cocktail of
snow and horse poop that would be trebly nasty to get on one’s shoes!”
I.e.,
I had realized a year and a half ago that Isabella Knightley was discreetly
referring to poop in her comments to her husband John, but I took Isabella
literally. However, what I only realized this evening was that Isabella did not
make these comments in a vacuum, out of the blue. Instead, their full meaning
only becomes clear when you read them in full context in Chapter 15. Here is
the full relevant passage, and I suggest to you that Isabella is actually
chiming in on her husband John’s deliberate and angry attack on Mr. Woodhouse’s
Achilles heel, being the old man’s persistent paranoid fear of getting stuck in
street poop:
“Mr.
John Knightley now came into the room from examining the weather, and opened on
them all with the information of the ground being covered with snow, and of its
still snowing fast, with a strong drifting wind; concluding with these words to
Mr. Woodhouse: "This will prove a
spirited beginning of your winter engagements, sir. Something NEW for your
COACHMAN and horses to be making their way through a storm of SNOW."
Jane
Austen’s irony is razor-sharp in that second sentence spoken by John to his
father in law. What does John mean by “something NEW”? I say that the negative
implication is that James the coachman and his horses are usually making their
way through a “storm” of POOP, but this night their obstacle will be something
new, i.e, they’ll be making their way through an accumulation of SNOW instead
of the usual everyday poop! And that’s why we should not be surprised to then
read Mr. Woodhouse’s worried reaction, followed shortly afterwards by John’s “pursuing
his triumph”:
“Poor
Mr. Woodhouse was silent from consternation; but every body else had something
to say; every body was either surprized or not surprized, and had some question
to ask, or some comfort to offer. Mrs. Weston and Emma tried earnestly to cheer
him and turn his attention from his son-in-law, who was pursuing his triumph
rather unfeelingly. "I admired your
resolution very much, sir," said he, "in venturing out in such
weather, for of course you saw there would be snow very soon. Every body must
have seen the snow coming on. I admired your spirit; and I dare say we shall
get home very well. Another hour or two's snow can hardly make the road
impassable; and we are two carriages; if one is blown over in the bleak part of
the common field there will be the other at hand. I dare say we shall be all
safe at Hartfield before midnight."
The
image of a carriage blown over by wind (with connotations of violent rear-end
flatulence) onto a pile of poop is grotesque scatology worthy of Laurence
Sterne!
And that’s when Isabella stands by her
husband, and adds to her father’s unease by raising the specter of something even
more horrifying to the old man, i.e., that she would then start walking on foot in the dark, without James’s expertise providing any guidance for
avoiding poopy shoes. Horrors!
But
then, the next act of this intense scatological mini-drama consists of Mr.
Knightley defusing Mr. Woodhouse’s scatological fears (just as he did in
Chapter 1 when he reassured him that his shoes were perfectly clean after
walking up to Highbury) as follows:
“Mr.
Knightley, who had left the room immediately after his brother's first report
of the snow, came back again, and told them that he had been out of doors to
examine, and could answer for there not being the smallest difficulty in their
getting home, whenever they liked it, either now or an hour hence. He had gone
beyond the sweep—some way along the Highbury road—the snow was nowhere above
half an inch deep—in many places hardly enough to whiten the ground; a very few
flakes were falling at present, but the clouds were parting, and there was
every appearance of its being soon over. He had seen the COACHMEN, and they B
OTH AGREED WITH HIM IN THERE BEING NOTHING TO APPREHEND.”
So,
once again, we have the absurdity of “the coachmen” as the acknowledged ultimate
experts on poop avoidance, agreeing (after Mr. Knightley instructed them
accordingly) that there is no risk of ground poop preventing safe and clean travel back to Highbury.
But
we’re not quite “home” yet. What follows next in Chapter 15 is Mr. Elton’s near-assault
on Emma in the carriage ride from Randalls---and that is the darkest part of JA’s
biting irony, which is that Mr. Woodhouse is so focused on the imaginary dangers
of poop, and meanwhile his own daughter is nearly raped by a drunken vicar
inside a warm and secure carriage!
And
then finally, we have the closing scene back at Highbury:
“…There
[Emma] was welcomed, with the utmost delight, by her father, who had been
trembling for the dangers of a solitary drive from Vicarage Lane—turning a
corner which he could never bear to think of—and in strange hands—A MERE COMMON
COACHMAN—no James; and there it seemed as if her return only were wanted to
make every thing go well: for Mr. John Knightley, ashamed of his ill-humour,
was now all kindness and attention…”
There
we have Mr. Woodhouse having been worried to death about the “strange hands” of
“a mere common coachmen” being
unqualified to avoid the dangers of poop on the drive from Vicarage Lane—and
we also see John Knightley, evidently satisfied with the success of his earlier
attack on Mr. Woodhouse, now gracious in victory and therefore merciful on his sad,
defeated foe.
It is
truly astonishing how much substance JA was able to pack into this elaborate
conceit which turns entirely on a single slang meaning.
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
on Twitter
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