In
followup to my posts the other day about Jane Austen’s punning on variants of
the word “common” in P&P with respect to social class, I was just browsing
in Emma, which perhaps is the Austen
novel most pervasively concerned with matters of social class – mainly because Emma
is, far and away, the Austen heroine most obsessed with such matters, and in
the snobbiest way imaginable! I figured there has to be some revisiting of that
punning somewhere in Emma, and as you’ll
see, below, there is.
My eye
was quickly caught by the following passage in Chapter 3:
“Mrs.
Bates, the widow of a former vicar of Highbury, was a very old lady, almost
past every thing but tea and quadrille. She lived with her single daughter in a
very small way, and was considered with all the regard and respect which a
harmless old lady, under such untoward circumstances, can excite. Her daughter
enjoyed A MOST UNCOMMON DEGREE OF POPULARITY for a woman neither young,
handsome, rich, nor married.”
While the surface meaning of “uncommon” as “unusual”
is perfectly intelligible, I also detect that alternative, punny meaning of
“uncommon” as “not a commoner” as having been intended by JA. Here we have JA
setting Miss Bates (whom JA doesn’t even name beyond “her single daughter”, so
as to subtly emphasize her being “nobody”, in Emma’s terminology) in the
context of her social world. So this is precisely where a pun on status would
be most appropriate and telling.
The whiff of royalty in that punning “most uncommon”
also reminded me of Princess Caroline, who was very popular among the English people
despite her all-too-public missteps, and I believe JA meant for the unfortunate
Princess to come to mind for her contemporary readers as well, when reading
those introductory words about Miss Bates. This is especially so, given (as I
wrote not long ago) that JA, later in the novel, covertly, but unmistakably,
alludes to Princess Caroline and her open letter to her husband the Prince
Regent strenuously objecting to being denied parental access to her own
daughter, Princess Charlotte.
I went on searching in Emma for further punning on “common” vis a vis Miss Bates, and look
what I found next, in this noblesse
oblige passage in Chapter 21:
“Emma saw [Knightley’s] anxiety, and
wishing to appease it, at least for the present, said, and with a sincerity
which no one could question—"[Jane] is a sort of elegant creature that one
cannot keep one's eyes from. I am always watching her to admire; and I do pity
her from my heart."
Mr. Knightley looked as if he were
more gratified than he cared to express; and before he could make any reply,
Mr. Woodhouse, whose thoughts were on the Bates's, said—"It is a great
pity that their circumstances should be so confined! a great pity indeed! and I
have often wished—but it is so little one can venture to do—small, trifling
presents, of ANY THING UNCOMMON—Now we have killed a porker, and Emma thinks of
sending them a loin or a leg…”
This passage is all about the
condescension of the (self-styled) great to the little people, and so it is a
wry irony indeed for Mr. Woodhouse to refer to his own hypocritical self
congratulation via the word “uncommon”!
Based
on those two examples, we cannot be surprised to find a third at the very end
of the Box Hill episode in Chapter 43, as Emma reflects on her own behavior:
“She
felt it at her heart. How could she have been so brutal, so cruel to Miss
Bates! How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in any one she
valued! And how suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude,
of concurrence, OF COMMON KINDNESS!”
But
then, two chapters later, “common” pops up again in the context of Emma’s
attempts to repair the classist damage she caused at Box Hill:
“…Dear Emma has been to call on Mrs.
and Miss Bates, Mr. Knightley, as I told you before. She is always so attentive
to them!"
Emma's colour was heightened by this
unjust praise; and with a smile, and shake of the head, which spoke much, she
looked at Mr. Knightley.—It seemed as if there were an instantaneous impression
in her favour, as if his eyes received the truth from hers, and all that had
passed of good in her feelings were at once caught and honoured.--He looked at
her with a glow of regard. She was warmly gratified—and in another moment still
more so, by a little movement of more than COMMON FRIENDLINESS on his part.—He
took her hand…”
In Chapter 52, we read one of Miss
Bates’s shorter effusions, which includes the word “commonly”:
"Thank
you, dear Miss Woodhouse, you are all kindness.—It is impossible to say—Yes,
indeed, I quite understand—dearest Jane's prospects—that is, I do not mean.—But
she is charmingly recovered.—How is Mr. Woodhouse?—I am so glad.—Quite out of
my power.—Such a happy little circle as you find us here.—Yes, indeed.—Charming
young man!—that is—so very friendly; I mean good Mr. Perry!—such attention to
Jane!"—And from her great, her MORE THAN COMMONLY THANKFUL DELIGHT towards
Mrs. Elton for being there, Emma guessed that there had been a little show of
resentment towards Jane, from the vicarage quarter, which was now graciously
overcome.”
It’s very interesting to see the
phrase “more than commonly” used to describe the thankfulness expressed by Miss
Bates to Mrs. Elton for visiting. Emma guesses that this is Miss Bates’s
response to some prior expression of resentment not witnessed by Emma, arising
from Jane’s ultimate rejection of Mrs. Elton’s endless parade of noblesse oblige, in seeking to strand
Jane in a governessing position. Once more the word “common” has been used with
respect to Miss Bates in a context saturated with interclass relations.
And
finally, in Chapter 54, we get an echo of Darcy’s and Eliza’s “uncommon” repartee
at the Netherfield Ball (which I wrote about the other day), when Frank speaks
to Emma about his now unconcealed fiancée Jane:
“…Emma was delighted, and only
wanted him to go on in the same style; but [Frank’s] mind was the next moment
in his own concerns and with his own Jane, and his next words were, "Did
you ever see such a skin?—such smoothness! such delicacy!—and yet without being
actually fair.—One cannot call her fair. It is A MOST UNCOMMON COMPLEXION, with
her dark eye-lashes and hair—A MOST DISTINGUISHING COMPLEXION! SO PECULIARLY
THE LADY IN IT.—Just colour enough for beauty."
“So
peculiarly the lady in it”--- the pun on class in “uncommon” is in this final
iteration in Emma subtly but clearly
foregrounded by Frank explicitly suggesting that Jane’s delicate beauty gives
her a free pass into the higher class. The arc begun with emphasis on the lowness
of Miss Bates has now been turned topsy turvy, as her beloved niece is now not
only “nobody” anymore, but is expected to shortly become the great lady of
Enscombe, taking the place recently occupied by Frank’s imperious aunt – so in
that sense, we may expect Miss Bates to join her niece at Enscombe, whereupon
we may channel Mr. Weston and say that Miss Bates will regain and even outstrip
her long-lost social elevation, and thereby out-Churchill the late great Mrs. Churchill! ;)
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
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