Tag: Jane Austen

Emma (2009) vs. Emma (2020)

by hkatz, posted in Writing

It’s interesting how the same novel can give rise to multiple screen adaptations that are strikingly different in tone and their approach to the characters. Neither of them is really like the novel either, because you’re not going to capture the experience of reading Austen in a screen adaptation.

Overall, I prefer the 2009 Emma, but there were things I liked about the 2020 one too. I haven’t watched either of them recently, so I’m working from memory here.

In both versions, Emma is conscious of her social rank and needs to become more mature, considerate, and perceptive. The 2009 version brings out something a little vulnerable and lost in her, connected to the fact that she’s led a sheltered life and seen little of the world; also, the acting is more informal in that one, so her mannerisms come across as younger and even childish sometimes. In the 2020 one, she’s steelier and more sophisticated (even though her readings of social situations can be wildly inaccurate, which is part of the humor).

The 2009 version has beautiful pastoral imagery, and the interiors are both grand and soft; they have an earthy palette, lovely furnishings, and a lived-in feel. The 2020 version takes grandeur to another level. The interiors look pristine and lavish. Emma and the other characters are like dolls in a bejeweled dollhouse. This also fits the sense of Emma living in a bubble; nothing exists in the world outside of the dollhouse. (There are similar differences in the outfits – the 2009 adaptation gives Emma some lovely gowns, but the 2020 one takes the fashion to a whole other level.)

The 2020 one plays up the social comedy more, especially with the introduction of the quiet, long-suffering servants who try to iron out every inconvenience in the lives of the wealthy people having fits of drama around them. (The servants’ facial expressions subtly reveal what they dare not say.) 

As for Knightley… overall, I prefer the 2009 one (Jonny Lee Miller), but Johnny Flynn was also good in the 2020 adaptation. I think each Knightley is a good Knightley for the adaptation he’s in.

The 2009 Emma is a mini-series, which makes it feel more expansive and gives the scenes more breathing room. The 2020 one is a regular movie, more constrained in time with a faster pace, and so the humor also has a more staccato feel.

Watching different Austen adaptations is an interesting way to study filmmakers’ choices. What do they try to emphasize from the books? How do they try to communicate a different social world to a modern audience, or bring out a novel’s humor (which in some scenes comes down to a turn of phrase or an ironic tone)? If you’ve watched either of these, share your own opinions on what worked for you.

In defense of the ordinary (responding to a comparison of Elizabeth Bennet and Jane Eyre)

by hkatz, posted in Readings

I was recently talking to a friend about books, and she said that Jane Eyre (of Charlotte Bronte’s novel) has a much stronger character and more interesting story than Elizabeth Bennet (of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice). What’s the point of reading about Elizabeth Bennet, when you can read about Jane Eyre?

It’s true that Jane Eyre overcomes more difficulties than Elizabeth Bennet. But why even compare these two characters? I’m not sure.

They come from very different novels. Different in tone, style, subject matter, scope, time period, and authorial intention. Elizabeth isn’t meant to be like Jane Eyre.

Elizabeth has ordinary imperfections and leads an ordinary life for a woman of her social class. That’s part of what makes her story interesting.

Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Collins from the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice.

One of the reasons I appreciate Jane Austen’s writing is because she understood that the ordinary can make a huge difference. The commonplace decisions you make and small-scale dilemmas you face are part of the moral fabric of your life.

Austen understood the power of a remark spoken in a thoughtless or bad-tempered way – how much it can hurt someone, damage a relationship, or project a bad impression of yourself. She understood what can happen when you fail to put your pride aside, when you give unhelpful advice, or when you form an impression of someone’s character too quickly and in a limited context.

Something small-scale can still produce a good deal of misery. Or it can bring joy to people, if you behave with integrity and with consideration for them.

Austen’s novels do have some heightened drama as well – like Wickham running off with Lydia. But even the more dramatic incidents stem from so-called small or ordinary decisions.

For example, Lydia gets into the sort of trouble she’s in partly because of her parents’ carelessness in letting her travel when she’s clearly not mature and well-behaved. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet aren’t abusive parents. They aren’t extreme in their behavior. They’re silly (Mrs. Bennet) and largely uninvolved (Mr. Bennet). These milder weaknesses in character still have a huge impact on Lydia’s life, and the lives of all the Bennet sisters.

Similarly, when Austen explores marriage compatibility, she doesn’t focus on the more extreme cases of terrible marriages (like when a wife is locked in an attic). She presents more commonplace problems, like when a spouse is consistently selfish, coldly overbearing, or gratingly pompous (so they’re monologuing at the table while you try not to carve out your ear drums with a dessert spoon). Or maybe your spouse is more shallow than you or shares few of your values, to the extent that you can barely have a conversation with them or see eye-to-eye on anything.

Most people aren’t going to face the kind of dramatic decisions that Jane Eyre needs to make. And even if they do, most of their lives will still be made of more ordinary but still meaningful moments.

A lack of appreciation for the ordinary can lead to callousness. For instance, there are people who say they love humanity and want to aid humanity – but they’re rude to their waiter, unfair to their employees, dismissive of their friends, and indifferent to their spouse and kids.

I’m not writing this post to criticize people’s feelings about fictional characters. It’s fine to have a preference for different kinds of novels, or to love more than one kind of fictional character. You don’t have to read and enjoy Austen. As for Charlotte Bronte’s works, I prefer Villette (largely because of how she wrote the first-person narration). In any case, I think Austen’s understanding of human nature in more ordinary contexts is one of reasons her books are enjoyable and valuable.

(The image is from the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. On the left is Elizabeth Bennet, played by Jennifer Ehle. On the right, the inimitable Mr. Collins, played by David Bamber.)