Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Book 204

Emma, by Jane Austen

I first discovered Emma by Jane Austen when I was nineteen.  I had a sharp and ready wit, and I could turn a clever phrase.  Just like Emma.  I thought I was observant and discerning.  Just like Emma.  I wasn't.  Just like Emma.  Back then, I thought the humor in this book came from what Emma said.  Now that I am many years away from nineteen, I realize that much of the humor comes from Emma's misunderstandings. 

I am a huge Jane Austen fan -- not so much that I dress up in costume or anything (except for one Hallowe'en, but then I was a dead Jane Austen, so that's OK) -- I will read anything she writes.  In fact, I will study anything she writes, and read anything about her.  She, unlike Emma, is very observant.  She is brilliant at delineating characters and breathing life into them.  I recently re-read Pride and Prejudice.  I thought I was in love with Mr. Darcy.  Now I remember that it has been Mr. Knightley all along.

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