Writing and Ruminating

Dare to Dream . . . Change the World

2011-11-01T23:41:00.001-04:00

As many of you already know, my poem, "A Place to Share", is going to be included in the forthcoming anthology from Kane Miller, edited by Jill Corcoran.

Today, Jill released the full line-up of the thirty participating poets, as well as confirming that the book is going to be illustrated by J Beth Jepson.

Can I tell you how lucky I feel to be part of that lineup?

A Vampire Pantoum for Halloween

2011-10-31T11:41:00.000-04:00

I ought to have told you a while back, but what with one thing and another, I kinda lost track of the fact that my poem, "A Vampire Pantoum", was published online at Blood Moon Rising Magazine back in June. (It got accepted last fall, and I kinda forgot all about it - oops!)

Today, I figured I'd share it with you here in honor of Halloween:

A Vampire Pantoum
by Kelly Ramsdell Fineman

Come with me
Midnight comes soon
Flying free
We soar beneath the moon

Midnight comes soon
The shadows shrink away
We soar beneath the moon
And over the bay

The shadows shrink away
The air is still
And over the bay
It’s time for us to kill

The air is still
But none can slow our pace
It’s time for us to kill
We leave without a trace

None can slow our pace
Flying free
We leave without a trace
Come with me

A word about the form: The pantoum is an evocative form that originates in Malaysia. It involves a lot of repetition, since each line will repeat once in the poem. A pantoum can have as many stanzas as one likes. Each stanza holds four lines. Lines two and four of stanza one become lines one and three of stanza two, lines two and four of stanza two become lines one and three of stanza three, and so on, until the final stanza, in which line three of the first stanza of the poem is line two of that final stanza, and line one of the poem is the fourth line, and therefore the final line of the poem.

It can sound a bit complicated, but it's exceedingly simple when seen in practice. I posted about the form once before, with a spectacular pantoum by poet Peter Oresick, from his book Warhol-O-Rama. Joyce Sidman is also a master at this form, with splendid pantoums in Butterfly Eyes and Other Secrets of the Meadow and This is Just to Say. She's posted a pantoum called "Spring is the Time" at her website, with instructions on how to write one, if you're so inclined.

To be read . . .

2011-10-26T23:43:00.000-04:00

I have a terrible confession to make: I haven't been reading all that many books lately, largely because life got busy (divorce, S moving to college in Charleston, M starting junior year in high school, etc.) and I ended up with a health issue (my rheumatoid arthritis flared).

But M has been busily reading things, and she assures me that I need to put these books on my TBR list:

The Name of the Star by Maureen Johnson. We bought it because (a) Maureen Johnson, (b) it's set in London and (c) Jack the Ripper. Also, there was a wee bit of (d) "cool cover!" going on. M has been a fan of Maureen's books since she read 13 Little Blue Envelopes, and she's a huge fan of the Scarlett books as well. M hasn't told me much about it, but she found it so riveting that she pretty much didn't put it down.

After Obsession by Carrie Jones and Steven E. Wedel. We bought it yesterday because (a) Carrie Jones is M's favorite author ever. (Take that, J.K. Rowling and others who are in the top tier of M's list of must-read authors!) Also, there was a bit of (b) "cool cover!" going on. M is a bit behind on her French homework because she was more interested in reading it than starting her homework before she headed off for her part-time job this evening. I suspect she'll finish it tomorrow, since she seems quite fond of it.

Lola and the Boy Next Door by Stephanie Perkins. We bought it because (a) OMG! we both loved Anna and the French Kiss with a love that was epic and true, which really amounts to (b) Stephanie Perkins. M tells me there's plenty of Anna and St. Clair in the book, and that makes me happyhappyhappy. She also tells me that things are painfully wrong before they are set right. Win!

I am positive that M is correct on all counts, and so all three books are going on my TBR pile. If I can, y'know, get them back from M at all . . .

Oh. Em. Gee.

2011-10-24T23:44:00.001-04:00

I believe I nearly had a medical situation just now. A heart attack, maybe, or something close to a swoon.

You see, while I was at B&N.com, I put my name into the browser - for giggles, really, as I sometimes do. Only this time, my book came up, cover and all. It's also listed over at Amazon now, only without the cover image.

SQUEE!!!

I did it!

2011-10-23T23:46:00.001-04:00

Today was the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer Walk in Pennsauken, NJ, and I can happily report that I walked the entire walk. My right knee in particular had something to say about it afterwards, but that's all okay because hey: I DID IT! I walked the entire 5K around the park. Nice and steady the whole way proved to be the answer.

I'm considering it a pretty major accomplishment, since I'm still not over my rheumatoid arthritis flare and my knees woke me up, shouting with pain (the knees, not me) at several points last night. And hey - I raised $530 for breast cancer research and treatment, and my team as a whole raised $1756! MAJOR thanks to those of you who donated on my behalf - you and I know who you are!

And now, it's time for a well-earned nap.

Troubled Water by Kelly Ramsdell Fineman

2011-10-21T12:17:00.001-04:00

If you saw yesterday's post, then you know there's been a call for sweaters to be knit for penguins following an oil spill off the coast of New Zealand. The sweaters keep the birds warm and also prevent them from preening (and thereby ingesting globs of oil) while they wait their turns to be cleaned up.

Here in the U.S., last year's oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico wreaked havoc on the environment, and still requires cleanup efforts. I was fortunate to have my poem, "Troubled Water", included in the anthology Breaking Waves: An Anthology for Gulf Coast Relief. In fact, it held pride of place as the final selection in the book - closing out an anthology that opened with a poem by Ursula Le Guin. I've been pleased to see the poem favorably mentioned in several reviews of the anthology, including this one by Helen Gallagher.

In light of the recent spill off New Zealand, I thought I'd share the poem here today. And in case you're wondering, the answer is "yes, you can still purchase a copy of the Breaking Waves e-book, which is available from Amazon in Kindle format, from Barnes & Noble for the Nook, and from the publisher, Book View Cafe for a mere $4.99 US. All proceeds go to Gulf Coast relief.

Troubled Water

by Kelly Ramsdell Fineman

"The first of the slick to reach the shores will not be the last."
Janet Ritz, The Environmentalist, 4/30/10

Long before St. Aidan's time,
ancient sailors cast their oil
on roiling seas to stay the waves.
No miracle, but science:
primitive, powerful as magic.

A modicum of oil could quell
a cresting swell, a thinning drop
enough to influence a distance
farther than the fingers
of its prismatic sheen.

Not more than a teaspoonful
calmed half-acre Clapham waves
for Benjamin Franklin, noted inventor,
Renaissance man. Reconnaissance now
cannot quantify the effect.

Two billion plus teaspoons of oil
gush daily into Gulf water,
quelling wildlife, not waves;
stopping sea life, not storms;
troubling water, industry, conscience.

Worried water – a geyser spews.
Gobbets of gull-coating crude expands in the sea.
Disturbed water – methane chokes oxygen.
Desperate dead zones nothing can survive.
Troubled water – upsetting the balance.

Economy and populace washed-out as wetlands,
unsteady as shifting beach sand.
St. Aidan's cruet will not quiet this squall;
St. Jude, he of desperate causes, waits offstage,
wringing his hands.

Knitters Wanted

2011-10-20T15:18:00.000-04:00

Dudes, how could I not pass along this Public Service Announcement once I knew about it? See, there was an oil spill off New Zealand, in a place where there are lots of penguins.

Specifically, baby penguins, who need warmth.

Specifically, they need sweaters. Or, if you prefer, jumpers.

You can read the entire call for action here at gothamist, complete with links to news articles, proof that the call for sweaters is real, and instructions on how to knit the sweaters/jumpers and where to send them.

For the rain, it raineth every day

2011-10-19T12:19:00.001-04:00

It occurred to me that we haven't spent a Wednesday with the Bard in a while. And I'd have to be a ninny not to have noticed the cold rain lashing against the windows today in my little corner of New Jersey. Every time it rains, (no - it does not rain "Pennies from Heaven") I think of one of my favorite of Shakespeare's songs, "The Rain It Raineth Every Day", from Twelfth Night. I especially love the version sung by Sir Ben Kingsley at the end of the excellent movie version starring Imogen Stubbs as Viola/Cesario and Helena Bonham Carter as Olivia, which is why I've included it here.

When that I was and a little tiny boy
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man's estate,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came, alas, to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came unto my beds,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
With toss-pots still 'had drunken heads,
For the rain it raineth every day.

A great while ago the world began,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day.

Discussion: The song is written using rhymed couplets in iambic tetrameter (four iambs per line: taDUM taDUM taDUM taDUM) interspersed with "With hey, ho, the wind and the rain" and "For the rain it raineth every day", which is changed at the end to be a more finite conclusion.

Like other poems or soliloquies from the plays, this song tracks the "ages of man" from little boy through adulthood to old age. It is performed by Feste, the "fool" in Twelfth Night. I will remind you that during Twelfth Night festivities, it's a topsy-turvy world (reference to Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame would not be entirely amiss here) where the lowest man might be king - and the fool might in fact be the wise man.

Did you know . . .

2011-10-15T14:42:00.002-04:00

. . . that if you use 2 tablespoons of baking soda instead of 2 teaspoons when making pumpkin bread, you'll end up with something that looks like

(a) The Blob?
(b) a science experiment?
(c) a burnt mess on the bottom of your oven?
(d) some really ugly bread that has a weird texture and a slightly fizzy mouthfeel?

The correct answer, by the way, is probably (e) all of the above.

I completely misread the recipe, as you've probably already guessed. I am thinking of making it into Pumpkin Bread Pudding. Because at this point, I figure "what the hell". And as a card I have on my inspiration board next to my desk so aptly puts it, "Ever notice how 'What the hell' is always the right answer?" (The quote has been attributed to Marilyn Monroe.)

At least the pumpkin pie, which I made from the other half of the 29-oz. can of pumpkin, came out right.

Blowin' in the Wind by Bob Dylan, illus. by Jon J Muth

2011-10-13T19:34:00.000-04:00

True story: I was born in the sixties, and my parents were . . . well, not exactly hippies, but let's say they weren't super far off. My dad opposed the war in Vietnam, as so many others did, and, um, may have mixed with radicals. As one does, I suppose, in uncertain times.

Anyhoo . . . it's no surprise that I knew all the lyrics to pretty much everything by Peter, Paul & Mary and, of course, "Blowin' in the Wind" by Bob Dylan, which got airplay, but also got plenty of play in sing-alongs involving campfires and/or candles, possibly incense, and men and women wearing kaftans. Look, if you were alive then, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If not, then picture something from Woodstock on a much smaller scale and you'll be close enough. I could sing along to "Blowin' in the Wind" since I knew all the words, even if I didn't really appreciate their meaning. I knew, however, that it was an anti-war song.

Flash forward to my teen years, when I learned to play guitar. One of the first songs I learned was "Blowin' in the Wind" - the chord changes were pretty easy, and hey, I already knew the tune and the words. The lyrics resonated differently then, since I could really take them in. There wasn't a major war raging at the time, but there had been talk during my senior year of the possibility of reinstituting the draft, and there was a lot of unpleasantness in the world; it was still the Cold War, and there were things afoot to do with Iran and Contras and the lyrics to the song pointed up the pointlessness of so much of it all. "How many deaths will it take till he knows that too many people have died?" Oh, the futility of it all.

Cut to the other day, when a copy of Blowin' in the Wind, a picture book forthcoming from Sterling Publishing in November of this year, arrived in my inbox. (Thank you, good folks of Sterling!) Sure, the words are the same as I've always known them to be, and I can listen to Dylan sing them on the CD that's lodged inside the front cover of the book - it's the original Bob Dylan recording, even. But this time, there's art that goes with it - and not just any art, but marvelous watercolors of Jon J. Muth, famous for Zen Shorts, The Three Questions, and his setting of Stone Soup.

The pictures provide a context and a narrative, as they ought to do in a good picture book. This one starts with one little boy holding a red ball, watching as a paper airplane flies by his window. It then moves to a pair of children with a red balloon, and eventually to a young girl with a guitar, each of whom have their own paper airplanes as well. After the end of the text comes "A Note from Artist Jon J Muth", in which he explains his own personal history with the song, and how he searched for a visual metaphor for young readers - an "answer" blowing in the wind. Says Muth:

The beauty of this song is that, while Dylan wrote it at a seminal moment, its sentiment is universal and timeless. just as each of the children in my illustrations has his or her own paper airplane, each of us knows what needs to be done in our worlds. The song speaks to a truth found in us all. When we approach life with an open and dedicated mind and heart, what do we experience? We learn that we are striving for the same things--love, honesty, justice. We find these are actions, not wishes or longings. Freedom and joy are not care-free. Escape from the burdens of life isn't freedom. Freedom is full of care for everything. That means we must be a part of what all people want for themselves and for humanity.

The doors of the heart will then be thrown open to wind from every direction. (Emphasis added.)

By the end of the book, all of the children we've seen end up playing together, thereby offering a hopeful counterpoint to the somewhat bleak lyrical ending of the book - that final question asking "how many deaths will it take till he knows that too many people have died?" In the foreground of that two-page spread is a pile of flags, draped over an obviously out-of-use cannon (there's a vine growing up it, and the red balloon has been tied to it), while the children play with the red ball a bit farther off. The final pages, when Dylan reminds us that "the answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind; the answer is blowin' in the wind" feature a fleet of paper airplanes being carried by the breeze, a lovely visual metaphor for what could happen if people worked in harmony.

At the very end of the book is an interesting addition - a note from Greil Marcus, a music historian, who explains what the world was like when Dylan wrote the song, and how the United States differed then from the way it is now (including, for example, the existence of segregation). Marcus continues by pointing out that the reason the song lives on (at least in his opinion) is because the questions it asks are Big Questions - "Why is the world the way it is? Why do we have war, cruelty, and hate? Will this ever change?" And because people who listen to the song can find themselves in there somewhere, or, as Marcus says "Yes. I am in that song. That song is about me, too." (Emphasis in original.)

I highly recommend this book for pretty much anyone and everyone, regardless of age, although that is based on my personal bias favoring the song and my massive appreciation for Muth's artwork. I must say, however, that it's a no-brainer as a potential gift for any Dylan fans you might know.

Making Strides Against Breast Cancer

2011-09-28T09:50:00.001-04:00

I'm going to be walking (or possibly limping - same difference) 5k on October 23rd as part of my tai chi club's team in the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk run by the American Cancer Society.

See, I started taking tai chi class, and folks who take tai chi at my gym are automatically part of the tai chi club - it's kinda like Facebook, where someone just puts you in a group, only without all the annoying Facebook stuff that sometimes follows. Anyhoo, my friend Tess is the team leader for the club's team, "C Steps for a Cure". (A C-step is pretty much what it sounds like - your right foot makes a forward C, and your left a backwards one, as you swing your leg in and out while taking a step. Look, I don't know, okay?)

Only then Tess had to be in Florida for a month this summer as we were trying to get folks to join the team, and she's going to be back there for the month of October as well, so I became de facto team leader, which is why I make all the announcements and am in charge of the shirt orders and stuff.

Our team is, at present, on the small side - there are only 6 of us so far - and our donations are rather commensurate with that. I'm hoping that will change, of course - and I do have a few checks to enter online, so I've raised a bit more than my own $75 contribution. I'm hoping you guys will cheer me on - especially since this damned RA flare hasn't abated yet and I'm fixing to walk over 3 miles in about 3-1/2 weeks' time.

Anticipation

2011-09-27T12:28:00.001-04:00

I am very much looking forward to getting the mail tomorrow. My amazingly wonderful editor, Jamie Michalak at tiger tales books, has put her two advance copies of my picture book, At the Boardwalk, in the mail to me. Yes - two copies, one in hardcover and one in paperback, since my publisher is going to release the book in both formats when it releases next March.

This is months ahead of my author copies, which won't reach U.S. soil until at least January. I am very, very lucky to have such a sweetheart of an editor, who is willing to share what are essentially proofs/production copies with me so that I can see (and hug) my realio trulio book sooner, rather than later. *hugs Jamie*

Hound Dog True by Linda Urban

2011-09-26T16:23:00.001-04:00

Last Tuesday was the official release date of Hound Dog True by Linda Urban. It was not an especially noisy book release, but then again, it's not a terribly noisy sort of book. Fans of Linda's first middle-grade novel, A Crooked Kind of Perfect, will not be surprised by that. Come to think of it, fans of her picture book, Mouse Was Mad, won't be that surprised, either, since Mouse's display of anger is so very, very silent and still.

I must say up front that Linda is a friend of mine. And that I've been in love with this story for a very long time. As in, before it was officially a book, since I had the extreme good fortune to be one of the people who read it when it was still a manuscript. In fact, I still love parts of the book that aren't actually there anymore. So, you know, I'm not entirely unbiased.

However, I should add that part of why I love this book so much is that Linda nails how it feels to be a new kid at a new school - and as a kid who attended eight schools from kindergarten through high school (actually, it was eight between kindergarten and eighth grade), I know what I'm talking about here. My inner twelve-year old felt validated by reading the descriptions of how Mattie felt about getting ready to start at (another) new school.

So, even with my particular biases out in the open, I have to ask: What's not to love about a character-driven story that touches on important issues such as identity - who am I, and what is my place in this world? do I fit in? (I promise I'm not quoting lyrics from "Out Here on My Own" from Fame, though it sorta seems that way at the moment.) And family - how does family fit together? How do family members interact with one another? Is it possible to change established roles and act in a way that's different from an established pattern? And creativity: what is it? how does it manifest itself? and isn't it scary to put yourself and your work product out there where others can see it (and comment on it)? And, at its heart, it's about courage.

The kind of courage that's needed when you move to a new place. The kind of courage it takes to speak up for yourself when things aren't going the way you'd like. The kind of courage it takes just to show up or speak up when you're a shy person. The kind of courage it takes to make art, and to share it with the world. The kind of courage it takes, sometimes, to risk making a new friend.

All of these are things that kids face every day - even non-shy kids have trouble sometimes speaking up when they've got an issue with something going on at home. Or adjusting to a new house and/or school. Or dealing with new friends. Or sharing their music/art/writing/dance or whatever talent it is they have. The world can be a risky place, and this story about Mattie Mae Breen conveys that well, from the beginning of Chapter One, where Mattie notices the warnings on a ladder:

The stick man has bolts of cartoon electricity shooting out of him. Attention! Avertissement! it says over his head. Atención! Achtung! Do not use ladder in electrical storms. May cause severe injury or death.

Mattie is glad she is not in an electrical storm. She does not want little bolts of lightning to shoot out of her. Of course, she's just standing at the bottom of the ladder, holding it two-hand steady, eyes level with the warning labels pasted to its metal sides. It's Uncle Potluck up top, like the stick man, so probably Uncle Potluck would get the death. Mattie'd only get severe injury, she figures, and for a minute she thinks about what kind of injury that might be. Lightning could split a tree, she knew. Maybe it would split her. Take a leg off or something. Or maybe she'd singe all over, like a shirt ironed too hot. Either way, it is good they are inside, she tells herself.

It is good that they are here, inside Mitchell P. Anderson Elementary School, inside Ms. Morgan's fifth grade classroom, inside the room that Uncle Potluck says will be hers once school starts.

And she keeps it good by focusing on the stick man, not wandering her eyes to the rows of desks or the coat closet doors or the blackboard up front. She reminds herself there is a whole week before this new school starts and she doesn't have to think about any of that yet.

She can just help Uncle Potluck fulfill his Janitorial Oath.

She can steady the ladder.

She can think about severe injury and death.

As you can see, despite the themes I've mentioned, there's a healthy dose of humor in the book - and not just here at the start, but throughout. I love how Mattie works to unbend and allow herself to at least consider the idea of making a new friend, and how she thinks up ways to avoid mixing with the student population at her new school, and how her relationship with her family (her mother and Uncle Potluck) plays out.

And oh, do I love the writing. And the voice. And if you or someone you know is a fan of middle-grade fiction, I am pretty sure they'll like this one, too.

Good news!

2011-09-20T11:59:00.002-04:00

Poking my head up from my RA-induced haze to share a bit of good news with you.

My poem, "A Place to Share", is going to be published in Dare To Dream . . . Change the World (working title), a forthcoming anthology from publisher Kane Miller edited by Jill Corcoran. The anthology is going to contain a mix of biographical and inspirational poems. My poem is biographical, and related to the founders of YouTube. My friend Laura Purdie Salas wrote an inspirational poem on the same topic, and the pair of poems will be included in the anthology along with the work of 28 other poets - and just wait until you see the final line-up of people in this anthology. (List not yet public, I'm afraid, but trust me when I say that it's AWESOME, as is the potential illustrator!)

I am extremely excited and more than a little humbled to be included with so many rock stars from the world of children's poetry.

Guys Lit Wire news

2011-09-15T16:36:00.002-04:00

As many of you know, I also post monthly over at Guys Lit Wire. In fact, I posted my review of Baseball Haiku over there the other day before putting it up here, too.

But today, I'm sending you over there to read Justin Colussy-Estes's awesome post What We Talk About When We Talk About Comics. Justin has drawn a comic as part of his ongoing book review. And dudes, it's awesome.

BASEBALL HAIKU

2011-09-14T08:44:00.002-04:00

It's almost playoff season, so today, I'm talking about baseball - specifically, I'm talking about a book that's a few years old now, Baseball Haiku: The Best Haiku Ever Written About the Game, edited by Cor van den Heuvel and Nanae Tamura.

This book of poetry is one that I found in the "sports" section of the book store when it came out, which gives you some idea exactly how sports-oriented it is. The book is intended for adults, but there’s no reason that baseball-lovers of all ages wouldn’t enjoy it (apart from a lack of pictures for the very young, that is).

The book contains a complete history of baseball haiku in both Japan and America, followed by sections of baseball haiku. Since we learn that the Japanese wrote baseball haiku first, I’m starting with them. Within the sections, the poets are listed chronologically by birth year, and are each given a full-page bio including both their poetic and baseball experiences. For the Japanese poems, the poems are presented in English, Japanese and transliterated Japanese (which allows us wacky Westerners who don't actually read or speak Japanese to try to pronounce the poems in their native tongue). I have to say, I thought that presenting the Japanese poems both (all three?) ways was pretty awesome.

The very first baseball haikus were written in 1890 by one of the four great haiku masters, Shiki. He’d learned baseball while at school, and was already writing haiku on other topics. Shiki wrote four baseball haiku in 1890, and wrote still more in later years. Here’s one from a later date:

dandelions
the baseball rolled
through them

In the original Japanese, this followed the 5-7-5 syllable count typically associated with haiku, although the translation does not.

Same goes for this one by Mizuhara Shuoshi, from a set of poems called "Scenes at Jingu Baseball Stadium":

the player takes
his position in the outfield
a cricket’s cry

Here’s a bit of shocking news for you – the first known American baseball haiku was written by noted beat poet Jack Kerouac. The editors of the book explaint that one of Kerouac’s earliest baseball haikus was not printed, but was recited by Kerouac on an album called Blues and Haikus, with intermittent jazz riffs by Zoot Sims and Al Cohn:

Empty baseball field
— A robin,
Hops along the bench

As it turns out, Cor van den Heuvel not only edited the collection, but also has written quite a number of baseball haiku. Although his name is Dutch, Cor is a New England poet who originally hails from Maine. Here’s one that’s seasonally appropriate, but does not follow the 5-7-5 format:

autumn leaves
scatter across the infield
the pitcher blows on his fingers.

Baseball poems aren’t just the province of men. There are three American female poets included as well (but no Japanese women). Some of the sauciest entries in the book are by Brenda Gannam. I confess to liking all of hers, many of which adhere to the short-long-short format, but eschew the strictness of 5-7-5. Here’s one of Ms. Gannam’s poems:

fastball
the pitcher slyly adjusts
his equipment

Again, as it’s almost the end of the season – and the start of the playoffs draws nigh – here’s one last selection from the book, a haiku by Jim Kacian:

October revival
all hands lift
to the foul ball

After the selected haiku comes "Extra Innings", which provides the history of "American and Japanese Baseball," adds a "Baseball & Haiku Book List," and includes an "Index of Poets" as well.

Well, don’t just sit there on the bench – PLAY BALL!

Charlotte Jane Battles Bedtime by Myra Wolfe

2011-08-27T01:44:00.001-04:00

An up-front disclaimer of sorts: Myra Wolfe is a close friend of mine. Close enough that I'd almost be willing to perjure myself and say really nice things about her book even if it was only so-so. Luckily for me, I don't have to whitewash a single word in this review of her forthcoming debut picture book, Charlotte Jane Battles Bedtime, illustrated by Maria Monescillo.

Shall I tell you why I love this book all for its own self? I believe so - and I feel a list coming on:

1. I was not a girly girl when I was young. Oh, I wore dresses on occasion. (Heck, I am of an age that when Easter rolled around, I wore a hat and little white gloves along with my Easter dress, roll-down lace-trimmed white socks and patent leather Mary Janes. Those of you who are scratching your heads asking "But aren't you Jewish?" aren't confused - I am. But I wasn't always. And boy have I digressed. Ahem . . . ) But I was more likely to be found up a tree than in a rocking chair, more likely to be making mud pies than having a tea party, and far more likely to be pretending to be a soldier, cowboy, or pirate than I was to be playing Barbie dolls or pretending to be a princess (unless, of course, I was a pirate princess or something similar).

2. As a result of #1, I have a soft spot for things like girls in drag (one of my favorite tropes, as long-time readers know) or girls in non-traditional roles. Like little girl pirates. Especially little girl pirates who have an eyepatch-wearing teddy bear named One-Eyed Tom.

3. I love excellent words and the use of wordplay. This is, again, no surprise to long-time readers and to those of you who know that I'm a poet. Check out the image and text from the first spread in the book:

Charlotte Jane the hearty came howling into the world with the sunrise.

"Arr. She's finer than a ship full of jewels," said her mother, smiling.

"Arr," agreed her father.

"Also," said her mother, "she's got oomph."

"Formidable oomph," said her father.

This book is ideal for every fan of pirates, for readers who (like me) appreciate girls in nontraditional roles, and for every family that's ever battled bedtime, this book is a must-have. And hey - it'll be available just in time for September 19th, which is (as we all know) "Talk Like a Pirate Day".

Friends With Boys by Faith Erin Hicks

2011-08-17T17:42:00.001-04:00

Next March, First Second Books will publish a graphic novel by Faith Erin Hicks entitled Friends With Boys. In the meantime, First Second and Hicks have launched a page-a-day webcomic of the same name (published Monday through Friday online). It's all about a girl named Maggie who is about to start public high school. With three older brothers to offer their help and guidance (such as it is - they are, after all, boys), a rather shy Maggie tries to navigate what are (to her) extremely uncharted waters; you see, up until now, Maggie's been home-schooled by her mother, who is no longer in the picture. Her dad has just been promoted to chief of police.

Oh. And Maggie has an ongoing relationship with a ghost from the 1800s.

Apparently, the webcomic rolled out on July 4th, so there are 33 pages published as of today - and counting. My inner teen girl kinda has a crush on her oldest brother, Daniel.

Trust me when I say, this is really good so far, and something that many of you will want to check out. The current day's entry appears on the home page, but you can start at the beginning easily enough by clicking "first" underneath the entry.

Here's the link: http://www.friendswithboys.com/.

Foster the People

2011-06-29T23:32:00.001-04:00

Last night, I went to a concert in Philadelphia with M and my intrepid friend, Lisa. We saw Foster the People in concert (high energy from start to finish, fantabulous music and stagecraft, and made of all-around win!) and their opening band, Gardens and Villa (whose album I will be purchasing when it goes on sale next week - they were also most excellent).

Foster the People is best known for its hit, "Pumped Up Kicks", which is a perky, happy sort of tune accompanying grim lyrics about shootings. I happen to be a huge fan of the band's, as well as being a fan of perky songs about serious and/or sad subjects (such as The Smith's "Girlfriend in a Coma", The Jam's "Smithers-Jones" or Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer").

The crowd was full of happy, dancing fans and the show was well worth it's extremely reasonable ticket price ($14, plus another $8 in fees - I KNOW!). See this tour if you possibly can!

Song writing research

2011-06-27T23:30:00.001-04:00

I spent some time over the weekend listening to the lyrics of 23 songs by the Plain White T's. See, they are one of the few bands I'm aware of who write a lot of happy love songs (as opposed to the disappointed love songs or lost love songs that are rather prevalent with some other bands). Out of the 23 songs I listened to, 16 of them involved love or romance and 12 of them were of the happy variety. That's a pretty high percentage.

If you are wondering why on earth I'd bother doing such a thing, then I can assure you that it is related to my work-in-process, a contemporary YA romance based on an Austen novel, which happens to involve an up-and-coming rock band. And I was trying to figure out what sort of repertoire they'd have, and since the main character has written three love- and/or romance-related songs already, I wondered if that was pushing it.

The answer is "nope - not necessarily." Thank you, Plain White T's.

Now for some cold medicine and tea before bed . . .

Emma, Volume III, Chapter 6 (Chapter 42)

2011-06-26T20:29:00.001-04:00

It takes Mrs Elton's plans for Emma to realize that she's never seen Box Hill - so she and Mr Weston decide they'll have an outing. Only then Mr Weston goes and invites Mrs Elton along. This can only end in tears.

This particular chapter, though, is about a trip to Donwell Abbey to pick strawberries, the joint trip to Box Hill having been put off due to an issue with a carriage horse. Mrs Elton tries hard to assume command and control of the party at Mr Knightley's house, but he refuses - to the point of risking offense to her, actually, although in the end she opts not to take it, even though she has actually been put off rather effectively:

"No,"--he calmly replied,--"there is but one married woman in the world whom I can ever allow to invite what guests she pleases to Donwell, and that one is--"

"--Mrs Weston, I suppose," interrupted Mrs Elton, rather mortified.

"No--Mrs Knightley;--and till she is in being, I will manage such matters myself."

Mrs Elton's babbling about a gypsy party with big bonnets and baskets and riding on donkeys sounds a bit overblown and ridiculous to us now, and it probably did to a fair number of Regency readers as well . . . still, to some of them - notably members of the ton and the aristocracy - it sounded like one of their usual outings. It was quite popular for members of the ton to stage just the pretentious sort of outing that Mrs Elton is proposing - with themed "costumes", tables of food set up outside (all of which - tables and chairs and linens and food - had to be carted by servants), and even the riding of donkeys. Mrs Elton, who appears ridiculous to Emma and Mr Knightley (and to Jane Austen), is actually proposing quite a fashionable sort of outing, rather than the more staid and sensible one that Mr Knightley envisions. Austen is taking a bit of a swing at those who make far more work for their servants than necessary in order to amuse themselves in what she considered a frivolous manner, and, indeed, it's hard to read this chapter and the one that follows and come away with a positive view of Mrs Elton's proposed scheme. Still, I suppose there were those readers in Regency times who missed the irony and nodded along to the sound notion Mrs Elton was putting forth.

Mr Knightley's characteristics

They aren't quite enumerated in this chapter, but it's close. Let's look at them, shall we? Especially since he was one of Austen's two favorites of her own heroes (the other being Edmund Bertram - look, I don't know why, okay? Maybe because he demonstrates how a good guy with flaws can come out right in the end? But I am both digressing and getting ahead, since we haven't discussed Mansfield Park yet.) The following list is certainly not all of Mr Knightley's traits, but it's a good list to be going on with:

1. Kind - check out his guest list, which includes Harriet Smith and Miss Bates
2. Thoughtful - he makes careful preparations for Mr Woodhouse, and also makes sure his servants won't be overly put out
3. Conscientious - he checks up on all of his guests
4. Patient - he didn't flip his wig over Mrs Elton's numerous attempts to bully him
5. Decisive - he makes his plan and executes it
6. Gracious - even when he gets stuck with Frank Churchill as a guest thanks to Mr Weston
7. Polite - it goes beyond him doing what he's expected to do, since he also does what he wants to do, which is to invite whom he pleases and organize things how he wants - yet he manages not to actually give offense

Jane Fairfax

Jane Fairfax is at her rope's end when it comes to dealing with Mrs Elton, who has gone ahead and found a governess position for Jane, even though Jane asked her not to. Jane is so intent on getting away from Mrs Elton for a bit that she first convinces Mr Knightley to give everyone a tour of his gardens, and eventually she sneaks out to walk home - alone. A bold move indeed for a single young woman, especially one who is known to have a somewhat delicate constitution.

Jane explains to Emma that she is fatigued - not by the heat or by walking, but by having no time alone. Emma infers that Jane is referring to her aunt, Miss Bates, but I wish to point out that Jane could equally well be referring to Mrs Elton in this instance. And while Emma knows that Jane has this whole governess notion weighing on her mind, Jane never says that's what her issue is. I'm just . . . putting that out there. Those of you who are re-reading this book will understand immediately.

England v. France

England was at war with France for most of Austen's life. Austen, being a patriotic Tory, championed all things English, also had personal reasons for disliking the French: for one, she had two brothers in the Royal Navy, whose lives were at risk because of conflicts with the French and, for another, her cousin Eliza's first husband lost his head to Madame Guillotine during the Revolution.

In this chapter, the rather allegorically named Mr Knightley lives at the equally allegorically named Donwell Abbey (where everything is "done well" - Dear Miss Austen, I see what you did there), and we get this description from an enraptured Emma: "It was a sweet view--sweet to the eye and the mind. English verdure, English culture, English comfort, seen under a sun bright, without being oppressive." Austen treads perilously close to outright stating that Mr Knightley and his home are all that is right about England and its gentry.

In contrast, we have Frank Churchill - a man whose first name is a reference to France (as you may recall from Chapter Two) and who is operating under the cloak of an assumed last name - his birth name being Weston, not Churchill - whom Mr Knightley, that most English of Englishmen, assessed with a reference to a French word in Chapter 18. And when he eventually shows up in this chapter, Frank Churchill is not only cross with his present situation, but with all of England: he cannot wait to get out of England and go abroad, perhaps to Switzerland. While travel abroad was not uncommon among the wealthy, there is something decidedly off-putting about Frank's eagerness to dismiss the country of his birth and hurry off to other climes.

Mr Knightley and Harriet are getting along

Emma is so pleased. I'm sure you remember Mr Knightley's disapproval of Emma's plan to take Harriet under her wing and give her a bit of polish. Now he's quite pleased with her first-rate qualities (as he mentioned to Emma at the Crown) and taking her aside to show of his huge tracts of land and discuss his farming techniques with her. (Any dirtiness in that prior statement entirely intentional, I assure you.) And Harriet seems so over Robert Martin that she doesn't seem to pay much attention to the view of his house and land at all. Happy, happy Emma.

Somewhere, Austen is still cackling over this chapter.

Tea with lemon and honey

2011-06-25T16:27:00.000-04:00

It is delicious, which is a good thing, since I've been drinking buckets of it (almost literally) over the past few days to try to help my throat.

Although M rolled her eyes at me about it in that loud way that teens have, there are actual medicinal properties to the tea, honey and lemon, and they work well together to help your immune system and to soothe and heal the throat. And at the very least, they do no harm. In my case, it seems to be working!

I am back to being hoarse, rather than completely voiceless, and I am continuing to rest my voice as much as possible - not hard to do today when the kids are with their dad and I'm spending the day alone - but I rather expect it to prove a bit more of a challenge tonight, when I pick M up and take her to the Mat Kearney/Owl City concert in Philly.

Still, it'd be nice to have some sort of voice when I go to the tai chi club picnic tomorrow afternoon, so I will try to be monastically silent amid the crowd tonight, in hopes that it works out.

Day Three: The Silence Continues

2011-06-24T14:49:00.000-04:00

Well, not so much silence as raspy whispering, but if I do that too much, I end up with a sore throat.

How on earth do people take a vow of silence? Do they simply not interact with others? Wave Wile E. Coyote signs about? Because I'm telling you, trying to go about your business without speaking is hard.

Then again, it's made for some interesting moments for me. Like yesterday, during yoga, when the woman next to me had no idea I had laryngitis and I told her it was National Whispering Day. Or today, when I ordered some hot water at Barnes & Noble so I could add lemon and honey to it, and the woman who worked there whispered back at me without giving it a thought.

I continue to hope for better days ahead. Meanwhile, perhaps I'll see whether Acme Manufacturing has a bunch of signs I could use . . .

Well hello, Chapter 19!

2011-06-23T23:37:00.000-04:00

You guys! Even though I am sick as a dog (whatever that means), I have managed to finish my first draft of Chapter 18. Which means that I am now on Chapter 19. Technically. I mean, I opened a new Scrivener file for the chapter and typed "CHAPTER NINETEEN" at the top of the page, so it means the chapter is underway, right?

I. Am. Excited! Let me count the ways:

1. I am within five chapters of "The End", since the outline goes to Chapter 23. (Immediate renumbering based on my own weird refusal to change the outline until the first draft is done will come in at Chapter 26, and splitting some of the way-too-long chapters will mean still more chapters exist, but I am pretending I can't hear that!)

2. The manuscript is currently just over 51,000 words. That is more than double the length of the longest thing I've written before now.

3. I am still in love with my characters - and becoming even more so as the book nears its conclusion.

4. The shit is about to hit the fan, y'all, and I CAN'T WAIT! *rubs hands in glee*

5. I might just have another song - or even two - to write. And I find I really enjoy writing songs. Songs that make people cry, even.

Tell me how your own writing or art is going.

Emma, Volume III, Chapter 5 (Chapter 41)

2011-06-23T16:25:00.002-04:00

Mr Knightley has a suspicious mind. True, he's never liked Frank Churchill before, but now it's growing worse. You see, he's noticed that Frank is not behaving as he ought if he's actually chasing after Emma, which absolutely everyone thinks is the case, based on Frank's attentions and hints from the Westons. Mr Knightley, though, thinks there's something going on between Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax - something serious, even, as he believes they have a private understanding (which is to say, a secret engagement).

We are told up front that Mr Knightley's dislike of Frank is "for some reason best known to himself", and Austen does not (yet) tell us what it is, but that it is somehow related to Emma is quite clear from the remainder of Mr Knightley's thoughts and comments in this chapter.

By happenstance, Mr Knightley (walking with Emma and Harriet) bumps into the Westons (walking with Frank Churchill) and Miss Bates (walking with her niece) - the latter two parties having met up already by chance - or is it? But I digress. Frank Churchill asks a question about Mr Perry, the local apothecary, getting a carriage, claiming that Mrs Weston mentioned it in one of her letters. When Mrs Weston denies any such knowledge or occurrence, Frank laughs and calls it a dream . . . except that Miss Bates knows it to be true, as does Jane Fairfax, who now has her head down, fussing with her shawl, while trying to avoid catching Frank's eye.

Once again, games pop up in Emma

Once inside Hartfield for tea, Frank Churchill seizes on a box of "alphabets" - hand-written scraps with letters on them used to form words - rather like doing a word scramble while using Scrabble tiles (indeed, it's a fine use of Scrabble tiles - you pull out the letters for the word, then set the lot of them in front of someone else, who is to solve the puzzle). Frank's first word goes to Jane Fairfax, and is revealed to be "blunder". Mr Knightley is then certain that Frank is playing, in Austen's term, "a deeper game."

Jane is embarrassed when Frank creates the word "Dixon", showing it first to Emma and then to Jane, and she sweeps aside without reading another offering from Frank - but she does not refuse his assistance in helping her to find her shawl.

Misunderstanding between Emma and Mr Knightley

Mr Knightley asks about the word Frank showed to her, and she is so embarrassed that she doesn't want to talk about it - it's a reminder of her suspicions regarding Jane Fairfax having a fling with Mr Dixon, and she doesn't want Mr Knightley to know she thinks it possible. Mr Knightley, however, believes that she is flustered because her affections are attached to Frank Churchill.

Yet he would speak. He owed it to her, to risk any thing that might be involved in an unwelcome interference, rather than her welfare; to encounter any thing, rather than the remembrance of neglect in such a cause.

"My dear Emma," said he at last, with earnest kindness, "do you think you perfectly understand the degree of acquaintance between the gentleman and lady we have been speaking of?"

"Between Mr Frank Churchill and Miss Fairfax? Oh! yes, perfectly.--Why do you make a doubt of it?"

"Have you never at any time had reason to think that he admired her, or that she admired him?"

"Never, never!" she cried with a most open eagerness--"Never, for the twentieth part of a moment, did such an idea occur to me. And how could it possibly come into your head?"

"I have lately imagined that I saw symptoms of attachment between them--certain expressive looks, which I did not believe meant to be public."

"Oh! you amuse me excessively. I am delighted to find that you can vouchsafe to let your imagination wander--but it will not do--very sorry to check you in your first essay--but indeed it will not do. There is no admiration between them, I do assure you; and the appearances which have caught you, have arisen from some peculiar circumstances--feelings rather of a totally different nature--it is impossible exactly to explain:--there is a good deal of nonsense in it--but the part which is capable of being communicated, which is sense, is, that they are as far from any attachment or admiration for one another, as any two beings in the world can be. That is, I presume it to be so on her side, and I can answer for its being so on his. I will answer for the gentleman's indifference."

She spoke with a confidence which staggered, with a satisfaction which silenced, Mr Knightley.

Poor Mr Knightley. Poor, hamstrung Mr Knightley, who believes that Emma and Frank are a couple. He will be laboring under this belief for many more chapters now, mistaken though we readers know it to be. And yet, the plot thickens very much upon us indeed.

Emma, Volume III, Chapter 4 (Chapter 40)

2011-06-22T20:24:00.000-04:00

Oh, Harriet!

A few days after Frank Churchill saved Harriet from the gypsies, Harriet shows up at Hartfield with a small parcel that she wishes to dispose of. She has taken bits of detritus from Mr Elton and squirreled them away as treasures: a piece of court-plaister (trust me, the link is fabulous) and the worthless butt end of a pencil.

She is SO over Mr Elton. And his little wife, too. Of course, being Harriet, she is on to the next one . . . but I get ahead of myself a bit.

In the middle of the chapter, which falls during Harriet's recitation of the fascinating origin of the useless pencil stub she's about to burn, we find Emma focusing on Mr Knightley - what he said, where he stood, etc. Harriet, who was at the time focused on Mr Elton exclusively, cannot say for certain where Mr Knightley stood, but Emma sure knows. (Yet I still don't get the sense that she realizes the emotional significance of her own memories.)

And then, at the end of the chapter, we find Harriet is in love. Again. She doesn't say with whom, and Emma doesn't ask - presuming that it is Frank Churchill, who gallantly rescued Harriet, after all. And when Emma makes reference to Harriet's rescue, Harriet indicates that the man she admires saved her from perfect misery, transporting her to perfect happiness.

On the one hand, I commend Emma for remaining circumspect and not pressing for details and confidences. On the other hand, we all know that Emma the imaginist sometimes jumps to incorrect conclusions.

I hate to be gloomy, but this can only end in tears.

Grrr

2011-06-22T18:23:00.000-04:00

I have not been swallowing swords or fire or crushed glass, but my throat is acting very much as if I have. It appears that meeting a friend to chat about writing progress was not a good idea when I already had laryngitis.

And now I've had to cancel dinner plans. And I'm sitting here (completely silent now) wondering where the waitstaff is, and why no one is bringing me soup. Or tea. Or ice cream.

Back in just a bit with an Emma post.

To quote Lemony Snicket,

2011-06-22T08:51:00.001-04:00

"The world is quiet here." In large part because I woke up with laryngitis. Stupid cold.

Emma, Volume III, Chapter 3 (Chapter 39)

2011-06-21T23:20:00.002-04:00

The chapter opens with Emma thinking about Mr Knightley, and ~~how hot~~ what a fine dancer he is, and how wonderful it is that they both agree that the Eltons are prats. She is pleased by the thought that Harriet is over Mr Elton and that Frank Churchill no longer seems hung up on Emma. She is also pleased that she won't have to see Frank today, but can spend all her time with her nephews, when what to her wondering eyes should appear but Frank Churchill, carting Harriet up the front path.

Long story short, Harriet and one of her friends were approached by gypsy children looking for a handout, the friend did a runner and Harriet . . . didn't. I confess that the Keystone Kops-like description of Harriet, trying to scramble up the bank but failing, cracks me up every single time I read it. But I digress.

What with Harriet being easy pickings, the gypsies went for the full-court press, begging for additional money past the shilling she handed over, and Frank arrived and chased them off. The story can be told with additional flourishes, as I'm certain Emma did for her nephews and absolutely everyone else in Highbury did as among themselves, but to cut to the chase, the chapter ends (more or less) with Emma (mentally) chanting "Frank and Harriet, sitting in a tree . . . "

I cannot let this chapter pass, however, without commenting on this particular line: "How much more must an imaginist, like herself, be on fire with speculation and foresight!--especially with such a groundwork of anticipation as her mind had already made."

To be an imaginist is quite a thing, don't you think? It's how Austen describes Emma here, which comports well with what we know of her. But the term applies equally well to authors in general, and to Austen in particular. Just as Emma seeks to create characters (by building Harriet Smith up, say) or to write stories (through match-making), so Austen creates characters and writes stories. No wonder Austen liked Emma so much - and worried that nobody else would do so.

Blurgh.

2011-06-20T23:19:00.000-04:00

I am sorry not to be providing you with an Emma post today. It will have to wait until tomorrow. I have a cold, and am too muddled to manage. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

See that tea in the icon? The stuff in my mug has lemon, honey and bourbon in it. Gotta love a hot toddy. Hopefully I will not still sound like Kathleen Turner in the morning, although things could be far worse. After all, Kathleen Turner's voice is sexy!

Emma, Volume III, Chapter 2 (Chapter 38)

2011-06-19T22:27:00.000-04:00

This chapter is really something - it's about the ball at the Crown. I shan't summarize the whole thing for you, but will instead pick out a few bits and pieces I feel like talking about, and then provide you with yummy video footage.

A number of privy councillors

Emma is flattered and delighted (at first) to be asked by Mr Weston to come early - but somewhat less so when it turns out that half the company has been asked to come early, and that Mr Weston isn't especially discriminating in bestowing his favor. It leads to an interesting bit of analysis, followed by a lovely bit of foreshadowing:

Emma perceived that her taste was not the only taste on which Mr Weston depended, and felt, that to be the favourite and intimate of a man who had so many intimates and confidantes, was not the very first distinction in the scale of vanity. She liked his open manners, but a little less of open-heartedness would have made him a higher character.--General benevolence, but not general friendship, made a man what he ought to be.--She could fancy such a man.

Frank is eager for the Eltons' carriage to arrive

Because he cannot wait to see Mrs Elton, he says. And then the Eltons, who were to have picked up Jane Fairfax and Miss Bates, arrive without having done so, and have to send off for them. Worried about the threat of rain, Frank rushes out with an umbrella to look after Miss Bates.

Mrs Elton is eager to discuss her carriage

Its acquisition was delayed, based on earlier remarks by her about the carriage. And truly, the care and keeping of a carriage was an expensive proposition, as I remarked upon in this post, which talks about Lady Catherine's carriages, when we read Pride & Prejudice. Mrs Elton now cannot stop herself from talking about their carriage, which is a true trapping of luxury.

Miss Bates is the comic relief

But there are facts and clues strewn throughout her babble, both times it occurs. Just so you know.

Mrs Elton is also eager to discuss what she's wearing

She corners Jane Fairfax immediately to discuss her own attire and to add to the comic relief in her way - pray, do not sing, because she probably thinks that song is about her. And while claiming not to pay attention to what people wear, she essentially makes a cutting remark about the other ladies in attendance:

"Nobody can think less of dress in general than I do--but upon such an occasion as this, when every body's eyes are so much upon me, and in compliment to the Westons--who I have no doubt are giving this ball chiefly to do me honour--I would not wish to be inferior to others. And I see very few pearls in the room except mine."

I wonder if she considers herself to be the pearls before the swine?

Emma notices Mr Knightley

And for once, she notices him in the way that a woman notices a man, and not as a mere friend or pseudo-family member, and she remains quite aware of him at all times - while she is dancing with Frank Churchill, no less:

She was more disturbed by Mr Knightley's not dancing than by any thing else.--There he was, among the standers-by, where he ought not to be; he ought to be dancing,--not classing himself with the husbands, and fathers, and whist-players, who were pretending to feel an interest in the dance till their rubbers were made up,--so young as he looked!--He could not have appeared to greater advantage perhaps anywhere, than where he had placed himself. His tall, firm, upright figure, among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the elderly men, was such as Emma felt must draw every body's eyes; and, excepting her own partner, there was not one among the whole row of young men who could be compared with him.--He moved a few steps nearer, and those few steps were enough to prove in how gentlemanlike a manner, with what natural grace, he must have danced, would he but take the trouble.--Whenever she caught his eye, she forced him to smile; but in general he was looking grave. She wished he could love a ballroom better, and could like Frank Churchill better.--He seemed often observing her.

Mr Elton deliberately cuts Harriet

He ensures that his availability will be noticed during a dance for which Harriet has no partner, then evinces an interest in dancing with other women, then flat-out refuses to dance with Harriet based on his marital status. And then he and his horrible wife giggle about it as he makes his way over to converse with Mr Knightley, who, having seen what has transpired, walks away from Mr Elton and asks Harriet to dance, thereby impliedly cutting Mr Elton and instructing him on proper manners. In a public ballroom. *swoon*

Emma and Mr Knightley chat

I love this bit, and therefore share it with you in its entirety. It's notable for several points, including Mr Knightley's remarks about Harriet Smith and his willingness to dance with Emma.(And then the yummy video clips, in which we see sexy English country dancing!)

"I do own myself to have been completely mistaken in Mr Elton. There is a littleness about him which you discovered, and which I did not: and I was fully convinced of his being in love with Harriet. It was through a series of strange blunders!"

"And, in return for your acknowledging so much, I will do you the justice to say, that you would have chosen for him better than he has chosen for himself.--Harriet Smith has some first-rate qualities, which Mrs. Elton is totally without. An unpretending, single-minded, artless girl--infinitely to be preferred by any man of sense and taste to such a woman as Mrs Elton. I found Harriet more conversable than I expected."

Emma was extremely gratified.--They were interrupted by the bustle of Mr Weston calling on every body to begin dancing again.

"Come Miss Woodhouse, Miss Otway, Miss Fairfax, what are you all doing?--Come Emma, set your companions the example. Every body is lazy! Every body is asleep!"

"I am ready," said Emma, "whenever I am wanted."

"Whom are you going to dance with?" asked Mr Knightley.

She hesitated a moment, and then replied, "With you, if you will ask me."

"Will you?" said he, offering his hand.

"Indeed I will. You have shewn that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper."

"Brother and sister! no, indeed."

The song that Gwyneth's Emma and Jeremy's Mr Knightley are dancing to is called Mr Beveridge's Maggot. It has nothing to do with the life-cycle of a fly, but refers to a type of tune popular in the 1700s that is embellished by the players on each repetition. It is the same song to which Darcy & Elizabeth dance at Netherfield in the 1995 BBC version of Pride & Prejudice, by the way.

The tune to which Romola's Emma and Jonny Lee's Mr Knightley are dancing here is an original composition for the score of the movie by Samuel Sim and is (I believe) called "The Last Dance" - the soundtrack is a delight to listen to, but is not put together in chronological order, so it's not always easy to tell what is what.

Emma, Volume III, Chapter 1 (Chapter 37)

2011-06-18T23:16:00.000-04:00

Remember how Emma thought she might be in love with Frank? Well, she realizes after hearing that he's coming back that she wasn't - nor does she want to be. She believes, however, that he is in love with her. And in a moment of clear foreshadowing (one of those things that some critics say Austen never does - I'm pretty sure it means they don't actually read her books?), we get this:

She wished she might be able to keep him from an absolute declaration. That would be so very painful a conclusion of their present acquaintance! and yet, she could not help rather anticipating something decisive. She felt as if the spring would not pass without bringing a crisis, an event, a something to alter her present composed and tranquil state.

Initially, I was going to post only the final sentence, but those of you who are re-reading will be quick to see how all of it foreshadows things that will come to pass ere we reach The End.

When Frank arrives in Highbury again, it is only for a few hours. He quickly calls at Hartfield to visit Emma, but he is distracted and eager to be gone to pay a call on some acquaintances in Highbury before returning to London, where he is tied up for the better part of ten days by his aunt, who is ill. Frank tells the Westons that he believes she's actually ill and not malingering - moreover, London is too noisy for her nerves, so the Churchills are to remove to Richmond, which is only nine miles from Highbury, for the months of May and June.

Given the circumstances, we are to have that ball at the Crown after all. You can feel that shoe being lifted somehow, can't you? - even if you cannot tell exactly how or when it will fall.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 18 (Chapter 36)

2011-06-17T21:44:00.000-04:00

So . . . it's been a few days since the last Emma post. We were at Emma's dinner party, where Mrs Elton was being obnoxious about wanting to find a position as a governess for Jane Fairfax, and Jane was insisting she wanted to spend another three months in Highbury, and then Mr Weston turned up and said Frank was coming to town.

In this chapter, we eavesdrop on a lengthy conversation between Mr Weston and Mrs Elton. He wants to tell her about Frank and give us the backstory on his aunt (Mrs Churchill), and she wants to talk about herself, as well as her sister (Selina) and her brother-in-law, Mr Suckling. My favorite part of their conversation is when they get involved in a chess game or, if you prefer, into a Regency manners version of "anything you can do, I can do better", where Mr Weston is trying to impress Mrs Elton with how ~~wealthy and demanding~~ ladylike Mrs Churchill is, and Mrs Elton is countering with "my sister is every bit as ~~wealthy/demanding~~ ladylike", only at one point - wanting to seem modest - she disclaims something, and then is stuck with Mr Weston accepting her demurral at face value.

"Depend upon it, Mrs Churchill does every thing that any other fine lady ever did. Mrs Churchill will not be second to any lady in the land for"--

Mrs Elton eagerly interposed with, "Oh! Mr Weston, do not mistake me. Selina is no fine lady, I assure you. Do not run away with such an idea."

"Is not she? Then she is no rule for Mrs Churchill, who is as thorough a fine lady as any body ever beheld."

Checkmate, Mr Weston - well played!

Mr Weston makes clear that he believes Mrs Churchill to be using complaints about her health to manipulate people, stopping just barely short of calling her a faker outright. Being such a good-hearted soul, he later muses that he hopes that he hasn't done his sister-in-law an injustice by assuming she's not actually ill. We get the information that Mr Churchill isn't all that bad a sort, but that his wife rules the roost - and is the one to blame for the first Mrs Weston's being disowned, etc. And then we get this rather priceless assessment of Mrs Churchill, which I find especially hilarious since nearly all of it applies equally to Mrs Elton. You can practically hear Jane Austen snickering as her quill scratched across the page:

". . . her pride is arrogance and insolence! And what inclines one less to bear, she has no fair pretence of family or blood. She was nobody when he married her, barely the daughter of a gentleman; but ever since her being turned into a Churchill she has out-Churchill'd them all in high and mighty claims: but in herself, I assure you, she is an upstart."

Mrs Elton's response seals the hilarity, as she expresses "a horror of upstarts", criticizing the Tupmans, who live near her own upstart brother-in-law. That Mr Suckling is himself an upstart is proved out by her own account of the purchase of Maple Grove, which she is almost sure was purchased before his father's death. And then we get this: "Mr Weston, having said all that he wanted, soon took the opportunity of walking away." LOL!

The end of the chapter is occupied by a conversation between the two Misters Knightley and Emma. John believes she might end up sending her nephews home early because they'll upset her father or cramp her style. He astonishes Emma by commenting on her increased social schedule - which has some basis in fact, since Mrs Weston now lives elsewhere, necessitating visits to Randalls, plus she dines with the Coles, and there's been discussion of a ball - and Emma is especially gobsmacked to find Mr Knightley offering to take his nephews on at Donwell Abbey if Emma gets too busy for them.

Emma cannot stop from expressing her astonishment, given that she's seldom gone from Hartfield for more than two hours at a time, whereas Mr Knightley is frequently occupied far longer. Moreover, he goes to all the parties she does, and then some!

Austen closes the chapter by taking one more swing at Mrs Elton:

"Mr Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile; and succeeded without difficulty, upon Mrs Elton's beginning to talk to him." (Emphasis mine.)

Five Things on a Friday

2011-06-17T16:12:00.002-04:00

1. S graduated from high school on Wednesday. I couldn't be prouder, nor could I be much happier for her.

2. In August, she starts at the College of Charleston. Again, I couldn't be prouder or happier for her. I could, however, be wealthier, since the loans are going to crush us, so if you happen to learn of a big pool of money lying about, let me know, won't you?

3. M is now officially finished with sophomore year in high school and will be starting her junior year in September.

4. My parents flew in from Arizona and spent the week with us. It was fabulous to see them for a bit!

5. It appears that I will be the featured poet at a July event hosted by the Quick & Dirty Poets in Mount Holly, NJ. Details to follow once the date is firmed up!

Either much later tonight or no later than tomorrow, we'll return to our regularly scheduled blog posts.

Graduation yesterday

2011-06-16T23:10:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was S's high school graduation. I must confess that I am still waiting for the "bittersweet" part that everyone else seems to be talking about, because I'm finding the whole thing to be purely awesome.

Okay, that is an untruth, as you will see in a moment when you read a few of the letters below. But I mean that in the overall-emotional-tenor-of-the-event way, and not in the blow-by-blow of the graduation ceremony way.

I'm not writing a letter to S here, since hey - I've already told her in person how proud of and happy for her I am. However, I feel a need to say a few things to other people. The ceremony was held in a ginormous basketball stadium, and seating was first-come, first-served. (And yes, you had to have tickets to get into the venue - but they were free to family members.)

Dear People Sitting in Section 102 with me and my family:

I am really proud of us for being the section to start the standing ovation in honor of the kids who are going into military service. Especially in today's climate, with so many troops deployed on active duty, people willing to volunteer to defend and represent our country deserve our appreciation. And I'm not just saying that because my brother was career Air Force.

With appreciation,
Kelly

Dear School Superintendent:

We all get it. You're retiring next month. But dude, you were only in our district for, like, 5 years. So why on earth you thought you should speak - at length - about YOURSELF and YOUR CAREER during a high school graduation ceremony is beyond me. Save it for your retirement and the people who, you know, CARE.

While I've got your attention, you ought to know that stringing together a bunch of uplifting adages and phrases (e.g., "reach for the stars", "a thousand points of light", "never, ever give in") does not mean that what you end up with will make any real sense, no matter how good those catchphrases sound. I'm just saying that those of us who bothered to pay attention noticed your lack of actual content.

Signed: A disgruntled parent

P.S. I've got another catchphrase for you. It's "don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

Dear Other Dude Who Spoke for No Apparent Reason:

We all cheered loudly when you accepted the idea that the seniors should graduate. I take it you noticed the collective "Oh no!" and muttering that began as soon as you launched into your gratuitous speech about how you graduated from a DIFFERENT high school and then shared that ridiculously long story about how you had friends who sang in a musical there, and guess what, some of them got together recently and sang one of those songs again and wow, can you believe it's been 27 years, and how did we get so old.

Not only did you get old, you got tone-deaf, because you should never have given that speech. It was tedious, and gratuitous, and off-topic, and completely irrelevant to kids who are in or just now out of high school. It was also boring and annoying. And guess what? It was all those things to everyone else, too.

Signed: A disgruntled parent

Dear Valedictorian:

Your speech rocked. It was well-paced and well-measured and far more cogent and inspirational than anything those two administrators had to say. Your list of life lessons learned in high school and how they apply in the real world was terrific.

Signed: An impressed parent

P.S. If you do ever run for Senate in NJ, you have my vote.

Dear Girl Who Introduced the Superintendent:

Thank you very much for quoting "the noted philosopher, Albus Dumbledore". The Harry Potter reference made me happy, as did your choice of quote: "It is our choices [] that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Signed: A fellow Harry fan

Dear Comic Relief:

You were loud when you started, and I expected you to be obnoxious, yet you totally made it work for you and were, in fact, hilarious. I am positive that your classmates loved your speech and will remember it long after the serious words are forgotten.

Signed: Love2Laugh

Dear Girl Who Spoke Last

When you say that you will be running for President of the United States in the 2040 election, I believe you. I will look for you, and if you are half as articulate by then as you were yesterday, it's likely I will vote for you. What really stuck with me was this phrase from somewhere near your closing, which I copied down at the time and have since copied into my commonplace book, with your name as attribution:

"It's great if you find success, but make your life's goal significance."

Signed: A very impressed parent

And there you have it, in a nutshell.

Well that was unexpected

2011-06-14T21:58:00.001-04:00

My parents are in town for S's graduation tomorrow, so this evening I played the three songs I've written (thus far) for my character in my YA romance novel so my mother could hear them.

She liked the first one. Loved the second (and insisted it needed to be recorded and "out there" in the wide world). And then she cried through the third one because, she says, it's so gorgeous.

Well that was unexpected.

Horoscopes for the Dead by Billy Collins

2011-06-14T15:56:00.001-04:00

Today's post is a duplicate of the one I wrote for Guys Lit Wire. Because hey, why not?

Billy Collins has quite a reputation among U.S. readers of poetry as a somewhat folksy, wry sort of poet. He draws large crowds for his readings. He sells large numbers of his books. And all of it, I submit, is well-merited, since he has the knack, like Robert Frost before him, of speaking his poetic truth - however erudite or deep it happens to be - in such a way that most people can catch at least one meaning of the poem - the surface, at least, whether they choose to look into the depths or not.

Horoscopes for the Dead picks up with some of the same themes Collins's readers are used to seeing. There are some especially funny ones, such as "Hangover", which has nothing to do with the movies of the same name, but which finds a somewhat curmudgeonly (yet still funny) Collins suffering from a severe headache:

Hangover
by Billy Collins

If I were crowned emperor this morning,
every child who is playing Marco Polo
in the swimming pool of this motel,
shouting the name Marco Polo back and forth

Marco Polo Marco Polo

would be required to read a biography
of Marco Polo-a long one with fine print-
as well as a history of China and of Venice,
the birthplace of the venerated explorer

Marco Polo Marco Polo

after which each child would be quizzed
by me then executed by drowning
regardless how much they managed
to retain about the glorious life and times of

Marco Polo Marco Polo

It's kind of crappy audio quality, but you can hear Billy Collins read this poem here if you'd like.

There is another poem criticizing the imprecise use of language so prevalent in today's society - a somewhat popular theme with Billy Collins over the past few collections. (I feel constrained to mention that this poem is attributed to a female speaker, as several such past poems have been as well, and that perhaps a wee bit of sexism is creeping in there since imprecision in language is certainly not a gendered trait. But I digress.) Here, for a laugh, is the start of "What She Said":

What She Said
by Billy Collins

When he told me he expected me to pay for dinner,
I was like give me a break.

I was not the exact equivalent of give me a break.
I was just similar to give me a break.

As I said, I was like give me a break.

I would love to tell you
how I was able to resemble give me a break
without actually being identical to give me a break,

but all I can say is that I sensed
a similarity between me and give me a break.

. . .

You can hear the rest of the poem in this reading, again with apologies for the poor sound quality.

Not all the poems are funny, of course. There is the hauntingly lovely "Genesis", which begins as a poem about the original couple and ends as a poem about a specific modern couple. Or his rumination, "Poem on the Three Hundredth Anniversary of the Trinity School," which begins with him saying he's been asked to write such a poem, but cannot do so - only to find him wandering the land back through time, to that time three hundred years ago when the school was founded.

Highly recommended for fans of poetry, or for those of you wishing you like poetry a bit more. You are almost guaranteed to find something to your liking in this collection. I leave you with "The New Globe" - a poem that is, on its surface, about the obtaining of a globe, but is, underneath all that, about isolation and about feeling lost.

The New Globe
by Billy Collins

It was a birthday gift,
the kind that comes on a stand
and glows from within at night.

It's the size of a basketball
but much more interesting
with all its multicolored countries

and its blue pelagic expanses.
No matter how closely you look,
you will not see a seabird or a fellow sitting on a wall,

yet place a hand on its curvature
and you will feel the raised mountain ranges,
the bumpy Himalayas under your palm.

It shows little desire to join the solar system,
content to remain in this room
showing one side of itself at a time.

And it is a small thrill to gaze upon it
as if gazing through space
from another planet or a balcony of clouds.

You can spin it on its famous axis
and stop it with a thumb
to see where you might belong in the world.

Or you can pretend, as I did,
that your index finger
would go down as the first index finger

in history to circumnavigate the earth.
Just don't get lost like me,
lost as a baby dropped in an ocean.

Oh it's a good thing I was alone,
nobody there to hear me shouting
The Cape of Good Hope must be somewhere, but where?

Life intervenes

2011-06-13T21:54:00.000-04:00

Expect things to be erratic around here this week.

My S graduates on Wednesday, my folks are in town (from Arizona) and all bets are off.

So . . . possibly no Emma post today. And possibly nothing much more either.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 17 (Chapter 35)

2011-06-12T21:52:00.001-04:00

It's still dinner at Emma's house, and the ladies have left the table to head to the parlor.

Most of the chapter goes like this:

Mrs Elton: I'm going to find you a job, Jane.

Jane Fairfax: Please don't. I don't want one yet. I really want to be here for the next few months.

And then the men turn up to going them - Mr Woodhouse first. You'll note that Mr Elton doesn't come scurrying in this time, like he did back in Chapter 15 - apparently he's in no rush to join the ladies, despite his bride being among them.

Just after the gentlemen join the ladies, Mr Weston turns up, to Mr John Knightley's complete bewilderment. Why on earth would anyone give up a quiet evening at home for a party, especially when they have an out?

Mr Weston has news: Frank Churchill is coming back to Highbury. His aunt and uncle are relocating to town (meaning London), and Frank will divide his time over the next few months between London and Highbury. Mr Weston's reference to "the black gentleman" is a reference to the devil - he claims that Mrs Churchill is as impatient as the devil to get to London, now that she's decided to go.

Technical difficulties

2011-06-11T22:51:00.001-04:00

Due to something - solar flares? storms? gremlins? ghosts in the machine? - I've had the spottiest of internet connections all day.

Which means no blog post today.

(We'll pretend this isn't one, okay?)

A Letter to Georgia

2011-06-10T19:50:00.000-04:00

After seeing The Airborne Toxic Event in concert last fall as part of their acoustic tour (with the Calder Quartet backing them), this was my theme song for a while, and even now, when I get to this track on their live CD from their concert at Disney Hall, I have a tendency to hit repeat - again and again and again. That the entire song is about 2:45 on the recording (and a mere 2:33 below) is probably part of it, but so is the spooling feeling that it has, the gorgeous melodic and lyrical lines and, well, here:

This doubles as a Poetry Friday entry for me because of the lyrics, which work well as a poem. I'm especially fond of the final stanza, which is a litany of fears - all of which are pairs of opposites. The lyrics are written using rhyming couplets, with the occasional slant rhyme and one major exception in the first stanza. I haven't seen them written out in any document that comes from Mikel Jollett, the lead singer and song writer, or from The Airborne Toxic Event in general, so I've set it up in four stanzas with a wee coda, especially since the lyrics have a fluid way of flowing into one another. It's for that reason that I haven't really bothered with much in the way of punctuation - it's hard to know precisely where the author wanted it to fall.

A Letter to Georgia
by Mikel Jollett

How can I explain to you
the picture of this avenue
the rain falls on the street outside
my window on this Tuesday afternoon
I sit alone and sigh
the same four walls I've lived inside
so many lives I've lived and died
but none so much as the one I lived with you

I see you on the highway
a thousand miles away
rain falls through your hair and cheeks
your tears and mascara streaks
your face reflected in the glass
the lines on the pavement go past
just like the lines around your eyes
they held the weight of all these sad goodbyes

Everybody that I know
tells me just to let it go
You run from everything they say
you hurt the ones you love, like me
But here I sit and picture you
your fingers worn, your shirt torn through
Your heart so big and broken, too
your mind drifting through all you knew

Afraid to love, afraid to lose
afraid to stall, afraid to choose
afraid to live, afraid to die
afraid you'll let your day slip by
afraid you'll change or stay the same
afraid you'll lose yourself again
afraid of the truth: that love
can cause you so much pain

I've felt it too
I know, I know
Darlin' I wish it wasn't true

Seriously, is that not a gorgeous set of lyrics and, better still, a gorgeous song?

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 16 (Chapter 34)

2011-06-09T20:48:00.000-04:00

Emma throws a party

In honor of the Eltons, no less. Because it is expected of her. She invites the Westons and Mr Knightley, as well as Jane Fairfax, about whom she is feeling guilty after Mr Knightley's observations in the last chapter. (She first invites Harriet, hoping that Harriet will decline, which she does.)

Their party is increased by one Mr John Knightley, there to bring the two eldest of his boys for a visit, and decreased by one Mr Weston, who has business in London.

And we find out that Jane Fairfax makes a daily trip to the post office, and is quite adamant about going there, come hell or high water, and is equally adamant about not allowing anyone else to pick up her letters.

Curiouser and curiouser . . .

Meanwhile, Emma is a bit unhappy that Mr John Knightley is joining them. As her actual brother-in-law, he will take the seat at the bottom of the table (the opposite end from the top, of course, where Emma sits in her capacity as female head of household - Mr Woodhouse, we are told, doesn't like to have to preside over his own table). She would much prefer to look across the table at Mr Knightley.

Again, I say, "curiouser and curiouser . . . "

Let's talk about handwriting

What with that talk of letters, it's not unusual to mention handwriting. John Knightley says that Isabella's (his wife's) and Emma's is very much alike. Mr Knightley disagrees, saying that Emma's handwriting is stronger, with an implication that it is superior.

Emma mentions that Frank Churchill has nice handwriting (for a guy), and Mr Knightley decries it as small and feminine.

Is it just me, or is it possible to interpret Mr Knightley's comments about handwriting as interest in Emma and dislike for Frank?

Mrs Elton's notions of entertaining

Mrs Elton wants to make an impressive show with her entertaining. "Separate candles" means that she intends for each table to have its own candles, in addition to the sconces and any chandelier in the room - with candles being rather expensive, this is a form of display not usually bothered with. "Unbroken packs" is a reference to new packages of cards for each of the card tables - not necessary when people are playing parlor games for low stakes, although certainly common enough at high-stakes tables as a means of assuring that the deck has not been stacked.

Mrs Elton has come from Bath, which is a fairly busy metropolis, to Highbury, which is a small, rural town. Her shock at people not having ices (ice cream) at their parties, and her snootiness about the quality of the "rout-cakes" (small cakes served at evening entertainments), coupled with her being aghast that not everyone has two parlors, show that she is quite busy judging everyone - and generally finding them lacking.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 15 (Chapter 33)

2011-06-08T23:46:00.000-04:00

About the Eltons

The narrator opens the chapter by explaining to us that Emma has judged Mrs Elton aright - and that Mr Elton seems quite proud of his obnoxious, ill-bred wife. Moreover, from Mrs Elton's coolness toward Emma and the scorn of both Eltons toward Harriet, it becomes clear that Mr Elton has told his wife what transpired - or at least the part where Emma tried to set him up with Harriet. They don't dare cut or snub Emma, since she's actually at the highest level of local society, but Harriet, being at or near the bottom rung, is evidently fair game.

Jane Fairfax's impression on Mrs Elton

Mrs Elton is quite taken with Jane Fairfax. QUITE taken. After all, Jane Fairfax is everything a young gentlewoman ought to be - articulate, talented, well-read, well-mannered; she is, in fact everything that Mrs Elton is not, but probably aspires to be. The other thing Jane Fairfax is is poor - as a result, she is actually slightly lower in society than Mrs Elton at this point in time, which leaves Mrs Elton feeling smug and powerful. Behind Jane Fairfax's back, she often speaks of taking Jane under her wing, etc. - and it seems that Miss Bates was only too happy to promote the initial acquaintance, and now Jane is rather stuck spending a lot of time with Mrs Elton.

Mr Knightley hints that if Jane Fairfax had better offers *cough*EMMA*cough*, she might not spend so much time with Mrs Elton. He further points out that when Mrs Elton is in Jane's company, she is a bit overawed by her, and therefore less likely to be quite as offensive in person as she is behind Jane's back.

Full many a flower . . .

Mrs Elton quotes lines from Thomas Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard," which was first printed in 1751. It was at that time one of the best-known poems in the English language. The poem describes a poet wandering through a graveyard, observing the neglected condition of the graves. It is a rather meditative, yet political, sort of poem that is about the democracy of death, really: how, in the end, the differences between the various social classes don't mean all that much.

The poem was often quoted, and will be familiar to some modern readers for the words beginning the following stanza, which appears several stanzas after the one from which Mrs Elton draws:

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife
Their sober wishes never learned to stray;
Along the cool sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

Mrs Elton has, of course, pulled lines out of context - the lines she quotes relate to the notion that some of the unremembered dead might have been as great as heroes, in their way, but never got the chance to reveal themselves that way - but she has not completely misquoted the poet, even though the poet was lamenting the death of people who had not reached their potential, whereas Mrs Elton applies them to a living person. The lines she pulls out support her proposition, which is that Jane needs to be praised or have some recognition sent her way.

I suggest, as well, that Austen gave these lines to Mrs Elton, who comes from the merchant class, as a way of saying that class distinctions don't matter all that much. And truly, that is one of the themes being explored in Emma - from Mr Weston having earned his wealth in trade to Emma's decision to take Harriet on as a friend, certain that her sweetness and good manners are the mark of her being born to gentlepeople, if not nobility, to her decision to separate Harriet from Mr Martin to her nonsensical take on the Coles to the introduction of the classless Mrs Elton, and through to some resolutions and remarks that I'll not share yet in the body of the post because they're spoilery, we see Austen examining whether distinctions of class and rank are important, and we're seeing how well-mannered, polite people are found to be acceptable no matter what stratum they come from, whereas boorish or crass ones are found to be unpleasant, again, no matter what rank they have.

This is not a new theme for Austen by any stretch, but can be seen clearly in Pride & Prejudice, where the highest-ranked person in the novel is one of the most boorish (Lady Catherine) and the Gardiners (who were of the merchant class) are genteel, or in Persuasion, where tremendous praise is heaped on the officers in the Royal Navy, part of the upwardly mobile middle class in Austen's day, whereas scorn falls on Sir Walter Elliot and his cousin, the Viscountess Dalrymple. Still, it bears mentioning that invoking this poem does more than offer a warning about the possibility of Jane Fairfax languishing in obscurity; it is also there as a commentary on the social structure of the time.

Jane Fairfax's decision to stay in Highbury

We learn that Jane Fairfax has been invited (again) to go to Ireland, and that she is being exhorted, in fact, to do so. Were she to go, she'd rejoin a higher level of society and get away from Miss Bates's and Mrs Elton's chatter, yet Jane refuses to leave town.

Such a decision is inexplicable to Emma, who rightly imagines that Jane must have a particular reason for not leaving town to join the Campbells. (Emma, having no other information on which to explain such an illogical choice to herself than her own speculation, decides that Jane must be desperate to avoid seeing Mr Dixon again.)

Mr Knightley's embarrassment

When Mr Knightley speaks up in Jane Fairfax's defense, he finds Mrs Weston and Emma looking askance at him. He quite literally blushes over it, and Emma, now curious to know whether he has the hots for Jane Fairfax, intimates that perhaps he doesn't know the extent of his own esteem for Jane. He tells Emma that she is late to this particular question, and that Mr Cole asked him about it six weeks ago, but that he does not have a thing for Jane Fairfax - she is not of an open enough temperament for him. He goes further and says that he doesn't believe Jane would have him if he asked her to marry him and that, moreover, he would never ask her.

"So you have been settling that I should marry Jane Fairfax?"

"No indeed I have not. You have scolded me too much for match-making, for me to presume to take such a liberty with you. What I said just now, meant nothing. One says those sort of things, of course, without any idea of a serious meaning. Oh! no, upon my word I have not the smallest wish for your marrying Jane Fairfax or Jane any body. You would not come in and sit with us in this comfortable way, if you were married."

Mr Knightley was thoughtful again. The result of his reverie was, "No, Emma, I do not think the extent of my admiration for her will ever take me by surprize.--I never had a thought of her in that way, I assure you." And soon afterwards, "Jane Fairfax is a very charming young woman--but not even Jane Fairfax is perfect. She has a fault. She has not the open temper which a man would wish for in a wife."

Emma could not but rejoice to hear that she had a fault. "Well," said she, "and you soon silenced Mr Cole, I suppose?"

"Yes, very soon. He gave me a quiet hint; I told him he was mistaken; he asked my pardon and said no more. Cole does not want to be wiser or wittier than his neighbours."

Mrs Weston, of course, thinks that Mr Knightley's denials mean that he is interested in Jane Fairfax, but Emma will not believe it.

However, given the way he speaks, it sounds very much as if Mr Knightley has a young lady in mind, does it not?

A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg

2011-06-07T21:44:00.001-04:00

Over the past six weeks, I've been dipping into the various stories and recipes inside A Homemade Life: stories and recipes from my kitchen table by Molly Wizenberg, and today I finally reached the end of the book. Which is not to say that I've put the book away for good, because I still intend to dip into the book for purposes of actually trying some of the recipes it contains.

This book is a truly interesting hybrid - it's part memoir, part cookbook. Wizenberg, the blogger behind Orangette, shares personal stories about growing up, her father's death, her time in Paris, and meeting and marrying her husband, and each story comes with one or more recipes that are somehow related to the story she's just told. There are extremely simple recipes - such as "Bread and Chocolate" or "Radishes and Butter with Fleur de Sel" - and rather more involved ones - such as "Doron's Meatballs with Pine Nuts, Cilantro, and Golden Raisins" and "Vanilla Bean Buttermilk Cake with Glazed Oranges and Crème Fraiche", although nothing in the book sounds extraordinarily tricky. The stories enhance the recipes and vice-versa, and if you go through the entire book, you find a variety of courses, from soups and salads to main courses, side dishes, and desserts.

More wistful and not as hilarious as Julie & Julia by Julie Powell, but with just as compelling an authorial voice, the memoir parts involving food really tugged at me. Reading about her father's illness and death was sad, but it made reading about her romance and marriage that much sweeter. Truly a good read even if you don't plan on cooking. But if you are, as I am, interested in food and in homecooking, then this book really, truly is for you. The recipes are well-written and the variety of items in the book is extremely promising.

I am especially looking forward to making "The Winning Hearts and Minds Cake" and the "Caramelized Cauliflower with Salsa Verde", although there are at least another ten or so recipes that I definitely plan on trying out, including ratatouille and chana masala. Even more, I'm looking forward to Wizenberg's second book, tentatively entitled Delancey, due out (most likely) in early 2013.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 14 (Chapter 32)

2011-06-06T21:43:00.000-04:00

Well hello, Mrs Elton!

Emma pays her call on the early side, not because she's all that curious, but because propriety demands it. And she drags Harriet along too - under the theory that she wants to get it over with.

And does Emma like her?

She did not really like her. She would not be in a hurry to find fault, but she suspected that there was no elegance;--ease, but not elegance.--She was almost sure that for a young woman, a stranger, a bride, there was too much ease. Her person was rather good; her face not unpretty; but neither feature, nor air, nor voice, nor manner, were elegant. Emma thought at least it would turn out so.

Mr Elton, on the other hand, is not at all at ease - and who can blame him? Not Emma:

when she considered how peculiarly unlucky poor Mr. Elton was in being in the same room at once with the woman he had just married, the woman he had wanted to marry, and the woman whom he had been expected to marry, she must allow him to have the right to look as little wise, and to be as much affectedly, and as little really easy as could be.

Let's talk about Mrs Elton

Harriet: Isn't she charming?

Emma: Ummm . . . yes?

Harriet: I think she's very beautiful, don't you?

Emma: "Very nicely dressed, indeed; a remarkably elegant gown."

Harriet: No wonder he fell in love.

Emma: "Oh! no--there is nothing to surprize one at all.--A pretty fortune; and she came in his way."

Harriet: I'm sure she was very attracted to him.

Emma: Maybe, "but it is not every man's fate to marry the woman who loves him best. Miss Hawkins perhaps wanted a home, and thought this the best offer she was likely to have."

The return visit

The Eltons return Emma's call, and Emma gets to spend a full 15 minutes alone with Mrs Elton, during which she is able to more fully form her opinion, and it's not a good one:

Mrs Elton was a vain woman, extremely well satisfied with herself, and thinking much of her own importance; that she meant to shine and be very superior, but with manners which had been formed in a bad school, pert and familiar; that all her notions were drawn from one set of people, and one style of living; that if not foolish she was ignorant, and that her society would certainly do Mr Elton no good.

Harriet would have been a better match.

After we hear Emma's summary opinion of Mrs Elton, Austen shows us that Emma is correct: She brags about her brother-in-law, Mr Suckling (a name that then, as now, was funny, and invokes the idea of a suckling pig), she makes incorrect statements (Somerset was known as the "garden of England", not Surry), she talks just to hear herself do so - often relating details that she believes will impress Emma, such as what sorts of carriages her brother-in-law drives, she offers unsolicited medical advice for Mr Woodhouse, and generally natters on almost as much as Miss Bates (although with a bit more focus), and with far more presumption to boot.

"[Bath] is so cheerful a place, that it could not fail of being of use to Mr Woodhouse's spirits, which, I understand, are sometimes much depressed. And as to its recommendations to you, I fancy I need not take much pains to dwell on them. The advantages of Bath to the young are pretty generally understood. It would be a charming introduction for you, who have lived so secluded a life; and I could immediately secure you some of the best society in the place. A line from me would bring you a little host of acquaintance; and my particular friend, Mrs Partridge, the lady I have always resided with when in Bath, would be most happy to shew you any attentions, and would be the very person for you to go into public with."

That's right, Mrs Elton - nearly a complete stranger - just insulted Mr Woodhouse by remarking on his moods and/or mental health, then followed up with insults to Emma - first remarking on her "secluded" life, which, though true, is inappropriate, and then saying that she'd secure her an introduction into Bath society. (Rather as unwelcome a suggestion to Emma as was Sir William Lucas's offer to introduce the Bingley sisters at court.)

The final nails in Mrs Elton's coffin

1. She confesses herself to be astonished to find that Mrs Weston is so lady-like and

2. She refers to Mr Knightley as simply "Knightley" - thereby exhibiting extreme overfamiliarity. In addressing him that way, Mrs Elton is using a manner of address typically reserved for extremely close acquaintances - and even Emma, who has known Mr Knightley her entire life, does not presume to call him simply by his surname and

3. She seems a bit surprised that Mr Knightley is so gentleman-like.

Truly, it's a wonder that Emma doesn't claw her eyes out at this point.

"Insufferable woman!" was her immediate exclamation. "Worse than I had supposed. Absolutely insufferable! Knightley!--I could not have believed it. Knightley!--never seen him in her life before, and call him Knightley!--and discover that he is a gentleman! A little upstart, vulgar being, with her Mr E., and her cara sposo, and her resources, and all her airs of pert pretension and underbred finery. Actually to discover that Mr Knightley is a gentleman! I doubt whether he will return the compliment, and discover her to be a lady. I could not have believed it! And to propose that she and I should unite to form a musical club! One would fancy we were bosom friends! And Mrs Weston!--Astonished that the person who had brought me up should be a gentlewoman! Worse and worse. I never met with her equal. Much beyond my hopes. Harriet is disgraced by any comparison.

Mrs Elton's use of the Italian term "cara sposo" (dear or beloved spouse) to refer to her husband is a demonstration of her pretension as well as of her ignorance - the proper Italian conjugation would be "caro sposo", but Mrs Elton has used a feminine adjective with her male noun. Her use of such a term - and her use of an extremely familiar manner of address for Mr Knightley as well as her abbreviation of her husband's name as "Mr E" plainly indicate to readers that she is not, in fact, particularly well-bred or well-mannered, and demonstrates what Emma meant at the start about her "ease" of manner.

Mr Woodhouse, who seldom says a bad word about anyone, mentions Mrs Elton's rapidity of speech and says that her voice "rather hurts the ear". His ensuing comment, "But I believe I am nice", is not a typo; he is using the traditional meaning of the word "nice", just as Henry Tilney did in Chapter 14 of Northanger Abbey: "Nice" meant "accurate, scrupulous, or delicate" – more to do with things being neat or tidy or precise or particular, and not at all to do with being pleasing or agreeable.

Here's how the return visit played out in the 2009 BBC production of Emma:

Well, hello there!

2011-06-06T21:41:00.001-04:00

Just a quick non-writing, non-reading sort of post at the moment - I'll get to today's chapter of Emma a bit later.

Here's what I've been (and will be) up to:

1. Yesterday, I went to the "summer" meeting of the Jane Austen Society of North America's Eastern Pennsylvania region. It was fabitty fab. I got to sit next to Michael Gamer, a professor of English at Penn, during lunch. We discussed Romantic poets and my contemporary YA romance, which is an update of an Austen novel about which he knows gobs. And then I got to listen to Claudia L. Johnson, one of the foremost Austen scholars on the planet, talking about Austen's hold on readers. It was excellent - food, company, speaker, and all. Plus the nice bartender decided not to charge me for my Coke. A lovely day in and of itself, but afterwards, I picked M up at home and we spent some time in the park - me reading Kay Ryan's poems from her collection, Best of It, and starting a new poem of my own and M reading Blood Magic by Tessa Gratton, with which M is now obsessed. And then last night M and I watched the MTV Movie Awards. Let me just say that Robert Pattinson made me LOL on more than one occasion - he's so deliciously awkward.

2. Today found me starting the cleaning process in advance of my parents' visit next week for S's graduation. And while I started the day in an okay mood, once I went to tai chi class and then enjoyed a frappuchino in the sun for about half an hour, I was positively happy.

3. I'm working on Chapter 18 of my YA romance project, and am quite happy with the continuing progress. Of course, I wish it were going faster than it is, but don't all writers want that for their work?

4. On Thursday, June 9th at 4 p.m., I'm going to be one of several members of the KidLit Authors Club speaking at the Barnes & Noble store in Moorestown, New Jersey. I hope that if you're around, you'll consider stopping by!

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 13 (Chapter 31)

2011-06-05T22:57:00.002-04:00

On the one hand/on the other hand

Emma is having what I think of as a Tevyeh moment:

On the one hand, she's convinced she must be in love with Frank Churchill.
On the other hand, she's not sure how much, really.

On the one hand, she thinks about him, would like to hear news of him, and wonders if and when he's coming back.
On the other hand, she isn't really unhappy that he's gone.

On the one hand, she thinks well of him.
On the other hand, she plainly sees that he has faults.

On the one hand, she likes imagining various scenarios leading up to him proposing to her.
On the other hand, she always, always turns his imaginary proposals down.

On the one hand, she really sees him as a friend.
On the other hand . . . well, there is no other hand. "I do suspect that he is not really necessary to my happiness. So much the better."

She ends by deciding that if he returns to Highbury, she will not encourage him and will hope that he moves on without ever declaring himself to her. Still, she considers him inconstant and changeable, so perhaps he might not propose after all. I suppose time will tell.

Frank sends a letter to Mrs Weston

And Emma is of course allowed to read it. He says nice things about her, and asks to be remembered to her "little friend" - meaning Harriet.

Gratifying, however, and stimulative as was the letter in the material part, its sentiments, she yet found, when it was folded up and returned to Mrs Weston, that it had not added any lasting warmth, that she could still do without the writer, and that he must learn to do without her. Her intentions were unchanged. Her resolution of refusal only grew more interesting by the addition of a scheme for his subsequent consolation and happiness. His recollection of Harriet, and the words which clothed it, the "beautiful little friend," suggested to her the idea of Harriet's succeeding her in his affections. Was it impossible?--No.--Harriet undoubtedly was greatly his inferior in understanding; but he had been very much struck with the loveliness of her face and the warm simplicity of her manner; and all the probabilities of circumstance and connexion were in her favour.--For Harriet, it would be advantageous and delightful indeed.

"I must not dwell upon it," said she.--"I must not think of it. I know the danger of indulging such speculations. But stranger things have happened; and when we cease to care for each other as we do now, it will be the means of confirming us in that sort of true disinterested friendship which I can already look forward to with pleasure."

Emma can't stop wishing to be a matchmaker, even though she has given up on pursuing it in real life. Still, she has formed the idea that perhaps Harriet would make an excellent ~~consolation prize~~ prospect for Frank - once he's finished mourning the loss of Emma, naturally.

Mr Elton's marriage

Harriet is far from thinking of Frank Churchill - or possibly any other young man - at this time, as word of Mr Elton's pending nuptials is all that's being spoken of in town. Emma tries to comfort and distract Harriet to little avail - in the end, she resorts to a good old-fashioned scolding to try to budge Harriet off the topic. It goes a little something like this:

Every time you brood over Mr Elton, Harriet, you hurt my feelings by reminding me how I led you to fall for him in the first place.

When I tell you not to think or talk about him, Harriet, it's for your own good, not for my sake, no matter what I just said. And here are six excellent reasons for you to move on:

1. to develop your own self-control
2. because it is your duty (possibly to move on, possibly to be happy for the choice he's made?)
3. because propriety demands it
4. because you don't want to arouse suspicion in other people
5. to save your own health and social standing
6. to restore your own peace of mind

The fact that I will rest easier and suffer less pain if you stop fretting about Mr Elton is really secondary to all these excellent reasons, Harriet - the point is for you to stop feeling pain.

Of course, Harriet seizes on that much-less important reason and runs with it.

Emma's assessment of Harriet

I'm quoting the entire final paragraph of this chapter, in which Emma decides that Harriet may not be particularly intelligent, but she's got such a loving personality that she's sure to attract a guy. Emma (rightly) notes that she doesn't have that sort of warmth and tenderness, and closes with a nice bit of careful-what-you-wish-for foreshadowing:

"There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart," said she afterwards to herself. "There is nothing to be compared to it. Warmth and tenderness of heart, with an affectionate, open manner, will beat all the clearness of head in the world, for attraction, I am sure it will. It is tenderness of heart which makes my dear father so generally beloved--which gives Isabella all her popularity.--I have it not--but I know how to prize and respect it.--Harriet is my superior in all the charm and all the felicity it gives. Dear Harriet!--I would not change you for the clearest-headed, longest-sighted, best-judging female breathing. Oh! the coldness of a Jane Fairfax!--Harriet is worth a hundred such--And for a wife--a sensible man's wife--it is invaluable. I mention no names; but happy the man who changes Emma for Harriet!"

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 12 (Chapter 30)

2011-06-04T22:55:00.000-04:00

Once again, a chapter in which Austen hides her clues in plain sight. This is another of those chapters in which, to borrow a term from one of Jenn Hubbard's comments to an earlier post, we see Austen setting up all her dominoes.

About that ball

Emma first frets that Frank will not be given permission to stay, but it turns out that while his aunt at Enscombe is not happy about it, she allows it. Looking for something else to fret about, Emma decides to be put out at Mr Knightley's disinterest in the ball.

Mr Knightley: If the Westons want to have a ball, I'll go, but I'd much rather stay home and look over the accounts for my estate. *sings "I Won't Dance, Don't Ask Me"*

Meanwhile, it turns out that Jane Fairfax really LOVES the idea of the ball. Moreso than Emma. At least as much if not moreso than Frank Churchill. Quoth she, "Oh! Miss Woodhouse, I hope nothing may happen to prevent the ball. What a disappointment it would be! I do look forward to it, I own, with very great pleasure." She is open and animated, even. What were the odds?

"The over-throw of everything"

Alas, a mere two days after Frank is given permission to stay, he is summoned home. Poor Mrs Churchill is ill. Only Frank knows that she's only ill when she wants something, so he isn't too concerned about it. Still, he must away. Emma is alerted about the situation by a note from Mrs Weston, who tells us that Frank has only enough time to take his leave of a few friends in Highbury, and then he'll probably stop at Hartfield, and then he must away.

Emma was ready for her visitor some time before he appeared; but if this reflected at all upon his impatience, his sorrowful look and total want of spirits when he did come might redeem him. He felt the going away almost too much to speak of it. His dejection was most evident. He sat really lost in thought for the first few minutes; and when rousing himself, it was only to say,

"Of all horrid things, leave-taking is the worst."

"But you will come again," said Emma. "This will not be your only visit to Randalls."

"Ah!--(shaking his head)--the uncertainty of when I may be able to return!--I shall try for it with a zeal!--It will be the object of all my thoughts and cares!

Emma is sorry the ball has been delayed, but gratified at having been right about it not happening. Still, she says, "I would much rather have been merry than wise."

Frank waxes quite rhapsodic about Highbury and the people who get to remain there, discussing how precious every moment of his visit was to him, and he starts to tell Emma something confidential, but she, suspecting he is going to speak words of love, puts him off. He sighs, obviously trying to make out her tone and meaning, and then his father appears, leaving Emma to think things through.

Listlessness = love

She has decided that Frank must be very much in love with her, and may have been on the brink of proposing prior to his father's arrival. Once he's gone, taking his newness and charm and enthusiasm with him, Emma feels let down - and surmises that perhaps she's a little in love with Frank Churchill after all. "This sensation of listlessness, weariness, stupidity, this disinclination to sit down and employ myself, this feeling of every thing's being dull and insipid about the house!--I must be in love[.]" LOL!

Her thoughts immediately turn from the possibility of love with Frank Churchill to Mr Knightley, who must be happy that the ball has been cancelled. Mr Knightley does not triumph in it, however; he's sorry that Emma did not have an opportunity to dance. And poor Jane Fairfax has been so ill with headaches that Miss Bates figures she wouldn't have made it to the ball anyhow.

Those of you re-reading the book should feel free to post spoilers in the comments if you care to discuss them, but please mark them spoilery up front so first-time readers have the option of avoiding them.

Shelling Peas

2011-06-03T23:53:00.001-04:00

The lovely and talented Jama Kim Rattigan has posted my poem, "Shelling Peas", on her blog today, along with a poem by fellow NJ poet Penny Harter (whom I've never met). Penny's poem is also entitled "Shelling Peas". What are the odds? And yet Jama found still more similarities between the poems.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 11 (Chapter 29)

2011-06-03T13:52:00.000-04:00

Austen opens this chapter with something close to sarcasm. You can hear the dryness of her tone quite clearly, yes?

It may be possible to do without dancing entirely. Instances have been known of young people passing many, many months successively, without being at any ball of any description, and no material injury accrue either to body or mind[.]

Turns out that Frank really wants to dance. Those two dances he danced with Emma have made him long for a ball, and he busily tries to work out how to have a dance so that Emma, Harriet, Jane and the two Cox girls can all dance at the same time. Alas, the Weston's parlors at Randalls are too small for five couples. And, come to think of it, five couples are too few for a ball. And Mrs Weston doesn't have enough room for dancing and supper, which is her main concern as a hostess.

Despite the obvious impediments to hosting a ball at Randalls, Frank Churchill refuses to let it die.

One really ought, I think, examine why this is so? Why is he in such a lather to have a ball at all? With whom is he so very eager to dance? Putting that aside, he (once again) insists that his concern is not really his - it's his father's, he says: Mr Weston liked the idea of a ball, and will be crushed if there cannot be one.

Emma thinks to ask some questions, although not the ones I listed - she is convinced that he is in a lather to dance with her, as a matter of course.

Emma perceived that the nature of his gallantry was a little self-willed, and that he would rather oppose than lose the pleasure of dancing with her; but she took the compliment, and forgave the rest. Had she intended ever to marry him, it might have been worth while to pause and consider, and try to understand the value of his preference, and the character of his temper; but for all the purposes of their acquaintance, he was quite amiable enough. [Emphasis added.]

The next day, Frank Churchill visits Emma at Hartfield to announce a new scheme - based on her strong desire to dance (again, he projects his own desires onto someone else): They are to have a ball at the Crown.

Emma savvily negotiates her father's approval of the scheme. It would be tempting to skip this portion of the chapter, but it is actually important for a couple of reasons:

1. We are shown for the first time how Mr Woodhouse responds to any new scheme - with alarm and a near-complete rejection.

2. We are shown how Emma manages to talk him around by proving (a) that there's no health risk, (b) that it's very convenient for him (and/or his horses) and (c) that the person in charge of the scheme is someone he already knows and trusts (here, Mrs Weston).

This pattern will repeat itself later in the novel when it comes to another sort of scheme entirely, and it's fun to watch Austen set up the pattern so that when we see it later, it feels vaguely familiar and is entirely in character for Mr Woodhouse and Emma.

The examination of the rooms at the Crown

In looking over the rooms at the Crown, there's some concern about where to eat - crowded in the small room adjoining the room where the dancing will take place, or down a hallway in another room, with a (probably unreasonable) fear of exposure to drafts in the hallway.

Frank immediately proposes securing another opinion, volunteering to go get the Coles - or, better yet, Miss Bates, since she lives so close by. Despite Emma pointing out that Miss Bates cannot be relied on for a useful opinion, Frank manages it so that Mr Weston directs him to bring not only Miss Bates, but also Jane Fairfax - whom he feigns not to have thought about. (Seriously, Frank, you've known her longer than you've known anybody in town except your father - and yet you didn't remember her? And yet, nobody calls bullshit on that.) And then he runs off to fetch the two ladies in question.

Our chapter ends with the news that Frank has sent to his aunt at Enscombe for permission to extend his stay a few days (so as to attend the ball), and has asked Emma to stand up with him for the first two dances, to the delight of both Westons.

Celebrating a friend's good news

2011-06-03T12:51:00.000-04:00

And you can help me. Pop on over to Angela De Groot's blog and congratulate her on becoming an award-winning poet!

Listy list

2011-06-02T14:48:00.001-04:00

1. My yoga pants are too big. They were snug when purchased about seven weeks ago. They have not stretched out.

2. I am now a card-carrying member of the Romance Writers of America. Okay, so I don't actually have a card, but I got the emails confirming that I'm now a member. To quote Steve Martin's character in The Jerk, "Things are going to start happening to me now!"

3. I have talented writer friends. I recently finished reading and critiquing a fantasy manuscript for one friend that has a really cool creature/being in it - no, it is not a sparkly vampire. Nor is it a werewolf or zombie. It's unique and cool and awesome. And I'm up late because I just finished reading and commenting on a contemporary middle grade ms for another friend and holy shit, Batman, but it is gorgeous. And I have two more manuscripts around here to get through, and I know for a fact that they are going to knock my socks off as well. Thank goodness it's sandal weather.

4. Tonight is S's senior prom. Two weeks from now she will have graduated high school. Just over two months from now she'll be leaving for the College of Charleston. "And the seasons, they go 'round and 'round and the painted ponies go up and down . . . "

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 10 (Chapter 28)

2011-06-01T22:46:00.000-04:00

This chapter is composed of Austen hiding many of her clues in plain sight. Totally brilliant.

After all the clatter and chatter of mounting the steps that closes the prior chapter, Emma and friends enter the Bates's drawing room to find Mrs Bates asleep in her chair, Frank Churchill working on fixing Mrs Bates's eyeglasses, and Jane Fairfax standing with her back to them, looking at her pianoforte.

Frank Churchill: Holy cow! I didn't expect you for at least another 10 minutes.

Jane Fairfax: *is flustered*

Frank Churchill: *chatters madly, drawing Emma's attention to himself*

Emma: *is flattered*

Jane Fairfax: *starts to play the pianoforté, still flustered*

Emma: *thinks Jane is still overwhelmed by getting the pianoforté*

Frank Churchill: *talks to Emma, so that Jane can also hear* Nice pianoforte, isn't it? It's just exactly the sort of piano that everyone in Colonel Campbell's party liked best. The person who ordered it must have paid special attention to that.

Emma: *tries to shush Frank*

Frank Churchill: NICE PIANOFORTE. I wonder if the Campbells know about it being here.

Jane Fairfax: Until I get a letter from the Campbells, I cannot say. It would be conjecture.

Frank Churchill: "Conjecture--aye, sometimes one conjectures right, and sometimes one conjectures wrong." I wish I could conjecture how soon I shall make this rivet quite firm." *finally fixes the glasses and gives them to Mrs Bates, then goes over to the pianoforte*

"If you are very kind," said he, "it will be one of the waltzes we danced last night;--let me live them over again. You did not enjoy them as I did; you appeared tired the whole time. I believe you were glad we danced no longer; but I would have given worlds--all the worlds one ever has to give--for another half-hour."

She played.

"What felicity it is to hear a tune again which has made one happy!--If I mistake not that was danced at Weymouth."

She looked up at him for a moment, coloured deeply, and played something else. He took some music from a chair near the pianoforte, and turning to Emma, said,

"Here is something quite new to me. Do you know it?--Cramer.--And here are a new set of Irish melodies. That, from such a quarter, one might expect. This was all sent with the instrument. Very thoughtful of Colonel Campbell, was not it?--He knew Miss Fairfax could have no music here. I honour that part of the attention particularly; it shews it to have been so thoroughly from the heart. Nothing hastily done; nothing incomplete. True affection only could have prompted it."

Emma wished he would be less pointed, yet could not help being amused; and when on glancing her eye towards Jane Fairfax she caught the remains of a smile, when she saw that with all the deep blush of consciousness, there had been a smile of secret delight, she had less scruple in the amusement, and much less compunction with respect to her.--This amiable, upright, perfect Jane Fairfax was apparently cherishing very reprehensible feelings.

He brought all the music to her, and they looked it over together.--Emma took the opportunity of whispering,

"You speak too plain. She must understand you."

"I hope she does. I would have her understand me. I am not in the least ashamed of my meaning."

Miss Bates: Oh! There's Mr Knightley on his horse! Yoo-hoo! Mr Knightley! Thanks for the carriage last night! Please come in - we have lots of people here!

Mr Knightley: How is your niece? I want to ask how all of you are, but especially Jane Fairfax? I hope she didn't catch a cold last night. How is Miss Fairfax?

Mrs Weston: *to Emma: wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more*

Emma: *shakes Mrs Weston off*

Mr Knightley: I'm going to Kingston. Can I bring you anything?

Miss Bates: Mrs Cole said something about needing something from Kingston.

Mr Knightley: Mrs Cole has a servant and can run her own errands. Do you need anything?

Miss Bates: Won't you come in? Miss Woodhouse and Miss Smith are here.

Mr Knightley: Well, maybe I can come in for five minutes.

Miss Bates: And Mrs Weston and Mr Churchill.

Mr Knightley: Never mind. I can't come in at all. Your room is already crowded.

Miss Bates: Wasn't that a lovely party last night? Wasn't the dancing wonderful? Didn't Miss Woodhouse and Mr Churchill dance well together?

Mr Knightley: Indeed. And since they are all listening in, it's not like I could say otherwise, so I'll go further and say that Miss Fairfax dances extremely well, too, and Mrs Weston is the best player of country dances in all of England. "Now, if your friends have any gratitude, they will say something pretty loud about you and me in return; but I cannot stay to hear it."

Readers cannot help but notice the particular care Frank takes to pay attention to Emma in this chapter, and the particular care that Mr Knightley shows for Jane's health (and his interest in paying her a compliment). Nor does it go unnoticed that Mr Knightley is willing to come in to see everyone until he learns that Frank Churchill is there - but is his refusal based on Frank's presence, or simply on his awareness that their parlor must be very crowded?

And yet there are other things afoot here - Mrs Weston is looking for evidence of Mr Knightley's interest in Jane, yet Emma insists it's not there. And why did Mr Knightley refuse to come in, then say he might, then refuse again? Is it Harriet Smith or Emma that provided the inducement to come in? And why was Jane Fairfax so flustered? And Frank certainly seemed as attentive to her as to Emma, did he not?

If you have spoilery comments to make, by all means make them, but do the first-time readers a favor and flag them as such so that they can avoid reading them!

Theme songs

2011-06-01T01:45:00.000-04:00

Did you watch Ally McBeal? Because I sure did. Heck, I even bought the Christmas album, and I can assure you that Robert Downey Jr.'s recording of "River" is heartwrenching and swoon-inducing. (Yes. Both. Really.)

But there was this one season where Ally went to see a shrink (played by Tracey Ullman), and that shrink advised Ally to get herself a theme song. No, really:

Ally ended up singing a somewhat slowed-down version of "I Know Something About Love", if memory serves. I tried to pick a theme song back then, but it didn't ever really work out for me.

This year, however, theme songs keep finding me. Earlier this year it was the Linkin Park song "Waiting for the End", but for the past month, it's shifted to a different Linkin Park song, "Iridescent" (which is about to blow up big, since it's featured in the new Transformers movie).

For the past few days, though, I've found that this version of Avril LaVigne's song, "What the Hell", is on heavy brainradio rotation (and I also purchased this track at iTunes) - but it doesn't qualify as a theme-song. (Yet?) Still, I sure hope you'll watch Michael Henry & Justin Robinett's video for the awesome four-hand piano playing (with flair!) and the tight harmonies. Oh - and for the crazy terrier in the background:

What about you? Do you have a personal theme song?

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 9 (Chapter 27)

2011-05-31T20:43:00.000-04:00

Emma did not repent her condescension in going to the Coles.

A quick reminder that "condescension" means only "courteous disregard of the inferiority of rank", and that it's supposed to be a good thing, as we discussed in Chapter 29 of Pride & Prejudice. Emma is feeling tickled pink over her acceptance of the invitation - she had a good time, she actually likes the Coles, and, as it turns out, they were so thrilled to have her that she was feeling very much fussed over.

Perfect happiness, even in memory, is not common; and there were two points on which she was not quite easy.

Emma's two points of uneasiness are (1) Jane Fairfax and (2) Jane Fairfax. In the first instance, she feels bad about having voiced her suspicions about a romance between Jane Fairfax and Mr. Dixon to Frank Churchill - and so she ought to be, since she essentially slandered Jane Fairfax there. In the second instance, she regrets that her talent in playing the pianoforte and singing is nowhere near as great as Jane Fairfax's. Harriet's inability to tell Emma's passable talent apart from Jane's superior talent actually infuriates Emma, in a way - and is a further example of how little actual taste Harriet herself has. I so love Emma's riposte: "Don't class us together, Harriet. My playing is no more like her's, than a lamp is like sunshine."

Harriet needs to grow a spine.

That point comes across loud and clear as we observe Harriet's inability to select a muslin or a ribbon or to decide where to have her parcel sent (as a gentlewoman was not expected to carry her own packages - heaven forbid!).

Of course, having made that point so clearly, we can almost be certain that Harriet will indeed start to show some spine - and that the consequences thereof aren't necessarily good. No spoilers, but . . . I'm just putting that out there.

The other thing we learn about Harriet is that she is still hung up on Robert Martin - and now she's jealous, concerned that one of the Cox sisters will snap him up.

What is Frank Churchill playing at?

He has obviously manipulated Mrs Weston into calling on the Bateses so as to hear the new pianoforte, yet he starts to try to weasel out of going to the Bateses' house himself - except that something about his manner leads me to believe that he actually wants to be forced into going. It's all reminiscent of his first day in town, when he says he has to call on Jane Fairfax, then manages things so that he's talked into doing just that.

And then, when he and Mrs Weston call on the Bateses and Jane Fairfax, he insists that Emma should be fetched, but gets himself tied up in repairing Mrs Bates's spectacles so as to necessitate Mrs Weston going with Miss Bates to fetch Emma and Harriet in to hear the pianoforte. (Hmm . . . I feel constrained to point out that this means Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax are home with only deaf Mrs Bates as a chaperon.)

In the midst of Miss Bates's rambling . . .

. . . come important nuggets of information. See how cleverly Austen "hides" things in plain sight, as it were? It's a very good use of mystery-writing techniques, such as red herrings, and burying your clues.

1. Frank's repair of the eyeglasses and manipulation of that situation
2. The Bateses have a servant, Patty, who does their cooking for them. This is helpful to know (from Miss Bates's first ramble) so as to understand how she learns the next bit of information.
3. Mr Knightley sends the Bateses apples every year - but on finding out that the Bateses are nearly done with their supply, and that Jane particularly likes them, he sends another bushel - thereby completely depleting his own stock.

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae

2011-05-30T01:42:00.000-04:00

Today, one of the best-known war poems of all time. It's also the best-known rondeau in the English language. And although it is Memorial Day in the United States today and this post bears the image of an American flag, this poem was written by a Canadian poet.

In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Discussion of the poem:

As already mentioned, it's a rondeau. The "chorus" line of the poem is, in this case, derived from the first three words of the poem: "In Flanders fields". Apart from that line, the poem is written in iambic tetrameter (four iambic feet per line, taDUM taDUM taDUM taDUM), with end-rhyme options of "I" or "O". The first stanza has five lines, the second four, and the last stanza has six lines. The rhyme scheme is: AABBA AABX AABBAX (with X representing the shorter refrain "In Flanders fields", which is not rhymed to any other line).

This is one of the most famous of the War Poems from the First World War. It is frequently misprinted (including at The Academy of American Poets) using "grow" in the first line, but "blow" is actually correct. Flanders is, for those who aren't aware, an older name for the Flemish or Dutch-speaking portion of what is now called Belgium.

About John McCrae: McCrae was a Canadian who trained as a doctor. He trained two of the first female doctors in Canada prior to enlisting in the military. He served in battle, and was none-too-happy when he was diverted from the field and sent to organize a medical unit. In fact, he is quoted as having said, "[A]ll the goddamn doctors in the world will not win this bloody war: what we need is more and more fighting men." His poem, "In Flanders Field", became internationally famous during his lifetime, and he regarded its success with detached amusement, although he was pleased that it was used to remind young men "where their duty lay". The first stanza of the poem is on the reverse side of the Canadian $10 bill. Because so many folks substitute "grow" for "blow" in the first line (in error), rumors abounded that the Bank of Canada got it wrong and was recalling the $10 bills. As Snopes.com pointed out, the first stanza of the poem is, in fact, correct, and any rumors of a recall are false.

McCrae died of pneumonia while working at a war hospital in Boulogne, and is buried in France. Below is an image of the poem in his own writing after it was published in Punch in 1915. (McCrae initially threw it out, but a fellow soldier named Edward Morrison salvaged it and submit it to Punch magazine. It initially appeared anonymously, but was rapidly identified as McCrae's work.)

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 8 (Chapter 26)

2011-05-29T21:22:00.000-04:00

"[S]illy things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way."

Frank Churchill returns from London with a grin and a new haircut, and Emma is struck by his charm and refusal to be apologetic or boastful about his trip. Goodness, but I love the quote that I used to label this section of the post - don't you?

And I think that it's one of those moments in Austen's books that illustrates why her novels are still so popular two centuries after publication (this year marks the 200th anniversary of the publication of her first novel, Sense & Sensibility): Austen is so very good at depicting and/or describing human nature, and that's what readers continue to respond to. Despite the changes in society and manners over the years, her keen observation of human behavior still rings true. It's certainly the case in this scene, where we see that Frank Churchill has done something terribly frivolous, but he refuses to be abashed about it. Neither does he run about trumpeting what he's done - instead, he's willing to laugh at himself when teased about it, but he refuses to apologize or to feel badly about his choice to go to London, and suddenly, something that was decidedly uncool is actually cool. It's a trope we see again and again in modern entertainment, where someone (or something) that is uncool is made to seem cool again. Heck, not long ago I rewatched Easy A, and the way that Emma Stone's character moves from mocking the card her grandmother sends her with a clip from Natasha Bedingfield's "Pocketful of Sunshine" to fully embracing the tune (to the point of quoting lyrics in conversation) shows how this can happen. Or perhaps Cameron Diaz's dance moves in Charlie's Angels.

The party at the Coles' house

So many little scenes in this one party scene. First, there's Emma's exchange with Mr Knightley on arrival. He has actually come by carriage, you see, which is unlike him. Although he has a carriage, he doesn't keep a team of horses for that purpose, and he seldom bothers to use his carriage - instead, he walks, or arrives on horseback.

Eventually, we learn that he has pulled his carriage out so as to have it available to pick up and return Miss Bates and Miss Jane Fairfax, who are invited to join the company for tea (after dinner).

Then there's the pianoforte that has mysteriously arrived from London as a gift for Jane Fairfax. It is a large Broadwood square piano - not nearly as expensive as a Broadwood square grand piano (such as was used by Beethoven), which had inlays and a variety of polished woods, but still considered quite an elegant instrument in its day. (Broadwood was an English manufacturer of early pianofortes, and those instruments were considered quite fine in their day.) It has arrived without any indication as to who sent it. It is widely assumed to have been a surprise sent by the Campbells - in which case the present is proper, even if the undesignated delivery is a puzzlement.

Emma, however, speculates that it might be from the Dixons. If it is from Mrs. Dixon (the former Miss Campbell, who is Jane Fairfax's closest friend) or from both of the Dixons, it is also not inappropriate, even if its method of delivery is still odd. If, however, it is "a gift of love" from Mr Dixon alone - or, indeed, from any gentleman - it is entirely improper, since it was simply not done for unengaged or unmarried men to send valuable gifts to unmarried women. (You may recall this same sort of discussion about Willoughby's gift of a horse to Marianne in Sense & Sensibility.) Emma discloses to Frank Churchill her suspicion that Mr Dixon is rather attached to Jane, despite having married her best friend, because he saved her life and because he is known to have preferred Jane's piano-playing to that of his spouse. Frank indicates during that conversation that he's pretty familiar with the Dixons and was present when Jane was saved, but Emma will not be dissuaded from her conclusion, and Frank Churchill ultimately says that he agrees that the piano is, indeed, "a gift of love" for Jane Fairfax. Emma decides that must mean he agrees with her that Mr Dixon sent the pianoforte to Jane, although careful parsing of this passage will make plain it's all Emma's inference, and not actually Mr Churchill's implication.

Frank Churchill does make a plain statement about Jane Fairfax to Emma that is entirely inappropriate. When Emma catches him staring at Jane Fairfax, he explains that he was struck by how odd and outré Jane Fairfax's hair looks - quite an impolite thing to say. He then vows to go tease Jane Fairfax about it and ask if it is "an Irish fashion" - here a dual reference to the Dixons (who live in Ireland) and a nasty ethnic joke - it was common during that era to make jokes at the expense of the Irish, who were considered stupid and backwards.

Mrs Weston's theory about Mr Knightley and Emma's response

Mrs Weston is quite struck by the fact that Mr Knightley has made his carriage available to Miss Bates and Jane Fairfax. She decides, in fact, that it must mean that Mr Knightley has a thing for Jane Fairfax, and she goes so far as to speculate that perhaps it was Mr Knightley who sent the pianoforte to Jane. Emma's comments about Mr Knightley's benevolence show that she holds him in high regard:

I know no man more likely than Mr Knightley to do the sort of thing--to do any thing really good-natured, useful, considerate, or benevolent. He is not a gallant man, but he is a very humane one; and this, considering Jane Fairfax's ill-health, would appear a case of humanity to him;--and for an act of unostentatious kindness, there is nobody whom I would fix on more than on Mr Knightley.

Emma is outraged, however, by Mrs Weston's suggestion of a romance between Mr Knightley and Jane Fairfax - in part because she wants her nephew, Henry, to inherit Donwell Abbey, but mostly because she believes the marriage would not suit Mr Knightley - and she means specifically his marriage to Jane Fairfax, although she obviously believes he should avoid marriage in general - our first hint that perhaps she has some sort of proprietary feelings for him, although she does not seem to notice it at the time:

"But Mr Knightley does not want to marry. I am sure he has not the least idea of it. Do not put it into his head. Why should he marry?--He is as happy as possible by himself; with his farm, and his sheep, and his library, and all the parish to manage; and he is extremely fond of his brother's children. He has no occasion to marry, either to fill up his time or his heart."

You'll notice that her reasons for Mr Knightley not marrying are largely the same as her reasons she gave Harriet for why it is that she doesn't wish to marry - a rather clear case of projecting, perhaps, but also (given what we know of Mr Knightley) a rather clear assessment of his inclinations.

I am rather inclined to believe Emma is better in tune with Mr Knightley than is Mrs Weston in this scene (pun there intended). She says that if Mr Knightley had sent the pianoforte to Jane Fairfax, he would have first given Miss Fairfax notice that it was coming; then later, when the topic comes up between Emma and Mr Knightley, he says "[The Campbells] would have done better had they given her notice of it. Surprizes are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable. I should have expected better judgment in Colonel Campbell."

Here's the last chapter and the start of this one, from the 2009 BBC production:

And here's the rest of the party scene (Stop at 3:26 if you don't wish to see more.)

But, I must say, I absolutely love Jeremy Northam's performance in this chapter/scene, which follows in two parts

Start the first one at about the 4:18 mark to begin when Emma frets over an invitation. (And I do so love the song that Gwyneth Paltrow and Ewan McGregor sing together here, which is called "Silent Worship" by G.F. Handel - you can hear a great solo recording by Kenneth McKellar here):

And stop the second at the 1:57 mark if you wish to avoid moving ahead:

One last word in parting - note how Mr Knightley grows angry over the way Frank Churchill pushes Jane Fairfax to sing a third song. It could just be me, but I don't believe his anger is entirely based on concern for Jane, although I think that's part of it - I think some of it has to do with his inherent dislike for Frank Churchill based on Frank's attentions to Emma. What say you?

Quoteskimming

2011-05-29T21:00:00.000-04:00

Some quotes that particularly struck me recently - most of which have to do with the writerly life. The first is taken from Neil Gaiman's blog post about the 8in8 project, in which he and his wife, Amanda Palmer, collaborated with Ben Folds and Damian Kulash to write songs in a finite period of time.

"[C]reativity isn't always a matter of magic and inspiration. Mostly it's a matter of work. Of doing it."

Being somewhat voyeuristic in nature, I am always interested in seeing the spaces in which authors work. Which is why I was pleased to learn about Erin Bow's office, located in a poledancing studio (no lie), and to see in this blog post where it is that Erin works. And when one sits down in that chair to do the work, sometimes it can be helpful to have some rituals. I especially liked what Erin Bow had to say about inspiration and the use of what she calls "ritual objects and relics" in one's writing space. Isn't this quote of Erin's beautiful?

"I often find one needs to coax oneself closer to inspiration, the way a church coaxes one closer to God. So my office is furnished with ritual objects and relics."

And finally, some wise words from Jennifer R. Hubbard, who was guest-blogging at Natalie Whipple's blog, on the creative person's desire for approval and on staying inspired through the clever use of "celebratory files":

True happiness only comes from within, and it doesn’t depend on external success, and nothing outside ourselves can give us a sense of wholeness...

All true. But that doesn’t mean we don’t crave a pat on the back sometimes, an acknowledgment that what we put out into the world is appreciated by someone, somewhere. This is especially true for writers. In part, we write for ourselves; there is joy in the very act of wordsmithing. But in another way, we write for an audience. We hope to connect with others through words, and when it happens, it’s very special.

For that reason, I’ve created celebratory files.

I hope one or more of these three quotes speak to you as well.

Research for my YA romance

2011-05-28T15:30:00.000-04:00

We all know how to do research, right? You sit down with a computer or with a book and you read and take notes.

Of course that's only one kind of research. Last night, I engaged in another kind - the more experiential sort of research. At the end of it, my ears were ringing a bit, but it was totally worth it. Plus I got to support local artists, including one of S's friends, and I got to hang out with Intrepid Friend Lisa and her wonderful husband.

Allow me to explain:

I raced home from tai chi class yesterday evening in order to change clothes so that I could accompany Lisa and Elliot to the Trocadero (a concert venue in Philadelphia, where I recently saw The Airborne Toxic Event). Their son, Ethan, is one of the members of SexOffice, a local fusion/progressive band that was part of a lineup of unsigned local acts. (They are highly skilled musicians, which comes across loud and clear, and in some of their best pieces they kind of remind me of Spyro Gyra, but I'm not a huge fan of jam-style music, preferring more conventional song structure when I go to concerts.)

See, there happens to be an unsigned rock band in my work in progress (WIP) - a young adult contemporary romance based on an Austen novel - and there's a concert scene as well, and going to see Ethan's band allowed me to take notes on important things - like what people are wearing (both the guys in the bands (no girls, oddly enough) and the people in the audience), as well as observing behavior and body language as well as eavesdropping (when possible - man, it was LOUD in there!) on conversations.

Plus, I got to hear a variety of new music, including Bizarre Silence (we heard two songs, both excellent) and Stone Head (headbanging hard rock - not usually my thing - but really very good and they're the whole package - they look the part, know how to work the crowd, etc.) and a bit of the headliner, Sixkill, along with SexOffice's set. Not all of it was to my taste, but some of it was really enjoyable, so it's a win-win situation.

And now, it's back to work on Chapter 17B. Yes, 17B. Perversely, I refuse to renumber my chapters until I hit The End of the book as outline, so I've added a Chapter 17B to allow for a place where my characters decided to go off the course I'd mapped for them. (There's also a Chapter 10B and a 10C as well, for the same reason.)

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 7 (Chapter 25)

2011-05-27T23:39:00.000-04:00

Frank Churchill goes to London.

For a haircut. Sixteen miles' travel each way. How very shallow of him.

Everyone in town is willing to cut him some slack, except for Mr Knightley.

Emma wants an invitation to the Coles' party.

So she can reject it. How very petty of her.

Only then she decides to get her friends to talk her into going. And her father obsesses over it.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 6 (Chapter 24)

2011-05-26T23:18:00.000-04:00

Mrs Weston and Frank Churchill are getting along like gangbusters. I am trying hard not to spoil things for those of you who are reading Emma for the first time, so I will simply remark how clever Austen is at putting things plainly under the reader's nose, only to divert or misdirect the reader in the next instance. Such is the case at the start of this chapter, when Frank is asked to choose the direction of the day's walk, whereupon he chooses "Highbury, that airy, cheerful, happy-looking Highbury, would be his constant attraction." For Mrs Weston, Highbury (the town) and Hartfield (Emma's home) are synonymous, and so to Hartfield they go. Well-played, Miss Austen, say I.

Mrs Weston and Frank Churchill spend the whole of the morning with Emma - first at Hartfield, and later in Highbury, where Frank is quite interested in seeing the whole town. While in town, Frank declares an interest in dancing and in holding a ball, and then makes fun of Miss Bates for talking so much, moving on to criticize Jane Fairfax's appearance, which puts Emma in the position of having to defend her.

Frank says that an average-looking woman with a good complexion is made more attractive, then fails to complete his comment about the effect of a good complexion on an attractive woman.

Well," said Emma, "there is no disputing about taste.--At least you admire her except her complexion."

He shook his head and laughed.--"I cannot separate Miss Fairfax and her complexion."

"Did you see her often at Weymouth? Were you often in the same society?"

This question that Emma poses is similar to what she asked Jane Fairfax about Frank Churchill before he arrived so suddenly in Highbury. Whereas Jane Fairfax answered the direct inquiries with scant information, Frank initially dodges the question entirely, then answers by deferring to whatever Jane must already have said. Which is when Emma starts to gather further information about Jane Fairfax from Frank Churchill - and, being Emma, she jumps to some deductions about relationships, including the relationship between Jane Fairfax and Mr Dixon and, quite possibly, to the relationship forming between herself and Frank Churchill.

Emma is, in fact, overly familiar in her conversation with Frank Churchill, essentially trash-talking about Jane Fairfax's reserved character and pointing out that Emma resents Jane for being so talented and so highly praised. Emma and Mrs Weston then laugh at Frank when he defends Mr Elton's house :

No, he could not believe it a bad house; not such a house as a man was to be pitied for having. If it were to be shared with the woman he loved, he could not think any man to be pitied for having that house. There must be ample room in it for every real comfort. The man must be a blockhead who wanted more.

Those of you who are reading this for the second time (or more) will appreciate how Austen skillfully manages Frank Churchill's conversation in this chapter. He seeks out Emma's opinion on Jane Fairfax, speaks of Jane himself, and refuses to bash Mr Elton's abode. Emma concludes that his opinion of Mr Elton's house shows an inclination on Frank's part to marry soon. It's fascinating to watch Austen lay true and false trails throughout this chapter, once you know how things turn out later. She does it all quite cleverly, conveying by the opinions of other characters what things the reader should pay most attention to - even if not everything that is highlighted is the most important (or truest) thing. It's brilliantly done.

The moral of JULIUS CAESAR

2011-05-26T22:40:00.000-04:00

M has been reading Julius Caesar in class, and she has a test on Acts I, II & III tomorrow. She's been ranting for days about how Caesar should have listened to his wife, Calpurnia, when she warned him that she had a dream that he'd be killed on the Ides of March.

Tonight, she and a friend are studying via instant message.

M just informed me that "the moral of Julius Caesar is 'always listen to your woman'."

Gosh, I love teens.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 5 (Chapter 23)

2011-05-25T14:13:00.001-04:00

Oh, Emma!

Emma's self-absorption here at the start of the chapter is sickening, yes? She deliberately sets out to restrict Harriet from reattaching herself to the Martin family - even to the mother and sisters - and while we are given to understand that the Martins feel snubbed by the shortness of the visit and Harriet feels sad that it was cut off, the narrator focuses on Emma's feelings: how Emma feels badly for what she's doing here, behaving as a sort of puppet-master toward Harriet, who continues to dance to Emma's tune.

Enter Frank Churchill, Stage Left Even

It's wonderful to see how news about Frank Churchill's imminent arrival travels. Emma calls at Randalls to find the Westons are from home, only to meet them in the lane - they're returning from Hartfield, where they've told Mr Woodhouse their news: Frank is coming for a two-week stay. Mr Weston, ever the optimist, is thrilled, since a fortnight is much longer than the two or three days they might have gotten from Frank at Christmas. Even Mrs Weston seems convinced that Frank will actually arrive tomorrow.

Only as it turns out, Frank arrived that very day - something Emma learnt by stepping into the parlour at Hartfield the next day around noon, only to find Mr Weston and Frank Churchill were already there, calling on her father. It's obvious to everyone that Frank Churchill was extremely anxious to get to Highbury after all.

The Frank Churchill so long talked of, so high in interest, was actually before her--he was presented to her, and she did not think too much had been said in his praise; he was a very good looking young man; height, air, address, all were unexceptionable, and his countenance had a great deal of the spirit and liveliness of his father's; he looked quick and sensible. She felt immediately that she should like him; and there was a well-bred ease of manner, and a readiness to talk, which convinced her that he came intending to be acquainted with her, and that acquainted they soon must be.

Frank immediately ingratiates himself with Emma by praising Mrs Weston in eloquent terms and in expressing happiness over his father's marriage. And while he acknowledges that he knows Mrs Weston used to be Emma's governess, Miss Taylor, he never speaks of her as if she were anything less than a wonderful gentlewoman. I put this here now because I intend to contrast it later with Mrs Elton's words on the same topic:

He got as near as he could to thanking her for Miss Taylor's merits, without seeming quite to forget that in the common course of things it was to be rather supposed that Miss Taylor had formed Miss Woodhouse's character, than Miss Woodhouse Miss Taylor's. And at last, as if resolved to qualify his opinion completely for travelling round to its object, he wound it all up with astonishment at the youth and beauty of her person.

"Elegant, agreeable manners, I was prepared for," said he; "but I confess that, considering every thing, I had not expected more than a very tolerably well-looking woman of a certain age; I did not know that I was to find a pretty young woman in Mrs Weston."

"You cannot see too much perfection in Mrs Weston for my feelings," said Emma; "were you to guess her to be eighteen, I should listen with pleasure; but she would be ready to quarrel with you for using such words. Don't let her imagine that you have spoken of her as a pretty young woman."

"I hope I should know better," he replied; "no, depend upon it, (with a gallant bow,) that in addressing Mrs Weston I should understand whom I might praise without any danger of being thought extravagant in my terms."

Frank's closing line indicates that Mrs Weston is only too happy to hear praise of Emma, and reminds her of her suspicion that the Westons would like to see a match between her and Frank. (And, of course, that is precisely the case, as we've been aware since Mr Knightley and Mrs Weston discussed Emma early on in the book.) Emma believes Frank is aware of their intention as well, and wonders whether he acquiesces in that wish or not. Interestingly, Emma does not at that moment examine her own feelings to determine whether she likes the idea or not; instead, she's aware that Mr Weston is watching, and thankful that her father is oblivious, and that's pretty much it.

When Mr Weston rises to go, he drops a hint that Frank ought to stay, but Frank joins him in departing, saying that he must make a call on Jane Fairfax, whom he has met in Weymouth. After asserting that he must make the call and getting his father involved in discussing Miss Bates, he immediately backs off and says it could wait for another time. I very much love Mr Weston's reply, which is a quote I sometimes use in my daily life:

"What is right to be done cannot be done too soon."

Ain't that the truth? Mr Weston continues on to say that Frank must call at once, explaining the change in Jane's social standing. When Frank met her before, she was his social equal, in the company of the Campbells. Now she is inferior, being the poor relation of poor gentlewomen. Mr Weston is quick to point out that Frank must pay Jane additional attention because of that, so as not to be seen to slight her for having fallen in social status. In that, he is far kinder than Emma was at the start of the chapter when dealing with Harriet and Emma's perception of Harriet's status.

Clever Jane Austen, bookending your chapter in that manner. To say nothing of putting the better advice in the mouth of the kind, but bordering on comical, Mr Weston, rather than in the mouth of the main character, who is seeking to justify snubbing people who are entirely nice and deserving of being treated well.

Mr Woodhouse really is good-hearted, if misguided.

I have to laugh at Mr Woodhouse's solicitousness. He's ready to send a servant with Frank to show him how to get to the Bates's house, since Mr Weston is going to stop across the street from it. And how can one not laugh at Mr Weston's practical rejoinder? "My good friend, this is quite unnecessary; Frank knows a puddle of water when he sees it, and as to Mrs Bates's, he may get there from the Crown in a hop, step, and jump."

With so much going on - Mr Elton off to be married, Jane Fairfax and now Frank Churchill come to Highbury - one gets the sense that things are being shaken up quite nicely. I look forward to seeing what comes next!

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 4 (Chapter 22)

2011-05-24T20:50:00.000-04:00

Mr Elton's wedding plans

Mr Elton returns to visit everyone and be smug about his conquest - a woman with 10,000 pounds to her name, who is more than happy to marry him and move to Highbury. He pays no attention to Emma and is obnoxious to Harriet, and then leaves to get married.

Emma begins to question what she ever found pleasing about him, and on learning more about his intended spouse - a Miss Augusta Hawkins - she believes that Harriet is inferior to Miss Hawkins only in lacking money. (We shall soon have a chance to see whether Emma proves right on that count.) Turns out Miss Hawkins's father was in trade as a merchant, her uncle is an attorney, and her sister is married to a guy who owns two carriages, and that's pretty much it for her backstory. (I can't help but notice that her background is not too different from some Austen characters we already know - the Bennet sisters had an uncle in trade and another that was an attorney, after all; but they were the daughters of a gentleman, and Miss Hawkins is not.)

Poor Harriet!

Could she but have given Harriet her feelings about it all! She had talked her into love; but, alas! she was not so easily to be talked out of it. The charm of an object to occupy the many vacancies of Harriet's mind was not to be talked away. He might be superseded by another; he certainly would indeed; nothing could be clearer; even a Robert Martin would have been sufficient; but nothing else, she feared, would cure her. Harriet was one of those, who, having once begun, would be always in love.

LOL! The narrator's points here are hilarious, telling us much about Harriet - and, in fact, largely nailing Harriet's character with that final observation: Harriet "would be always in love" is a fine bit of foreshadowing, whether Emma realizes it or not.

Emma continues to meddle

Harriet has been invited to call on Elizabeth Martin, and Emma is scheming as to how to have Harriet call without the possibility of Harriet spending too much time with the Martins. She doesn't really want Harriet to renew her acquaintance with the Martins, even though she understands the necessity of Harriet paying the call, because she believes Harriet will renew her feelings for Mr Robert Martin, marry him, and then Emma would be "forced" to cut off the relationship.

Mind you, the only person who would force her to cut off that relationship is Emma herself, but she doesn't seem to pay much attention to that.

The Town That Fooled the British by Lisa & Robert Papp

2011-05-24T15:47:00.001-04:00

With Memorial Day coming up, it seemed a fitting time to post my review of this book that commemorates a real event that happened during one of our often-overlooked national conflicts, the War of 1812. My thanks to the good folks at Sleeping Bear Press for sending me a review copy of The Town That Fooled the British: A War of 1812 Story by Lisa Papp, illustrated by Robert Papp, which tells a slightly fictionalized by truly fascinating story of how the town of St. Michaels, Maryland, avoided obliteration at the hands of the British Royal Navy during the War of 1812.

Lisa Papp has invented a young boy named Henry Middle, who gets himself right into the middle of the action. He is the reader's proxy, a way of seeing and being invested in this true story of how a small shipbuilding town along the Chesapeake River managed to avoid destruction through the clever use of lanterns. It turns out that when the British sailed up the river, intent on wiping out the source of so many of the Baltimore clippers that were giving the Royal Navy so much trouble, they were fortunate to be shrouded in darkness and fog. It turns out that the elements that assisted them in what they thought was a sneak attack also worked against them, as they collected as many lanterns as they could and hung them in the trees outside of town. The British shelled the heck out of those trees, but the town and its ships were all safe.

The title of the book is drawn from the motto of the Town of St. Michaels, which I believe I now have to visit, as it's been well-preserved in its colonial splendor. Below is the art from the first spread of the book.

You can see much of the rest of the artwork at Robert Papp's online gallery for this book; just click on the boxes to embiggen the picture and see the whole thing. (Is it terribly wrong to say that I think fictional Henry Middle's fictional father is hot? Probably, but it's still true.)

I very much enjoyed learning about the history of the Town of St. Michaels, and I appreciate the Papps' decision to highlight this event from the War of 1812. As the note at the back of the book points out, that particular war was important not only for preserving the United States' independence from England, but also for the creation of iconic symbols like Uncle Sam, the Star-Spangled Banner, and the name for the White House. A must-read for kids who are interested in history, and a great follow-up for afficianados of the Revolutionary War. Because it contains a fictionalized main character, I suppose the book may be characterized by some as historical fiction, but given its high content of historical fact, I'm willing to consider it creative nonfiction. (YMMV.)

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 3 (Chapter 21)

2011-05-23T20:56:00.000-04:00

Mr Knightley has come over for a chat - he's got business with Mr Woodhouse, and he wants to talk to Emma. First, he wants to find out how she liked Jane Fairfax - and he's disappointed that she's not happier with Jane, whom he defends as being reserved or diffident (a word he's using in the sense of being slow to talk). Notice how he moves chairs to be closer to Emma? (I sure did!)

Mr Elton is to be married

Of course, Mr Knightley wants to tell Emma a piece of gossip that he's heard in town, only he gets scooped by Miss Bates and Miss Fairfax. Of course, Miss Bates manages to hold two conversations simultaneously - one on the haunch of pork that Emma sent to them, interspersed with information about Mr Elton and inquiries as to how Mr Knightley knew about Elton's pending marriage.

Mr Knightley, who was smart enough to figure out what Emma was up to, cannot help giving a bit of detail to Emma as a way of tweaking her:

"It was short--merely to announce--but cheerful, exulting, of course."--Here was a sly glance at Emma. "He had been so fortunate as to--I forget the precise words--one has no business to remember them. The information was, as you state, that he was going to be married to a Miss Hawkins. By his style, I should imagine it just settled."

Everyone in the neighborhood knew Mr Elton had a thing for Emma

It becomes quite clear from Miss Bates's comments that the entire town gossiped about how Mr Elton aspired to marry Emma.

"--A Miss Hawkins!--Well, I had always rather fancied it would be some young lady hereabouts; not that I ever--Mrs Cole once whispered to me--but I immediately said, 'No, Mr Elton is a most worthy young man--but'--In short, I do not think I am particularly quick at those sort of discoveries. I do not pretend to it. What is before me, I see. At the same time, nobody could wonder if Mr Elton should have aspired--Miss Woodhouse lets me chatter on, so good-humouredly. She knows I would not offend for the world."

Harriet's news, and her reaction to Mr Elton's marriage

When Harriet comes busting into Hartfield with news, Emma is certain that Harriet has already learned of Mr Elton's plans, but no: Harriet's news is that she ran into Robert Martin in Highbury as she took shelter from the rain inside Ford's (a local emporium). In fact, he came in with his sister, Elizabeth, who was perfectly ready and willing to ignore Harriet, but Robert Martin talks his sister into saying hello to Harriet, then does the same himself - and then runs after her to warn her not to take a certain route to Hartfield because he was sure it was flooded. What a nice man! Emma - you idiot - he's such a great guy, and based on his conduct, so much kinder and better mannered than Mr Elton - and I say that based on Mr Elton's conduct thus far, and without reference to what is to come!

Even Emma realizes that the Martins have acted really well, and that their behaviour is that of people with genuine feelings for Harriet. Of course, Emma talks herself out of pitying them overly much, based on her conviction that they have disappointed hopes and ambitions, because in delusional Emma-land, she thinks the Martin family hoped to elevate themselves by their association with Harriet. (Only Emma would - or does - think that the Martins were "lower" than her friend Harriet on the social hierarchy.)

In the end, Emma cuts Harriet off by springing the Elton news on her - and Harriet initially takes the news far better than Emma had anticipated, because she's still so twitterpated about having run into the Martins.

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 2 (Chapter 20)

2011-05-22T22:48:00.000-04:00

More about Jane Fairfax

Earlier today, I summed up what we need to know about Jane Fairfax - and it still holds. This chapter is where Austen gives us most of Jane Fairfax's backstory, which includes the fact that the Campbells (her foster family) can't afford to support her forever, so she's been trained to be a governess.

As was implied by Emma in Chapter 19, Jane is far better-looking than Miss Campbell, and Austen domments that the Campbells all must really like her, since they keep her around despite that. Now, however, Jane Fairfax's friend is married, and Jane is 21 - the age at which she planned on starting her teaching career.

[S]he had now reached the age which her own judgment had fixed on for beginning. She had long resolved that one-and-twenty should be the period. With the fortitude of a devoted novitiate, she had resolved at one-and-twenty to complete the sacrifice, and retire from all the pleasures of life, of rational intercourse, equal society, peace and hope, to penance and mortification for ever.

Austen's narrator tells us how loath Jane Fairfax is to actually start her career as a governess. And no wonder - she has to stop being treated as a gentlewoman in society and become an employee. Even though she's still the same person with the same experience, she will step down in the social hierarchy once she starts to work for her living, and she knows it. The narrator assures us that Jane Fairfax has told her aunt the truth behind her deicision not to go to Ireland (although she was invited), but she's also withheld some truths. It'll be a while until we find out what those are.

Emma doesn't like Jane Fairfax

Emma was sorry;--to have to pay civilities to a person she did not like through three long months!--to be always doing more than she wished, and less than she ought! Why she did not like Jane Fairfax might be a difficult question to answer; Mr Knightley had once told her it was because she saw in her the really accomplished young woman, which she wanted to be thought herself; and though the accusation had been eagerly refuted at the time, there were moments of self-examination in which her conscience could not quite acquit her. But "she could never get acquainted with her: she did not know how it was, but there was such coldness and reserve--such apparent indifference whether she pleased or not--and then, her aunt was such an eternal talker!--and she was made such a fuss with by every body!--and it had been always imagined that they were to be so intimate--because their ages were the same, every body had supposed they must be so fond of each other." These were her reasons--she had no better.

When Emma sees Jane, she realizes that Jane is extremely elegant and pretty and all the things that Emma actually admires. She resolves to stop disliking her, at the same time creating an imaginary life for Jane Fairfax that doesn't really exist - she imagines that Jane was in love with Mr Dixon herself, and is avoiding Ireland in an attempt to get over him.

After an evening together, Emma quickly forgets that she's decided not to dislike Jane Fairfax - Miss Bates makes her nuts and Jane Fairfax proves to be so superior to Emma when playing the piano and - worst of all - Jane Fairfax is reserved and doesn't dish about the Dixons or - worse still - about Frank Churchill, whom she has actually met at Weymouth.

"Emma could not forgive her." LOL!

Emma, Volume II, Chapter 1 (Chapter 19)

2011-05-22T19:14:00.001-04:00

We have moved into the second volume of Emma. Those of you with a book that does not follow the Volume/Chapter numbering system can rely on the parenthetical designation to keep track of where we are.

In this chapter, Emma is so very sick of hearing about Mr Elton from Harriet that, in desperation, she is quite willing to visit the Bateses. She knows it is something she should do more often, but she can't usually be bothered.

She had had many a hint from Mr Knightley and some from her own heart, as to her deficiency--but none were equal to counteract the persuasion of its being very disagreeable,--a waste of time--tiresome women--and all the horror of being in danger of falling in with the second-rate and third-rate of Highbury, who were calling on them for ever, and therefore she seldom went near them. But now she made the sudden resolution of not passing their door without going in--observing, as she proposed it to Harriet, that, as well as she could calculate, they were just now quite safe from any letter from Jane Fairfax.

Mrs Bates is the widow of a vicar, and her unmarried daughter, Miss Bates, resides with her. Over the years, the Bateses have fallen on rather hard times. They live on a fixed income that will never go up, and as prices rise, they will end up worse off. (This point will be forcefully made by Mr Knightley in Volume III of the book.) Miss Bates, although good-natured, is a chatterbox, as Austen makes plain not only by telling us what Emma thinks of her, but also by showing us some of Miss Bates's conversation.

A crossed letter

Miss Bates moves from discussing the Coles to Mr Elton to Jane Fairfax in rapid order. Her mention of Jane's letter - and of what a typical letter from Jane involves - includes a reference to the letter being crossed and to "checkerwork". Below is an example of a "crossed" or "checkerwork" letter from Jane Austen to her sister, Cassandra, who was at the time staying at Godmersham Park with their brother Edward Austen Knight's family:

You can see the neat lines of Austen's handwriting, and how they start to tighten up as she nears the end of the page, as well as seeing the "crossed" lines created when she turned the paper ninety degrees to the left and started writing additional lines crossing the original ones she put down.

Jane Fairfax, the Campbells and the Dixons

Jane Fairfax was the companion of Miss Campbell - now Mrs Dixon - and often served as her chaperon when Miss Campbell and Mr Dixon were courting. Colonel and Mrs Campbell paid for Jane's education, the colonel being a friend of Jane's deceased father's. The Dixons, now married, have gone to Ireland on their honeymoon, leaving Jane with the Campbells, who pretty much raised her and are akin to foster parents. The Campbells are going to Ireland to visit the Dixons, and Jane has been invited to join them, but has chosen instead to come stay with her aunt and grandmother in Highbury. Meanwhile, Miss Bates relates an incident that happened when Jane was in Weymouth, when Mr Dixon kept her from falling out of a boat. We are told as well that Jane Fairfax caught a cold back on November 7th, which she is using has her excuse to come to Highbury and to avoid the trip to Ireland.

If you've already sorted all that out, then I apologize, but I have to tell you that Miss Bates's manner of chattering about these things - and the way Austen stretches out her narrative about Jane Fairfax, so that some of this information isn't in this chapter - can make it hard to figure.

Brother Sun, Sister Moon by Katherine Paterson, illus by Pamela Dalton

2011-05-22T16:55:00.001-04:00

I begin this review by stating that I am not now nor have I ever been Roman Catholic. Still, I have quite a soft spot for Saint Francis of Assisi, whom I'm used to seeing in statue forms in gardens. I've read a few of his prayers before, and find them to be the sort of thing I can get behind - a call for respect for all living creatures and peaceful coexistence with our natural world.

It was with complete delight that I opened a package that arrived yesterday from the kind folks at Chronicle Books to find a copy of the new picture book (which has been marked one of Kirkus Review's "Top 26 Books at BEA", along with my friend Linda Urban's forthcoming novel, Hound Dog True, which I can assure you is spectacular. But I digress.).

Saint Francis lived at the turn of the 13th century (1181-1226), and some of his writings include pieces written in Umbrian (a dialect related to Italian) rather than in church Latin, since Francis of Assisi wanted his words to be understood by everyone, not just the educated members of society who could parse Latin. One of those pieces, written during the final two years of his life, was his Laudes Creaturarum, or "Praise Song of the Creatures", which has become known over the centuries as The Canticle of the Sun.

Award-winning author Katherine Paterson has taken the text of The Canticle of the Sun and recast the words slightly in what is billed as a "reimagination" of Saint Francis's text. The whole of Saint Francis's prayer is included near the end of the book, in a translation done from the Umbrian text into English by Bill Barrett. Barrett's translation of the stanzas relating to "Brother Sun" and "Sister Moon" reads:

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day: and you give light through him. And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars: in the heavens you have made them, precious and beautiful.

Katherine Paterson has streamlined some of the language and elaborated on other parts:

We praise you for our Brother Sun,
who in his radiant dawning
every day reminds us that it was
you who brought forth light.

We praise you for Sister Moon and all
our Sister Stars, who clothe the night
with their beauty and, like you,
watch over us while we sleep.

Each of the stanzas has a double spread within the book, and is accompanied by incredible painted, cut-paper illustrations created by Pamela Dalton using the German "Scherenschnitte" technique. Most of the pages contain the sort of colors seen on the cover, with the exception of the spread devoted to "Sister Moon":

Is that not gorgeous?

The book is a work of art throughout, with its black backgrounds to showcase the cut-paper artwork, it's use of color and imagery, and, of course, the beautiful language of Paterson's interpretation of Saint Francis's words. I am especially glad for the full interpretation of The Canticle of the Creatures by Saint Francis of Assisi, as translated by Bill Barrett, and for the notes by Paterson and Dalton about their process and their feelings about working on this project.

I highly recommend this book for parents interested in exploring issues of faith and/or interconnectedness with their children (or for adult readers interested in this prayer and/or Saint Francis), for libraries, and for fans of cut-paper illustrations and/or Paterson's works. Truly one of the loveliest picture books I've seen so far this year.

If you'd like to see some more of the interior spreads AND learn how Pamela Dalton went about creating the art, I encourage you to watch this video:

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 18

2011-05-21T23:51:00.001-04:00

Mr Frank Churchill is not coming after all.

Roll call of reactions

Mr Weston: Half an hour of disappointment, followed by a cup more than half full of optimism that his eventual visit will be at a much better time, etc.

Mrs Weston: Far deeper disappointment, since she now anticipates that Frank will continue to bait and switch as to the time of his visit.

Emma: Her real reaction is "Who cares if he comes or not?", but, wanting to appear as usual, she feigns disappointment equal to that of Mrs Weston's.

Mr Knightley: Oh, Mr Knightley. Do you understand your own reaction yourself, sir? I rather think you may not, and that were you speaking with anyone but Emma, you might not have gotten quite as riled up. But I digress.

Whatever the reason, Mr Knightley is inclined to be really, truly put out with Mr Churchill.

"The Churchills are very likely in fault," said Mr Knightley, coolly; "but I dare say he might come if he would."

"I do not know why you should say so. He wishes exceedingly to come; but his uncle and aunt will not spare him."

"I cannot believe that he has not the power of coming, if he made a point of it. It is too unlikely, for me to believe it without proof."

"How odd you are! What has Mr Frank Churchill done, to make you suppose him such an unnatural creature?"

"I am not supposing him at all an unnatural creature, in suspecting that he may have learnt to be above his connexions, and to care very little for any thing but his own pleasure, from living with those who have always set him the example of it. It is a great deal more natural than one could wish, that a young man, brought up by those who are proud, luxurious, and selfish, should be proud, luxurious, and selfish too. If Frank Churchill had wanted to see his father, he would have contrived it between September and January. A man at his age--what is he?--three or four-and-twenty--cannot be without the means of doing as much as that. It is impossible."

"That's easily said, and easily felt by you, who have always been your own master. You are the worst judge in the world, Mr Knightley, of the difficulties of dependence. You do not know what it is to have tempers to manage."

"It is not to be conceived that a man of three or four-and-twenty should not have liberty of mind or limb to that amount. He cannot want money--he cannot want leisure. We know, on the contrary, that he has so much of both, that he is glad to get rid of them at the idlest haunts in the kingdom. We hear of him for ever at some watering-place or other. A little while ago, he was at Weymouth. This proves that he can leave the Churchills."

"Yes, sometimes he can."

"And those times are whenever he thinks it worth his while; whenever there is any temptation of pleasure."

"It is very unfair to judge of any body's conduct, without an intimate knowledge of their situation. Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a family, can say what the difficulties of any individual of that family may be. We ought to be acquainted with Enscombe, and with Mrs Churchill's temper, before we pretend to decide upon what her nephew can do. He may, at times, be able to do a great deal more than he can at others."

"There is one thing, Emma, which a man can always do, if he chooses, and that is, his duty; not by manoeuvring and finessing, but by vigour and resolution. It is Frank Churchill's duty to pay this attention to his father. He knows it to be so, by his promises and messages; but if he wished to do it, it might be done. A man who felt rightly would say at once, simply and resolutely, to Mrs Churchill--'Every sacrifice of mere pleasure you will always find me ready to make to your convenience; but I must go and see my father immediately. I know he would be hurt by my failing in such a mark of respect to him on the present occasion. I shall, therefore, set off to-morrow.'--If he would say so to her at once, in the tone of decision becoming a man, there would be no opposition made to his going."

Their argument continues in this vein a while longer, then shifts a bit as Mr Knightley begins to become still more critical of Frank Churchill's manners and conduct. And, in doing so, he invokes something I mentioned back in Chapter 2 about Frank's association with the French. First, there's the association of the word "Frank" with "French", but here Mr Knightley, one of the finest models in all of Austen of what a proper English gentleman is or should be, uses a French word to disparage Frank Churchill:

"No, Emma, your amiable young man can be amiable only in French, not in English. He may be very 'aimable,' have very good manners, and be very agreeable; but he can have no English delicacy towards the feelings of other people: nothing really amiable about him."

Mr Knightley is likely using the now-archaic meaning of the word, which is "admirable" (given the context); he is contrasting it to the French word aimable, meaning likeable or affable. He claims that Frank Churchill may fit the French term - meaning that he's agreeable and well-liked - but that he does not merit the English word, which makes him an admirable person who is actually courteous and kind to others. This drawing of a distinction between English and French is not the last we shall see of a French-related analysis of Frank Churchill's character, nor of Mr Knightley's (dare I say knight-like?) championship of all things English.

Austen leaves us with this somewhat curious conclusion to the conversation - nay, argument - between Emma and Mr Knightley:

"I will say no more about him," cried Emma, "you turn every thing to evil. We are both prejudiced; you against, I for him; and we have no chance of agreeing till he is really here."

"Prejudiced! I am not prejudiced."

"But I am very much, and without being at all ashamed of it. My love for Mr and Mrs Weston gives me a decided prejudice in his favour."

"He is a person I never think of from one month's end to another," said Mr Knightley, with a degree of vexation, which made Emma immediately talk of something else, though she could not comprehend why he should be angry.

To take a dislike to a young man, only because he appeared to be of a different disposition from himself, was unworthy the real liberality of mind which she was always used to acknowledge in him; for with all the high opinion of himself, which she had often laid to his charge, she had never before for a moment supposed it could make him unjust to the merit of another.

I believe that Emma is onto something here: Mr Knightley is acting a bit out of character in this instance: he has formed an ill opinion of Frank Churchill for his refusal to come and visit the Westons, especially because Mr Knightley sees it as a slap in the face for Mrs Weston - arguing, as he does, that were she a woman of consequence (and not a former governess), Frank Churchill would've gotten his tail over to Randalls for a visit much sooner. He believes Frank will be a bit of a coxcomb and that he is spoiled and rather inclined to be the center of attention. (We shall have the opportunity to find out whether Mr Knightley's assessment is correct or not, of course.)

However, there's something a bit more going on here, too, because Mr Knightley is disingenuous in saying that he does not think of Frank Churchill. After all, he's just spent nearly an entire chapter of the book arguing about Frank Churchill with Emma - and taking an increasingly negative viewpoint in the argument as Emma comes to the young man's defense. Part of his annoyance comes directly from Emma's desire to approve of Frank Churchill, and many readers, myself included, see this as evidence that Mr Knightley is a bit jealous in this instance, and that (moreover) his ire and irritation increase the more Emma defends Frank Churchill.

My poetry reading on Monday night

2011-05-20T13:08:00.000-04:00

On Monday night, I was the featured reader at Poetry in the Round, a monthly poetry group that meets at the Barnes & Noble in Marlton, NJ. Next month's featured reader is my friend Bruce Niedt, and I encourage those of you who live near enough to make it to the meeting on June 20th to come on out for it - Bruce is an extremely talented and prolific poet who has studied with some really exceptional poets, and his work is really moving into a whole new level. I'd say I'm digressing, but really, "go see Bruce Niedt" is probably the most important take-away from this post.

Back to Monday . . .

I was delighted to have a fairly large crowd at the reading. Some of my fellow poets were there, as well as my wonderful mother-in-law and one of her friends. I was tickled pink that Chris (who just got his master's in English and was my favorite barrista at Borders before it closed) turned up with his girlfriend, and Angela not only came, but also brought M, her older son, along. He liked a couple of my poems, but he was rolling at several of the ones Bruce Niedt read during the open reading that followed my reading. (Further support for my assertion that you will love Bruce's work.)

I read an assortment of poems, including "Troubled Water" and "Socratic Method", both of which can be found over at Chantarelle's Notebook, where I am (for the moment) still the featured poet. "Troubled Water" appears in Breaking Waves: An Anthology for Gulf Coast Relief, an ebook that is still available for purchase at Book View Cafe as well as in a Kindle edition at Amazon.com for a mere $4.99. All proceeds benefit ongoing Gulf Coast cleanup efforts. And yes, I gave that same infomercial during my reading - lest we all forget how we humans came close to breaking the ocean only last year.

I read quite a lot of poems, actually, including some that I wrote as writing exercises with Angela, and a couple that I wrote early last month in response to the prompts given by Robert Lee Brewer over at his Poetic Asides blog for Writer's Digest. Some of the poems you may have seen here or elsewhere on the web - such as "Shelling Peas" and "Us"; some are so new that, prior to Monday, nobody had seen or heard them but me.

I am extremely grateful to everyone who showed up on Monday, and to Barney Oldfield, the wonderful poet who runs the Poetry in the Round group for inviting me to read. And now, I'm looking forward to June 20th, when Bruce Niedt will be reading at 7:30. I'll probably remind you about it when the date gets closer - just in case any of you can come meet me and hang out!

Some takeaways from the 2011 NESCBWI Conference

2011-05-19T22:47:00.003-04:00

These are generally in order of my attendance at things, since I'm skimming my notes in order to prepare this particular post (goodness, but that was alliterative!). Also, my notes only cover speeches and breakout sessions, so while I had a blast at dinner on Friday and Saturday evening, at lunch on Saturday and Sunday, and hanging out in the lobby with friends (at various times), I shan't try to summarize what happened then

Jane Yolen is a goddess.

That is a remark that would have been made about her by someone else, but that someone else didn't get to make it, so Jane shared it herself, to many laughs. It was repeated more than once during the conference, and seems as good a place as any to start, since Jane was the first keynote speaker. Her speech was about figuring out how to read rejection letters, and it was witty and wise. What really stuck with me was something she mentioned almost in passing: that in the year in which she first got serious about submitting her poetry, she received 113 rejections. My reaction to this was immediate, and goes like this: "Holy shit! I'm not submitting enough!" I am quite possibly singular in that response, since the intended takeaway, which I also appreciate, is that one must keep going in the face of rejection. Still, I'm going to up my submissions significantly.

Loree Griffin Burns on getting dirty.

Loree's workshop was on research for nonfiction writing, and she was quick to note that there's no one "right" way to research nonfiction projects. She talked about finding sources and such, but I especially liked her advice about getting dirty - a phrase she uses to describe doing the fieldwork when it's possible. Here's a quote from Dinty W. Moore that she shared that really resonated with me: "If you are writing about the world of whitewater rafting, you should probably get into a raft." Ain't that the truth?

J.L. Bell is a savvy plotter.

The handout John gave us contained what appeared at first blush to be the world's most confusing flow chart, but which proved to be readily understandable once he talked us through it. I have a sort of teacher-crush on John, who breaks things down and explains them extraordinarily well (and rather in the manner I'd do it myself, which is probably why I get so much out of his sessions). He quoted from Aristotle's Poetics and from Alan Moore (creator of the Watchmen comics), and I found gobs of things to help me (a) write my own novel and (b) critique for friends. I cannot pull a particular quote out for you, but man, what a useful session!

Tomie de Paola is a genius.

A genius is "someone who comes up with something unique and special and memorable". I can't remember if that's something Tomie said, or something that was said about him, but either way, it fits. I enjoyed listening to his keynote, which told how he got involved in illustrating. Like so many illustrators I've met, he's known he wanted to be (or was) an artist since the age of four. In response to the question, "what comes first, the image or the words?", Tomie said, "The words, the words, always the words."

Lin Oliver's keynote was fabulous.

I chose the adjective purposefully, since Lin presented us with a series of ten "fables" - each of which was a true story of an SCBWI author's journey to publication. She would first read a letter from the artist, then provide us with morals for each story. Most (but not all, although I think it's because she decided to stop repeating herself, and not because it didn't apply) had the first moral of "Do the work." Isn't that the truth? Other morals had to do with toughing out rejection, not worrying about how long it takes, and keeping going. It was inspirational and motivational and more, and I really wanted to give her a hug afterwards, but alas, it will have to wait until next time.

Sarah Aronson helped me with my sagging middle.

I took Sarah's workshop on subplots and found it extraordinarily useful. It overlapped slightly with John Bell's plot seminar earlier in the day, building on what had already been discussed. Not that they planned it that way. Heck, not that I planned it that way - I took John's workshop because I'll take anything he teaches, and I took Sarah's because of the topic. (They fit nicely with the final workshop I took, Erin Dionne's, but I'm getting ahead of myself.) I look forward to using what I learned in my own writing and in critiques, and to doing some of the exercises Sarah suggested.

Steven Mooser is tech savvy.

I really appreciated Steve's take on literacy in America. Where some people bemoan the death of reading, he sees plenty of hope: kids who are texting so much are learning to read, the same as kids who play computer games and more. He also spoke about the future of the publishing industry, using a rap group called Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All as a model for what's needed for success - talent, hard work, and a commitment to all aspects of their intellectual property.

Stacy Whitman knows how to build a world.

And she's not afraid to share what she knows. Her world-building workshop was a double session, and a fine way to spend a Sunday morning. Stacy maintains (rightly, I think) that world-building supports characterization, and not the other way around, and that it's important to focus on world-building as it touches our characters. There were some interesting exercises and I've got plenty to think about one of these days when my big Fantasy Novel Idea turns up. For now, I've got nothing.

Harold Underdown has a split personality.

Not. But he pretended to for purposes of his keynote speech about the state of the market for children's books and the world of e-books. Now, I have to confess to having heard a slightly earlier version of this same speech at the Eastern PA Fall Philly last September, so I didn't take nearly as many notes this time around. However, I applaud (and am therefore repeating) his closing exhortation to all of us to talk about the importance of stories and reading with everyone we can - friends, family, schools, states, Congress . . . you get the picture. He said we have a duty to CREATE and to ADVOCATE. Amen, Brother Harold.

Erin Dionne put the spotlight on minor characters.

I have a confession to make - I took Erin's workshop on humor last year, so when I saw the official title of her workshop this year (something about Frankenstein's Dog), I signed on up. I believe I was under the impression that it was about humor. *hangs head* Instead, it turned out to be about creating memorable minor characters - some of what she said overlapped a bit with what Sarah Aronson had taught, but most of it carried forward. Erin reminded us all that "minor characters are only minor in the context of this story - they are the stars in their own stories", and she passed out an exceedingly helpful worksheet that asked questions to help you figure out whether you really knew your minor characters or not. Again, I found it 100% applicable to my YA romance novel project, and to critiquing the work of friends. And I'm so pleased I got to attend it, even if my reason for being there in the first place was flawed. (My fault, not Erin's!)

I feel really fortunate with my workshop choices, since they were all good, but I totally lucked into a really useful primer on plot and characterization with the Bell/Aronson/Dionne trifecta. Those three workshops alone justified the cost of the conference, and that's before all the benefits I got from my other two breakout workshops and all the inspiration I derived from the keynotes, to say nothing of the fabulous conversation with other writers, agents, and editors. I thoroughly enjoyed each and every conversation I had while there.

My plans for catching up

2011-05-19T19:06:00.000-04:00

I still have to do a post with some take-aways from the NESCBWI Conference.
And one on my poetry reading on Monday.
And I'm still three days behind on Emma posts.
And I have other things to post about - books and thoughts and such. But they can mostly wait.

Here's the plan:

Tonight, the NESCBWI post.
Tomorrow, the poetry reading post (for Poetry Friday, because, after all, why not?) as well as at least one chapter of Emma.
Over the next several days, I will double up Emma posts over the next few days to get us caught back up to the chapter-a-day place, and we'll go from there.

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 16

2011-05-19T19:05:00.000-04:00

Here, finally, in Chapter 16 of Emma is where I first start to really, truly like Emma Woodhouse as a person. (Er, make that "as a character".) I mean, I've been enjoying the book from its start, and I found things to admire in Emma's character - she's high-spirited and extremely intelligent, and I know she's well-meaning - but there were always "buts". But she's so meddlesome. So high-handed. So certain she's right that she won't listen to others. (And so many of those "buts" are the sorts of flaws I possess myself, if I'm being honest, although hopefully not to Emma's degree. *cringes*)

The start of this chapter, however, reveals to us that Emma possesses true depth of feeling, and that her affection runs deep and her intentions truly were good, if misguided. Because while Emma is mortified over the way Mr Elton behaved in the carriage - taking her hand, speaking familiarly and declaring his (most unwelcome and unsought) love for her - she would readily accept far worse mortification and deal with far more presumption on Mr Elton's part if only she weren't hurting Harriet.

Emma sat down to think and be miserable.—It was a wretched business indeed!—Such an overthrow of every thing she had been wishing for!—Such a development of every thing most unwelcome!—Such a blow for Harriet! —that was the worst of all. Every part of it brought pain and humiliation, of some sort or other; but, compared with the evil to Harriet, all was light; and she would gladly have submitted to feel yet more mistaken—more in error—more disgraced by mis-judgment, than she actually was, could the effects of her blunders have been confined to herself.

"If I had not persuaded Harriet into liking the man, I could have borne any thing. He might have doubled his presumption to me—but poor Harriet!"

Emma thinks things over

Emma replays arrives at the correct conclusion up front - "She had taken up the idea, she supposed, and made every thing bend to it." But then she replays things in her mind to try to figure out whether she should have realized what Mr Elton was up to.

I will say that not only the Knightley brothers, but most readers, figure out what Mr Elton is up to, and that Emma's failure to realize his attentions are the result of her inexperience in dealing with flirtation and her active disinterest in the idea of romance at the start of the novel. Harriet, who is only 17 to Emma's 21, has more actual experience with men (in that respect) than does Emma, since Harriet has been in love with Mr Robert Martin and now with Mr Elton already, whereas Emma professes her disinterest in love. Perhaps it is because she is inexperienced that she did not recognize Elton's behavior. Or perhaps she has willfully turned a blind eye to it. Or it could be related to her final determination: that Mr Elton is NOT, in fact, in love with her, but was seeking a wealthy marriage partner and therefore turned his eyes toward her.

I rather suspect that the root of Emma's problems here is a mix of all three of the above possibilities, but I do want to point out some of Emma's conclusions in this scene:

1. In thinking of Mr Elton's riddle, she observes that "ready wit" seems to describe her, but that "soft eyes" does not - it suits Harriet. His charade actually suits neither of the ladies, when taken as a whole. I like Emma's honest assessment of things - her willingness to disclaim the softness that Mr Elton wanted to attribute to her shows that she sees herself clearly. She is too sharp to be soft, and she knows it.

2. She thought his unnecessarily gallant manners were the result of his less-than-stellar upbringing and pedigree, and she found them off-putting, but she just assumed it was him trying too hard to please her as Harriet's friend. She is mixing two things up here - his obsequiousness and her own naiveté - but it's worth mentioning that she really didn't see this coming.

3. The Knightley brothers are both credited for their penetration. John Knightley spotted Mr Elton's interest in Emma and warned her of it, and Mr Knightley had cautioned her that Elton would never marry someone like Harriet, but aspired to marry someone rich and with status.

4. Emma is embarrassed to learn that Mr Knightley was right, and she was wrong, yet she doesn't flinch from admitting that's the case.

5. Emma thinks less of Mr Elton now than she did before (when she thought him okay, in an "okay for my friend" sort of way). She has realized that he is not modest, but proud and conceited. Not kind and caring, but greedy and unconcerned with the feelings of others. She goes so far as to be "insulted by his hopes." While he was insulted by the thought of marrying someone as low in society as Harriet, Mr Elton is not in the same category on the hierarchy as Emma is, and in aspiring to marry her, he is trying to move up a couple of notches - and she can't believe his nerve.

He wanted to marry well, and having the arrogance to raise his eyes to her, pretended to be in love; but she was perfectly easy as to his not suffering any disappointment that need be cared for. There had been no real affection either in his language or manners. Sighs and fine words had been given in abundance; but she could hardly devise any set of expressions, or fancy any tone of voice, less allied with real love. She need not trouble herself to pity him. He only wanted to aggrandise and enrich himself; and if Miss Woodhouse of Hartfield, the heiress of thirty thousand pounds, were not quite so easily obtained as he had fancied, he would soon try for Miss Somebody else with twenty, or with ten.

Emma's consideration of Elton indirectly implicates Mr Knightley

6. Emma owns up to having inadvertently led Mr Elton on. She is rational enough to objectively assess her behavior towards him from his point of view, knowing what his wishes were, and she realizes that she probably encouraged him (unknowingly) and gave him the impression that she liked him.

Emma was obliged in common honesty to stop and admit that her own behaviour to him had been so complaisant and obliging, so full of courtesy and attention, as (supposing her real motive unperceived) might warrant a man of ordinary observation and delicacy, like Mr Elton, in fancying himself a very decided favourite. If she had so misinterpreted his feelings, she had little right to wonder that he, with self-interest to blind him, should have mistaken hers.

7. Emma resolves to give up match-making, realizing that's the source of the current situation.

8. She is really pulled up short by this turn of events, and is extremely remorseful, although her nature being what it is, she wakes up far more optimistic than she went to bed.

The distressing explanation she had to make to Harriet, and all that poor Harriet would be suffering, with the awkwardness of future meetings, the difficulties of continuing or discontinuing the acquaintance, of subduing feelings, concealing resentment, and avoiding eclat, were enough to occupy her in most unmirthful reflections some time longer, and she went to bed at last with nothing settled but the conviction of her having blundered most dreadfully.

To youth and natural cheerfulness like Emma's, though under temporary gloom at night, the return of day will hardly fail to bring return of spirits. The youth and cheerfulness of morning are in happy analogy, and of powerful operation; and if the distress be not poignant enough to keep the eyes unclosed, they will be sure to open to sensations of softened pain and brighter hope.

Emma got up on the morrow more disposed for comfort than she had gone to bed, more ready to see alleviations of the evil before her, and to depend on getting tolerably out of it.

The weather precludes Emma from attending church on Christmas Day (a church-going event in Regency times) or on Sunday, so she needn't run into Mr Elton, and with the weather as bad as it is, she can't get to Harriet (and vice-versa). Mr Knightley, however, is a Man of Action, and therefore still manages to get around despite the weather.

Speaking of Mr Knightley . . .

In assessing Mr Elton's inferiority - coming from a family of nobodies, etc. - the narrator makes clear that Emma's family's estate extends back generations. And frequent mention is made of Donwell Abbey, the home of Mr Knightley. "The landed property of Hartfield certainly was inconsiderable, being but a sort of notch in the Donwell Abbey estate, to which all the rest of Highbury belonged; but their fortune, from other sources, was such as to make them scarcely secondary to Donwell Abbey itself, in every other kind of consequence[.]" The estates adjoin, with Hartfield being the smaller piece nestled against Mr Knightley's property, but in fortune the Woodhouses are pretty much Mr Knightley's equals. Clever Jane Austen, foreshadowing using real estate!

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 15

2011-05-18T12:04:00.000-04:00

Mr Elton's presumption

Mr Elton presumes quite a bit in the course of this chapter, but for now, I'm talking about his conduct during the party at Randalls.

We are to understand that after dinner, Mr Woodhouse has immediately joined the ladies - cigars and port are not his cup of, er, tea, which is what he's imbibing in the parlor with the ladies. Mr Weston is quite happy to be entertaining the Knightley brothers and Mr Elton, so he's in no rush to rejoin the others; it is Mr Elton who turns up first, proceeding to sit between Emma and Mrs Weston, who had been having a bit of a tête-à-tête on a sofa.

Emma, who (Austen reminds us) has been thinking of Frank Churchill, has pretty much forgiven Mr Elton for being cavalier about Harriet's health earlier in the day - especially since he opens conversation by expressing concern for Harriet.

Emma's shock and indignation when it becomes clear that his mention of Harriet is merely a means of raising the issue of Emma's health is palpable. While endeavoring to claim some sort of right to guide her conduct, Elton is also (a) snubbing Harriet; (b) implicitly criticizing Emma for having visited her; (c) staking a claim to Emma - and doing so publicly by involving Mrs Weston in the conversation; (d) offering unsolicited (and unwelcome) advice. If you answered (e) ALL OF THE ABOVE, then award yourself a gold star.

A bit of etymology

We are told that Emma "had difficulty in behaving with temper", a word which here is used to mean "calmness of mind" or "a suitable balance or proportion of qualities". These days, we might say she is struggling to remain even-tempered, which is close to the meaning of temper as it existed in Austen's day. (To lose one's temper meant to lose one's cool (or evenness of mind), then as now; the word "temper" was not in and of itself a synonym for anger, as it is often used today - e.g., "She's got quite a temper.")

Mr Knightley, Man of Action

Now, those of you who remember my discussions of other Austen novels may realize that I've used the phrase "man of action" to describe Colonel Brandon in Sense & Sensibility, Captain Wentworth in Persuasion, Henry Tilney in Northanger Abbey, and Mr Darcy in Pride & Prejudice. Know what they all have in common? That's right - they are all heroes within their books. (Sorry, but Edward Ferrars does not cut it as a man of action, which pretty much suits Elinor just fine. And Lord knows that Edmund Bertram isn't a man of action either, although both of the Eds are also heroes; they also tend to come in last in polls of popular Austen heroes, with some of the "villains" faring better. But I digress.)

Mr Knightley, in the fine tradition of sexy Austen heroes (*wonders if Austen would cringe at that appellation*), is a man of action. Upon hearing that it is snowing outside, he (like everyone else) realizes that Mr Woodhouse and Isabella are likely to panic. While others fret and opine, he walks out the door and all the way down the "sweep" (a curved driveway in front of the house) to the Highbury road to determine how much snow is already on the ground. And he makes observations about how much snow is falling, and whether it looks to continue, and he talks with both of the coachmen to garner their opinions as well.

Mr Knightley's being a man of action bodes well for him as the likely successful love interest in this book. Mr Elton's continued presence on the couch does not.

When he comes in, Mr Knightley recommends that Emma and the rest of her party leave to go back to Hartfield, to which she agrees, and he then rings for the coaches. It shows (a) that he is thinking of what is best for not only Mr Woodhouse, but for Emma, who has to deal with her father's concerns and (b) that he is sensitive to others as well as full of good sense in general and (c) that he is, as we've already established, a man of action.

The Uncomfortable Coach Ride Home

In their haste to be gone, Mr Woodhouse and Isabella take Mr John Knightley with them, leaving Emma in the somewhat untenable position of being unchaperoned with Mr Elton inside a closed carriage. You will note that there's no mention of her being compromised as a result, although not for Mr Elton's lack of trying. [N.B. When Mr Elton is "actually making violent love to her", it means that he is declaring his love for her, accompanied by some hand-holding, and nothing more.]

Mr Elton: *does his best impression of Gene Kelly in the historical film nested in Singing in the Rain and/or of Gomez Addams* I love you, I love you, I love you.

Emma: O_o Are you off your rocker? You love Harriet, not me.

Mr Elton: WHAT? No effing way. It is you that I have the hots for, you ~~whose dowry I want~~ in whom I am interested. Only you.

Emma: O_o Are you off your rocker? I'm sure you love Harriet, not me.

Mr Elton: Um, NO. As if. I only ever thought of her as your friend. I have been assiduously courting you for weeks, AND YOU HAVE BEEN ENCOURAGING ME!

Emma: Yeah, well I only ever thought of you as Harriet's possible husband. Sheesh.

Mr Elton: Me? Marry Miss Smith? Are you off your rocker? I can do much better than a Miss Smith. She seems nice enough and I wish her well. I'm sure there are some mean who don't mind that . . . well, "Every body has their level: but as for myself, I am not, I think, quite so much at a loss. I need not so totally despair of an equal alliance, as to be addressing myself to Miss Smith!" And you most certainly did encourage me.

Emma: Did not.

Mr Elton: Did too. *seethes*

Emma: Ah. Here we are at the vicarage. ~~Don't let the carriage door hit you in the ass on the way out.~~ Goodnight, Mr Elton.

Mr Elton: *growls at her*

When Emma gets home, she finds that things there have sorted themselves out:

Mr. John Knightley, ashamed of his ill-humour, was now all kindness and attention; and so particularly solicitous for the comfort of her father, as to seem — if not quite ready to join him in a basin of gruel — perfectly sensible of its being exceedingly wholesome; and the day was concluding in peace and comfort to all their little party, except herself. —But her mind had never been in such perturbation; and it needed a very strong effort to appear attentive and cheerful till the usual hour of separating allowed her the relief of quiet reflection.

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 14

2011-05-17T21:30:00.001-04:00

Sometimes weeks and weeks fly by within the course of a single chapter. Notice, however, how Austen is spreading a single day across three chapters. This is one way of knowing that things are getting good. So many scenes are being set here that I feel a list coming on:

1. Mr Elton is making a pest of himself with Emma - constantly in her space, fawning over her. Enough so that Emma begins to worry that John Knightley is correct, and that Mr Elton has the hots for her.

2. Frank Churchill is one of the topics of conversation - first caught in snatches, then later discussed in detail: Frank is to visit in a fortnight (two weeks from now).

3. Emma is rather fond of the idea of falling in love with Frank Churchill. As young ladies sometimes do.

4. We hear more about Mrs Churchill, who lives and presides at an estate named Enscombe, and who is an ill-tempered attention whore and autodidact, from what can be ascertained.

5. The relationship between Emma and Mrs Weston is more clearly demonstrated - Mrs Weston is more candid with Emma than she is even with Isabella, who is older than Emma by six years, and she discusses her concerns that Frank Churchill will again put his visit off and disappoint his father, Mr Weston. Tucked inside this exchange is (a) Emma's belief that Frank Churchill has a duty to come and should be able to manage it and (b) some advice from Mrs Weston on getting one's facts straight before rendering judgment about what people are like and what they can and cannot do:

"He ought to come," said Emma. "If he could stay only a couple of days, he ought to come; and one can hardly conceive a young man's not having it in his power to do as much as that. A young woman, if she fall into bad hands, may be teazed, and kept at a distance from those she wants to be with; but one cannot comprehend a young man's being under such restraint, as not to be able to spend a week with his father, if he likes it."

"One ought to be at Enscombe, and know the ways of the family, before one decides upon what he can do," replied Mrs Weston. "One ought to use the same caution, perhaps, in judging of the conduct of any one individual of any one family; but Enscombe, I believe, certainly must not be judged by general rules: she is so very unreasonable; and every thing gives way to her."

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 13

2011-05-17T21:17:00.000-04:00

Isabella Woodhouse Knightley is having a delightful time, gadding about the neighborhood showing off her children and spending quiet evenings with her sister and father at her childhood home. Those of you who've had the dubious pleasure of growing tired of having (or being) company will appreciate this quote, I believe:
"It was a delightful visit;—perfect, in being much too short."

Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too . . .

There's to be a dinner party at Randalls - and the total guest list is the Westons, the entire Woodhouse-Knightley clan, Mr Knightley, Mr Elton, and Harriet Smith. In deference to Mr Woodhouse, who does not really like to leave his own home all that much, it is a small affair and will all be done very early.

Alas, on December 23rd, Harriet fell ill, complete with a sore throat, making her attendance at dinner on Christmas Eve out of the question. Emma visits Harriet anyhow, and is certain that Mr Elton will be heartbroken when he learns that Harriet won't be joining them for dinner. Goodness, but I love Austen's comedic timing here, since Emma immediately runs into Mr Elton and is then joined by her brother-in-law, Mr John Knightley, who is an astute observer.

Emma is gobsmacked that Mr Elton doesn't seem to give a fig for Harriet's condition and that he still wants to come to the dinner party. And she completely dismisses John Knightley's observation that he believes Mr Elton (a) is a bit insincere when he speaks to women and (b) has the hots for Emma, adding, moreover, that Emma ~~is a tease~~ appears to be flirting with Mr Elton and encouraging his attentions.

After a few minutes of entire silence between them, John Knightley began with—

"I never in my life saw a man more intent on being agreeable than Mr Elton. It is downright labour to him where ladies are concerned. With men he can be rational and unaffected, but when he has ladies to please, every feature works."

"Mr Elton's manners are not perfect," replied Emma; "but where there is a wish to please, one ought to overlook, and one does overlook a great deal. Where a man does his best with only moderate powers, he will have the advantage over negligent superiority. There is such perfect good-temper and good-will in Mr Elton as one cannot but value."

"Yes," said Mr John Knightley presently, with some slyness, "he seems to have a great deal of good-will towards you."

"Me!" she replied with a smile of astonishment, "are you imagining me to be Mr Elton's object?"

"Such an imagination has crossed me, I own, Emma; and if it never occurred to you before, you may as well take it into consideration now."

"Mr Elton in love with me! — What an idea!"

"I do not say it is so; but you will do well to consider whether it is so or not, and to regulate your behaviour accordingly. I think your manners to him encouraging. I speak as a friend, Emma. You had better look about you, and ascertain what you do, and what you mean to do."

"I thank you; but I assure you you are quite mistaken. Mr Elton and I are very good friends, and nothing more;" and she walked on, amusing herself in the consideration of the blunders which often arise from a partial knowledge of circumstances, of the mistakes which people of high pretensions to judgment are for ever falling into; and not very well pleased with her brother for imagining her blind and ignorant, and in want of counsel. He said no more.

Two carriages depart from Hartfield: In the first, Mr Woodhouse and Isabella. In the second, Emma and Mr John Knightley, who are to pick Mr Elton up on their way. John Knightley is in a sour mood, in part because it is cold and threatens to snow, and in part because he doesn't want to miss seeing his children after dinner. (Is not that rather sweet?) He spends the journey griping about the fact that they're going out - and though many of his reasons are sound, his complaints make me laugh because he's so dour.

And then Mr Elton bounds into the carriage and quickly moves on from any discussion of Harriet's condition to other topics.

I love how Alan Cumming plays Mr Elton in the 1996 version starring Gwyneth Paltrow. For yesterday's and today's chapters, start at 2:16 and stop at 4:55; otherwise, watch all the way through:

And yet, the BBC's 2009 version kept things closest to the book. And I adore the cast here. To stop roughly at the end of this chapter, stop at the 6:23 mark:

Wrap-up of last week's travels

2011-05-16T23:46:00.000-04:00

The retreat

I got to see my lovely Aunt Martha twice last week, once Thursday, when she came up to see her new stove and to join us for lunch (grilled cheese - NOM!), and again on Friday when she and my Uncle Jim came up for the weekend, arriving before we'd skipped out. It's always lovely to see both of them, since they are terrifically kind people and (as I remind Aunt Martha), true patrons of the arts. Not only do they allow us the use of their marvelously gorgeous space, but they ask questions about our work and are terrifically encouraging about it. *happy sigh*

The new stove did indeed arrive, although not Wednesday afternoon (as initially promised) nor Thursday morning (second promise). Still, once it was there, it was spectacular. And not just because it works - it has five burners on top and a cobalt-blue-on-the-inside oven.

All told, the retreat was a productive time for everyone. I can't report amounts for Jenn Hubbard () and Angela De Groot (), really, but I can say that Jenn finished the first draft of the novel she'd brought with her, after which she did a celebratory shimmy-shake all the way around the kitchen island to much applause from Angela and me. And then wrote thousands of words on a new project, plus working on revisions of some flash fiction pieces. And that Angela drafted two new picture books, worked on an ongoing nonfiction project and wrote at least two chapters of her sekrit project.

As for me, I wrote quite a number of new words for my ya romance novel - hundreds interspersed earlier in the book, and nearly five thousand at the end of my in-progress manuscript. There were a few unforeseen elements - places where the characters up and did (or said) something I hadn't known about beforehand - but I think I like them. It's interesting what your characters will decide to cough up when it comes time to write a scene - sometimes it's far more than I bargained for, but still . . . interesting.

The NESCBWI Conference

Goodness, but I love the NESCBWI Conference. I always meet friends there - both the kind I already know in person and the kind I've only met online so far. I love how friendly the folks in New England are. And how going to that conference feels a bit like homecoming for me, even though I'm not a native New Englander.

And this year, I loved how three of the workshops I'd selected went together exceptionally well, even though I hadn't really planned it that way. I'd picked J.L. Bell's workshop on plot because I will quite honestly take pretty much anything he teaches, that's how much I like being in his workshops. I think it's because he breaks things down in ways that are similar to mine, although he's talking about topics that are different from what I bother to break down. (Inside my head this makes perfect sense - not sure it makes sense to anyone else, however.) And I picked Sarah Aronson's workshop on subplots because I thought it might have application for my novel. And I picked Erin Dionne's workshop because I didn't read the description all that carefully, and I think I thought it was on humor, only it was on making minor characters more memorable, and it dovetailed well with Sarah's. Taken together, they gave me lots and lots to think about and work with, both for my own writing and for my critiques of other people's works.

I enjoyed my other breakout sessions as well - Loree Griffin Burns on research (mostly for nonfiction, although it has application when writing fiction as well) and Stacy Whitman's on worldbuilding, which was excellent.

And I really enjoyed the time spent talking with friends, be it during lunch, in between sessions, at dinner or hanging out in the lobby (where alcohol may or may not have been in play).

Now I'm beat - so I'll tell you about tonight's poetry reading tomorrow. (Will I ever catch up?)

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 12

2011-05-16T21:13:00.001-04:00

My apologies for the break in our programming. I had a delightful time while away (more on that in a separate post later), but I have missed spending time with Emma and with you. I shall see about getting us a bit nearer to caught up this week by putting up TWO chapters of posts tomorrow.

Today's chapter, while the usual sort of length of an Austen chapter, results in a rather short post. The first - and most important - thing to happen in this chapter is that Emma and Mr George Knightley have made up. Although not willing to acknowledge that she might actually be in the wrong, Emma does not like to be on the outs with Mr Knightley. She has invited him to dinner on the very night that the Knightley family from London (his brother John married her sister Isabella, remember) have come from London. Mr Woodhouse protested at first, because he wants his elder daughter and her family all to himself that first evening, but Emma made sure Mr Knightley was invited - and that she presented herself well and with her eight-year old niece (also named Emma) in her arms.

Mr Knightley tells us all that he is 16 years older than Emma, and, when Emma gets saucy, he reminds her that he's been around both longer than her and more than her (she has never traveled, whereas he has, for instance, and he has a wider circle of acquaintance than she does, not that it comes up here), and therefore knows a bit more about the ways of the world. Still, they make up quite happily.

Sea bathing

Sea bathing was prescribed by medical doctors during Austen's time, and is not a bit of frolicking in the shallows. Rather, the patient was wheeled out in a covered wagon of sorts (called a bathing machine), and a well-muscled attendant would heave them into the water and make sure they stayed there for the amount of time prescribed by the physician. The attendant would then haul the person back out. Some men may have gone in naked (based on anecdotes and caricatures from the time), but most men and all or nearly all women went into the sea in bathing garments of some sort.

The bathing machines were either pushed into the surf by men or by work horses. The practice continued well into Victorian times, with Lewis Carroll mentioning them in his works.

Isabella's doctor sent her and the children to the seaside in September, believing that sea air and sea bathing would be good for her daughter Bella. Mr Woodhouse (and, apparently, Dr Perry), are in the anti-bathing camp. Sea-bathing was prescribed pretty much year-round, by the way, and Austen's cousin Eliza took her sickly son sea-bathing in January. Imagine hopping into the ocean on the southwest coast of England in January. BRRR! (While Eliza believed that the sea-bathing helped her son, Hastings, he eventually died of his ailments - but not of bathing-related causes.)

Jane Fairfax is remarked upon

Isabella thinks highly of her, and wishes she were around more to be a suitable companion to Emma. We start to get a bit of Jane Fairfax's backstory here as well. For one thing, she is exactly Emma's age. And extremely accomplished. This is Jane Austen reminding us about Miss Fairfax and feeding us a bit of information about her. We can (safely) assume we'll be hearing/seeing more of her in the near future.

Fight! Fight!

Mr Woodhouse and Isabella return to their battle of the doctors, with Mr Woodhouse refusing to let it lie, and speaking so slightingly of Isabella's preferred physician that eventually, Mr John Knightley loses his cool - and who can blame him, really? Even Emma understands why he finally snapped. Still, he quickly calms himself down a bit, and allows his brother to draw him back into conversation, and Mr Woodhouse is pacified by his daughters.

What we're meant to understand from this is not entirely clear at first. Perhaps that Mr John Knightley is easily ruffled, although seriously, it took him a long time to get his hackles up and he allowed them to recede back down almost at once. It's my belief that the point is to see how needy and obsessively concerned Mr Woodhouse is, and to understand that Emma feels very much trapped at Hartfield as a result of her desires to care for and please him. See how he moans over Isabella living in London or visiting other places, and how he still believes she'd have been better off if she'd never left home?

Here's how the Emma/Knightley reconciliation looked in the Kate Beckinsale/Mark Strong version (stop at the 1:38 mark if you don't wish to see what happens past this chapter):

An observation

2011-05-15T23:51:00.000-04:00

I love going away on retreat and to the NESCBWI Conference.

I usually love coming home just as much.

My joy on returning home was diminished on discovering an hour and a half's worth of cleaning to be done just to get the kitchen, master bedroom and master bath to an acceptable level of cleanliness/tidiness, however. Especially when they were in decent shape when I left. *heavy sigh*

I believe that everything will look much better after a good night's sleep. Followed by some more thorough cleaning, although I have a handful of items on the calendar. Like a doctor appointment for M, and tai chi for me. And something in the evening. Oh, right. I'm the featured reader at Poetry in the Round at the B&N in Marlton, NJ tomorrow evening!

Tomorrow will also include Chapter 12 of Emma as well as a big ol' NESCBWI-related post and a final retreat update.

I now bid you a good night!

Bloggus interruptus

2011-05-14T21:10:00.000-04:00

We are sorry for the inconvenience, but this blog has been temporarily interrupted by the NESCBWI Conference, which is far too engaging to allow for a regular blog post.

Your regular service will be restored no later than Monday, May 16th.

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 11

2011-05-12T21:09:00.001-04:00

Austen carefully sets Mr Elton and Harriet Smith aside at the start of the chapter quite deliberately. Part of the reason for doing so is that it was quite common in Austen's time for novels to be read aloud among the family - sometimes one chapter at a time - and having spent the prior chapter focused almost entirely on those two characters, Austen wants to make clear that she's moving on to a different topic, in case the reader put the book down yesterday (or a few days ago), and just now picked it up again.

We are introduced in this chapter to two new characters: Emma's sister, Isabella Woodhouse Knightley, and her brother-in-law, John Knightley, who happens to be Mr Knightley's younger brother.

Isabella is small and pretty, a devoted mother, and pretty much as concerned about health issues (her own and her children's) every bit as much as Mr Woodhouse is.

John Knightley bears some similarities to Mr Palmer from Sense & Sensibility, without being quite as much of a curmudgeon. He can be quite charming and has a sense of humor, but he becomes impatient with Mr Woodhouse and his health complaints and complaints about other things, like Miss Taylor getting married, or Isabella not visiting enough. (And really, who can blame him? Well, besides Emma, who isn't overly fond of John because of this particular aspect of his personality.)

We learn that one or both of the Westons have seen Emma and her father every day but one since their marriage, and we learn a bit more about Frank Churchill - that he is 23, for instance (2 years older than Emma), and that nothing's been heard from him since his letter after his father's marriage. We're reminded that Frank's letter was dated September 28th, while it is now just before Christmas, and told that the letter came from Weymouth.

What's this about Weymouth?

Weymouth was a seaside resort area on the English coast in Dorsetshire. It was frequented by members of the royal family. The Prince Regent seems to have preferred Brighton, as I mentioned during our read of Pride & Prejudice, but his father, King George III, and many of his siblings patronized Weymouth. It being such a popular, built-up resort (at the time), it's not the sort of place that Austen preferred - she tended to like quieter locales.

In a letter to her sister Cassandra in 1804, here's what Austen had to say about Weymouth (where Cassandra was staying on holiday):

Your account of Weymouth contains nothing which strikes me so forcibly as there being no ice in the town. For every other vexation I was in some measure prepared, and particularly for your disappointment in not seeing the Royal family go on board, having already heard from Mr Crawford that he had seen you in the very act of being too late, but for there being no ice … what could prepare me? Weymouth is altogether a shocking place I perceive, without recommendation of any kind and worthy only of being frequented by the inhabitants of Gloucester. I am really very glad that we did not go there and that Henry and Eliza found nothing in it to make them think differently.

The reference to "the inhabitants of Gloucester" is a reference to King George III's brother, the Duke of Gloucester, and his family.

Being as fashionable as it was, Weymouth is associated with stylish (and possibly "fast") living. Austen mentions Weymouth in Mansfield Park as the place where Tom Bertram met Mr Yates, having gambled away all his money. Just something to bear in mind when we hear more about Weymouth going forward.

Frank Churchill's "shocking" situation

Isabella speaks about how awful it is for a parent to have a child taken away from them, then continues:

"There is something so shocking in a child's being taken away from his parents and natural home! I never could comprehend how Mr. Weston could part with him. To give up one's child! I really never could think well of any body who proposed such a thing to any body else."

This is NOT Austen sneaking her own opinion in there. It is instead a sly, inside family joke.

Austen was the seventh of eight children. Her eldest brother, James, became a parson. Her second eldest brother, George, had physical and possibly mental handicaps, and was put into full-time care with a local family when he was a young boy (he lived to be a very old man). Her third eldest brother was Edward, who, at age 12, went off to live with some cousins with the surname of Knight. The Knights had no children of their own, so they adopted Edward, thereby allowing him to inherit Mr Knight's estate. As the Knight's heir, Edward received a first-rate education and was sent on a Grand Tour of Europe prior to settling into a marriage, but the Knights allowed and encouraged Edward to keep in touch with his family. Mrs Knight, his adoptive mother, was extraordinarily fond of him - so much so that despite having a life estate in the Chawton estate, she insisted on moving out and giving over the estate to Edward and his family, and on voluntarily reducing her own allowance.

Mrs Knight was also exceedingly kind to Jane Austen. In fact, she provided a small allowance to Jane every year, and made presents to her and to Cassandra as well, and Austen was very fond of her, exchanging correspondence and visiting her.

Isabella's remarks, which can be read as a condemnation of Edward's situation, was, in fact, the sort of joke that all of the Austens - and Mrs Knight, who died in 1812, just over three years before Emma's publication - would have found quite funny.

Congratulations, J. Patrick Lewis!

2011-05-11T23:36:00.000-04:00

I am THRILLED to learn that my friend Pat (aka poet extraordinaire J. Patrick Lewis) has been named Children's Poet Laureate. What a well-merited distinction!

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 10

2011-05-11T21:05:00.001-04:00

A charitable visit to pay to a poor sick family

Emma is engaging in noblesse oblige: the obligation of those of rank and fortune to behave kindly to those much less fortunate. Back in Chapter Four, when Emma worked so hard to put Robert Martin down, she pointed out that if he were a step or two higher, he'd be in her society already, and that if he were a few steps lower, she might be of use to him, but he's in the middle and not worth her attention in any respect. Putting aside the complete snobbishness of her assertion, she was there referring to this idea of charitable visits to the poor.

It was very common for gentlewomen of the time to buy stockings, sew clothing, and donate cast-off items to those much less fortunate, along with occasional gifts of food items and money. Austen and her sister and mother bought and made garments for the poor on a regular basis as well as sending food items to less fortunate friends and neighbors and making donations for the poor, and it's therefore no surprise that her characters do as well. (Rather like the March sisters did in Little Women, although I digress.)

In this case, Emma is dragging Harriet along with her to visit a poor family, the members of which also happen to be ill. Austen takes this opportunity, amid ample evidence of Emma's delusional behavior regarding Mr Elton and Harriet Smith, to remind us of some of Emma's good qualities: she is kind, and generous, and she generally wants to be of assistance. She is a compassionate, generous caretaker, sympathetic and full of goodwill. It's nice to have a reminder that she is actually a good person, despite her wish to ignore reality and/or impose her will on it.

I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry.

Emma surprises Harriet by declaring herself disinclined to marry. She points out that she would have to meet someone far superior to anyone she's already met, and that she would have to be in love. If you ask me (and I'm going to pretend you did!), this is Austen's protofeminism coming to the fore again:

"I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry. Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing! but I never have been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall. And, without love, I am sure I should be a fool to change such a situation as mine. Fortune I do not want; employment I do not want; consequence I do not want: I believe few married women are half as much mistress of their husband's house as I am of Hartfield; and never, never could I expect to be so truly beloved and important; so always first and always right in any man's eyes as I am in my father's."

Emma is not actually boasting here, just calling it as she sees it: She's wealthy, and stands to inherit since her father's estate is not entailed; she has plenty to do, what with her continual search for a new project, and managing Hartfield, and such; she is the highest-ranked female in Hartfield and moves in good society; and her father thinks she hung the moon. Unless she falls in love, she's got no need to rock the boat. And I believe she means it - and that this is Austen's way of saying that if women did not have an economic need to marry, they'd all do best to wait until they were in love before committing themselves.

I will also point out that this is the second time in the novel that the notion of Emma falling in love has been mentioned. The first time was during Mr Knightley's conversation with Mrs Weston in Chapter 5, when he hoped that Emma would indeed fall in love and be left in some doubt of her affection being returned. This being a novel about Emma - and this being an Austen novel, in which young women end up married - I figure it's worth keeping track of what's being said about Emma and the idea of love.

To be an old maid at last, like Miss Bates!

Harriet frets that Emma will become an old maid like Miss Bates, whom we've only heard of thus far. Now, Austen herself was a somewhat impoverished spinster. Like Miss Bates, her father had been a clergyman; after her father's death, Austen, her sister and her mother relied on a combination of Mrs Austen's small income, Cassandra's even smaller one (from a life insurance policy taken out by her long-dead fiancé), and contributions from Austen's brothers. Once Austen began selling her novel, she had a bit of money of her own, but with the food shortages that occurred during the early 1800s, the prices of food had skyrocketed, so money didn't stretch quite as far as it used to. (But again, I digress.)

While Austen understood the economics of Miss Bates's situation based on her personal history, it is likely that Miss Bates was based on Miss Benn, also the daughter of a dead clergyman, and a friend to the Austens after they moved to Chawton Cottage. Miss Benn was kind-hearted, but of rather limited understanding, and with a tendency to natter on - just like Miss Bates.

Putting aside the possible real-life inspirations for the character of Miss Bates, the discussion of her condition is again protofeminist Austen at work. Austen says that the reason old maids are usually found to be contemptible is because they are usually poor. "[A] single woman, of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as any body else," says Emma, explaining that poverty has a way of wearing people down, narrowing their experience and worldview and making them unhappy.

We are told, however, that Miss Bates runs against type when it comes to the effects of poverty on her thoughts: she is not unhappy or mean-spirited, but is cheerful and generous, despite her poverty. She is also, we are assured, silly.

Emma assures Harriet that she'll keep busy - painting, sewing, playing music, and being an excellent aunt to her sister's children, the young Knightleys.

I wish Jane Fairfax very well; but she tires me to death.

We hear for the first time about Miss Bates's niece, Jane Fairfax. Jane does not live with her aunt and grandmother in Highbury, but frequently corresponds - and Miss Bates talks of her almost constantly, reading and discussing Jane and her letters ad nauseum. It is at least partly for this reason that Emma dislikes the thought of Jane Fairfax.

Meeting Mr Elton in the lane

Mr Elton spied Harriet and Emma walking past the Vicarage and set out after them. He claims he was on his way to visit the family that Emma and Harriet just visited, but rather than doing so, he turns back with them. Although left alone with Harriet (sort of) on two occasions, he sticks to discussions of food and the like, and doesn't make a declaration of interest.

Still, our omniscient narrator adopts Emma's view of the couple, referring to them as "the lovers" and filtering their conduct through Emma's lens.

Wanna see a gorgeous illustration of Emma, Harriet and Mr Elton in the lane? Check out this illustration by Himmapaan

At the Boardwalk cover reveal

2011-05-10T21:15:00.002-04:00

Dudes!

I finally have permission to share the cover of my picture book, At the Boardwalk, with you. It's due out from tiger tales books in March of 2012. I happen to think that Mónica Armiño is a genius.
And here it is:

What do you think?

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 9 (part 2)

2011-05-10T16:12:00.000-04:00

I hope you all enjoyed yesterday's post about the dirty joke in Chapter 9. If I get extra time, I'll catch us up by moving on to Chapter 10 before the end of the day, but it might not happen. (A girl has to guard her retreat time, yo.)

Mr Knightley

Mr Knightley is still unhappy with Emma, but she refuses to repent. To quote Lady Catherine from Pride and Prejudice, "Obstinate, headstrong girl!" Instead, she continues on with her current project - matchmaking between Harriet Smith and Mr Elton.

Games and Riddles

The riddles that are included in this Chapter are the first sort of parlor games we see in Emma, but they will not be the last - we shall see parlor games played both in and out of the parlor as the book proceeds, and the idea of game-playing is integral to this novel. More to the point, the parlor games here (and later) are word games, in which words are terribly important. Using the right words is key, and teasing out the meaning of the clues requires skill. Metaphorically, it's what this novel is about. Emma has to learn to apply her considerable intelligence properly in order to sort out what's actually going on around her. And as we are soon to see, she is frequently blind to the meaning of people's actions and words, at least early on - she is, in fact, no better at sorting out what people mean by their actions than Harriet is at solving Mr Elton's puzzle. But I am getting a bit ahead of myself.

As we've seen thus far, Emma Woodhouse is busy trying to create her own (fictional) world. She refuses to acknowledge the reality of the world around her: one in which Mr Elton is capable of choosing his own bride and means to choose a woman with substantial means, and one in which an illegitimate daughter of indistinct birth is lucky to attract the interest of a gentleman farmer like Robert Martin. And it's not that she isn't aware of these points - after all, Mr Knightley has spoken to her quite bluntly about it; it's that she refuses to accept this reality, and is determined to write her own version of the story. Part of that involves her creation of a new version of Harriet Smith, who is pliable enough to allow Emma to mould her. (We shall see whether Emma will be able to control her once Harriet's transformation is complete.)

Emma distinguishes Mr Elton by asking him for a riddle for Harriet's collection, thereby distinguishing him as the only person in town who she specifically asked for a contribution. He offers a popular charade (then a verbal puzzle in which clues were given as to the syllables of a word), the solution to which was "Woman" (1st=woe, 2nd=man, whole=woman).

Readers notice that Mr Elton addresses himself to Emma, and that he seeks to please Emma, and that Harriet is a mere afterthought on his part. Emma, however, is oblivious, so certain is she that her plans for Elton and Harriet are working out well.

Mr Elton returns the next day to present a riddle, giving it to Emma and saying "I do not offer it for Miss Smith's collection." He offers a cockamamie story about it being written by his "friend" for a young lady whom he admires, and Emma sees through the "friend" story at once. She does not, however, listen to what Mr Elton has said - that this poem is not for Miss Smith. She explains away the fact that Elton meets her eyes as he speaks and addresses only her (although readers do not - after all, he's older and more experienced than Emma, and presumably not so shy as to be unable to speak to a woman in whom he's interested). Nor does she pay any attention to the fact that the paper is addressed "To Miss ___", deliberately omitting any surname.

Emma is surprised to see Mr Elton's reference to the young lady's "ready wit", concluding that he must be very much in love with Harriet if he's able to find her at all witty. She admits later that he pushed the paper toward her and not toward Harriet, but again discounts Elton's actions. Still, it never occurs to her that Mr Elton is acting in any way other than the way she wishes for him to act; she wants him to be in love with Harriet, and she blindly refuses to consider that she might be wrong.

"I cannot have a doubt as to Mr Elton's intentions. You are his object— and you will soon receive the completest proof of it. I thought it must be so. I thought I could not be so deceived; but now, it is clear; the state of his mind is as clear and decided, as my wishes on the subject have been ever since I knew you. Yes, Harriet, just so long have I been wanting the very circumstance to happen what has happened."

Emma manages to persuade Harriet that Mr Elton is in love with Harriet, and that she will soon be getting a marriage proposal from him. Harriet, willing to be led by Emma's superior knowledge, etc., has decided that not only must Emma be correct about Mr Elton and his attentions, but also that she - Harriet - must be very much in love with him.

Austen quotes Shakespeare

"The course of true love never did run smooth" is a reference to a line from the start of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It is wise to assume that any reference to other works is entirely deliberate on Austen's parts, and the invocation of a line spoken by one of the pairs of lovers that gets lost in the wood and has their head messed with by Puck is not only deliberate, but meaningful. The line is spoken in Act I of A Midsummer Night's Dream by Lysander, who is very deeply in love with Hermia. Puck erroneously puts a love potion in his eyes, believing him to be Demetrius, which causes Lysander to switch his affections to Hermia's cousin and friend, Helena.

Later in the same act, Hermia speaks a popular, well-known couplet - one of the best-known quotes from the play, and one that is associated with Lysander's line: "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;/ And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind." Invoking the Bard for theme and foreshadowing purposes is brilliant, no? Like Lysander, Harriet has been convinced that she no longer feels any affection for Robert Martin, but is in love with Mr Elton. And, on another level, Emma, who is acting the part of Cupid, has been painted blind - she is not seeing what is right in front of her. Clever, clever Austen. Also, how about this implied call-back to Cupid from earlier in the chapter, as part of that (actually naughty) Kitty poem, speaking of people who are "hoodwinked" (meaning a hood had been thrown over their heads so they couldn't see) and referring to Cupid?

Mr Elton's return

He shows up again later, nearly begging for an invitation to spend his evening at Hartfield. Emma (who acts an awful lot like Temperance Brennan here, not understanding the undercurrents and implications of his actions) tells him they've already got enough people for cards and sends him on his way. As she has met his eyes and smiled at him, however, he probably doesn't leave entirely discouraged - especially after he sees that Emma has written the first eight lines of his riddle into Harriet's book.

Things are getting good. (Or, well, perhaps bad, but in a good way.)

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 9

2011-05-09T16:32:00.000-04:00

The collection of "elegant extracts" was so common among young women of Austen's time that there were publishers who put out a series of books with that phrase in the title, containing excerpts of Shakespeare and Spenser alongside various bits from philosophers, historians, moralizers and more. Another fun (and suitable) pastime for young women was the collection of riddles, conundra, word puzzles and "trophies" (things like pressed flowers, perhaps, or mementoes).

Inspired by one of the teachers at Mrs Goddard's school, Harriet is currently collecting a bunch of riddles into a book.

I actually think I'll do a separate post about the rest of the chapter, but I'd like to point out that in this chapter of Emma, Austen is not at all the prim, proper author so many people think of. Instead, she is referencing a well-known dirty joke.

Mr Woodhouse's riddle is a well-known (and rather bawdy) riddle published by David Garrick in 1771. Garrick was a noted actor and owner of the Drury Lane Theater. He was also friends with Sir Francis Dashwood, the founder of the infamous Hellfire Club, and was part of the Society of Dilettanti - an organization of young men interested in the arts in England, although the group had some unsavory connotations as well.

Kitty, a fair, but frozen maid,
Kindled a flame I still deplore;
The hood-wink'd boy I call'd in aid,
Much of his near approach afraid,
So fatal to my suit before.

At length, propitious to my pray'r,
The little urchin came;
At once he sought the midway air,
And soon he clear'd, with dextrous care,
The bitter relicks of my flame.

To Kitty, Fanny now succeeds,
She kindles slow, but lasting fires:
With care my appetite she feeds;
Each day some willing victim bleeds,
To satisfy my strange desires.

Say, by what title, or what name,
Must I this youth address?
Cupid and he are not the same,
Tho' both can raise, or quench a flame --
I'll kiss you, if you guess.

Those of you who cling firmly to the belief that Austen was always entirely proper, all I can say is prepare to have your minds blown.

In the first stanza: "Kitty" was a slang term during that period for a prostitute. "Hoodwinked" at that time meant only "hooded", and the "hoodwinked boy" called upon by the speaker is, in fact, his penis (uncircumcised males being predominant). The "flame" that was kindled was the burning sensation associated with syphilis.

The second stanza is often read as referring to sodomy - it was not an uncommon practice during Garrick's time for young boys to be used sexually as a way of trying to avoid venereal disease. Some of the boys were male prostitutes by trade, while others were boys kidnapped off the street by procurers for the use of their male patrons. It also reads quite rightly as references to what a penis gets up to during intercourse, with the word "came" meaning exactly what you might expect.

In the third stanza, the man has switched from female prostitutes to virgins - Fanny (even then a euphemism in England for the vagina) is obviously female, and is probably supposed to be the guy's wife, who is fine for vanilla sex. However, in order to try to rid himself of the symptoms of syphilis and to satisfy his "strange desires", the man has been having sex with virgins (it was believed during Garrick's time - as during Shakespeare's - that intercourse with virgins would cure VD). Hence the reference to a new one bleeding every day. That it was not uncommon for children of both sexes to be raped as part of this sort of treatment feeds into the "strange desires" as well.

Throughout the poem, it's been possible for a tame reading to lead one to the answer Cupid, but in the final stanza, we're flat-out told it's NOT Cupid. The correct "tame" answer to this poem is "a chimney-sweep" while the "dirty" answer is "a penis". The reason I put the word tame in quotes in the prior sentence is that the phrase "to get one's chimney sweep out" was a naughty slang reference for heterosexual sex - the chimney being a reference to the vagina.

This particular riddle was quite definitely never included in Elegant Extracts for Young Ladies, but it was a fairly well-known dirty joke. Having Emma say it was from Elegant Extracts is a huge wink to the readers of Austen's time that she is making fun of Elegant Extracts - and not for the first time, since she mocks them in Northanger Abbey as well, a version of which long predated Emma. That Mr Woodhouse - old, asexual, "preserve the virgins" Mr Woodhouse - is the one mentioning it repeatedly to Emma and Harriet is hilarious. And he's an older man, so he can be expected to have learned it when it was first published. Perhaps he's unaware of the dirty second meaning (actually the most likely first meaning, really, but not a socially acceptable one), but some commentary has speculated that Mr Woodhouse was a bit of a libertine in his youth and that the association of a poem associated with syphilis is paired with Mr Woodhouse deliberately - the eating of "thin gruel" being one of the known cures, as well as exposure to heat - and we all know how he wants to be beside a fire, even in midsummer.

I'll be back later - a word which here may turn out to mean "tomorrow" - with another post about the rest of the chapter, but for now, I want to note that although Austen's readers would most likely have known this was a dirty joke (just as a reference these days to a "man from Nantucket" might be expected to put contemporary readers on notice), Mr Woodhouse certainly wouldn't have told the joke to Emma or Harriet had he realized or remembered that it was actually obscene. Moreover, Emma, despite being "the cleverest of her family" (as Mr Knightley observed in Chapter 7), obviously doesn't realize there's a sexual meaning to the book - otherwise, they wouldn't have put it in Harriet's book at all, let alone on the second page. Metaphorically speaking, Emma is at present completely unaware of or inattentive to sexual matters.

I applaud the Obamas

2011-05-09T10:31:00.001-04:00

Now, I applaud the Obamas for many reasons, but today, it's related to their decision to host an afternoon for young people and a night for adults that is devoted to celebrating American poetry. I love their willingness to embrace the arts and intellectual pursuits, and their dedication to celebrating literature and music.

As Percy Bysshe Shelley once wrote in his Defence of Poetry, "Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world." How nice to see them get just a bit of acknowledgement after all.

What a night/day!

2011-05-08T21:29:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was a flurry of activity as I ran a variety of errands relating to S's upcoming prom (a fitting), M's then-upcoming evening (a sweet 16 party for a friend of hers, which required a few purchases), and shopping for my trip to New Hampshire, whence I am now writing this blog post.

At 6:45, I met my Intrepid Friend Lisa at the local train station (with S and her friend Ari in tow) to make our way into Philly for last night's concert by The Airborne Toxic Event. Dudes, the concert was AWESOME! The energy in the room was fabulous, the band was amazing, and there were fabulous bits of theatre involved - as when Mikel (the lead singer) climbed onto a tall speaker and then onto the outside edge of the balcony - while singing - and then hung out (dangerously) up there for a bit. I suspect it was to detract attention from the issues they were having on stage with his guitar and his microphone stand, all of which seemed to get fixed while we kept an eye on the edge of the balcony.

Another fine piece of theatre, which was really, truly hilarious to the four of us? At one point (I think the start of the encore, which ran almost 30 minutes), Mikel walked on stage and shook his water bottle onto the crowd closest to the stage. (We were in the far back of the space, immediately in front of the sound board, so we weren't in danger of getting wet. Or were we?) Mikel then picked up an unopened bottle, ripped the cap off, then lobbed it to the back of the room like a grenade, where it hit Ari and S, soaking half of Ari's head, spraying S, and causing S to shriek like Janet Leigh in Psycho (almost). Heh.

One of the coolest musical bits in the concert probably came during the encore, when the band launched into Missy, one of the songs off the first CD, then morphed into I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen (did the whole song) then segued into Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash (again, the whole song - and S and Ari sang along with every word - LOUDLY; the youngsters these days all love Johnny Cash, yo), finally bridging back into Missy, but adding a bass solo and a drum solo before the piece was over. Spectacular!

After the concert, Mikel stepped down to meet and greet folks in front of the stage. Eventually, I scored a lovely photo of him with S and Ari, and they scored an apology for the water bottle incident and a new fangirlsh appreciation for the band.

I rolled into my house at about 12:10, and still had to pack. I rolled into bed just after 2, and back out before 6 a.m. This morning, I picked up Angela De Groot () just after 6:30 a.m. and we ~~flew~~ drove up to Waterville Valley for our now-annual retreat, stopping along the way for Egg McMuffins in CT, lunch at the Tilton Diner and grocery shopping in Tilton, and our arrival in Waterville, where Jennifer Hubbard () eventually met us. HELLO FROM WATERVILLE!

And now, it's nearly movie time. See you on the flip side, when maybe I will tell you about the hilarity and hotness that is THOR (which was my Friday evening outing).

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 8

2011-05-08T11:27:00.001-04:00

I hope you'll forgive me for the shortness of today's post. In a later one, I'll explain more about the "whys" of it, but for now, trust me when I say that I don't have a longer one in me.

The very best thing I could think of to share with you is actually this clip from the 1995 film production of Emma starring the dishy Jeremy Northam as Mr Knightley to Gwyneth Paltrow's Emma Woodhouse. The important bits of dialogue - and several of my favorites of Mr Knightley's quotes - are included in the archery scene that replaces the parlour scene Austen crafted. I love the way the hits and misses of both shooters provides additional commentary/subtext here. The clip opens with some of Emma's and Harriet's conversation about Robert Martin, then proceeds to the conversation between Emma and Mr Knightley. If you do not wish to move ahead, I suggest stopping the clip once Mr Knightley walks off, somewhere around the 5:33 mark.

I will say that Austen's proto-feminism is showing in this scene, as Emma seethes about men, who are only interested in a pretty face and a pleasing disposition. Mr Knightley (one of Austen's two favorites of her own heroes) argues to the contrary, saying that Emma's views on what men want in their wives is balderdash. The thing is, they are both right: Some men of the time valued beauty and disposition over intelligence and education, so Emma is not entirely wrong - and certainly any prospective spouse (male or female) would probably prefer someone nice-looking and good-natured to someone hideous and/or cross.

Harriet has her looks and temperament going for her, but she comes up way short on intelligence, education, and plain old good sense - as Mr Knightley is quick to point out. Still, he reckoned that since Robert Martin was so desperately in love with her and is himself a rational, clever man, he'd be able to manage with a pretty, foolish wife whom he loved. (My - Harriet has rather a lot in common with Mrs Bennet from Pride and Prejudice, come to think of it - low connections (lower than Mrs Bennet's, actually), beauty but little intelligence or education. Harriet, however, is good-natured and not inclined to hypochondria. But I digress.)

It's really Mr Knightley's arguments that express Austen's protofeminism. He argues that (rational) men want rational wives, not just pretty airheads, and he denies Emma's accusation that men expect women to accept any offer of marriage that comes their way. In response to Emma's teasing that Harriet would be the perfect spouse for Mr Knightley, were he inclined to marry, Mr Knightley reasserts his earlier position that no good will come from Emma's and Harriet's relationship: he believes that Emma will puff Harriet up so far that she won't look at any one who might be willing to marry her, but that Harriet will eventually want to marry, and wil end up settling for someone far worse than Robert Martin, all as a result of Emma's meddling.

Gosh, I love this chapter. It's one of my favorites in the entire book. Heck, it's among my favorites in all of Austen, really.

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 7

2011-05-07T23:26:00.000-04:00

Harriet turns up with a letter in hand - a lovely, well-written marriage proposal from Robert Martin. Don't look now, but you can totally see Austen's machinery showing here - most proposals were delivered in person, and had Robert Martin proposed in person, Harriet would have given her answer (undoubtedly a big ol' YES), and we'd never have this scene - or much of the rest of the novel, really. What's an author to do? Why, have the proposal delivered by letter, of course! Moving on . . .

Where was I? Oh. Right. Harriet turns up with a letter in hand - a lovely, well-written marriage proposal from Robert Martin, full of sense and feeling, and Emma is momentarily speechless. Harriet shows the letter to Emma, which is a bit unusual, really - it's a pretty intimate sort of letter to be flashing around - and Emma is quite keen to read it. She immediately quips that Mr Martin's sister must have helped him with it, but later contradicts herself by describing the style of writing:

"No doubt he is a sensible man, and I suppose may have a natural talent for — thinks strongly and clearly — and when he takes a pen in hand, his thoughts naturally find proper words. It is so with some men. Yes, I understand the sort of mind. Vigorous, decided, with sentiments to a certain point, not coarse. A better written letter, Harriet (returning it,) than I had expected."

Now we get to the tricky part. See, Harriet wants to know what to do next, and Emma immediately tells her to be quite clear in her refusal - thereby poisoning that particular well, since it's only after Emma's statement that she (and we) learn that Harriet had meant to accept him. Only Harriet is now swayed by Emma's disapprobation, and things rapidly get out of hand as Emma manipulates Harriet into deciding to turn down Robert Martin and builds her hope for a relationship with Mr Elton.

You can see this scene play out (and some of Mr Elton's pandering about Emma's artistry) in this bit from the recent BBC production of Emma. I'm sorry that embedding is unavailable for this video. If you watch it and haven't read on yet, stop at the 5:57 mark.

Emma, Volume I, Chapter 6

2011-05-06T11:24:00.000-04:00

Oh, Emma! You are so very clueless. Which reminds me of one of the best film adaptations of Emma ever - the movie, Clueless starring Alicia Silverstone and Paul Rudd in the roles of Emma and Knightley. (Nevermind that their characters were renamed Cher and Josh.)

Emma is not truly listening to Mr Elton, you see. He is not praising Harriet, as Emma thinks. He is praising Emma's influence on Harriet. He is not praising Harriet's beauty as a model, but Emma's skill in drawing - and in that, he joins Harriet in being a complete and total suck-up to Emma, past what's merited. (We're told that Emma has natural talent and skill in art and music, but lacks application, practice and/or follow-through - a theme that will recur, by the way.)

When Emma comments that there are no husbands and wives in the room at present and Mr Elton picks up that phrase and runs with it, she believes in her blind, self-satisfied way that Elton has designs on Harriet. I rather suspect that Elton isn't thinking of Harriet at all.

You have made her too tall, Emma

Enter the rest of the core cast to offer commentary.

Mrs Weston says Emma botched Harriet's eyes and eyebrows, and Elton argues with her.

Mr Knightley, in something that may have double meaning, says that Emma has made Harriet too tall. He means, I suppose, that Emma's scale is off and she has added some vertical height to Harriet in her picture. He may mean as well that Emma has elevated Harriet when she ought not have done. Emma knows that Knightley is correct about Harriet's height being off, but won't own up to it. Elton, however, lies bold-facèdly about it.

Mr Woodhouse frets that the Harriet in the sketch is inadequately bundled up for someone who is depicted as being outside. Silly Mr Woodhouse.

Exit Mr Elton, stage left, with a portrait of Harriet in hand

On learning that the portrait must be framed, Mr Elton begs and pleads and bows and scrapes his way off to London with the piece of artwork. Emma is certain it's because he is terribly in love with its subject, although she notices that he's awfully smarmy -- too smarmy for her taste, really. To which I say again now as I said at the start, "Oh, Emma!"

His Shoes Were Far Too Tight

2011-05-06T11:23:00.001-04:00

Edward Lear is known by many as the father of nonsense poetry. While silly poems existed before Lear started writing, his title is still well-deserved, since he wrote quite a large amount of nonsense poetry. In 1846, A Book of Nonsense, his first collection of nonsense poems was published.

As a child, Daniel Pinkwater especially enjoyed reading The Complete Nonsense of Edward Lear, which he repeatedly borrowed from his local library. Daniel has written a marvelous introduction to this collection of Edward Lear's poems, which manages to introduce the reader to Lear and to the idea of nonsense poetry in an engaging way. What follows is a collection of ten Lear poems selected by Daniel Pinkwater, including the well-known favorites, "The Owl and the Pussycat" and "The Jumblies", each of which is accompanied by illustrations done by Calef Brown, himself a poet as well as an illustrator. The quirkiness and bold color of the illustrations pairs extremely well with the often silly verses penned by Lear, and this book makes an excellent introduction to Lear's work. The book's title is derived from a recurring line in "Some Incidents in the Life of My Uncle Arly".

One of my favorite Lear words is "runcible", an invented nonsense word that seems to stand in to mean whatever Lear wants it to at any given time. It is clear that it is (a) silly and (b) an adjective, and beyond that there's no clear meaning of the word. The word appears at least twice in this collection – once in "How Pleasant to Know Mr. Lear!" and again in "The Owl and the Pussycat".

This book is an excellent introduction to nonsense poetry and to the works of Edward Lear. Highly recommended for fans of silly poems and for libraries everywhere. My thanks to the good people at Chronicle Books for sending me a review copy.