Emily Averbach’s critical piece “An Imaginist Like Herself” primarily discusses the function of marriage in Austen’s Emma. Averbach appears to present this function as having give-and-take value, with a compatible match being made out of dissimilar men and women who each have something to bring to the relationship:
Austen presents her happiest marriages in Emma as those where the union benefits both partners, like a completion of self. Presumably Emma, Harriet Smith, and Frank Churchill will acquire discipline and rationality; in turn, Mr. Knightley, Robert Martin, and Jane Fairfax may gain imagination and playfulness. (440)
I do not believe Averbach is fully wrong about this; a symbiotic marriage is obviously going to bring more “happiness of the union” than one of two characters who are far too alike, like Emma and Frank Churchill, for instance (333). However, her presentation here is a bit flat and sugar-coated with regards as to what some characters gain.
In the Emma-Mr. Knightley union, it is fairly obvious that Emma will not be much more disciplined than she chooses, and the magnanimous Mr. Knightley seems no more disposed towards playfulness (other than the occasional witty banter with Emma) than his brother John might be. To suggest otherwise is to ignore the ingrained personalities of both characters, and even Averbach herself notes that “Austen adds a feminist twist to the ending of Emma by implying that her bossy, competitive heroine may still be scheming to stay more in control of her life than most married women” (440). What is secured in the Knightley’s new marriage is an assurance that the wealth, land, and power in Highbury remain where they always have been. I am not arguing that Emma and Mr. Knightley do not love one another, nor am I arguing against Austen’s assertion that they will be happy in their marriage, but I am arguing that they did not marry solely for love, nor would love alone have moved them to join with one another.
The most significant suggestion that there is something other than love behind the marriage of Emma is when Harriet Smith is telling Emma she believes herself to be in love with Mr. Knightley, and that she is under the impression her feelings are being reciprocated. Austen writes: “It darted through her, with the speed of an arrow, that Mr. Knightley must marry no one but herself!” (281). It is not written that it darted through Emma that she was in love with Mr. Knightley, or that Emma was struck with a realization that she had loved Mr. Knightley all of her life. That Mr. Knightley must marry her is synonymous with an obligation, a duty, or a requirement, all of these implications lacking passion or “playfulness.”
The circumstance is that even despite their affections, neither character would be primarily disposed to make a match had an equal social station not been possessed by the other. They might truly be in love with one another by the end of the novel, but that love would never have bloomed if either of them was of a much lower social class. Mr. Knightley, being single even into what we can calculate to be his mid-life, is clearly not in a rush to marry the first beautiful, witty woman who comes along; and Emma, until realizing that other women might be interested in him, is not disposed to marry at all, even believing that he wouldn’t be either and that his power must be inherited by her nephews. Not until her fear of his marrying might be realized does her jealousy prompt her to grasp her affections.
Money and power are truly all there is to have in Highbury, and a match between Emma and Mr. Knightley most conveniently ties that fortune up permanently in their two families.
The marriage of Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill may also be called into question in light of the “why?” of their matrimony. At best, Frank Churchill has moral potential, and at worst, Jane Fairfax occasionally lets her emotions get the best of her. Averbach suggests Frank may gain discipline in their match, but to assume so would also be in contrary to the Frank that we know as readers. Even despite his letter to his new step-mother that she accepts, it is fairly obvious he hasn’t actually learned much from his ignoble actions.
To suggest that Jane will gain anything from their match is of course valid, but playfulness is neither what she will gain nor what she needs. What Frank has, and what will help her escape a life of governess-ship, is wealth and independence (once his mother passes, that is). Even if one views their situation with critical eyes, Frank’s ability to rescue her from the horrors of the Smallridge children and take her to a home where she will live very comfortably, can only be viewed as a knight-in-shining-armor act.
After how Jane was treated by Frank with regards to his flirtatious behavior with Emma, love alone could not move the Jane that we have known to forgive him. If Frank was inferior to her social situation, she never could have, but I believe his wealth made his apology impossible to refuse. Until this moment in the novel, we can only see her as an upright woman of fine values and a decent upbringing. Her sudden forgiveness of the man who has slighted her all along is all too convenient when accompanied by his newfound liberation from his mother. Again, love may be a driving force in their relationship; however, it cannot possibly be the only force that commits them to marriage.
As for the marriage of Harriet Smith and Robert Martin: I would have to throw Averbach the proverbial bone in admitting that of the three, only their marriage could potentially be made exclusive of power and money. After all, while Robert’s station is probably secure, more or less, as a humble farmer, Harriet is a social wild card. Throughout most of the novel – even when Martin had proposed to her to begin with – we are unaware what her lineage or economic standing is, other than she is a student at Mrs. Goddard’s. Emma imagines she may be the wealthy daughter of a nobleman, but we all know where Emma’s imagination may lead us and may be inclined to agree with Mr. Knightley’s assessment that it is a wild assumption to conclude it as a real possibility. Without knowing or understanding Harriet’s standing – and clearly without even caring – Martin committed himself to Harriet, proving his love for her is exclusive of her social standing. And what is more, without Emma’s influence otherwise, Harriet clearly would have married Martin, acknowledging affection and a sense of comfort both with him and with his sisters. Their lower position in society may lead one to believe that the only thing they have to lose is one another.
While Averbach makes some valid points on the function of marriage in Austen’s novel, I would ultimately have to rule her interpretation of the give-and-take match between these three couples is simplistic at best. There are complications that she does not address, though she does backtrack a bit at the end while discussing the conversation about celibacy and marriage between Emma and Harriet; her assessment is, “Remove poverty as a factor and women acquire the freedom to say no” (441), therefore admitting in a roundabout way that overall, money and power have the ultimate influence on marriage.
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