Emma

by Jane Austen Narrated by Laurence Krambule

Overview

Notes From Your Bookseller

Jane Austen’s sass and satire are always wonderful companions, and nowhere are they more prominent than in Emma, the story of a hapless matchmaker and her genuine attempts to spark love. It’s heartfelt, hilarious and an endearing classic.

On a beau être belle, intelligente et riche, il reste à faire l'apprentissage des caractères et des relations pour soi-même connaître l'amour.
Jeune, célibataire, fortunée et quelque peu dés¿uvrée, Emma Woodhouse est maintenant la maîtresse de maison de Hartfield où elle vit avec son père, hypocondriaque et de nature inquiète. Seuls M. Knightley et les Weston viennent fréquemment leur rendre visite, ce qui est toujours l'occasion de longues conversations à deux avec M. Knightley.
Emma s'imagine douée pour faire l'entremetteuse dans son cercle de connaissances. Son intérêt se porte d'abord sur la jeune Harriet Smith, qu'elle imaginerait bien avec le clergyman M. Elton. Elle cherche donc à rapprocher les deux jeunes gens à force de prétextes multiples. Mais Emma n'est en fait pas experte dans les choses de l'amour, ni du caractère des gens. Elle commence à accumuler les erreurs, les déconvenues et les surprises, souvent à sa grande gêne et de manière assez comique. Cela ne l'empêche pas de continuer à imaginer des relations improbables.
Dernier roman publié par Jane Austen de son vivant, Emma est encore une fois une démonstration de son talent. Talent pour décrire la vie et les m¿urs d'une certaine classe de la population anglaise, mais aussi pour tirer des portraits fins, ironiques et pleins d'humour. Délicieusement drôle, Emma témoigne de la finesse d'esprit et de l'ironie délicate qui ont fait de Jane Austen un maître du roman anglais. Bien que Jane Austen ait pensé qu'elle seule aimerait son héroïne pleine d'esprit, de fantaisie et d'illusions, Emma a gagné l'affection de générations de lecteurs.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

"Austen's characters are unquestionably one key to her greatness. Her understanding of the human heart is forensic and also frosted with the necessary detachment that gives deeper meaning to her rendering of human frailty . . . In Emma, Jane Austen shows us the halting development of an adolescent girl from perky narcissism to something approaching empathy."  —Guardian



"How could these novels ever seem remote . . . the gaiety is unextinguished today, the irony has kept its bite, the reasoning is still sweet, the sparkle undiminished, as comedies they are irresistibly and as nearly flawless as any fiction could be."  —Eudora Welty



"[Jane Austen] has a talent for describing the involvements of feelings and characters of ordinary life which is to me the most wonderful I ever met with."  —Sir Walter Scott

"It is the cleverest of books. I especially love the dialogue — every speech reveals the characters’ obsessions and preoccupations, yet it remains perfectly natural . . . absolutely gripping."  —Susannah Clarke



"For those of us who suspect all the mysteries of life are contained in the microcosm of the family, that personal relationships prefigure all else, the work of Jane Austen is the Rosetta Stone of literature."  —Anna Quindlen



"I'd like to write a play as perfect as Emma."  —Simon Gray

AudioFile

No one creates silly English characters better than Austen, and Wanda McCaddon is up to the challenge.

E. M. Forster

Jane Austen is my favorite author!”

EM Forster

Jane Austen is my favorite author! ... Shut up in measureless content, I greet her by the name of most kind hostess, while criticism slumbers.”

Guardian (London)

Austen's characters are unquestionably one key to her greatness.”

FEB/MAR 99 - AudioFile

Jane Austen's novels have long been fodder for transference to other media. The same quality that makes such adaptation a good idea also makes it difficult--her elusive tone. When is she kidding? When serious? How to communicate what Sir Walter Scott called "that exquisite touch which renders ordinary, commonplace things and characters interesting?" Performance pros struggle with it as much as everybody else. For this reason, Prunella Scales's interpretation of Emma is most welcome. Scales "nails" it, as actors say. One of England's finest actresses, Scales hits the right note from the beginning and unerringly follows the author's amusing and insightful trajectory to the very end. There are no actorly pyrotechnics here, just Jane Austen, which is certainly good enough for me. Y.R. Winner of AUDIOFILE Earphones Award ©AudioFile, Portland, Maine

Product Details

BN ID:	2940193367277
Publisher:	Independently Published
Publication date:	10/12/2024
Edition description:	Unabridged
Language:	French

Read an Excerpt

Volume One

Chapter One

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.

She was the youngest of the two daughters of a most affectionate, indulgent father; and had, in consequence of her sister's marriage, been mistress of his house from a very early period. Her mother had died too long ago for her to have more than an indistinct remembrance of her caresses; and her place had been supplied by an excellent woman as governess, who had fallen little short of a mother in affection.

Sixteen years had Miss Taylor been in Mr. Woodhouse's family, less as a governess than a friend, very fond of both daughters, but particularly of Emma. Between them it was more the intimacy of sisters. Even before Miss Taylor had ceased to hold the nominal office of governess, the mildness of her temper had hardly allowed her to impose any restraint; and the shadow of authority being now long passed away, they had been living together as friend and friend very mutually attached, and Emma doing just what she liked; highly esteeming Miss Taylor's judgment, but directed chiefly by her own.

The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to her many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with her.

Sorrow came—a gentlesorrow—but not at all in the shape of any disagreeable consciousness.—Miss Taylor married. It was Miss Taylor's loss which first brought grief. It was on the wedding-day of this beloved friend that Emma first sat in mournful thought of any continuance. The wedding over, and the bride-people gone, her father and herself were left to dine together, with no prospect of a third to cheer a long evening. Her father composed himself to sleep after dinner, as usual, and she had then only to sit and think of what she had lost.

The event had every promise of happiness for her friend. Mr. Weston was a man of unexceptionable character, easy fortune, suitable age, and pleasant manners; and there was some satisfaction in considering with what self-denying, generous friendship she had always wished and promoted the match; but it was a black morning's work for her. The want of Miss Taylor would be felt every hour of every day. She recalled her past kindness—the kindness, the affection of sixteen years—how she had taught and how she had played with her from five years old—how she had devoted all her powers to attach and amuse her in health—and how nursed her through the various illnesses of childhood. A large debt of gratitude was owing here; but the intercourse of the last seven years, the equal footing and perfect unreserve which had soon followed Isabella's marriage, on their being left to each other, was yet a dearer, tenderer recollection. She had been a friend and companion such as few possessed: intelligent, well-informed, useful, gentle, knowing all the ways of the family, interested in all its concerns, and peculiarly interested in herself, in every pleasure, every scheme of hers—one to whom she could speak every thought as it arose, and who had such an affection for her as could never find fault.

How was she to bear the change?—It was true that her friend was going only half a mile from them; but Emma was aware that great must be the difference between a Mrs. Weston, only half a mile from them, and a Miss Taylor in the house; and with all her advantages, natural and domestic, she was now in great danger of suffering from intellectual solitude. She dearly loved her father, but he was no companion for her. He could not meet her in conversation, rational or playful.

The evil of the actual disparity in their ages (and Mr. Woodhouse had not married early) was much increased by his constitution and habits; for having been a valetudinarian all hi's life, without activity of mind or body, he was a much older man in ways than in years; and though everywhere beloved for the friendliness of his heart and his amiable temper, his talents could not have recommended him at any time.

Her sister, though comparatively but little removed by matrimony, being settled in London, only sixteen miles off, was much beyond her daily reach; and many a long October and November evening must be struggled through at Hartfield, before Christmas brought the next visit from Isabella and her husband, and their little children, to fill the house, and give her pleasant society again.

Highbury, the large and populous village, almost amounting to a town, to which Hartfield, in spite of its separate lawn, and shrubberies, and name, did really belong, afforded her no equals. The Woodhouses were first in consequence there. All looked up to them. She had many acquaintance in the place, for her father was universally civil, but not one among them who could be accepted in lieu of Miss Taylor for even half a day. It was a melancholy change; and Emma could not but sigh over it, and wish for impossible things, till her father awoke, and made it necessary to be cheerful. His spirits required support. He was a nervous man, easily depressed; fond of every body that he was used to, and hating to part with them; hating change of every kind. Matrimony, as the origin of change, was always disagreeable; and he was by no means yet reconciled to his own daughter's marrying, nor could ever speak of her but with compassion. . .

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