In Philippians 4:8 it is written--
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
These notebooks were inspired from a desire to have about me more of what is honest, pure, lovely, of good report, and the rest.
I have picked up many journals and notebooks across my life because they possessed a spectacular cover or binding. But I was captivated by the exterior only to be terribly disappointed by the utterly blank interior. You would think the disappointment would have dulled after many years, but the horror persists that such lovely exteriors possess no comparable interiors.
Though plain, undecorated notebooks are always useful, they really don't add anything to my life. I don't know about you, but I am very tired of settling for the mundane. These notebooks were created because those here at Journaling with the Classics love color and because we find many books the better for having illustrations. Some things, of course, are best left to the imagination; but a degree of artwork helps bring a narrative to life. It sets the stage, supplies context, and often inspires thoughts when they have, say, run dry in the process of writing an essay.
So if you purchase one or two, I hope you enjoy them as much as we have. Use them to take notes on the stories from which they were derived, whether for a personal study or in the process of writing a paper on the novel. Or use them to record those quotes and passages meaningful to you. Or use them as personal journals. It is our prayer that you just enjoy them because someone understood that you needed a little color added to your life.
To me, Austen's Emma has always been a story about friendship, and Emma has many friends: her former governess, Mrs Weston (nee Taylor); neighbor, extended family, and in general, family friend, Mr Knightley; the minister, Mr Elton (a friend of sorts anyway); Mr Frank Churchill, Mr Weston's son; impoverished but well-bred Miss Bates; Miss Bates' niece, Jane Fairfax; and poor-born girl, Harriet Smith--upon all these souls Emma diligently labors to exercise friendship to the best of her ability. And she diligently fails. Emma is not a story of how good a friend Miss Woodhouse is to her friends as it is of how her friends are so very good to her.
Harriet Smith is a young woman, who, having been severed by Emma from the young man best suited for her (and whom Harriet really does like), is made to believe by Emma's encouragement to be the focus of a socially higher man's affection, only to have this attachment prove false. It is Emma's interference that confuses and saddens her poor friend, and for a time, makes it appear as though Harriet, on the way to being well-established (given her social status), is worse off than before she met Emma. It is easy to see that Harriet is a girl who does not with confidence know her own mind. Nevertheless, many such souls have easily perceived a lesser wrong done them than Miss Woodhouse did to Harriet. Yet Harriet remains utterly devoted to Miss Woodhouse without an ounce of bitterness or scrap of accusation throughout the romantic disappointments, even though her best opportunity for marriage might now be lost.
Jane Fairfax is probably the most suited of the Emma cast to be in Miss Woodhouse's society when she is staying with her elderly aunts in the village of Highbury. Though poor, she is quiet and refined--in short, not of the type to compete for the attention Emma seems to take for granted is hers when she is among her friends. Emma may have the light shine on her as she will, for Jane will not cast her shadow between it and the eminent Miss Woodhouse. Miss Fairfax's refinements qualify her as a friend to Emma if her income does not. Even so, it is Emma who enters into a competition against Jane for the attentions of one Mr Frank Churchill. Granted the gentleman's intentions remain unstated toward his real love, and the affection of both parties must be kept a strict secret for a reason wholly unretlated to Emma. So how was Emma to know his heart was already spoken for? Still, her attitude toward Miss Fairfax, as well as her responses to Frank's unkind remarks toward Jane in an attempt to throw from himself any suspicion of involvement, are clear: despite Emma's higher status and income, she considers impoverished, working-class Jane to be a social enemy than a friend. This is all the more apparent as she does not seem to possess true romantic affection for Frank Churchill. She merely likes his attentions. And though Jane has every reason to resent Emma when the truth finally emerges of which lady has Mr Churchill's heart, she graciously waves it all away.
Then there is Jane's aunt, Miss Bates. Though talkative about everyday matters in a way that thoroughly bores others, good will is consistently extended to her because she herself possesses so much of it toward others. She was born relatively well (daughter of a vicar), but has never had any substantial income. She has no quick wit or beauty to recommend her either. She is simply a person who desires the happiness of all those she knows. Miss Woodhouse has received her compliments her whole life; and she exercises all the patience and good will she can summon, especially for the sake of her father, who enjoys Miss Bates' talk of life's little matters. Yet finally, goaded by a jealousy she did not know quite how to name, goaded by Frank, and bored to impatience by the dull company comprising their picnic outing on a hot day (including Frank, who fails to amuse her as he usually does), she insults Miss Bates to her face in the company of all. It is such that even self-deprecating Miss Bates cannot fail to notice it and to feel the hurt. And what happens? Miss Bates blames herself, not Miss Woodhouse, for the whole thing.
Finally, there is Mr. Knightley. He is a devoted family friend who will at a moment's notice when able, render any service he can to the Woodhouses. He is part of the family, both figuratively and literally, since Emma's older sister married his younger brother. He is the only person who will tell Emma to think less of herself and more of those around her. He is also, perhaps, the only man Emma truly respects. Yet Emma, accustomed to having him around, cannot see that he shows greater patiality toward her than he does any other woman. In truth, the reader is tempted to conclude that their relationship is one such that she does not want him herself as a husband, but neither does she wish him to marry anyone else. And at the end, the reader is also ready to conclude that he was aware of her attitude all along, far better than she was. And what happens? He receives her with open arms when she is finally ready.
Miss Emma Woodhouse is one of Austen's most flawed heroines. Catherine Morland is naive, and Marianne Dashwood is excessively romantic; but arguably neither possess the egotistic attitude Emma nurtures toward herself. Though she intends to be a good friend to those of her circle, she fails miserably. Yet how do her friends respond? They are the epitome of the principle taught in I Peter 4:8--"And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins."
To me, Austen's Emma has always been a story about friendship, and Emma has many friends: her former governess, Mrs Weston (nee Taylor); neighbor, extended family, and in general, family friend, Mr Knightley; the minister, Mr Elton (a friend of sorts anyway); Mr Frank Churchill, Mr Weston's son; impoverished but well-bred Miss Bates; Miss Bates' niece, Jane Fairfax; and poor-born girl, Harriet Smith--upon all these souls Emma diligently labors to exercise friendship to the best of her ability. And she diligently fails. Emma is not a story of how good a friend Miss Woodhouse is to her friends as it is of how her friends are so very good to her.
Harriet Smith is a young woman, who, having been severed by Emma from the young man best suited for her (and whom Harriet really does like), is made to believe by Emma's encouragement to be the focus of a socially higher man's affection, only to have this attachment prove false. It is Emma's interference that confuses and saddens her poor friend, and for a time, makes it appear as though Harriet, on the way to being well-established (given her social status), is worse off than before she met Emma. It is easy to see that Harriet is a girl who does not with confidence know her own mind. Nevertheless, many such souls have easily perceived a lesser wrong done them than Miss Woodhouse did to Harriet. Yet Harriet remains utterly devoted to Miss Woodhouse without an ounce of bitterness or scrap of accusation throughout the romantic disappointments, even though her best opportunity for marriage might now be lost.
Jane Fairfax is probably the most suited of the Emma cast to be in Miss Woodhouse's society when she is staying with her elderly aunts in the village of Highbury. Though poor, she is quiet and refined--in short, not of the type to compete for the attention Emma seems to take for granted is hers when she is among her friends. Emma may have the light shine on her as she will, for Jane will not cast her shadow between it and the eminent Miss Woodhouse. Miss Fairfax's refinements qualify her as a friend to Emma if her income does not. Even so, it is Emma who enters into a competition against Jane for the attentions of one Mr Frank Churchill. Granted the gentleman's intentions remain unstated toward his real love, and the affection of both parties must be kept a strict secret for a reason wholly unretlated to Emma. So how was Emma to know his heart was already spoken for? Still, her attitude toward Miss Fairfax, as well as her responses to Frank's unkind remarks toward Jane in an attempt to throw from himself any suspicion of involvement, are clear: despite Emma's higher status and income, she considers impoverished, working-class Jane to be a social enemy than a friend. This is all the more apparent as she does not seem to possess true romantic affection for Frank Churchill. She merely likes his attentions. And though Jane has every reason to resent Emma when the truth finally emerges of which lady has Mr Churchill's heart, she graciously waves it all away.
Then there is Jane's aunt, Miss Bates. Though talkative about everyday matters in a way that thoroughly bores others, good will is consistently extended to her because she herself possesses so much of it toward others. She was born relatively well (daughter of a vicar), but has never had any substantial income. She has no quick wit or beauty to recommend her either. She is simply a person who desires the happiness of all those she knows. Miss Woodhouse has received her compliments her whole life; and she exercises all the patience and good will she can summon, especially for the sake of her father, who enjoys Miss Bates' talk of life's little matters. Yet finally, goaded by a jealousy she did not know quite how to name, goaded by Frank, and bored to impatience by the dull company comprising their picnic outing on a hot day (including Frank, who fails to amuse her as he usually does), she insults Miss Bates to her face in the company of all. It is such that even self-deprecating Miss Bates cannot fail to notice it and to feel the hurt. And what happens? Miss Bates blames herself, not Miss Woodhouse, for the whole thing.
Finally, there is Mr. Knightley. He is a devoted family friend who will at a moment's notice when able, render any service he can to the Woodhouses. He is part of the family, both figuratively and literally, since Emma's older sister married his younger brother. He is the only person who will tell Emma to think less of herself and more of those around her. He is also, perhaps, the only man Emma truly respects. Yet Emma, accustomed to having him around, cannot see that he shows greater patiality toward her than he does any other woman. In truth, the reader is tempted to conclude that their relationship is one such that she does not want him herself as a husband, but neither does she wish him to marry anyone else. And at the end, the reader is also ready to conclude that he was aware of her attitude all along, far better than she was. And what happens? He receives her with open arms when she is finally ready.
Miss Emma Woodhouse is one of Austen's most flawed heroines. Catherine Morland is naive, and Marianne Dashwood is excessively romantic; but arguably neither possess the egotistic attitude Emma nurtures toward herself. Though she intends to be a good friend to those of her circle, she fails miserably. Yet how do her friends respond? They are the epitome of the principle taught in I Peter 4:8--"And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins."
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