Emma

I cannot believe that I am arisen at this early hour, with nothing to watch on the Idiot Box but the movie, "Emma," with Gwyneth Paltrow. I rarely peruse this particular effort of Hollywood to its natural conclusion, because of its sopophoric effect. It has very pretty costumes, and, I believe, quite realistic. Though the movie seems to have a dearth of ladies of generous proportion; a situation I deplore, because I would like to see the fashions of the early 1800's displayed with veracity. Not to put too fine a point upon it, Regency gowns are less than flattering on the larger ladies. They did have large ladies in those days of yore, did they not? Not, of course, as many as we have today, but such must have existed.

Quite apart from that anomaly, my main objection to this movie, and it is a strenuous one, is that the characters seem to spend an inordinate amount of time whispering. Long and complex conversations which are absolutely essential to plot development are delivered in such low tones that I feel the necessity of increasing the volume. I get caught by surprise by the next performance on the pianoforte, which is, of course, forte. It becomes a question of keeping the remote control handy at all times.

I came late to Jane Austen's writing, having become addicted to the Regency romances of Georgette Heyer, which I enjoyed for their wit and use of 19th Century vernacular. I realized when I read "Pride and Prejudice," that these were the Regency romances upon which all others are modelled. Further, when they were written, they were contemporary romances. I find that exquisitely amusing.

These new movies based on her stories are lovingly made, as to period, with great attention paid to set decoration, costume, and lighting. But, oh, they do drag on!