15 August 2005
On Jane Austen's Emma and professions for young women
In Emma, Jane Fairfax is a kind of secondary character, a mirror against which the protagonist compares herself. While Emma is suitably well-off to live a life of leisure, Jane will have to become a governess, unless she can somehow snatch a wealthy husband-- she's an orphan and, though "well-bred," her adoptive family can't afford to support her.
In the novel, people shake their heads and say, "tsk, tsk, poor Jane Fairfax"-- a girl has really come on hard times if she has to work to survive financially, even in the most genteel occupation for women at the time.
Jane describes the prospects of her search for a post with the stoicism of someone volunteering for the Russian army during WWII-- sure, you'll be shot at and maybe freeze to death, but at least it's a job:
"When I am quite determined as to the time, I am not at all afraid of being long unemployed. There are places in town, offices, where inquiry would soon produce something-- offices for the sale, not quite of human flesh, but of human intellect."
Her listeners are shocked. Comparing the slave trade to the "governess-trade," she says, "… as to the greater misery of the victims, I do not know where it lies."
Then, a woman's merit was measured by the position of her husband or father; now, we are measured by the so-called prestige of our occupation and the long hours we work. It's no more, "those poor girls who have to work for a living," but, "those poor girls who can't find enough work."
This directly relates to my life and that of many friends and acquaintances who are recently graduated from college. When I first read Jane's statement about "the sale of human flesh," I immediately associated it with prostitution (but this being Jane Austen, I knew it could not be so). But, as we've all been advertising our skills around, hoping someone will pay us for the services of our knowledge and training, the whole situation does seem like a form of intellectual prostitution.
We fortunate enough to have a college education are like the upper-echelon courtesans: we cater to the lawyers, financiers, government officials, publishers. Woe betide she sans B.A.-- she's hardly more valued for her intellect than the girl on the corner. But, bottom-line, we're all whoring out our minds, to a certain extent. And it will be so as long as we're working low-level, hourly-wage jobs.
In Emma, Jane Fairfax is a kind of secondary character, a mirror against which the protagonist compares herself. While Emma is suitably well-off to live a life of leisure, Jane will have to become a governess, unless she can somehow snatch a wealthy husband-- she's an orphan and, though "well-bred," her adoptive family can't afford to support her.
In the novel, people shake their heads and say, "tsk, tsk, poor Jane Fairfax"-- a girl has really come on hard times if she has to work to survive financially, even in the most genteel occupation for women at the time.
Jane describes the prospects of her search for a post with the stoicism of someone volunteering for the Russian army during WWII-- sure, you'll be shot at and maybe freeze to death, but at least it's a job:
"When I am quite determined as to the time, I am not at all afraid of being long unemployed. There are places in town, offices, where inquiry would soon produce something-- offices for the sale, not quite of human flesh, but of human intellect."
Her listeners are shocked. Comparing the slave trade to the "governess-trade," she says, "… as to the greater misery of the victims, I do not know where it lies."
Then, a woman's merit was measured by the position of her husband or father; now, we are measured by the so-called prestige of our occupation and the long hours we work. It's no more, "those poor girls who have to work for a living," but, "those poor girls who can't find enough work."
This directly relates to my life and that of many friends and acquaintances who are recently graduated from college. When I first read Jane's statement about "the sale of human flesh," I immediately associated it with prostitution (but this being Jane Austen, I knew it could not be so). But, as we've all been advertising our skills around, hoping someone will pay us for the services of our knowledge and training, the whole situation does seem like a form of intellectual prostitution.
We fortunate enough to have a college education are like the upper-echelon courtesans: we cater to the lawyers, financiers, government officials, publishers. Woe betide she sans B.A.-- she's hardly more valued for her intellect than the girl on the corner. But, bottom-line, we're all whoring out our minds, to a certain extent. And it will be so as long as we're working low-level, hourly-wage jobs.
