let me tell you a story.
the name Emma reminds me of glowing pink cheeks, sunlight on a winters day and pink and white flowers. so this is a story about beautiful Emma.
Emma grew up around beautiful people ; inside-out. These were people she wanted to be like , to grow up into. Emma grew up optimistically wishing and believing in a happy perfect tomorrow. That some day she will grow up to be a commendable young woman , perfect and wise, knowledgeable and correct. oh! the obsession this young one had with perfection ; "god's pink-innocent promise of perfection". My Emma bears much in common with her Jane Austen counterpart. Don't get too optimistic ,there is no lovely Mister Knightly here , who will coax her to perfection. This is reality, and in reality there are no Knightlys or Darcys. In reality there is only the 'Heathcliffe'. Emily Bronte, was a woman right in her head. extreme but correct.
because truly in reality your gorgeous all-knowing Emma is actually a 'Catherine', your glorious Mister Knightly is actually a 'Heathcliffe' and if your life has the misfortune of having an 'another' then he is undoubtedly 'poor-mister-Linton'.
Coming back to our Emma and her perfect dreams. as she grew up her dreams were more clear to her. she yearned for knowledge , happiness and like any beautiful beautiful girl; she dreamt of a gorgeous wedding and her very own 'Knightly' . As time passed Emma realised that although she pursued correctness and unflawed beauty; inside she very much the opposite. Emma was quite the dark, Victorian, eccentric and loner ; Miss Catherine Earnshaw. And if you put the story together, she found her soul in her Heathcliffe , all her happiness and joy and a reflection of her own self. But she knew this could never be. she was expected to marry a Knightly naturally. No one would allow it. so they find a poor representation of Austen's Knightly in a man who is originally Bronte's Linton.
but tell you what , my Emma was a lil' smarter than shoddy old Catherine Earnshaw.
she knew life was more than pink and silvers dreams. Linton was no good and her dream wedding belonged to someone else. it was a sign that Emma must find a more rational dream that played in her favour where she did not have to break tradition to be with a Heathcliffe, or try too hard to be happy or liked. where she did not have to seek approval but live life on her own terms with her own kind of perfection.
the new dream was not a sappy old love story, although there was the Heathcliffe.
And all who read would know that heathcliffe is no emotional fool, he is more than just a love interest. take that away Heathcliffe is Catherine's very own soul and person and mind.
So my Emma left her godly ,perfect and now suffocating world , left sad Linton and people's expectations behind. to live ALONE.
For she realised that she worked best, alone and with her books of knowledge and the promise that her Heathcliffe may not be present but he is not very far. And that was assurance enough. This Emma was was not pink and silver and like sunlight. She was grey and hard as the stone walls of an old castle, white as country winter, silent yet deep like yellowed pages of a book. she was not Austen's or Bronte's..... she was her own.
Alone, perfect and content!!!!
the name Emma reminds me of glowing pink cheeks, sunlight on a winters day and pink and white flowers. so this is a story about beautiful Emma.
Emma grew up around beautiful people ; inside-out. These were people she wanted to be like , to grow up into. Emma grew up optimistically wishing and believing in a happy perfect tomorrow. That some day she will grow up to be a commendable young woman , perfect and wise, knowledgeable and correct. oh! the obsession this young one had with perfection ; "god's pink-innocent promise of perfection". My Emma bears much in common with her Jane Austen counterpart. Don't get too optimistic ,there is no lovely Mister Knightly here , who will coax her to perfection. This is reality, and in reality there are no Knightlys or Darcys. In reality there is only the 'Heathcliffe'. Emily Bronte, was a woman right in her head. extreme but correct.
because truly in reality your gorgeous all-knowing Emma is actually a 'Catherine', your glorious Mister Knightly is actually a 'Heathcliffe' and if your life has the misfortune of having an 'another' then he is undoubtedly 'poor-mister-Linton'.
Coming back to our Emma and her perfect dreams. as she grew up her dreams were more clear to her. she yearned for knowledge , happiness and like any beautiful beautiful girl; she dreamt of a gorgeous wedding and her very own 'Knightly' . As time passed Emma realised that although she pursued correctness and unflawed beauty; inside she very much the opposite. Emma was quite the dark, Victorian, eccentric and loner ; Miss Catherine Earnshaw. And if you put the story together, she found her soul in her Heathcliffe , all her happiness and joy and a reflection of her own self. But she knew this could never be. she was expected to marry a Knightly naturally. No one would allow it. so they find a poor representation of Austen's Knightly in a man who is originally Bronte's Linton.
but tell you what , my Emma was a lil' smarter than shoddy old Catherine Earnshaw.
she knew life was more than pink and silvers dreams. Linton was no good and her dream wedding belonged to someone else. it was a sign that Emma must find a more rational dream that played in her favour where she did not have to break tradition to be with a Heathcliffe, or try too hard to be happy or liked. where she did not have to seek approval but live life on her own terms with her own kind of perfection.
the new dream was not a sappy old love story, although there was the Heathcliffe.
And all who read would know that heathcliffe is no emotional fool, he is more than just a love interest. take that away Heathcliffe is Catherine's very own soul and person and mind.
So my Emma left her godly ,perfect and now suffocating world , left sad Linton and people's expectations behind. to live ALONE.
For she realised that she worked best, alone and with her books of knowledge and the promise that her Heathcliffe may not be present but he is not very far. And that was assurance enough. This Emma was was not pink and silver and like sunlight. She was grey and hard as the stone walls of an old castle, white as country winter, silent yet deep like yellowed pages of a book. she was not Austen's or Bronte's..... she was her own.
Alone, perfect and content!!!!
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