Story: 8.5/10
I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy; as a child I would be in
the garden playing with frogs instead of hosting a tea party for my dollies.
Now in my mid-twenties, while I no longer try to pet any unwilling amphibian in
my path, I am still more likely to be diving headfirst into a sea of shounen
goodness rather than weeping my way through romantic dramas. However, one
lusciously ladylike love story manages to break through my many boyish layers
and tug at my very heartstrings. It’s clear that Emma is something
special.
The plot revolves around the straightforward premise of a
forbidden and unobtainable love between a Victorian gentleman and a lowly
housemaid. Naturally, the pair faces various obstacles in the form of
disapproving parents, rivals for their affections, and physical separation. It
doesn’t sound particularly innovative or enthralling at this point; in fact it
seems like a breeding ground for clichés – and in a way it is – but Emma’s
execution makes any formulaic elements wholly forgivable.
The mangaka, Kaoru Mori, maintains a sense of realism
throughout the narrative – even when a young Indian prince rides through the
centre of London on the back of an elephant. Emma is entirely sensible about
her situation; while she would love nothing more than to be with William, she
knows that their difference in status means it cannot happen. Their road to
romance isn’t simple and mostly seems entirely hopeless – every time they take
a step towards their dream the repercussions are waiting in the shadows to send
them two paces back.
Mori also utilises periods of solitude and silence to great
effect, proving that sometimes less is more. Through private interludes such as
Emma getting ready for bed, the mangaka develops the central relationship in a
much deeper manner than simply focusing on sections of dialogue or action.
Ultimately these scenes are far more touching and beautiful than any of the
bigger or more obvious plot points, yet they are just as important.
Art: 10/10
Kaoru Mori’s artwork in Emma is truly something to
behold and one of the few occasions where the manga’s art heightens the
emotional attachment its reader has to the narrative. Its visual style fits
perfectly with the story’s tone, with gentle character designs mirroring the
softer plot. Mori doesn’t use hard or thick lines, but instead applies a more
delicate approach, which not only ideally depicts the genteel nature of the
Victorian era, but also conveys the complete adoration she has for what she’s
drawing.
Emma boasts an impressive variety of images, which
greatly enhance the narrative. Vast panels depicting a moonlit Crystal Palace
or the servants dancing at a party reflect Emma’s world widening, whereas close
up frames of dirty plates in the kitchens portraying the everyday drudgery of a
maid’s life. Especially worthy of praise is Mori’s ability to handle the plot’s
most emotional moments with such gentle elegance. She uses a variety of shots
from a full page image to give maximum impact to smaller more voyeuristic
frames, such as those only showing the lower half of characters’ faces. Mori
knows exactly how to convey the intimacy of the situation, for instance in one
particular image depicting a kissing scene she chooses to focus not on the
lips, but on the hands, which adds an extra sensory reaction so it’s like the
reader can actually feel the kiss as well as see it.
The attention to detail throughout is impeccable and
encapsulates the era down to the last gas lamp. Mori never cuts corners so the
readers get to immerse themselves in Emma’s world and experience every flower
on the wallpaper, every frill on a corset, every bead of a necklace. With
screentone adding a subtle, tonal depth to the beautiful imagery every panel of
Emma’s ten volumes carries the same exquisite level of quality
throughout.
Characters: 9/10
Emma’s characters make this manga so compelling. Emma
herself displays such genuine kindness, sincerity and modesty, that she is
likable without becoming one of those flat and irritating ‘nice’ characters
that so often waste the ink they’re drawn with. She is also the epitome of a
true English woman; though utterly in love with William, she sucks it up and
gets on with her life quietly pining in private instead of indulging in girlish
fantasies and crying an ocean of tears deep enough to sink the Titanic. As a
reader you can’t help but feel for Emma and cheer her on in her plight.
By comparison, William is quite the opposite of his love;
naïve, bumbling and somewhat spineless, the poor sod doesn’t really have all
that much going for him. However, while this should be a major deficit,
William’s flaky personality actually works in regards to the story. He is
everything that an heir of the gentry should not be; he’s fanciful and much to
his father’s dismay prioritises love and happiness over social standing. Caught
between a rock and an even bigger, snootier rock, William has to try and do
what’s best for the family, but his inept methods of doing so coupled with his
inability to put on a stiff upper lip and bury his feelings makes William a
lovable oaf well worthy of our heroine’s affections.
Aside from the protagonists, Emma has a reasonable
sized secondary cast. Though the main story places primary focus on just a
handful of people, those who play a smaller part in the central narrative
receive more development and ‘page time’ in the final three volumes, which are
actually a collection of side stories. These extra tales give more of an
insight into the minor characters and what happens to them after the ‘end’ of
the story, which just makes the whole Emma universe that much more real
and engaging.
Overall: 9.2/10
Though there are maids a-plenty, there isn’t a single frilly
garter or ‘Goshujinsama’ in sight. If searching for romance with
beautiful artwork then look no further. Granted, the tale of William and Emma’s
love isn’t as epic as Romeo and Juliet, but the narrative’s quiet grace makes Emma burrow its way into your heart.
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