No holds barred! Winner take all! Battle to the death for the…
wait…
did she just say “death”?! Hold-up. Ok, so maybe sometimes I like to blend Jane Austen with WWF. You know. How one does….
Ok, shenanigans aside, let’s get down to it!
Will the real Harriet Smith please stand up?
Before we can evaluate the on-screen renditions of Miss Harriet Smith, we must first discover what Austen herself tells us to expect. After all, I am nothing if not married to each and every word of these texts, so I can tell you right now that whichever actor best embodies Austen’s vision of Harriet will have a hefty hand in her corner.
“As she sat one morning, looking forward to exactly such a close of the present day, a note was brought from Mrs. Goddard, requesting, in most respectful terms, to be allowed to bring Miss Smith with her; a most welcome request: for Miss Smith was a girl of seventeen, whom Emma knew very well by sight, and had long felt an interest in, on account of her beauty. A very gracious invitation was returned, and the evening no longer dreaded by the fair mistress of the mansion.” (Austen, chapter 3)
So – first clue – Harriet Smith must be beautiful. And if Emma thinks she’s beautiful, she must be actually quite beautiful.
From Mr. Elton, we hear:
“You have given Miss Smith all that she required,” said he; “you have made her graceful and easy. She was a beautiful creature when she came to you, but, in my opinion, the attractions you have added are infinitely superior to what she received from nature.” (Austen, chapter 6)
From Mrs. Weston:
“Miss Woodhouse has given her friend the only beauty she wanted,”—observed Mrs. Weston to him—not in the least suspecting that she was addressing a lover.—“The expression of the eye is most correct, but Miss Smith has not those eyebrows and eyelashes. It is the fault of her face that she has them not.” (Austen, chapter 6)
This last is my particular favorite for Mrs. Weston is really grasping here to find a fault. In that final sentence, we ought to read it as “It is the [sole] fault of her face that she has them not.” In that line, Mrs. Weston is not indicating that Harriet’s face has made some extraordinary effort to mar the eyebrows and lashes, but merely that it is the only fault of her face, the only part of her beauty that could dare be criticized.
Ok, so we have two critical clues from these quotes: Harriet is beautiful, acknowledged to be so by both Emma and Mr. Elton, and that she has lacklust eyebrows and lashes.
To that end, Louise Dylan who plays Harriet in the PBS Masterpiece version best captures the beauty of Miss Smith:
However, both Toni Collette and Mia Goth present us with pretty, unaffected, artless girls, just as Austen describes. But in terms of which actor gave us Harriet’s trademark brows and lashes??
Mia Goth by far!
Poor Child! The makeup artists certainly accomplished this critical detail with Goth and I am mightily curious as to whether she lost her brows to wax, the razor, or dye. Alas…will we ever know?
Beyond that, each of these actors brings a delightful blend of naivety and ignorance to their portrayal of Harriet Smith. Whereas I have to give Dylan the prime spot as Harriet as emobdying both the beauty and ditziness, I want to acknowledge the depth Goth brings in the scene when confessing her love for Mr. Knightley:
Truly, this is the only adaptation which has Harriet calling out Emma for her failure to know herself. All is conveyed in Chapter 11 when Emma reveals Frank Churchill’s engagement and learns that Mr. Knightley, not Mr. Churchill, has been the object of Harriet’s dearest hopes. But rather than end in tears and frustrations as we see in the scene above, Austen wraps the scene with Emma harrying Harriet from the home with the hope that time spent apart will give them both a chance to reflect. Here is that parting moment:
Harriet seemed ready to worship her friend for a sentence so satisfactory; and Emma was only saved from raptures and fondness, which at that moment would have been dreadful penance, by the sound of her father’s footsteps. He was coming through the hall. Harriet was too much agitated to encounter him. “She could not compose herself— Mr. Woodhouse would be alarmed—she had better go;”—with most ready encouragement from her friend, therefore, she passed off through another door—and the moment she was gone, this was the spontaneous burst of Emma’s feelings: “Oh God! that I had never seen her!” (Austen, chapter 11)
And finally, there’s one critical element that none of the adaptations includes: after Harriet married Robert Martin and Emma marries George Knightley, they stop being friends! That’s right!! For all Emma’s journey toward overcoming her snobbishness and accepting those around her as they are, Austen ends Emma’s journey by returning her to a certain level of classism that the films diplomatically do not include.
Harriet, necessarily drawn away by her engagements with the Martins, was less and less at Hartfield; which was not to be regretted.—The intimacy between her and Emma must sink; their friendship must change into a calmer sort of goodwill; and, fortunately, what ought to be, and must be, seemed already beginning, and in the most gradual, natural manner. (Austen, chapter 19)
Earlier in the story, Emma utilizes this same sense of snobbish classism to dissuade Harriet from accepting Robert Martin, saying:
“Perfectly, perfectly right, my dearest Harriet; you are doing just what you ought. While you were at all in suspense I kept my feelings to myself, but now that you are so completely decided I have no hesitation in approving. Dear Harriet, I give myself joy of this. It would have grieved me to lose your acquaintance, which must have been the consequence of your marrying Mr. Martin. While you were in the smallest degree wavering, I said nothing about it, because I would not influence; but it would have been the loss of a friend to me. I could not have visited Mrs. Robert Martin, of Abbey-Mill Farm. Now I am secure of you for ever.”
Harriet had not surmised her own danger, but the idea of it struck her forcibly.
“You could not have visited me!” she cried, looking aghast. “No, to be sure you could not; but I never thought of that before. That would have been too dreadful!—What an escape!—Dear Miss Woodhouse, I would not give up the pleasure and honour of being intimate with you for any thing in the world.”
“Indeed, Harriet, it would have been a severe pang to lose you; but it must have been. You would have thrown yourself out of all good society. I must have given you up.” (Austen, chapter 7)
Here, Emma’s snobbery carries her so far as to threaten Harriet with banishment from Hartfield and her friendship should she choose to marry in “less exalted ground” than what satisfies Emma (borrowing some language from nasty little Mrs. John Ferrars). However, at the end, Austen divides the friends just as is threatened here, with both Harriet and Emma remaining warm, but not close. What bothers me most is that Austen calls this “what ought to be, and must be.” Why, my little egalitarian self asks, couldn’t they have remained friends? Why couldn’t Austen have planted a different message at the close of this novel? For someone willing to stake her livelihood on romantic ideals of marriage for the sake of affection, would it really have been so outrageous to also encourage friendship regardless of class?
As ever, Dear Reader, please share you thoughts!
Before we go, I want to share this image of Toni Collete as Harriet Smith for any who may not remember:
A Life in Austen 
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