- 1 From Emma Tennant’s sequels to coquels and Jeremy Rosen’s ‘minor-character elaborations’ illustrate (...)
- 2 Laura Wade (born in 1977 in Bedford) was critically acclaimed for Posh (2010)—that became the film (...)
1This article proposes to consider the notion of transmission in relation to the process of adaptation since adaptations, whatever form they take, bring—transmit—a text to a new audience while submitting the text to a process of transformation and appropriation. Jane Austen’s relatively small body of work (six novels) has given rise to countless television or film adaptations, stage adaptations but also narrative expansions1 and continuations that all revisit Austen’s characters and plots. The intermedial adaptation under consideration here is that of a fragment written by Jane Austen in 1805, The Watsons, by Olivier award winner playwright and screenwriter Laura Wade in 2018.2 If continuations have been written, this is the first stage adaptation of The Watsons, a text published posthumously along with other unfinished fiction. For Kathryn Sutherland, ‘The manuscript, graphically Austen’s most disordered and unresolved, does not suggest a novel; rather, it appears to be a novella or long short story . . . it is written continuously, without chapter divisions or other strong structural markers’ (Sutherland 2018). This 43-page-long narrative (Austen 275318 in the Oxford paperback edition) introduces Emma Watson, newly returned to her impoverished family home (her father is a parson) after the rich aunt she was raised by dismissed her following her remarriage. Emma is thus gradually reacquainted with her family, notably her sisters who are unmarried and/or still hoping to find a husband, as their ailing father is severely ill. At her first ball, Emma meets Lord Osborne (an early version of Mr Darcy), his popular but flighty friend Tom Musgrave as well as the more modest Mr Howard (Austen 288289).
- 3 I am indebted here to Christine Geraghty who applies this questioning to Joe Wright’s adaptation of (...)
2In his review for The Guardian of Wade’s stage adaptation, Michael Billingdon declares that ‘one of the play’s many pleasures is its capacity to endlessly take us by surprise’. Indeed, to her stage adaptation of Austen’s text, Wade adds a metafictional dimension as she inscribes a version of herself, the author, into the plot under the character name of Laura and brings in echoes of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author (1921), to which this article is of course indebted for its title. The aim of this study is to examine how Wade’s play reflects on its own status as an adaptation3 in the twenty-first century while tackling the issue of authenticity inevitably raised by adaptation and continuation. Following a few remarks on the adaptation of unfinished texts, I will examine the metafiction and metatheatricality at work before focusing on the issue of the ending.
3Wade’s work on The Watsons emerges in the context of the twenty-first century enthusiasm for stage adaptations. In 2003 a theatre critic pointed out ‘If there is one inescapable reality in British theatre today, it is our obsession with adaptations’ (Charlotte Higgins Guardian 23 October 2003, quoted by Rees 138). The trend does not seem to have abated. Laera notes that ‘theatre venues continue to bank on the attractive familiarity of adaptations’ (Laera 2). Significantly, the verb chosen by Laera here also indirectly evokes the financial attraction of adaptations for theatre producers. For instance, 2020 saw three stage adaptations of complex novels by Angela Carter, Emily Brontë and Virginia Woolf (see Akbar). Mark Lawson calls this trend in the theatre ‘the acted book’ (2014), stressing the significance of the adapter’s work as, he says, ‘it remains a problem that satisfying novels rarely prove an easy fit for theatre’ (Lawson).
- 4 Austen scholars conjecture that she abandoned the story for good when her father died in real life (...)
4A significant element to take into account is that The Watsons is an unfinished piece, which may lead us to wonder about the particularity of incomplete texts with regards to adaptation. The Watsons was abandoned by Austen.4 It differs from Sanditon which was more clearly meant to be a novel and falls within Merritt Moseley’s category of ‘fortuitous fragments’ of uncompleted wholes (Moseley 5) since it was interrupted by Austen’s death. However, what these two texts have in common is that, as unfinished pieces, they stand on the periphery of the Jane Austen canon. They do not generate the same interest as Austen’s completed works, which has made them less likely candidates for adaptation. Jane Austen’s six novels have all been adapted to the screen, big or small at least twice—a most recent example to date being another TV adaptation of Persuasion by Netflix (2022)—and to the stage on both sides of the Atlantic but it is only recently that attention has turned to Austen’s less well-known juvenilia and unfinished texts: Whit Stillman directed an adaptation of Austen’s epistolary novella Lady Susan in a lively and mischievous Love and Friendship (2016) and British channel ITV broadcast a popular adaptation of Austen’s unfinished Sanditon (2019), created by screenwriter Andrew Davies, author of the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that left its mark on viewers and later adapters of Austen. The Watsons had been left untouched by adaptors until Wade’s play. The implications of both the relative obscurity and the unfinished status of The Watsons are significant for our analysis of the play.
5Firstly, as Hutcheon points out, for an adaptation to be experienced as such, ‘we need to recognise it as such and to know its adapted text’ (Hutcheon 120121). Because Wade cannot assume that her audience knows the fragment and is trying to appeal not only to Austen’s aficionados but also to an audience who has not read the text or does not even know about it nor necessarily knows much about Austen, Wade builds in the necessary information in her play that is then marked by self-reflexivity and enables her to address ‘both knowing and unknowing audiences’ (Hutcheon 121).
6Secondly, Austen’s name features in good place on the posters for the play and on the cover of the text published by Methuen. Indeed, although The Watsons may benefit from Jane Austen’s aura, it stands apart from the canon because of its fragmentary nature and unfinished status, which is significant for the adaptation. Whilst expectations of fidelity run rather high for classics, adaptations of Austen’s less well-known works are actually relatively free from this burden. As Susan Speidel aptly notes of Lady Susan, it is ‘a narrative whose brevity and canonical peripherality invites addition and change’ (Speidel). To the freedom conveyed by canonical peripherality, one might add the fragmentary dimension of these texts as further invitation to appropriation that is acknowledged and foregrounded in the paratext of Wade’s play: both book cover and poster bill claim the lineage with Jane Austen while pointing to the contemporaneity of the play through modern artefacts like a pair of trainers under a Georgian dress on the book cover or the addition of headphones or sunglasses on the portraits of the actors dressed in period costume on the bill.5 In other words, the postmodern stand is foregrounded.
- 6 Two more seasons were also developed.
7If the link with Austen can be advertised in the paratext and built upon in the text, one of the difficulties that remains for adaptation is how to deal with the unfinished status of the source text. When fragments are taken up for adaptation, they are usually given an ending. Examples include Elizabeth Gaskell’s Wives and Daughters (1864) in the screenplay by Andrew Davies (BBC 1999), Harold Pinter’s scenario for Elia Kazan’s 1976 adaptation of Fitzgerald’s The Last Tycoon (1941), and—possibly the most famous unfinished novel—Charles Dickens’s The Mystery of Edwin Drood (1870), which was given a resolution by Gwyneth Hughes in the 2012 BBC adaptation. It so happens that ITV’s adaptation of Jane Austen’s Sanditon was aired in 2019 at the same time as Wade’s play was performed (see Billington). The two adaptations are very different and not just because of their media. While Andrew Davies actually continues the story, seamlessly expanding an unfinished piece of 12 chapters and about 24,000 words into a screenplay that offered material for eight one-hour episodes as he adapts it to the screen,6 Laura Wade advertises her work as adaptation in a dramatisation in two acts of The Watsons that builds on its unfinished status and makes this the actual topic of the play.
- 7 For instance, there is one brother and one sister fewer for Emma in the play; Penelope’s reported a (...)
8When adapting a text to a new medium, the source text can be more or less distorted, deliberately or not, through adding, compressing or subtracting (Laera 4). In her stage adaptation, Wade necessarily slightly slims down the number of characters mentioned by Austen7 but uses almost verbatim most of the dialogues that make up the core of Austen’s text and builds on Austen’s supposed indications to her sister that Lord Osborne would propose to Emma and be declined while Lady Osborne’s affection for Mr Howard would be unrequited and he would eventually marry Emma (see Castle xxiv). This constitutes above a quarter of the play (28 pages out of a hundred). Wade takes the story to the point of Lord Osborne’s proposal but the until then speechless character of the servant intervenes, blurting out ‘No!’ (Wade 28) when Emma accepts. This character then talks Osborne into believing that it is better to wait a little and reveals to Emma, and then to the others that they are the unfinished creation of an author called Jane Austen, breaking the illusion for the audience as she steps in the characters’ world. Here is one of the play’s major paradoxes: Laura breaks the illusion and stops the unfolding of the story because she wants things to develop as planned by Jane Austen, in other words for the sake of authenticity and accurate transmission. Her avowed aim is to adapt rather than appropriate Austen’s work, to use Julie Sanders’s distinction according to which ‘[a]n adaptation most often signals a relationship with an informing source text’ whereas ‘appropriation frequently affects a more decisive journey away from the informing text into a wholly new cultural product and domain’ (Sanders 35). Incidentally, it is significant that Laura should have taken the guise of ‘A FEMALE SERVANT’ (22, original capitals and italics) to enter the play inconspicuously, servants being background and, mostly, unnamed characters in Austen’s novels: on the one hand, it participates in Laura’s attempt at authenticity; on the other hand, it indirectly evokes the interest shown to the lower classes in contemporary adaptations and appropriations of Austen, such as Jo Baker’s Longbourn (2013), a coquel to Pride and Prejudice that focuses on the servants of the household (see Parey 2019).
9As an incomplete piece, The Watsons has been the object of several continuations at various periods. The problem is, as director Samuel West points out, that they bear the signs of their time while pretending to be contemporary with Austen. Wade skirts around the difficulty because she does not even attempt to pass off her continuation as authentic: Wade makes the fact that Austen’s text is unfinished the very topic of the play and points to the adaptive process through authorial metalepsis (see Genette 2004, 1213), by writing herself in the text under the name of Laura.
10The play thus bears the main trait of postmodernism following Linda Hutcheon, i.e. a ‘“nudging” commitment to doubleness’, an overt self-consciousness that serves to ‘de-naturalize’ what we tend to take for granted (Hutcheon 2002, 1, 2). The play’s postmodern self-reflexivity thus foregrounds the issues associated with continuation as well as the challenge to its own attempt at continuing the story. The usual criticism levelled at continuation is expressed when Laura deems her inclusion of the characters’ rebellion in the play ‘a bit more interesting than watching a writer slavishly trying to recreate’ (Wade 81) and Emma exclaims ‘You can’t even do your own story, you have to borrow someone else’s. Making your bid for posterity by riding on someone else’s coat-tails. Haven’t you got stories of your own?’ (87). We recognise here the usual accusation of lack of originality coupled with the attempt to sound like, to imitate or pastiche the source text, in other words to aim for a form of authenticity. In typical postmodern fashion, this latter point is both underlined and undermined through self-conscious remarks about language: ‘Hey? Is that right?’ (30) and ‘you can’t say that’ (86) Laura says when Emma uses words that do not fit her time.
11Indeed, Laura describes her work as ‘picking up the baton’ (33), a metaphor that evokes a relay race in which runners take turns in aiming for the same direction. No writing back or rewriting is intended here as Laura explains her attempt at continuing the story is a labour of love:
She only wrote six books and it’s not enough. So here’s this little bit of a book a glorious gift from this person who knew human folly better than anyone else, who is a friend, a comfort, a gossip, who’s cynical and romantic, a better storyteller than I’ll ever be and I’m here to fucking honour her. (61)
12Laura’s high praise for Jane Austen’s work humorously ends on the contrast in the combination of a very offensive adverb with the verb ‘honour’ which suggests respect and decorum, this contradiction reading as a postmodern way to express homage. The representation of Laura’s endeavours to adapt The Watsons to the stage allows for a commentary on Austen’s fiction and characters and its criticism as it includes remarks about her writing, her life and beliefs (for instance, see 4245, 9697).
13Wade makes no pretence of being able to continue seamlessly. Including the persona of the writer within the play enables metanarrative remarks, i.e. ‘refer[ring] to the narrator’s reflections on the act or process of narration’ (Neumann and Nünning), about the creation or fleshing out of characters (see, for instance, Wade 3738, 42 and 46). It also allows a quick dive into the author’s psyche and ego when the play’s status as adaptation is addressed. Thus, when Emma asks ‘why not a novel?’, Laura ‘mutters’ her answer: ‘I like it when they clap’ (84). However, it is worth noting that signs of metadrama are also present in the early part of the play, when Wade dramatises Austen’s text.
14The play opens in Mr Watson’s bedroom where Elizabeth tells her younger sister Emma what will happen at the ball she is going to attend. Most interestingly, as this unfolds, a stage direction indicates that ‘the assembly room gradually appears’ (Wade 3): what Elisabeth describes is being performed in another part of the stage with Emma present in both scenes. For instance, Elisabeth’s declaration: ‘You will certainly be noticed by Tom Musgrove’ is immediately followed by the appearance of the character on the stage.
Elizabeth: You will certainly be noticed by Tom Musgrave.
TOM MUSGRAVE appears, bows.
TOM MUSGRAVE: Miss Emma Watson, the reports of your beauty, which I feared excessive, were if anything too restrained. (4)
15In this first part, Emma is both spectator and actor until the stage is entirely devoted to the ball as indicated by the stage direction ‘Elizabeth pushes Mr Watson’s bed off. The dancers move into the space left by the bed, and form two lines’ (8). In other words, Elizabeth’s narrative is being performed, i.e. adapted to the stage. There is a sort of mise en abyme as the audience is looking at an adaptation that foregrounds the process of adaptation. This opening, with a modern conception of the stage as it is gradually split in two, serves to introduce both the characters and the adaptation as adaptation.
- 8 ‘the hypertext must constantly remain continuous with its hypotext, which it must merely bring to i (...)
16Similarly, in Act Two, once the characters know about their status, the character of the author explains how she intends to develop the plot: ‘OK, here’s what I think should happen. This is based on what we know of Jane Austen’s plans and stuff added by me on a What Would Jane Do kind of basis’ (Wade 51). She then narrates the continuation and ending she plans but it is not performed (see 5153). What is performed is the author discussing her plans for what Gérard Genette calls a ‘proleptic continuation’ (Genette 1997, 177), which imposes a coherence with the existing text8 but the process is also acknowledged as very similar to that of adaptation, as both are shown to be based on memory. For John Ellis, as a rule, ‘[t]he adaptation trades upon the memory of the novel, a memory that can derive from actual reading or, as is more likely with a classic of literature, a generally circulated cultural memory’ (Ellis 3), which also means that misremembering may partake of the adaptive process, but is deliberately not the case in Wade’s adaptation.
17As part of Laura’s quest for an authentic rendering of Austen’s work, the facts are clearly laid out. For instance, Laura specifies when Austen’s text actually stopped; she quotes Austen’s letter to her niece about ‘marrying without affection’ (Wade 45) and reports what is known about the context of The Watsons and Austen’s plans. All is explained to the audience through dialogues between the writer and the characters in an inclusive viewer-friendly manner, thus verifying John Pier’s claim that ‘intrametaleptic movements’, when an author intervenes in her fiction (as opposed to character transgressing the extradiegetic boundary), ‘mark an affinity between narrator and narratee’ (Pier). Indeed, Laura is the reader/viewer’s representative in the play, as indicated when the character explains that her project of continuation stems from her narrative curiosity and wish for closure: ‘you were in a kind of limbo, unfinished. . . . I wanted to know what was going to happen to you’ (Wade 38).
18However, when Laura actually quotes what is known about the purported end of The Watsons, the characters challenge the authenticity of Austen’s intentions by pointing to the intermediaries (her sister Cassandra Austen and her nephew James Edward Austen-Leigh) through whom the indications filtered (Wade 57). The authority of the written word is challenged in postmodern fashion as this pointing out of the textuality of history reminds us of Hutcheon’s historiographic metafiction.
19Later, Laura makes a direct metafictional reference to Pirandello’s play in which characters are aware of their status: on the phone to her artistic director (using the name of a real-life person), Laura refers to the play she is writing and which is being performed as ‘a play about the difficulty. It’s about what the characters do when their first author abandons them and they don’t want to do what the new writer says so it’s about self-determination . . . Yes, a bit like the Pirandello’ (Wade 81). But here again, Wade adapts the source text as the characters in Wade’s play are not in search of an author but trying to shake her off.
20Adaptation walks the line between recognition and novelty (see Rees and Hutcheon) and the question arises as to how Wade negotiates what is expected of an Austenian ending. Austen scholars assess The Watsons as particularly dark: conversations are ‘strikingly grimmer than anything else in her work’ (Tomalin 186). At the point where Austen breaks off her narrative, Emma’s situation in The Watsons ‘is almost unrelievedly bleak’ (Castle xxix) yet the plot was apparently supposed to finish with a love match and have a happy ending nonetheless (Castle xvii).
21In order to achieve this, Wade adds comedy to her continuation of the fragment. The comic arises out of the discrepancy between what we know or recognise of Austen’s works and characters and the situation in which they are put. For instance, Laura misquotes the famous incipit of Pride and Prejudice when trying to get herself out of a corner: ‘I believe, my lord, it’s a well a truth generally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife who um who has absolutely definitely has taken the time to consider his proposal at the very least overnight’ (Wade 29).
22Once Laura’s identity has been revealed and the illusion broken, the rift is visually represented in Act 2 with Laura ‘now wearing modern clothes’ (Wade 51) and the door is open for anachronisms the incongruity of which is a source of comedy: for instance, when one of the characters (Margaret) unwittingly describes an orgasm or when Robert proudly invents a ‘communications device’ that he says is an improvement on Laura’s mobile phone: ‘one isn’t forced to carry it in one’s pocket’ (92).
- 9 See also Parey on the ending to Sense and Sensibility on the page and on the screen in Ang Lee’s ad (...)
23Comedy ends in reconciliation. In the case of Austen’s novels, the popular perception is that they end happily in the form of a wedding, a view that is largely entertained by film and TV adaptations that stress the final union at the expense of the harsher considerations usually also present at the end of the novels. As Kathryn Sutherland pointed out in 2011, ‘[c]urrent adaptations are part of the rebranding of Jane Austen as the godmother of twenty-first-century romance’ (Sutherland 2011, 219220). Deborah Kaplan devised the concept of ‘harlequinization’ thinking of Jane Austen adaptations whose ‘focus is on a hero or heroine’s courtship at the expense of other characters’ (Kaplan 178).9 Wade’s adaptation of The Watsons addresses this as the metafictional dimension of the play enables a discussion of Laura’s wish for a traditional happy ending. Through the character of Laura defending and justifying her choice, Wade also provides a commentary of Austen’s fiction in her play: ‘The point is, that when she was writing—now—the only way for a daughter to gain independence from her family was through marriage. What Jane does is give you that independence but makes sure it’s also a love-match. That’s her feminist act’ (Wade 61).
24The problem in the play is that the characters are not happy with the rewarding ending supposedly devised for them by Austen and relayed by Laura. Emma, for instance, has mixed feelings about the prospect of marrying pious and virtuous Mr Howard: ‘Perhaps I want someone with more spirit, more fight’ (Wade 62). Wade thus acknowledges and states in an indirect way that the traditional happy ending cannot work for our time: a twenty-first century play cannot end in a way that today seems limiting. In other words, Wade states the case for adaptation even as Laura strives for a form of authenticity and fidelity.
- 10 Another instance is when, following a discussion about freedom in which Robert and Howard exchange (...)
25Laura’s power as author has been performed shortly after she breaks the news to Emma and fasts forward the clock to make her heroine come back sooner (Wade 37)—which is yet another metatheatrical gesture since it actually performs the narrative technique of ellipsis. Even as it is asserted, Laura’s authority however does not go unchallenged. In fact, contrary to Pirandello’s characters in search of an author, Wade’s characters reject authority: ‘Why don’t you try letting us do what we want’ (62) Emma asks. Through this and various other exchanges when Wade stages a version of herself who finds herself upholding traditional views, she lightly addresses the question of authorial control and ideology—sites of contestation for postmodernism.10
26Laura tries to exert control, protesting that the characters need structure and taking up Aristotle’s precept: ‘it’s not a soap opera, you need a beginning, a middle and an end or it’s not satisfying’ (Wade 63). Not only is the importance of the end of a story stated but it somehow becomes a topic in itself in the second act when Laura wants to implement the plan she thinks is ‘authentic Jane Austen’ (61). Emma makes suggestions that Laura rejects as ‘not very Jane Austen, sadly’ (42) and the situation seems to get out of hand when the characters rebel. As the characters vote on their outcome, Wade’s play seems to implement literally Mark Lawson’s claim that ‘A novel is a dictatorship, but a dramatisation is a democracy’ (Lawson)—even though Lawson here actually refers to the loss of control for the novelist when his or her work is adapted notably because the spectator is free to focus on whoever he wishes on the stage and because of the actor’s input in a character. In the end, Wade’s adaptation-continuation takes the shape of an actualisation of the Austenian ‘love-match’.
- 11 Margaret, previously portrayed as desperate to marry well, just like Lucy Steele in Sense and Sensi (...)
27In a fairly traditional way, two of Emma’s sisters get married at the end of the play11 even though these are not the unions Austen had apparently planned. Wade too eventually gives a contemporary slant to her continuation cum adaptation of Austen and to the happy endings met by the characters but she is open about it through the self-reflexive dimension of the play. As a result, Wade imagines contemporary options for Austen’s characters. For example, the ill-assorted couple formed by the Roberts—which prefigures the Palmers and the Middletons in Sense and Sensibility and the Bennets in Pride and Prejudice—is now allowed to separate. Lady Osborne voices her dissatisfaction with a life full of constraints, her attraction for Nanny and eventually makes her love public while Nanny’s initial answer to Lady Osborne brings about the unwritten life of lesbianism. A feminist outlook is also given by Lord Osborne’s decision to end male primogeniture (dismissing the entailment that is the cause of worry in several novels by Austen) and to pass on his title to his daughter while his sister Miss Osborne enters the army.
28The play is also about a writer’s growth and development from a self-serving wish to satisfy her narrative curiosity and her ego—‘I like it when they clap’ (Wade 84)—to the sudden realisation that ‘you’re better off unfinished’ (Wade 99). Despite her earlier declarations, Laura eventually renounces her wish to impose closure and limits on Emma, acknowledging Austen’s authority and the power of the open ending that leaves endless possibilities:
Finishing means you only get one story. All possibilities collapse down into one. . . .
One life isn’t enough for you. It isn’t enough for any of us, she knew that.
When she abandoned you, Jane gave you freedom. If I leave you unfinished, you can do anything. (99)
29In a final metafictional and metaleptic gesture that also signifies the character’s empowerment, Laura leaves Emma a copy book to write her own stories, like the baton mentioned earlier but now to go wherever she likes.
30If transmission may be a way to preserve texts and their memory, this is not a direct process but one that goes through adaptation or appropriation. When comparing Wade’s The Watsons with ITV’s Sanditon, Billingdon concludes ‘Theatre’s room for experiment delivers the most satisfying imaginative leap’ (Billingdon). Indeed, in Laera’s words, ‘As a memory machine, theatre is the site for the recollection, the re-elaboration, and contestation of readily available cultural material, and for the production of new, and newly adaptable, ideas out of established ones’ (Laera 3). The Watsons is not just a stage adaptation but also a self-conscious reflexion on what adaptation and continuation transmit coupled with an accelerated course on Austen’s life and work. Paradoxically, at the same time as the device of adaptation is exposed and postmodernism seems to rule, the quest for authenticity is not fully dismissed: the recourse to metafiction and metatheatre that ‘lay bare the device’ acknowledges the irrelevance of authentic continuation but enables a thorough discussion and transmission of Austen and her world. When ‘picking up the baton’ (Wade 33) from Austen, Wade delivers a post-postmodern play, to use Jeffrey Nealon’s term: self-reflexive and playful yet a true homage to Austen’s work and legacy.