“Poor Mr. Woodhouse was silent from consternation.” -- Chapter 15 Emma
There’s weather, then there’s worrying. And the world of Mr. Woodhouse is filled with worry.
In Austen’s Emma, the father is an elderly man reduced to his worries. Worrying about the weather. Worrying about health — his and everyone’s around him. And worrying about travel, both far and near.
In today’s world Mr. Woodhouse might be termed anxious. Indeed, his anxiety for everything and everyone around him reminds me of my late father, who worried about time — constantly checking his watch (even though he was chronically early for every appointment); the location of his wallet — patting his pants pocket multiple times after leaving the house; and, once he did, making sure he knew the whereabouts of his house keys. I cannot describe his consternation as we sat in a taxicab one winter’s day wondering whether we’d be late for a train from Penn Station.
One of the delightful features of listening to Austen on audio books is that you begin to feel the creeping claustrophobia of being in a room with an incessant worrier, such as Mr. Woodhouse. I walk while listening to Austen and whole city blocks can be measured by the amount of time taken to feel the fretting of Mr. Woodhouse on, say, a carriage ride in the snow, swimming in the sea, or the particular evil of eating cake.