Legend has it that, when asked whether he still read novels, the philosopher Gilbert Ryle responded “Yes, all six, every year,” referring to Jane Austen’s six completed works. Her novels have invited an unusual degree of explicitly philosophical attention from scholars, none more so than Emma. That is unsurprising, given that Austen’s writing invariably addresses questions about virtue and vice, human interaction and rivalry, motivation and commitment, presenting readers with ethical and other dilemmas set in a variety of naturalistic contexts. Questions about social and economic class and social obligations are raised. Austen reflects on self-knowledge and self-awareness, considers how it is that people justify their convictions, and investigates both the nature and the effects of imagination and emotion on human conduct and choices. She dwells on the ways in which evidence is taken note of or disregarded, and the effects of biases on decision and action. Accordingly, many philosophers have a decided soft spot for Austen, and reading Austen is often held to promote philosophical reflection. Emma offers particular opportunities for such reflection, evident when style as well as content is considered. Emma’s radically experimental presentation of events through the distorting lens of the protagonist’s mind, what is now referred to as free indirect style, foregrounds Austen’s then-unique blending of third- and first-person points of vantage. Such narratival perspective-shifting presents unique opportunities for insight and reflection. Among Emma’s manifold stylistic innovations are also the hilariously Joycean stream-of-consciousness monologues, capturing in an instant a portrait of character, state of mind, and motivations.