I must lighten up.
I must lighten up.
But I don’t know how at the moment, so I’ll make do with a few
words about Jane Eyre.
1) On the whole, I find Miss Eyre a most engaging person.
The one thing I find difficult to achieve is a resolution of the apparent dichotomy
between her staunchly servile attitude to Rochester (‘I sat on a low stool next
to my master’s knee’) and the strong, uncompromising and egalitarian attributes
to which he is supposedly so attracted. I have to constantly remind myself that
this novel was written in the first half of the 19th century when the
structure of social order was very different from what it is today, and that it
would be naïve to judge her (and her creator) in terms informed by modern
attitudes to such things as the class system and gender roles.
2) I have a high opinion of Charlotte Bronte’s skill as a
writer, but I think there are hints of immaturity here and there. I thought her
next novel – Villette – was better written. What intrigues me is that she views
all aspects of environmental phenomena, from the moon to the hedgerows, in an
almost identical way to me. She even uses the same words to describe them.
3) I think some of the soliloquies are too long and
perfectly expressed to be entirely plausible. Nevertheless, I found Eliza’s
parting diatribe against her sister Georgeana to be a model of silky spite. I
really liked that bit. I did!
All things considered, I’m very happy with it so far. Finale
coming up.
11 comments:
Number one is quite on point, I think. It's what bothered me about Jane most, that servile attitude. It seemed to me that this is a trait deeply ingrained in Miss Jane, because of the nature of her interactions with John Rivers later. She seems inclined to take a back seat and let the passions of others absorb her.
I hope you've gotten to that part, because I wouldn't want to ruin anything for you.
I also feel a little self-conscious about the thoughts expressed above because I read the book a long while ago and not with a terribly critical eye. Hah, I don't like being wrong.
I haven't made it to John Rivers yet; I'm just at the part where Mr R is trying to extricate himself from the wreckage of having his secret come out.
As for Jane's character, it's something you could talk about all day, and I think a lot depends on how clever Charlotte Bronte was and how consciously she drew the character. I think there are two traits that need to be 'excused.'
I think her general level of servility is perhaps credible, since there was a strict social order at that time to which everybody was soundly conditioned, and the position of governess was not highly esteemed.
Her passive approach to matters of the heart is perhaps more difficult, but maybe that was Charlotte's expectation of the result of Jane's childhood which was abusive and emotionally starved.
How can we know? What really interests me is how much of Charlotte there is in Jane.
Fourth paragraph: yes. That's a very interesting point, and quite intuitive of you to consider.
Seems to me you have a bit of an author-crush on Miss Bronte, eh Jeff? No worries. I feel the same way about a few writers myself... something about seeing into the mind of an individual, and finding it an agreeable place.
Ah, now, you've started something here, Sara. You weren't reading my blog a couple of years ago, were you, when I wrote the essay about Wuthering Heights.
Potted history:
The whole Bronte story has interested me since I was quite young. When I visited Haworth Parsonage a little over twenty years ago, I felt a strong sense of being on a pilgrimage.
Emily is the one who draws and fascinates me because I find in her a kindred spirit. Two years ago I developed an almost manic desire to go to Haworth church and dig her up! (And that was before I read about Heathliffe doing the same with Catherine - I could never finish Wuthering Heights when I was younger, for some unaccountable reason.) Charlotte, on the other hand, is the one in whose company I think I would feel unusually comfortable.
They're the only two authors on whom I have an author-crush.
Actually, I wasn't, but I had a feeling. I'm rather glad you didn't go dig up poor Emily. Although, if you're as withered as you say, you two might have kept good company. That was a joke.
If you've ever read my blog *which also hosts an essay, though only a few posts back), you'd probably have a good idea which writer I've an deep admiration for. Tolkien's a fella I'd love to sit down with and talk to until I lost my voice. I don't know if he'd mind, though I certainly hope he wouldn't.
The main impediment to my ghoulish intent was the fact that she's buried under the concrete floor of Haworth church. I realised I'd need a pneumatic drill, and that would have been a bit noisy.
I'm curious to know why the fascination with Tolkien. I'll bet it's different from the reason most people like him. I'll check out the article later.
Damn, my last comment was rife with typos. Must remember to proofread.
I adore Tolkien because of how wonderfully thorough and deliberate he was in the creation of his world. Every time I go back to his works, I learn something new, and I delight in following threads of characters, concepts, and places back to their origins.
He took the time to create languages and histories for the rich cultures that peopled Middle Earth. And the best part is that it wasn't for money. Where do you see such attention to detail and such devotion these days? Almost everyone's just looking to make a buck, screw the story, forget the joy found in creation.
I also LOVE that I can see where he drew inspiration from the mythologies and religions of our world.
There's so much more I could say, but that's, as you'd say, the potted version.
So how do you respond to the stories? I've never read Lord of the Rings, but if the films are an accurate representation of the books, the narrative would seem to be almost Arthurian in conception and infused with High Romanticism. There are kings, alliances and enmity between different peoples, a magician, a quest, soul bondings between male and female...
Is that not what you so dislike? I'm not trying to challenge you here, just asking so I can understand.
It was wrong of me to say that I dislike Romanticism. In truth, I quite like the movement itself and some the works it inspired. I just have a problem with some of the poetry I was forced to read a long while ago. And then I know a girl who thinks Lord Byron is her perfect man (and who thinks Tolkien is a hack without ever reading anything he's ever written). Talk about misguided.
You're correct; the LotR books do draw inspiration from Arthurian legend, though they're not restricted to it. I have no problem with the concept of the "hero's quest" and all that it entails. It's a perfect formula that's worked for stories for... well, forever.
The stories themselves incite a very visceral response in me. When I've gone too long without revisiting the texts or the films, I begin to experience a feeling of homesickness. I've been playing with the question of WHY recently, and have concluded that it's not Middle Earth, or more specifically, the Shire, that I'm so in love with. It's the type of living that the various races (hobbits especially) represent that so resonates with me. I recognize a life close to the land in a tightly knit community on a cellular level.
Last thing: Tolkien writes like a man truly in love with the land. How could I not be drawn in?
Also, this isn't related, but Happy Solstice. Here's a quote:
"The black moment is the moment when the real message of transformation is going to come. At the darkest moment comes the light." – Joseph Campbell
Thanks for the comprehensive explanation. I see now. Your friend has an odd taste in men. 'Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.' From what I've read of Lord Byron, I don't think I like him too much. I applaud the adventurous spirit to the heavens, but not the callous disregard for the welfare and feelings of others.
Happy Solstice back. I had a fire, as always.
'The darkest hour is just before dawn' has long been a favourite source of encouragement.
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