Tenant does not treat the reader to the honeyed prose of Charlotte’s work, and there’s no trace of the darkness, tempestuousness, and mystical implications of Emily’s Wuthering Heights, but her eye for detail is exemplary. More to the point, her understanding of the vagaries of human nature, and how those vagaries interact with social conventions and expectations, is most impressive. And even more to the point, she appears to have been way ahead of her time in presenting her heroine, Helen Graham, as a strong, independent woman who flatly refuses to bow the knee to any notion of feminine subservience in the matter of marital relationship. It goes way beyond what I was brought up to consider normal even in the relatively modern day.
Reading on (and being quite in thrall to the experience.)
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There’s a woman I occasionally see walking up the road to the school. She’s very small and thin with unusually pinched features. One hand is always holding a lead, at the other end of which is a very small and thin dog with unusually pinched features. The other is always holding the hand of a small boy who looks normal in every way, and I’m never quite sure which aspect of this odd picture I should find the oddest.
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Today I had two replies to comments I left on YouTube videos. They both agreed with me. I don’t think that’s ever happened before. Must try harder.
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Late last night I began to write a blog post, but soon dispensed with it because of the lateness of the hour. I intended to write it in full today, and since it only contained the first few lines I didn't bother to save it. And now I haven't a clue what it was about. That's so typical of me these days.
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