I’ve finished Jane Eyre…lovely.

I’ve gotten a few emails from readers asking me to please post something new! It’s been a while since I’ve written something, and admittedly, I’ve been preoccupied with another woman. And her name is Jane Eyre. After a couple of weeks being completely absorbed in a novel, I’ve completed the 1847 gothic Victorian novel by Charlotte Bronte. Years ago, someone recommended this book to me and I schluffed it off, thinking, “OMG…how could I ever get though a hoity-toity English lit book like that!” Oh, was I wrong, so very wrong. And, it seems to be the season for Jane Eyre, because all around me I am reading about people who love this book, are reading it for the first time and re-reading it for the 10th time. I just discovered today on a google search of Jane Eyre the website advertising the stage play that is beginning this summer in Manhattan in New York City. How timely!

I can clearly see Charlotte Bronte was a feminist, empowering her character Jane to be an independent woman, and enabled her to retain her own opinions in oppostion to a man’s and gave her the courage to go against the norm of what a typical English woman would do. I now see why feminists love this book. Mr. Rochester, tall, dark and notsohandsome, and rather rough and gruff, (in the beginning) is a manly man who would have me eating out of his hand in no time. OMG..he might put Mr. Big to shame, and you all know how much I love that man.

My husband acquired a copy of the movie Jane Eyre just for me. I’m totally excited! Now I can bring this Jane Eyre thing full circle and end my addiction to it by reveling in the period visuals that flow with the chronology of the movie while at the same time, comparing it to the actual novel. After that, I’ll put old Jane to rest.

Next stop for me is Wuthering Heights. I hear Charlotte’s sis wrote a fantastic novel, too, just one year before her death at 30 years old. So sorry readers. I fully intend to make it my duty to write substantive and meaningful posts from here on in. Surely, I’ve spent a fortnight selfishly reading when I should have been writing to you, my trusted friends. (Goodness! I need to shake this Victorian influence!)