It’s such a tragedy that two of the greatest writers of the romantic literary era never had the chance to know each other, a chance to discuss ideas aIt’s such a tragedy that two of the greatest writers of the romantic literary era never had the chance to know each other, a chance to discuss ideas and to help each other with their craft: they never got chance to talk and to be a proper family.
Mary Wollstonecraft died just five days after giving birth to her daughter Mary. Mary Shelley would learn about her mother through her writing and through her father William Godwin. She gained an image and an idea of what her feminist mother was like and what she stood for, and this greatly influenced her own life. She did not know her mother in person, but her writing helped her form a connection: it helped her to understand her legacy and to create her own.
Mary Wollstonecraft, on the other hand, never got to read Frankenstein or The Last Man. She never got to see how her daughter’s literary genius matched her own and would even come to surpass it. I wonder what Wollstonecraft would have made of Mary’s husband, Shelley, and his own radical views. I wonder what else she could have written had she lived longer. I wonder. I wonder. And I think she would have loved the work her daughter created: she would have seen much of herself in it.
This book is such an ambitious project. It chronicles the lives of both writers, and it demonstrates how in some ways the tragedy and drama are paralleled across time. Both women had very tumultuous experiences and it shaped who they were and what they wrote about. After the exhaustive research, Gordon is making a very strong case for how much Wollstonecraft influenced Mary Shelley. Her ideas creep across Mary Shelley’s work. And it’s fantastic to see.
Overall, this is a very good book for those interested in the work of either writer. However, it is a bit of a slow burn but a bright one!
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This is a compelling and highly symbolic feminist retelling of an Ancient Greek story that I recommend most highly.
I’m always impressed by the writingThis is a compelling and highly symbolic feminist retelling of an Ancient Greek story that I recommend most highly.
I’m always impressed by the writing of Madeline Miller. Her first book The Song of Achilles was a powerful and imaginative retelling of The Iliad. Her second novel Circe, however, was at a completely different level: it was simply fantastic in every way.
As such, I had extremely high expectations going into this and I’m very pleased to say they were met entirely. First off though, it’s important to note that this is a short story but it packs a very hefty punch. Galatea is a literary adaptation, a taking of an established story and retelling it and here it is done from a strong feminist perspective. Miller takes a piece of Ovid's Metamorphoses and gives it new life and agency.
Indeed, she takes an otherwise silent female character and gives her a voice and a story. Galatea was made from stone by a sculptor. He created her and prayed for her to come to life and his wish was granted by the gods. In Ovid’s version they get married and live happily ever after, but his narrative is problematic. What about Galatea wishes? Miller gives that consideration here. Galatea was physically made and sculped to be one man’s ideal: he made her to serve his every whim. It never occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, she might want something different from life.
What follows is a story of desperation and entrapment. Galatea, quite naturally, wants to escape from her overbearing creator and jailor. In this, he is the ultimate expression of the suffocating patriarchy which he represents. And without giving away the plot conclusion, it’s a forceful indictment of the terribleness of treating women like objects. I was impressed by the story’s closure. It was symbolic and it left a lasting image. Here Miller shows that her writing is on par with the likes of Margaret Atwood and Angela Carter when it comes to adapting stories and ideas.
So, this is a very strong short story. I would love to see more like it from Miller, a collection of them would certainly be great. For now, I will continue to read everything she writes. ___________________________________
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This has such a loaded title, and it has offended a lot of white people. Ironically, these same people are the ones that need to read the book the mosThis has such a loaded title, and it has offended a lot of white people. Ironically, these same people are the ones that need to read the book the most. Case in point, just look at the second highest rated review on Goodreads.
It actually made me cringe.
When Eddo-Lodge says “I'm No Longer Talking to White People About Race” she is not closing the conversation, as she has been often accused. Instead, she is opening it; she is challenging people to understand her frustration when dealing with ignorance. The problem is, as a black feminist, she was constantly faced with a viewpoint that completely excluded, downplayed and was deaf to her own ideas and experience. It’s easier to deny the suffrage of others than admit you may be part of the problem and cause. The title is a strong indictment, and white people need to make the effort to understand it.
“Every voice raised against racism chips away at its power. We can't afford to stay silent.”
So, there are two issues at play here which Eddo-Lodge presents eloquently. There is the race issue and then there is the feminist issue. The legacy of slavery is still apparent today. This is a fact. History cannot be erased nor can systemic racial prejudices that do, indeed, linger (despite the denial whites often display.) The biggest problem here is this strong (almost offended) denial by whites and the shutting-down of black voices not to mention a complete ignorance about the truth of black British (and American) history. Eddo-Lodge has completely got to the heart of the matter here. Speaking as a white male, we need to listen and we need to do so much better.
The feminist issue is two pronged and more complex. Within a social justice movement fighting for women’s rights, Eddo-Lodge found herself faced with white activists who only represented and cared about some women’s rights. Within organisations, there was a clear disparity about which women were being liberated from the yoke of misogyny. And this is problematic. Here was an example of an unintended, yet still blatant and inexcusable, structural form of racism. Simply put, this is white privilege.
“White privilege is an absence of the consequences of racism. An absence of structural discrimination, an absence of your race being viewed as a problem first and foremost.”
This absence is down to a matter of perspective and a lack of understanding, empathy and thought about the perspective of others. It’s easy to deny what we haven’t experienced. It’s easy to ignore a problem we are causing. And this is something we all need to come to terms with fully. This isn’t an issue that can be brushed off. It’s something that needs to be tackled full on. The only way to do that is through education, through learning where the problems originated from, how they persist and then from there we can work towards removing them.
My point here is that Eddo-Lodge is a fantastic educator. As with Edward’s Said’s Orientalism this is mandatory reading for everybody in our modern world and especially for those that wish to understand race relations (which should be everybody.)
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“If the body becomes a special focus for women's struggle for freedom then what is ingested is a logical initial locus for announcing one's independen“If the body becomes a special focus for women's struggle for freedom then what is ingested is a logical initial locus for announcing one's independence. Refusing the male order in food, women practiced the theory of feminism through their bodies and their choice of vegetarianism.”
This book questions the nature of feminism; it questions its purpose, it’s incompleteness and its prejudices within the world at large.
Now that an odd thing to say isn’t it? Prejudices, in a movement that argues for equality between the sexes? Now let me explain. Feminism is about the protection of the female body; it’s about the fruition of equal rights for women in society: it’s about breaking the stupid misogynistic rules set by the dominating patriarchy that cause differences. Feminism argues that we all deserve choice, the basic right to make our own decisions and exist on the same level as everyone else. It’s not a big ask, freedom and equality should belong to all regardless of sex, gender or race.
“Dominance functions best in a culture of disconnections and fragmentation. Feminism recognizes connections. Imagine.”
However, Carol J. Adams extends this idea to the non-human. The questions she raises are very pertinent. On a basic level, she asks feminists to consider what they are arguing for. As advocates of female rights and motherhood they would naturally be opposed to sexual exploitation and the forced separation between a mother and a child (which occurs in all forms of animal agriculture.) Adams suggests that in the very act of eating meat, feminists are defeating their own objectives. She argues that one cannot call themselves a feminist if they partake in such things. In a way, they are destroying the female body by consuming it.
And it’s a very interesting point. Rather than offering criticism, she suggests all feminists need to be vegetarian in order to be stronger feminists. Now lets rewind, this isn’t an effort to reduce the achievements of feminist or what they do. There have been many great feminists who achieved wonders for women, regardless of what they happened to eat. What Adams is suggesting, through cold hard logic and fact, that in order to be a better feminist, a more complete feminist, one should be a vegetarian or a vegan. By avoiding meat, it is a direct challenge to the patriarchy and the norms that set a slaughtered female body on our plates and call it dinner.
“In some respects we all acknowledge the sexual politics of meat. When we think that men, especially male athletes, need meat, or when wives report that they could give up meat but they fix it for their husbands, the overt association between meat eating and virile maleness is enacted. It is the covert associations that are more elusive to pinpoint as they are so deeply embedded within our culture.
Toxic masculinity is also an issue. Adams brings to the fray the idea that men need meat. It’s associated with masculinity, and vegans and vegetarians who don’t partake are often represented as weak or womanly. This is of course false within society. Vegans and vegetarian can be world leading athletes; yet, this label remains. Adams addresses some of the propaganda and societal conditioning that creates this sense of unease for men. Disproportionately, there is a much larger percentage of women who don’t eat meat than there are men who do not. Food for thought, I think.
This is a very important book in the realms of animal studies and ecocriticism. And, from a personal point of view, it has influenced me greatly as both a vegan and a student of literature. I urge people to read it, even if it is just to see a perspective different to their own. This was written 30 years ago now, and when considering the recent surge in green movements, animal rights advocacy and veganism, it’s more relevant now than ever. These ideas are gaining more credence and authority as time goes on.
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“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.”
This is a highl“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.”
This is a highly charged feminist essay loaded with powerful rhetoric and words that demand to be heard.
Virginia Woolf doesn’t ask for a lot really. She just wants a room of one’s own. Sounds simple enough but this room has far reaching implications. The room is space, space to grow, learn and write. Creativity is the key. Far too often women didn’t get the opportunity to express it and develop any form of art.
“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.”
Woolf recognises her own advantages, the key being a fine education allowing her to become successful and financially independent. She is a rarity, and she used this as a basis to attack the patriarchy and the stupid nuances that leave women in intellectual shackles. Granted, the twentieth century saw more women writers emerge than any other century, but there were still improvements to be made. Woolf led the charge. She wanted more for every woman.
Sure, you could make the case that there had been many fine female writers of fiction before Woolf. The Brontes, Austen, Eliot and Gaskell stand out as the most prominent novelists, but the point is not every women is afforded the opportunities that allow her to become a writer. If she is not educated, and given room and space, then she will never know what she could be capable of.
Woolf’s words are sharp and directly address the problems in realistic terms. She’s not an idealist, just a pragmatist who suggests things that should not need to be suggested. Intellectual freedom is not a right, it’s a necessity all should be able to attain.
A compelling essay, still very relevant today!...more
“Teach her to love books. If she sees you reading she will understand that reading is valuable. Books will help her understand the world, help her “Teach her to love books. If she sees you reading she will understand that reading is valuable. Books will help her understand the world, help her express herself, and help her in whatever she wants to become.”
Reading, reading is so vitally important in understanding other people and differences. It develops empathy and it makes the world a better place. We should never restrict ourselves in life, men or women, it doesn’t matter as long as we do not full victim to the silly constraints imposed upon us by society. Books help so much.
As with We Should All Be Feminists Adichie proposes positive change moving forward. However, with this also came a personal touch. This was never written to be published, but was instead a letter written to her friend (Ijeawele) offering honest advice on how to make her daughter into a feminist and a better human being.
“Teach her that the idea of 'gender roles' is absolute nonsense. Do not ever tell her that she should or should not do something because she is a girl. 'Because you are a girl' is never reason for anything. Ever.”
With it came experience and the suffering of living in a world that alters people’s minds. Growing up, Adichie and her friend had to learn the hard way. They had the pre-installed cultural mind-set that made them feel and act as if they were less than men. They felt like they could not do certain things and had to behave in “appropriate” ways. It took years for Adichie to gain the confidence to question her situation and tackle it head on. What she offers her friend in fifteen suggestions is an easier route: to grow up in a society knowing her rights.
I’ve decided that I really, really, need to read one of her novels after this. I love the message she imparts and it will be interesting to see if this carries over into her fiction....more
This is the single most convincing essay I’ve ever read on feminism. It does not point fingers and blame men for a cultural mind-set they were born inThis is the single most convincing essay I’ve ever read on feminism. It does not point fingers and blame men for a cultural mind-set they were born into. Instead, it offers calm logical arguments for positive change going forward. And that’s what the world needs:
“A world of happier men and happier women who are truer to themselves. And this is how to start: We must raise our daughters differently. We must also raise our sons differently.”
Adichie states that the strongest feminist she ever knew was a man, and that’s kind of important. This is an essay about building bridges; it appeals directly to men and asks them to look at the world differently: it ask them to look at their actions, ones which were harmless and indirect, but were nevertheless sexist: it tries to make them open their eyes.
“The problem with gender is that it prescribes how we should be rather than recognizing how we are. Imagine how much happier we would be, how much freer to be our true individual selves, if we didn’t have the weight of gender expectations.”
“I am trying to unlearn many lessons of gender I internalized while growing up. But I sometimes still feel vulnerable in the face of gender expectations.”
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Gender is the key. Adichie gives an example of how when she first became a teacher she wore male orientated clothing on her first day. She wore a suit so the students would take her more seriously rather than just dressing in a way that made her comfortable. She sacrificed her individuality because of gender expectations. In order to be more authoritative she dressed like a man because a woman would not have had as much respect in such a situation. And that’s truly sad.
The same is true for men who feel unable to express their emotions because such a thing is considered weak and unmanly. We all have the capacity to feel and the fact that fiery emotions are considered a feminine trait is just, well, odd. But that’s the world we live in. Adichie proposes that we ignore such stupid labels and be whoever we wish to be: we are ourselves.
There’s so much negative stigma attached to the word feminist. This book is the true face of modern feminism, read it and you will not be able to fault its logic.
We should all be feminists after. ___________________________________
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I question the intelligence and moral integrity of any man who does not consider himself a feminist, and I also question the fact that I am the only mI question the intelligence and moral integrity of any man who does not consider himself a feminist, and I also question the fact that I am the only male in my friend’s list to read this book. Books like this are so vitally important, important for both men and women. So go read it! I’m not trying to shame my male friends, but merely point out the imbalance in the readers of this book, at least, here on goodreads.
Why is this I wonder?
Mary argues that ever since the ancient Greeks women have been held back and their voices subsequently silenced. Are we not as men, in effect, silencing her by not reading her words? Food for thought.
Mary Beard often picks up on the small things, tiny details, but together they represent a cultural mind-set that is inherent and almost imbedded into the human psyche. Often objects of power are associated with ideas of masculinity, which is something women take on when they acquire power. She draws on modern examples, political leaders, who dress like men and take on other traits in order to be more persuasive. Her arguments are often generalised, though what she touches upon is something that cannot by its nature be accurately recorded.
So this is a rather compelling little book, but I can’t help but feel that it is a wasted opportunity. She really could have expanded upon the ideas here and strengthened them by exploring them further. Although her arguments are intuitive, she only scratches the surface: she could have said so much more....more
Wollstonecraft is not passionate; she does not offer any inspiring words or flowery language. Wollstonecraft writes with no embellishment or artistry;Wollstonecraft is not passionate; she does not offer any inspiring words or flowery language. Wollstonecraft writes with no embellishment or artistry; yet, her words are commanding and exceedingly persuasive because what she does have is cold, hard, logic. And she knows it.
“My own sex, I hope, will excuse me, if I treat them like rational creatures, instead of flattering their fascinating graces, and viewing them as if they were in a state of perpetual childhood, unable to stand alone.”
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She refused to appeal to the sensibilities and imaginations of her readers. Instead she wished to display her rational intellect, an intellect free of flights of fancy and one that had the ability to access the situation in all its reality. She argued that women, in their current state, had no means of proving their worth. She believed that women were physically inferior to men, but in terms of intellect they were equal and that they so desperately needed a noble, edifying, pursuit in which to show this.
Wollstonecraft offers many compelling arguments in here, though for me her most logical pertains to human progress; she argues that without education it will simply stop: a very true point. Humanity needs to continue to develop, but this is impossible if only half of humanity is educated. She argues that women cannot teach their children if they in turn are not educated. How can she impart any wisdom or teach any sense of patriotism if she has not learnt to love mankind? Wollstonecraft believed that the key to overturning sexism began and ended with education.
“Strengthen the female mind by enlarging it, and there will be an end to blind obedience.”
Due to the lack of education women recieved, Wollstonecraft suggests that they have been rendered wretched and weak. They are merely classified as females rather than members of mankind. She wants to see women take on manly qualities, well, traits associated with manhood. She wanted to break the oppressive gender boundaries that limited the faculty of her sex. As such, she was satirised by many novelists and critics for being manly herself. The ironic thing is that such a label only serves to achieve what she is arguing for. She wanted women to be many, to be equal to men.
However, Wollstonecraft was at times very condescending towards women. Whilst she does not blame them for their predicament, that blame lays at the door of the patriarchy and men in general, she does chastise them for not trying to break through their shackles. Though what she fails to recognise is that for many women they do not have the benefit of looking beyond earning enough money to get through the week and looking after their families. Wollstonecraft is distinctively middle-class, and as such, at times, she lacks the ability to empathise with the reality of the situation some women will find themselves in. She also undervalues the lessons and teachings uneducated people can still pass on to their children, the value of hard work and honesty for example.
Such minor issues with her writing by no means downplay the power and logic behind her arguments, arguments that would go on to inspire the next generation of writers (including her daughter and her daughter’s husband, no doubt.) I also noticed some very particular phrasing that was later mirrored almost verbatim in Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. Wollstonecraft’s ideas were carried further by a medium she deplored, the novel. She really underestimated its power as a learning device.
Wollstonecraft is certainly a powerful literary figure to be admired, and, this, as a seminal work in the development of feminism is, certainly, a work of undying success and potency....more
Books mean a great deal to me. Are you surprised to hear me say this? I think not. As a consequence, I really enjoy reading books about people who reaBooks mean a great deal to me. Are you surprised to hear me say this? I think not. As a consequence, I really enjoy reading books about people who really enjoy books. It’s just how these things work. And Jeanette Winterson really, really, likes books. When she had nothing, she always had her books: they gave her courage and strength. This is a book for those that love reading and writing; this is a book for those that understand why someone would spend their entire life doing such things: it is a book that speaks directly to the book lover.
Jeannette had a very cold childhood; her mother was a depressive who had a very warped mind set. She was devoutly religious but rather than seeing religion as a means of spreading love and understanding, she saw it as a way to chastise people. She was a misanthrope, a hater of mankind. When she looked at society all she saw was a wretched cusp of civilisation that needed to be punished. It was unworthy of God’s teachings, of the word of the Bible. And she was obsessed with the Bible, reading it multiple times each year. She attempted to limit her daughter’s faculties by not letting her read beyond its pages.
So Jeanette read in private, hiding her collection of books under her bed. One day her mother found them and burnt them all in the back garden. She destroyed the books of Jeanette’s youth, but she couldn’t destroy her. Jeanette began to learn literature by heart because that could never be taken away from her, and then she set out to write her own story. This book would become her first novel Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit which, if you didn’t already know, went on to win numerous literary awards along with establishing Winterson as a successful writer.
Her writing is highly autobiographical, drawing on her own experiences to create her narratives. Oranges focuses much on sexuality, gender and the restrictions of religious belief. This, on the other hand, centralises the relationship between Jeanette and her mother within the narrative. It builds on the themes established in Oranges and addresses them in a much more intelligent voice. Twenty-five years have passed in between books, and her mother has died since, and as a result Winterson addresses the themes with more clarity and retrospective wisdom.
She both hated and loved her mother. Jeanette was adopted, and she has always felt unwanted and incapable of accepting love: she has always felt empty inside. The coldness of her adoptive mother has been to blame for much of this, but her actions created the writer. Without them, Winterson would never have established her literary voice. She would never have read so widely and so voraciously and set her on the path to finding her voice. She knows exactly what her mother was to her:
“She was a monster, but she was my monster.”
So this is a deeply personal account about Winterson’s life; it is revealing and powerful. I admire her courage to not only write such fiction, but to impart so much of herself to her readers. It’s very brave writing, highly successful too....more
I’ve been moved by books in the past, many times, but I’ve never before read a book that has emotionally drained me to such a degree. This is frightenI’ve been moved by books in the past, many times, but I’ve never before read a book that has emotionally drained me to such a degree. This is frightening and powerful. And sometimes it only takes a single paragraph to make you realise how much so:
“Yes, Ma’am, I said again, forgetting. They used to have dolls, for little girls, that would talk if you pulled a string at the back; I thought I was sounding like that, voice of a monotone, voice of a doll. She probably longed to slap my face. They can hit us, there’s Scriptural precedent. But not with any implement. Only with their hands.”
Needless to say, this is an absolutely awful situation. From the very beginning, I knew how much I was going to like this book. Its story isn’t one that it is simply read: it demands to be heard. It beckoned me to see the full force of the situation. The Handmaids, the average woman, have no free will or individualism; they are treated as simple baby producing machines. An oppressive regime is forced upon them, and to deviate from the said standard results in a slow and agonising death. There’s no hope or joy for them, only perpetual subjugation.
Indeed, this is where Atwood’s awe inspiringly persuasive powers reside. By portraying such a bleak situation, she is able to fully demonstrate what life could be like if we suddenly followed the misogynistic views of the old testament with fierce intensity. Women would have no power whatsoever. This would be reinforced by a complete cultural destruction and lack of any form of self-expression. They would not be able to read or write; they would not be able to speak their minds. It would even go as far as to condition them so powerfully, that they completely lack the ability of independent thought. And, to make it even worse, the women know no difference. Sure, the narrator of this remembers her past, but she’s not allowed to. She is forced to repress any sense of individual sentiment.
“But who can remember pain, once it’s over? All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind.”
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The narrator has a horrendous ordeal, in an equally as horrendous world. The notion was devised as a response against a drastic decrease in birth-rates. Men in power have taken complete control of women in both body and mind to insure an increase in the declining birth-rates. As I mentioned, their individualism is repressed, but the men also prevent any physical freedom. The women are owned by the state, by the men and by corruption; their bodies are nothing more than a means to provide new life. In this, they are degraded to a state of sub-human existence; they are no longer people. Atwood suggests that they are merely a reproductive organ, one that can be discarded without thought, mercy or conscience. This is reinforced on every level; the language delivers this on a revealing scale. The names are suggestive of the oppression; the protagonist is called “Offred.” She is of-Fred: she belongs to him. The women are assigned names that are not their own; they are dubbed with the disgusting title of “Handmaiden.” By doing so they are left with very little of their former lives. The women are simply objects to be used, controlled and destroyed and the slightest hint of nonconformity to such an absurd system. But, here’s the rub. The best, and most haunting, thing about this novel is its scary plausibility.
The culture created is evocative of one that could actually exist. The way the men attempt to justify its existence is nothing short of terrifying. They make it sound perfectly normal. Well, not normal, but an idea that could be justified to a people. Not that it is justifiable, but the argument they present has just enough eerie resemblance to a cold, logical, response to make it seem probable in its misguided vileness. The totalitarian elements provide an image of a people that will do endure anything if they’re provided with a glimpse of liberty. The small degree of liberty the Handmaids think they have doesn’t actually exist: it’s an illusion, a trick, a shadow on the wall. They’re manipulated into believing it and become frenzied in the face of it. It is the ultimate means of control in its nastiness.
“A rat in a maze is free to go anywhere, as long as it stays inside the maze.”
This book was horrifying and strangely perceptive. If you’re thinking about reading this, stop thinking, just read it. It’s brilliant. It’s a book I will definitely be reading again because it is just so thought provoking and disturbing.
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Reader, I gave it five stars. Please let me tell you why.
Jane Eyre is the quintessential Victorian novel. It literally has everything that was typic Reader, I gave it five stars. Please let me tell you why.
Jane Eyre is the quintessential Victorian novel. It literally has everything that was typical of the period, but, unlike other novels, it has all the elements in one story. At the centre is the romance between Jane and Rochester, which is enhanced by gothic elements such as the uncanniness of the doppleganger and the spectre like qualities of Bertha. In addition, it is also a governess novel; these were an incredibly popular type of storytelling in the age and for it to be combined with gothic elements, which are interposed with a dualistic relationship between realism and romance, is really quite unique. The correct term for this is a hybrid, in which no genre voice is dominant; they exist alongside each other creating one rather special book.
And this is so, so, special; it’s an excellent piece of literature. Jane’s journey is gut wrenching and emotional. Through her life she experiences real sorrow, the kind that would make a lesser person give up. She also experiences real friendship, the type that comes across perhaps once in a lifetime. But, most significantly, she experiences true love and the development of independence to form he own ending. I really do love this book. Bronte utilises the first person narrative, which creates a high degree of intimacy with her character; it makes me feel like I know Jane as well as she comes to know her own self.
“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”
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Jane’s a strong willed individual. From a very young age she had the clarity of intelligence to recognise the injustice that was her life; yes, she is narrating her story retrospectively, though she still had the perceptiveness to realise how mistreated she was. I love the pathetic fallacy Bronte uses at the beginning. The child Jane looks out the window, shielded by the curtain, and witnesses the horrible weather. It is cold and bleak; it is windy and morose; thus, we can immediately see the internal workings of Jane’s mind. The weather reflects her feelings throughout the novel, and at the very beginning the situation was at its worse. This can also be seen with the fire imagery that represents her rage when she is shoved in the red room; it later mirrors that of Bertha’s fury.
Everybody needs love, children especially so. These early experiences help to define her later character, and, ultimately influence how she sees the world; she still hides behind a curtain in Rochester’s house when he flirts with Miss Ingrum. These experiences set her on an almost perpetual quest for love, for belonging and for the independence to make her own decisions. She finds friendship in the form of Helen Burns; she gives her some sound advice, but Jane cannot fully accept such religious fatalism. However, it does inspire her, a little, to continue with life; she realises, no matter what happens, she will always have the love of her greatest friend. Jane clings to this idea, but, ultimately, has to seek a more permanent solution to her loneliness. She needs a vocation, one that will fulfil her and give her life meaning; thus, she becomes a governess and crosses paths with the downtrodden, miserable wretch that is Mr Rochester.
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Sometimes I feel like Rochester didn’t know quite what he wanted. When he sees Jane he sees a woman with strength, blunt honesty and integrity: he sees an emotional equal. This attracts her to him, which develops into love. However, when he tries to express his love he does it through trying to claim her as his own. Through doing so, not only does he show the nature of Victorian marriage, he shows his own deep vulnerability. He loves her mind, her intelligence, and he too wants to be loved. He longs for it with a frightening passion. So, instead of doing things the way Jane would have wanted him to do, he overwhelms her with expensive affection. By doing so he almost loses her. All Jane wanted was his heart, nothing more nothing less.
By showering her with such flattery and expensive items, he insults her independence. He risks destroying the thing that attracted him to her in the first place, their equality; their mutual respect and love. He takes away her dignity. I really don’t think the original marriage would have worked. Ignore the existence of the mad woman in the attic; I just think Rochester would have spoilt it. It would have become too awkward. They needed to be on the same societal level as well as one of intellect and character. The ending is touching and a little sad, but it is the only one that could ever have worked for these two characters. Without the tragedy there could never have be rejuvenation and the chance for them to be together on equal terms, no matter what it cost to get there.
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If that wasn’t enough reason for me to love this book, there are also elements of fantasy and desire. This is a realism novel, it pertains to credible events, but the suggestions of fantasy only add to the strong romantic notions. Rochester is enamoured by Jane; he cannot believe that a woman like her actually exists. All his misguided notions are brushed away in an instant. Whilst he views Jane as special, it is clear that he realises that other women may also have a similar rebellious voice, only hidden. He considers her an elf, a witch, an improbable woman that has captured his desire, his heart, his soul, his life. He knows he will never be the same again. From Jane’s point of view, her first encounter with him is otherworldly. She had grown bored with her governess role, and when she sees the approach of Rochester and his dog Pilot, she sees the gytrash myth; she wants to see something fantastical instead she finds her heart, which is something much rarer.
Then there are also the feminist elements. Jane transgresses the boundary associated with her gender in the Victorian age. For a woman to be recognised as having equal intellect to that of a man was sadly a rare thing. Women could actually attend university, but the downside was they could never get the full degree. They could spend months studying, though never be recognised as actually having gained the qualification. It was just another attempt to keep women under the thumb, so for Bronte to portray the truth of Jane’s equal intellect is a great step for the recognition of women, and women writers. This book received a whole host of negative reviews at the time of its publication for this element alone. Stupid really, but that’s misogyny for you.
Reader, I love this book. I really could go on, but this is getting kind of long. I hope I’ve made it clear why I love this story so much. I shall be reading this again later this year to correspond with my exams, which I’m already looking forward to- the reading that is, not the exams. I don’t think will ever have read this story enough though.
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Sean Barrs
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Books:
feminism
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