Eyre-ing Out My Mind

Currently Reading: Moby Dick by Herman Melville

After finishing (the upsettingly abridged version of) The Count of Monte Cristo back in June, I decided I needed a bit of a mental break. Just as summer signaled the end of assigned readings while I was in school, it signaled the end of challenging reading for me this year. Even though I liked The Count of Monte Cristo, I just needed a book that you wouldn’t study in a classroom; I needed a serving of book candy.

With this in mind, I picked up Jasper Fforde’s The Eyre Affair. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. A quick paced, intriguing plot with a strong, likeable heroine and endless clever allusions to classic literature, The Eyre Affair was an enjoyable way to pass the time on my now daily metro rides. In fact, it was so enjoyable that I promptly went out and bought the next two books in the series, Lost in a Good Book and The Well of Lost Plots, and thus continued my book candy binge. I’m now anxiously awaiting the following four books, Something Rotten, First Among Sequels, One of our Thursday Nexts is Missing, and The Woman Who Died A Lot, as anticipated birthday presents at the end of the month.

The story takes place in an alternate reality in which time travel is possible; dodos are a popular pet; Neanderthals have been resurrected; and literature is taken seriously enough that there are literary detectives who investigate crimes against literature. One such literary detective is the heroine, Thursday Next, who ultimately gets wrapped up in a case in which she has to return the kidnapped Jane Eyre to her rightful place in her novel.

The sequels go on to introduce the complex world of Fiction, including the agency that governs crimes from within, Jurisfiction. While hiding out, Thursday Next eventually joins the ranks among other agents like Miss Haversham from Great Expectations. (Side note: I’m really intrigued to read Great Expectations now just to see how accurate Fforde’s depiction of the character is.)

There are three particular reasons that I really liked reading The Eyre Affair and its sequels.

The first is the number of literary inside jokes. I loved understanding the references to classic literature and getting caught up in the various Shakespeare authorship debates! And when I didn’t understand a joke, it made me want to read the referenced material so that I would. This makes this book special in that it not only makes its readers want to continue with the series, but it inspires them to read other books. I think that’s wonderful!

Plus, come on, who doesn’t love a good literature or grammar joke?

The second is that I love the idea that characters in novels have a life beyond the page. As someone who still somewhat subscribes to the idea that her stuffed animals came to life when she left the room, Toy Story-style, I really like to think of my favorite characters existing outside of their stories, acting as agents for Jurisfiction or needing walkmans to pass the time between their scenes. You get so attached to these characters that they start to feel like real people, friends of yours, so it’s nice to think that even after your time with them has finished because you’ve finished reading the novel that your friends go on living, like a friend who has moved across the country or something.

The third reason I liked this novel is that I love that this story provides plausible – if fantastical – explanations for some of the weird plot points of Jane Eyre. The most important and novel-altering is the mysterious voice that calls out Jane’s name, convincing her to suddenly return to Rochester. I’m not sure what Charlotte Bronte had in mind for the explanation of that bizarre and random voice, but I like the idea that it was Thursday Next because she had to get Jane back to Rochester so she could escape the novel. I also like the idea that the fire that causes Rochester’s injuries was an accident rather than an intended plot point set down by the author. It always felt a bit cruel and odd that Bronte would maim Rochester and destroy Thornfield Hall. Plus, the fire is never really explained beyond a weak, “Mrs. Rochester is crazy! Of course she’d burn down the house!” So having it be the setting for the pivotal battle between the sociopath villain Hades and Thursday Next feels like a much more reasonable explanation. I applaud Fforde’s cleverness and creativity for filling in these gaps.

These books were a wonderful surprise and I’m very excited to continue the series.

Especially since reading Moby Dick might just kill me.

You Never Get Over Your First Love – Too Bad Mine is Fictional

Currently Reading: Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

Full disclosure: I got this idea from an article someone posted on Facebook from a site called Hello Giggles. If you’d like to read that article, I’ve included the link below:

http://hellogiggles.com/literary-crushes-objectifying-the-men-of-books

In the Hello Giggles article, the author describes all the literary men she has crushes on, including such dashing figures as Mr. Darcy and Mr. Rochester as well as some slightly more unorthodox love interests like Wolverine from the X-men comic strips.

So this article got me thinking. I’ve long known that fictional men – both in literature and in film – have essentially ruined my chances at being satisfied with a real-life relationship. They are dreamy, intelligent and strong. Furthermore, they always know just what to say or do to make the heroine – and the reader – swoon in a way that no real person ever possibly could. 

But who, specifically, got the ball rolling and set the bar too high?

I started going over all my favorite romance stories in my head, trying to decide which ones I thought were the greatest; which men were the ones I wanted to leap off the page and carry me off into the sunset. Naturally, some of the men on the Hello Giggles list popped into my head. I mean, what woman isn’t in love with Mr. Darcy? And I’ve already explained how I want a man to love me the way Mr. Rochester loves Jane Eyre in my post about that book.

I thought of some more obscure love stories, like the one between Daine and Numair in the Tortall books Wildmage series (books by Tamora Pierce that are not widely known but are intensely loved by its followers). Their first kiss was a long awaited scene for me, as the two maintained a platonic relationship for the majority of the four-book series, and I remember repeatedly reading it as an adolescent.

As I went through all these men trying to piece together my own list of literary crushes, I realized that I loved them, but only with their heroine. Although I love Mr. Rochester for the way he loves Jane Eyre, he’s too rough around the edges for me. I’m elated every time Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy end up together, but I wouldn’t want to marry Mr. Darcy myself (I know. I may have to give up my second X-chromosome for that confession).

Over and over, I really looked at each of my literary dream men and came to the same conclusion. Out of all these handsome, brave, and romantic men, the only one with whom I couldn’t find a fault is the first one who popped into my head; practically the first romantic hero I ever encountered:

I am and always will be in love with Prince Charmont from Gail Carson Levine’s Ella Enchanted.

Yes, that is a children's/young adult book.

But I can't help it! I will always want a man like Prince Charmont, aka Char. He’s gentle and kind yet strong enough to fight trolls. He’s brave and diplomatic, considerate and even-tempered - all the perfect traits for the leader of a kingdom. However, what makes Char my one true literary love is that underneath all his properness, he’s still just a kid at heart. 

I desperately want a man who knows how to be an adult in the right situation, but will still use his buttons as a trail when we explore an abandoned castle; a man who will slide down a stair banister with me, catch me at the bottom and then cry, “Again!” I love Char for his eagerness to laugh and to make others laugh. 

I also love Char for writing letters. I’m sure it’s just another indication of my obsession with words, but I love that he takes the time to write, sharing his days, thoughts, and faults in detail, things I can barely get some guys to tell me, let alone commit to paper.

So no matter what else happens, I will never get over my first fictional love. I will always dream of receiving a letter that ends:

“Love (it is such a relief to pen the word!), love, love – Char” (pg. 182).

Jane Eyre - the Good and the Bad

Currently Reading: 1984 by George Orwell

First impression of Jane Eyre: my God this book is a lot longer than I always thought it was!

Lasting impression of Jane Eyre: I’m incredibly jealous of Jane Eyre and greatly admire her. However, I am also glad that I don’t live in an era with the same levels of religiosity, propriety and deficient psychology knowledge.

WARNING: This blog post contains some major spoilers so if you haven’t read Jane Eyre, you should probably stop reading now.

I’m jealous of Jane Eyre in two senses. The first is that she is a brilliant role model and has numerous character traits that I wish I also had. She has such an intense fiery spirit that initially makes her slightly volatile and prone to outbursts of restlessness. Yet she eventually masters this fire so that it’s no longer aimlessly raging and instead becomes the fuel necessary to maintain the inner strength required to hold to her convictions and sense of self no matter what. I envy her steadfastness and her ability to remain true to herself and her beliefs in any circumstance, even when it upsets others. I find her constant hopefulness, her discipline, and her goodness admirable and it makes me long to be more like her. I’m jealous of her for not being wishy-washy or overly concerned with others’ opinions, traits she outgrows yet that I cannot shake.

The second reason I’m jealous of Jane Eyre is because of the love she shares with Mr. Rochester. Sorry to be a girl, but I really hope someone loves me the way Mr. Rochester loves Jane Eyre someday. I want to find a relationship like theirs that’s based on respect and shared intellect; a relationship in which we understand each other for who we really are, strengths and flaws included, and love each other for all of it. I hope I find a love like theirs in which it really feels like finding your soul mate. I’m envious of their passion for each other and their ability to not lose themselves entirely in each other while maintaining this passion – a balance I haven’t always been great at striking.

In these ways, I adored reading this novel about growing up and finding your great love.

However, in other ways, this book just reminded me how glad I am that I live in a different time period.

Throughout the story, I was surprised by the large role religion played. Perhaps it’s because my exposure to other novels of this genre – i.e. Wuthering Heights and all of Jane Austen’s novels – largely did not have particularly faithful characters, but I really did not anticipate Jane Eyre to be so religious. I was taken aback when she spent so much time in a repressive, religious school and came out of it with an intense love of God. I was further surprised that she very nearly became a missionary’s wife out of a sense of duty, even though she loved another man. I was stunned (and honestly, a little disappointed) that the last character mentioned in the novel is the overly religious missionary - a character whose faith is intense to a point that Charlotte Bronte does not condone. Despite the fact that he isn’t introduced until more than half way through the novel and that he isn’t ever seen as especially likeable, he’s the one with the last word in the story? It didn’t seem fitting to me. Maybe it was a bothersome element of the novel to me because I’m simply not religious at all, but I’m glad that religion isn’t such a dominant and prevalent force in my life that I feel compelled to throw all my happiness away for the chance to do my duty to God.

I’m also glad that I wasn’t born in an era when propriety was so important. There’s a specific instance in the novel when this became overwhelmingly clear to me. It came after Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester became engaged. Mr. Rochester describes the life he envisions for them, including extravagant adventures to show her all the places she’s wanted to see, showers Jane with gifts, and insists that she will spend more time with him once she’s his wife. To me, and I believe to most women of my era, this sounds incredible!

However, Jane insists that none of this would be proper. She insists that even after they are married, everything should continue as it has been, with her still acting like his inferior rather than his equal. She firmly believes it wouldn’t be proper to do otherwise. Honestly, this sounds insane to me. She wants to get married and not have anything change? She wants to continue acting like her husband’s inferior even though he’s repeatedly told her he finds her to be his only equal (I’m paraphrasing here)? I’m so relieved that I didn’t grow up believing that this was proper.

The last aspect of the novel that made me really, really grateful that I live in the time period I do is Mrs. Rochester.

Again, I repeat that this is a big time spoiler! Just want to make sure you’re warned.

On the day that Jane and her beloved Mr. Rochester are to finally be married – which only comes halfway through the novel so you know something is going to go wrong – Jane discovers the horrifying truth about her betrothed. Turns out, he’s already married and his wife is still alive, living like a caged animal in the attic of his house. When Mrs. Rochester is introduced, she’s an obstacle keeping the protagonists from happiness. She’s a terror, vicious and both homicidal and suicidal. Her character makes Mr. Rochester more sympathetic and makes the reader greatly pity the poor, unknowing and crushed Jane Eyre.

However, I have to admit that I bizarrely felt terrible for Mrs. Rochester. As a sufferer from a mild anxiety disorder (not even close to the ranks of Mrs. Rochester’s illness for the record), I have great sympathy for people who clearly have mental illness in a time when mental illnesses were not understood at all, beyond that it meant they were crazy and broken. Mrs. Rochester appears to suffer from schizophrenia or some other equally intense mental illness and to be treated the way she is seems so dehumanizing. She’s trapped and ignored and literally treated like a rabid animal when she’s suffering in the most awful way possible. I mean, her mind is essentially attacking itself, that’s pretty unbearable. Thus, even though I know that Mrs. Rochester is supposed to be seen as a psychopath – which she is – I still feel sorry for her because if she lived in a different time she’d be viewed very differently.

So… overall impression of Jane Eyre? The good parts outweigh the bad and it’s a wonderful novel worth reading.