L Re-reads a Classic: Jane Eyre

There is no better film adaptation and no better Mr. Rochester, in my opinion, than the 1997 Samantha Morton, Ciaran Hinds TV version of Jane Eyre.  But then I’m rather partial to Hinds.  He does a wonderful Captain Wentworth in Persuasion (1995).  Sigh.  And as Mr. Rochester, he is delightfully surly, filled with pathos and burning desire for Jane.  Double sigh.

 

As the second novel in my Victorian Literature course I had the pleasure of re-reading Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, though I write this somewhat tongue-in-cheek, for although I love the Hinds movie version, and I love the parts of the book, much of it has always wondered off into too much Christian mumble jumble for me to truly love it.  It was with much hope then that with a close re-reading of the novel I would find a new appreciation for the book.  I did and I didn’t.

 

I still found moments in the book far too preachy for my tastes.  Little orphan Helen Burns is just too filled with goody two-shoeness at the beginning of the novel, and St. Johns Rivers is too much the religious zealot, and all the Christian hyperbole and rhetoric just makes me yawn and roll my eyes.  But despite all this, there is something in the romance of Jane and Mr. Rochester that brings me back for more, time and time again. 

 

For those of you who don’t know the tale (and honestly, have you been living under a rock?!), we are introduced to our intrepid heroine, Jane Eyre, at the age of ten, living penniless and parentless on the spurious charity of her uncle’s widow, Mrs. Reed, who turns out to be no fit mother to little orphan Jane.  The moment Mrs. Reed can farm out poor Jane to Lowood Institution, she does and there Jane spends the next eight years (six as a pupil, two as teacher).  Lowood, by the way, is one horrible, nasty place where the food, what little there is, is burnt more often than not, and the ill-clothed girls, when not at their studies from morning to night, are tramping miles in the frigid weather to Sunday services.  I jest not, though the old joke’s punch line “uphill both ways” resounds in my head.

 

At Lowood Jane meets fellow orphan Helen Burns who is far too good and angelic for this world and soon dies of consumption.  It is also at Lowood where Jane encounters the antithesis of Mrs. Reed in Miss Temple, a much gentler and kinder mother-figure who abandons Jane for marriage to a clergyman less worthy of such an esteemed woman, at least in Jane’s opinion.  This abandonment unearths the wandering spirit long suppressed in Jane, and she advertises herself out as a governess.  The only reply is from a Mrs. Fairfax at Thornfield Hall.

 

Ah Thornfield, home of the troubled Mr. Rochester.  We soon learn that little Adele, who Jane is hired as a governess for, is the daughter of his former mistress, because Mr. Rochester lived a life of unhappy dissipation for many years.  The why of which is eventually revealed in the form of a mad wife locked away in the attic.  Of course, Mr. Rochester falls in love with Jane, but their marriage is thwarted by wife #1.

 

The mad wife and her antics gives us a nice gothic twist to this tale, with bumps in the night, mad laughter echoing from behind closed doors, and so forth.  Delicious!

 

Broken-hearted Jane flees Thornfield and falls upon the mercy and charity of the Rivers family, clergyman St. John and his two sisters Diana and Mary.  This is the part of the book that is most boring for me, because I just want to see the lovers united.  But the reader’s forbearance is rewarded, as is Jane’s goodness when she receives an unexpected inheritance from a long lost uncle leaving her a woman of independent means, and she returns to Thornfield to find out whatever happened to that guy, Mr. Rochester.  Cue the violins and pass the Kleenex, because the lovers are about to discover they are both finally free and socially equal enough as to join hands in holy matrimony and live happily ever after.

 

Very big, satisfying sigh for all is once again right with the world, which calls for a pot of tea in celebration, so…

 

Till next time, happy reading!

L J

 

TBR = 24

WPL = 28

L Reads a Classic: Oliver Twist

Once upon a time, in the ninth grade, I was handed a thick little book with an unprepossessing yellow cover.  It was the first book assigned for reading in English class that year, and I opened it with great expectation as I was an avid reader as a child and never considered school books a chore to get through.  This novel was by an author I had never read before, a classic novel about a boy named Pip growing up on the English moors and a dusty old broad who lived in her wedding dress and zzzzzzz.

 

Yup, the book was Great Expectations and it was a total snoozefest for a 14-year-old me.  I might not have done so great in English class that year, but I slept well.  Of course, it put me off Dickens for over a decade until I finally sat down and read A Christmas Carol one year.  My favourite movie version is the Alistair Sims black and white one from 1951.  I watch it every Christmas, so decided it was high time to read the book from whence it comes.  I loved the book so much I figured I should give Dickens another try…but I’m chicken you see.  Just didn’t want to be sucked into another bad read.  This year, however, I’m studying Victorian Literature at the U, with Oliver Twist on the reading list.  No opportunity to avoid Dickens now, thankfully, because much to my surprise, I quite enjoyed it.  I believe I’ll have to tackle Great Expectations again one day soon.  Who knows?  From my advanced years of maturity J I just might find I like it after all.

 

Back to Oliver Twist, this is Dickens’ first fully realized novel (his previous publication was the Pickwick Papers consisting of serialized sketches of loosely-related adventures that were suggested to him to write.  Oliver Twist on the other hand is directly out of his own head) and was first published in serial form.  Being an early novel of a young writer, it has its numerous flaws, and yet the trials and tribulations of poor, orphaned Oliver (“Please sir, I want some more”) are quite griping.  Born of an unwed mother, raised in the workhouse and tossed upon the streets of London to fall victim to pickpockets (like the Artful Dodger) and other unsavoury characters, Oliver manages to retain his inherent goodness and is suitably rewarded in the end.

 

What I love about this and other classic novels is how they’re woven into the framework of our modern day existence.  Who hasn’t heard of the Artful Dodger?  Little perhaps did you know he found poor Ollie starving on the streets of London and took him home to become yet one more of Fagin’s boys.  Of course there is also the iconic “please sir can I have some more?” from the movies, which is actually “I want some more,” an incredibly important distinction in the earlier Victorian period when man’s spiritual being was being ignored for the benefit of mechanism (it was the industrial age, after all).  I joke about this phrase, since it was in my head from the moment I picked up the book, only to discover it happens in the second chapter, probably about as far as most people get when reading Dickens haha.  But truly, the novel has much to offer in the way of suspense.  It is a story that takes many twists and turns and comes to a rather satisfying end, and as I’ve already mentioned, I very much enjoyed the reading of it.

 

Till next time, happy reading!

L J

 

 

TBR = 23

WPL = 28

Windsor Book Club Reads: The Historian

What a great book for Halloween month!

 

I LOVED this book and very highly recommend you read it.  Run, don’t walk to your library or local bookstore and pick up a copy.  Right now.  It’s okay, I’ll wait.

 

(Jeapardy theme)

 

Back?  Okay, without too many spoilers, here’s why you should read it and will love it as much as I did:

 

It’s effin’ awesome, man!!!

 

No, seriously. 

 

From the very first sentence on the very first page I was gripped by the story and it didn’t shake me loose until the final word on the final page, and I am left gasping for more.  The book is written from the viewpoint of an unnamed female narrator, a young woman of 18 who finds a book in her historian father’s library and is told a remarkable and at times unbelievable story.  At first, while traveling throughout Europe with her father, the young girl listens to her father’s tale about his university days where he is mysteriously given a rare book, a book whose blank parchment pages encase a disturbing woodcut at its very centre, an image of a dragon with looped tail that has evil ramifications.  Upon showing this book to his advisor (Prof. Rossi), he learns his is not the only book in existence.  Paul (the father) sits enthralled while his advisor tells him a strange and at times wildly unbelievable tale of finding a similar book and beginning to research the history of the Dracula myth and the man who started it all, Vlad III, or Vlad Tepes, or Vlad Dracula or Vlad the Impaler, whichever title you prefer to know him by.  At the end of the tale, Paul is given a packet of letters and maps detailing his advisor’s research.  Saying goodnight, Paul leaves and while walking along the sidewalk outside his advisor’s office, he senses some oddity in the atmosphere, but dismisses it.  The next morning, his advisor has disappeared, leaving behind a pool of blood, a missing dragon book, and many, many unanswered questions.

 

On the hunt for those answers, Paul follows in Prof. Rossi’s footsteps, continuing his research in the hopes of locating his beloved friend.  He soon meets fellow grad student Helen, who turns out to be Rossi’s daughter from a brief affair in Romania and the two work in tandem to unravel this mystery, traveling to wonderfully remote locales in Cold War Europe, places like Budapest, Istanbul, Romania, and Bulgaria, all on the trail of a man who lived in the 15^th century and who they fear may still be alive these many centuries later for all  of their research leads to the belief that vampires still exist today and the greatest one of them all, Vlad himself, is somewhere in Europe.

 

It is a remarkable story for this young girl to hear, and more remarkable yet when the tale barely begun, her father disappears himself, leaving behind a packet of letters for his daughter, further explaining his past and her parentage and laying the groundwork for her own research into the legend of Vlad Dracula in the hopes of finding her beloved father.

 

A beautifully written book in near complete epistolary form, the tale unfolds before you, the reader, as if you were that unnamed 18 year old girl, listening to this most amazing story.  The historical and geographic descriptions are breathtaking and you can imagine yourself walking beside Paul, experiencing his discoveries and travels first-hand.  And throughout it all is the mystery:  what happened to Prof. Rossi?  What has happened to Paul?  And the young girl, who upon first reading about her father’s encounter with Helen Rossi gasps “Helen, that was my mother’s name….”  And so the mystery thickens: is Helen her mother?  What has happened to her?  For she has been raised by only her father and a housekeeper most of her life.  Dun dun da.

 

This brief synopsis barely does justice to the intricacies and plot twists contained in this powerhouse of a novel, all of which is handled by a master of the written word.  Elizabeth Kostova truly has an amazing talent as both a writer and more importantly a storyteller.  She captures the nuance of the oral tradition of storytelling perfectly in her use of letters to tell her tale for you, the reader, are given the impression Paul is speaking directly to you, and not that you are merely reading a bunch of dusty old letters.  Truly remarkable! (I know I’ve used that word a lot, but I can’t help gushing, I loved this book so much!)  Quite frankly I am enamored of Ms Kostova and can’t wait to read her second book, The Swan Thieves as I trust it will be just as captivating as The Historian was.

 

Read it.  Do.

Now, turning to what my fellow book clubbers had to say:  Reviews were mixed on this book.  Some loved it as I did, others hated it and didn’t bother to finish reading it.  Reasons for the dislike?  There was simply no character development in the novel and readers could not get into or like any of the characters.  Lacking an emotional connection made for some pretty dry reading.  Others disliked the vampirism and occult subject matter, either for religious reasons or that such tales just were not their cup of tea.  Many readers did enjoy the historical detail of the novel, and the references to actual persons (like Vlad), places (like Saint Matthieu’s Monastery in France) and events (like the clashes between Christians and Muslims during the days of the Ottoman Empire).  Kostova clearly did her homework and enriched her tale accordingly.

 

Till next time, happy reading!

L J

 

TBR = 22

WPL = 28

L Reads Alex Cross #7: Violets Are Blue

Poor Alex Cross, he just can never catch a break.  Following on the heels of Roses are Red, which introduced The Mastermind, a particularly vicious psychopathic serial killer, Violets are Blue opens with the villain hot on Cross’ tale, out to destroy Cross and everything he holds dear.

 

In the midst of dodging The Mastermind’s disturbing phone calls, and trying to keep family and friends safe, Cross must uncover the murderers behind a series of gruesome and chilling vampire murders that span both East and West coasts and a dozen years. 

 

Added to all this is the conclusion Cross eventually reaches of The Mastermind being a close, dear and trusted friend and co-worker.  Betrayal is but one emotion Cross must overcome.

In typical Patterson style, the book jumps from plot to plot, mixing in a bunch of memories of characters, criminals and crimes from the previous six books.  I think I’m finally getting the essence of these novels, in that they’re meant to be Cross’ memoirs of the cases he’s worked, and so they read a little bit like the meanderings of the mind, jumping from subject to subject … or perhaps that’s too deep an analysis of what are nothing more than poorly written books.  I hope for better when I read an Alex Cross, and so I search long and hard for it amongst the cheesiness of Patterson’s phraseology.

 

Violets are Blue was, for me, the worst Cross book yet.  It was a boring read, one I struggled to get through.  The crimes and criminals lacked the usual thrill-ride I associate with the Cross books, making lackluster writing even more difficult to stomach.  The book does end however with Cross’ decision to finally give up police work.  Will he?  Won’t he?  What will the next book be about if Cross is no longer a detective?  It’s this kind of investment I now have in the character that will keep me reading, mores the pity. 

 

Till next time, happy reading!

L J

 

TBR = 22

WPL = 27

Windsor Book Club Reads: The Hunger Games

Okay, so there has been a lot of buzz about this book, the first of a trilogy set in a dystopian future where North America ceases to exist and people now live in a country called Panem that is divided up between the Capital (a glittering city where the rulers of Panem live along with the haves) and twelve districts populated by the have nots, with poverty increasing along with the district number.  The general consensus seems to be that you either love or hate this book.  While it did start off extremely slowly for me (I’m getting a little tired of the dystopian future currently being portrayed in YA books and animated movies), by the second half of the novel, I was so caught up in the story it was very difficult to put down.

 

Initially we are introduced to 17-year old Katniss who lives in the Seam in District Twelve with her mother and younger sister, Prim.  Her father having died in a mine explosion five years ago, Katniss is left with the responsibility of feeding the family as her mother sank into a pit of abject grief, unable to look after her daughters.

 

District Twelve is one of the poorest districts, and so Katniss must sneak off to the woods everyday to hunt and forage for food, an activity that is punishable by death, but since there is very little food to go around and Katniss is able to trade her daily catch with the Peacekeepers of the District, her illegal actions are overlooked. 

 

There are hints of George Orwell’s 1984 and other books of that ilk in The Hunger Games, in that the citizens are monitored on a regular basis and must always guard their speech for subversive thought and behaviour is quickly stamped out with death.  Indeed, Katniss explains a district uprising or rebellion resulted in an entire district (thirteen) being irradiated, resulting in the annual Hunger Games, a fight to the death competition where the Capital pits two tributes (a boy and a girl) from each district against each other.  The victor returns home to great fame and fortune, including the ability to feed their families for a lifetime.  These Games are the Capital’s way of keeping the districts obedient and submissive.

 

Katniss, of course, is District Twelve’s female tribute, and once she reaches the Capital and the games arena, this book really takes off.  Its fast-paced action and compelling characters kept me turning the pages right up to the very end, and left me hungry for the second book in the series, which I promptly placed on hold at the public library.  The Hunger Games is an excellent YA novel that will appeal to adults as well as teenagers. 

 

What my fellow bookclubbers thought: It was unanimous this time, everyone loved the book, though some thought Katniss left a lot to be desired as a main character, being rather deeply flawed.  But sometimes those are the best characters to read about, particularly if they’re given a decent arc and grow and change significantly.  We’ll have to see how the rest of the trilogy plays out to see if she is redeemable or not.

 

The subject of kids killing kids really hung up some readers, but considering the escalating violence on the street between teenage gangs and even in urban high schools, Collins’ plot wasn’t too unrealistic to consider.  Still rather disturbing though. 

 

All in all it was deemed The Hunger Games was a pretty decent read.

 

Till next time, happy reading!

L J

 

TBR = 22

WPL = 26