Charlotte Bronte’s “Jane Eyre”

After recently reading Emily Bronte’s brilliant novel, “Wuthering Heights” I could not resist the urge to pick up and read Charlotte Bronte’s, “Jane Eyre.” It was hopeless, like trying to resist a second cold beer on a hot summer day. I had naturally heard a lot of great things about the book. One of my best and oldest friend’s is an expert and scholar on the works of the Bronte sisters and has had numerous papers published about their work.

What I did not expect was a book as great as “Wuthering Heights.” My God, was I wrong. Charlotte’s Bronte’s “Jane Eyre” is not only as brilliant as her sister’s book, but is every bit the masterpiece and in all honesty, I liked it even more and I seriously loved “Wuthering Heights.” Like her sister’s book, it stands tall and erect beside the masterful works of Byron, Shakespeare, Twain, Dickens, Conrad, Hemingway, Elliot, and Yeats. It is a work of pure genius.

It is a gripping story about a young lady’s struggle to find equality and independence over her own mind and body and not be assigned a place in life based solely on her lack of beauty and wealth. It is a story with an endless amount of unforgettable characters. Despite however small a role a character has in the book, his or her unique characteristics make a lasting impression on the reader.

The writing is sublime and, at times like while I was reading “Wuthering Heights” I had to put the novel down and simply marvel at its brilliance. Ms. Bronte’s descriptions of landscapes, structures, animals, and people are perfectly presented and introduced just at the right moment. Her descriptions are not as ponderous and elongated like in the works of Lawrence but just as effective if not more so.

This is literature at its very best. My only regret is that it took me so long to finally read and digest the genius of these magnificent writers.

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