Book 16 - Wide Sargasso Sea

Ok, so I didn't read Wide Sargasso Sea this week, and in fact haven't read it since 1999. But the last text of Regarding Jane Eyre, a series of letters by the author Jean Rhys, took me right back to where I started - my year 12 HSC class where we studied both Jane Eyre and Rhys' revisionist novel. It may not have impressed me as deeply as Jane Eyre, but most of it came flooding back after reading these letters. Apologies in advance for errors in plot or theme - as I said, it has been 9 years and unfortunately my copy of the novel is at my parent's house 5 hours from here.

A native of the West Indies and a product of the 20th century, JeanRhys objected strongly to Bronte's portrayal of Rochester's first wife as the mad Creole woman in the attic. It took her years to craft her response: a story of a sensual yet innocent woman named Antoinette Bertha and a suspicious young man who falls violently in love. In the lush and humid tropics lust and Obeah magic clash violently with Victorian prejudice and colonialism. The way I'm describing it makes it sound like a bodice-ripper!

Actually it's quite disturbing - Rochester projects all his inner conflict with his intense passion and sensuality onto Antoinette. His Victorian sensibilities could not handle a sexually responsive wife - as Bronte has Rochester suggest in Jane Eyre, Bertha's "gross sensuality" must have been early symptom of true madness. Combine that with her tainted Creole blood, and Rochester instantly believes the first poisonous story he hears of madness in the family.

What follows is a spiral of cruelty, lust and betrayal where Rochester gradually strips Antoinette of her identity - her friends, her country, her name, until she becomes poor mad Bertha, trapped in an English attic. She can only reassert her identity by burning down Thornton Hall and throwing herself to her death. The question hovers above the text - was Antoinette/Bertha truly prone to madness, or did Rochester drive her to it?

Trust me when I say that you will never look at Rochester in quite the same light again. Don't read this if you object to your heros having feet of clay. It's an intense read ripe with violence and sensuality. One image from the text still stays with me, nine years after reading Wide Sargasso Sea - the image of a moth, drawn to the light and heat of a candle that in a moment of ecstasy will prove to be its doom.

Book 15 - Regarding Jane Eyre

More Jane Eyre folks! I promise I am almost done with the topic.

Regarding Jane Eyre is a collection of writers' responses to Jane Eyre. It's an eclectic little collection, containing excerpts from various biographies on Bronte, some literary criticism, and some fictional writing as well. It's an Australian publication edited by Susan Geason, and several of the texts had a distinctly Australian flavour.

Here's a quick rundown of what's included: an excerpt from the Bronte biographies of Gaskell and Lyndall Gordon; an article on what boarding school was really like at the time (the stories are chilling), a psychologist's analysis of the child abuse and recovery that Jane experienced, questions about where Jane's rage went after Lowood; Amy Witting writing the ongoing story of a very minor character; and Morag Fraser relating the complex relationships of fathers and lovers to her own modern family. I will talk about the other three texts in a little depth as they had more of an impact.

My favourite article was janeyre@window by Carmel Bird (click the title to read the full text online, it's worth it). She has terrific fun identifying all the recurring symbolic motifs within the text - from red, fire and windows to Jane's inherent materialism revealed in an ongoing obsession with describing the furniture of a room. I love recurring motifs and teasing out their possible significance, it's what draws me to poetry as well.

Bird envisioned a cd-rom with a hypertext network of links between all these themes - clicking on "window" in the text would take you to all the other references to window etc. This was probably reasonably groundbreaking, given that it was written in 1996 in the early days of the web revolution. It's certainly a great idea and if it's been done I would like to know about it.

The strangest text was Jean Bedford's Crown me with Roses Pastiche, a somewhat bizarre modern re-imagining of the story where Gateshead is a commune, Lowood is an abusive cult and Thornfield a solitary outback homestead. Let's just say that the ending is nowhere near as positive as in the original text!

The last text, a series of letters by Jean Rhys, actually leads me to her novel Wide Sargasso Sea, which I think deserves an entirely separate review. So sorry, you will have to put up with Jane Eyre for one more post!

My final take on Regarding Jane Eyre: overall I felt there was a bit of an obsession with Jane's childhood and the boarding school, and Rochester suffered significantly under the withering gaze of modern feminism. But nevertheless it is quite a refreshing way to dig deeper into a text without having to resort to the traditional and not always reader-friendly literary criticism.

Book 14 - Villette

Well I just finished Charlotte Bronte's Villette and I was horribly dismayed by the ambiguous ending. You don't need to read Charlotte Bronte's biography to know that she had a difficult life - it comes through in the stoic manner of her characters. Lucy, like Jane, suffers from difficult circumstances and certainly does not lead a smooth life.

Lucy Snowe is an essentially penniless and friendless young woman (sound familiar?) who takes it into her head to travel to France with no secure situation. With determination and a dash of luck she secures a place teaching English in a French boarding school. As her name symbolically uggests, Lucy is a fairly detached and observant woman who depicts the character of those around her with honesty, wit and accuracy. She observes the flirtations and romances of her friends and acquaintances but does not actively seek to participate, nor would she announce her feelings to those she is drawn to.

Despite her self-effacing ways, Lucy catches the attention of the fiery and volatile Monseur Emmanuel, Professor of Literature. He claims to see beyond her modest facade and accuses her of being a passionate and wiley woman. The strange relationship that grows between the two is highly compelling - M. Emmanuel's voluble lectures and flamboyant actions are met by Lucy's innate stubbornness and pointed barbs. It is not a conventional relationship - at first it appears the two truly irritate each other, and even so they appear to be more friends than lovers for most of the book.

I mentioned that Lucy is a stoic and Villette reflects the author's sufferings. Certainly Lucy is more pragmatic than optimistic. When commenting on the courtship of two friends, Dr John and Paulina, she observes that some such as these are born to live fortunate and blessed lives, where she is not. I felt a sort of pity for this character who did not expect much for her life beyond being a single teacher and paying her way. This refrain reoccurs throughout the book and heightened the suspense considerably for the last series of events - there could be no guarentee of the conventional "happy ending".

A bit of a spoiler alert here for those who may want to read the book. I really want to discuss the ending because it affected me signficantly. Eventually the relationship between Lucy and M. Emmanuel deepends into love, but many obstacles are placed in their way - from financial circumstances to family objections and even religious issues (Protestant vs Catholic). Lucy is even led to temporarily believe that he is betrothed to another. Just as it all comes through Emmanuel's friends and family find a way to separate them by sending him off to manage an estate in the West Indies for three years. With all this tension, it seems impossible that it won't resolve in a happy marriage between the two. But alas! in the Epilogue Lucy tells of her three years of waiting which end in a series of wild storms that occur just as M. Emmanuel's ship should be returning. But instead of telling us his fate, she writes:

"Here pause: pause at once. There is enough said. Trouble no quiet, kind heart; leave sunny imagines hope....Let them picutre union and a happy succeeding life."

Aaagghhh! I would rather be told and have Lucy's gloomy predictions on her life confirmed than be left hanging like that. To invest so much in characters and then be deprived of a resolution is incredibly frustrating. How terribly postmodern - 100 years before that particular "ism" existed. But as I said, I really feel that the disappointment that Lucy - and the reader - suffers speaks a great deal of the kind of life that Bronte led. No doubt I will have more on that later if I manage to get through her biography!

Book 12 - Jane Eyre

Now I've been diverted down the classics path. A friend lent me the latest BBC production of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, which reminded me of the deep affection I developed for this book while studying it for my HSC. So down off the bookshelf it came, and I devoured it in a day or two. It made me realise again how great a difference there is between merely reading a book and actually studying it. Despite having last read it nearly 10 years ago, so much was familiar to me - not just plot and character but also themes, significant quotes, the symbolism of locations and visual cues, even structural elements and facts relating to the author's life. There are few books that I know so thoroughly, and of them this is perhaps my favourite. I must also give my heartfelt thanks to my English teacher, who really did inspire in me a love (or at least healthy respect) for all of the texts we studied.

So - back to Jane Eyre. I'll start by saying don't just read my pathetic summary - go and read it!

Jane Eyre is an orphan, perceived to be a wild and passionate child by the relatives who eventually cast her into a cold and heartless charity boarding school. Trust me, this is probably one of the most horrible descriptions of what a boarding school can be. She somehow emerges from it as a strong-willed yet quiet woman who takes a post at Thornfield Hall as governess to Adele, ward of Edward Rochester. Rochester is a cynical and abrupt man embittered by a secret past, yet he finds himself drawn to Jane's integrity and quiet determination. He proposes to her, but unfolding events force Jane to chose between her passionate love and her personal integrity and morals.

Jane narrates the story, and she truly is a unique individual - passionate yet retiring, fiery yet restrained. Bronte has a genius for dialogue - the repartee between Jane and Rochester positively zings with wit and unsaid feeling. I could read those conversations again and again. The BBC miniseries does a fair job of bringing this across, although it seems to miss some of my favourite passages in the book. The plot has a couple of improbable moments but these are more than made up for by the richness of the narrative. Watch for the clever use of symbolism - the interaction of the elements (air, fire, ice, earth), names of locations and people, Jane's fey dreams. As I mentioned earlier, this book has such depth that it can be read again and again while retaining its freshness and providing something new each time. I strongly recommend you read it as one of the more unique love stories ever written.