However, it is possible to foreground other significant features of the novels, specifically the ways in which both authors punctuate their bildungsromans with narrative landscapes, or passages depicting scenes of nature using various painterly techniques. Flaxman's notion of Victorian word-painting, or "visually oriented descriptions whose techniques emulate pictorial methods," lends itself well to this analysis 9. As Flaxman suggests, close readings of these descriptive passages and their effect on the protagonists reveal more than stylistic similarities in the word-paintings of Victorian and Modernist novels. There is in fact a close correlation between the natural and spiritual landscapes in Jane Eyre and Wide Sargasso Sea.
Come to Me by Paula Rego. Jane Eyre in later life being called for by the blind Mr Rochester. Courtesy of Marlborough Fine Art Sarah Waters I first read Jane Eyre as a teenager, but have returned to it many times since; it is one of those novels that, with each rereading, only seems to grow richer.
My favourite lines come just over halfway through, when Jane is engaged in one of her many wrangles with the teasing Mr Rochester.
The novel touches not one responsive note in me, but a whole sequence of them, each quite distinct. But the novel entrances me, literally — there are any number of passages that induce a submission in me that goes beyond critical appreciation: But Mrs Winterson, my mother, must have been well read at one time because she decided to read Jane Eyre to me when I was seven.
Jane Eyre was deemed suitable because it has a minister in it, St John Rivers, who is keen on missionary work. Only years later, reading it for myself, did I discover what she had done.
It was an invaluable lesson for a writer; no story is the final one. Margaret Drabble I remember being gripped by two aspects when I first read Jane Eyre at the age of 10 or 11 — the horrible school at Lowood and the mad woman in the attic. The Lowood episode is the most frightening boarding school story ever written, and, of course, all children, me included, think they are friendless, persecuted and despised, and identify with the poor orphan.
As an adolescent, I suppose I became more interested in the love affair, though by then I had read Wuthering Heights and much preferred Heathcliff to Rochester, and the fairytale wish-fulfilment elements in Jane Eyre I already found annoying and disturbing.
On rereading in old age, I now find the arch, self-righteous and implausible dialogues between Jane and Rochester boring: Maybe I prefer tragedy to romance. Also, I do now see more clearly why she shocked her contemporaries so much: Jane does not even attempt to hide her greed and need for love.
It is painful to read of her longings, and even more painful to know they were never to be satisfied. Esther Freud I was 14 or 15 and living on the top floor of a communal house in a small village in Sussex when I first read Jane Eyre.
I had a bedroom with a balcony that looked out over a large terraced garden, and I used to lean over it and see if I could catch sight of the current object of my affections, a married man who lived on the ground floor, with whom I was carrying on a romance of epic proportions, fuelled only by an occasional glance in my direction, the offer of a lift to the next village and, once, the soulful handing over of a flower.
It thrills me, as it must have thrilled readers inhow their talk transcends convention — cutting through politeness, forcing an intimacy that leaves them reeling, altered.
He still has hold of her hand. Handsome Mr Rochester with his gothic dash and flair, plain Jane with her habit of lurking in window seats; it was an archetype of one kind of love affair, and in its way more sympathetic than the more glamorous coupling of Heathcliff and Cathy. More sympathetic because more encouraging to an adolescent regardless of their gender with low self-esteem.
Then there was the mad woman in the attic.
I expect I saw a film version too, which would have reinforced all these impressions. Although I still feel embarrassed to have arrived at the table too late, I comfort myself by thinking that at least I was more or less ready for it.
The central tension between actualities and make-believe anticipates the tragic plea at the end of Villette:Jane Eyre unsettled views as to how women should act and behave, suggesting, in Lady Eastlake’s eyes, almost an overthrowing of social order. Unlike the long-suffering heroines in Charlotte Brontë’s early writings, who pine away for the dashing, promiscuous Duke of .
This essay is Part I of the author's "Painting with Words: Natural and Spiritual Landscapes in Jane Eyre and Wide Sargasso Sea.". any critics have compared Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre to Jean Rhys's Wide Sargasso Sea in terms of their complicity with or critique of imperialism, their representations of subalterity, or their feminist agendas.
These important political, racial, and social. In Jane Eyre, marriage is about a combination of three things: the dynamic trio of compatibility, passion, and ethics. This novels shows us that marriage only works between like-minded individuals with similar attitudes and outlooks on life.
Inequalities of class background or financial situation.
Jane Eyre. The development of Jane Eyre’s character is central to the novel. From the beginning, Jane possesses a sense of her self-worth and dignity, a commitment to justice and principle, a trust in God, and a passionate disposition.
Jane Eyre is shut in the red room when, for the first time in her life, she allows her temper to erupt. Jane is told “God will strike you dead in the midst of one of your tantrums”.
She is so. Mar 18, · Watch video · After a bleak childhood, Jane Eyre goes out into the world to become a governess. As she lives happily in her new position at Thornfield Hall, she meets the dark, cold, and abrupt master of the house, Mr.