A tribute to reading, the nineteenth century, and Charlotte Bronte...

I have just realized (as I am in one now) that I go through passionate phases in which I wish things different than they are, or perhaps I just really enjoy a particular subject or situation and wish to be enlightened or a part of it. A magnificent, yet horrifying discovery I made just yesterday is this: I was not made to live and exist in the twenty first century, but rather in the nineteenth! And what a somber realization this was. I shall suffer much from the fact that I surely cannot change the time period designated to me, though I am also quite sure that after much consideration and practical thinking I would not want to anyway- which does give me considerable consolation. The reason for my strange and sudden desire for change comes from excessive reading (a task I see as very necessary for any girl's cultivation; a view I share with a rather well known Mr. Darcy, I believe.) There is one novel in particular which is to blame for my present state however(though I daresay, many have the power to overtake me!) which I have been engulfed, rather drowned in, these past couple of days and even so this very day!

Jane Eyre.

The detailed and intense manner in which the passion and depth of each character and situation is captured and communicated amazes me! Not only could I never hope to find the words to express such a deep emotion, I daresay I could hardly recognize it, let alone translate it! I feel as though the very beings, the very surroundings, the very sounds; voices are alive and being played out in front of me as I read. I am a fellow student at Lowood, a majestic guest at Thornfield, and now perhaps a pupil in the Morton Girl's School. How real it all seems! I am right there feeling, experiencing it all. So then when I put the book down, I cannot help but long for the beautiful scenery, the refined people, and the elaborate language of that time.

I'm reminded of a piece from the movie Ever After:
Henry: How do you do it?
Danielle: What?
Henry: Live each day with this kind of passion. Don't you find it exhausting?

That is precisely my question for Miss Jane Eyre, rather Miss Charlotte Bronte: inventor of Miss Jane Erye, though I suppose my question would be worded a bit differently changing to fit the scheme of writing. The depth of character, and engagement of her words quite astound and delight me! I assure you, she has my utmost admiration and respect.

Though I do suppose, reader, that unless you have read wonderful works of literature as this one, and are as stimulated by them as I, (my dear sister being very much in this category, for it was her who encouraged and inspired me to read this very novel, Jane Erye and her who set the standard so high in my mind; which in actually reading the book, it has quite exceeded my expectations!) you must find all of this mere nonsense and a waste of time. If this be the case, I must apologize for my way of rambling on so. And do let me stop you promptly for I fear the rest of this post is in quite the same fashion and will not suit your boring disposition. But let me leave you with a favorite quote of mine...


The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.

-Jane Austen

Now I will continue my thoughts...
Reading. My father told me that reading was the best way to learn, which I love. I agree, and shall continue to follow that advice for the rest of my life. And now I must highly encourage you to do the same.

Along with Miss Bronte, some other sensational, classic, female authors who I have highly benefited from and recommend, include Jane Austen, Louisa May Alcott, Gene Stratton-Porter etc. etc.

And now I must thank you for enduring my thoughts and indulging my aspirations by reading my observations on the subjects I have written. I really would love to hear your thoughts on any and/or all of these subjects. I hope there are people out there somewhere that share my joy in reading a good book!

For the present I am not a resident of this year, nor this life... rather I am far in the past reliving the days of a certain Jane Erye... and who knows where future stories may take me... the possibilities are endless.