Horror or Primitive Duality?

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll 

and Mr. Hyde  

by Robert Louis Stevenson

“I learned to recognise the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both.”   ― Robert Louis Stevenson, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde has a lot of literary legends associated with it, as would seem appropriate for such a bizarre narrative. One claims that Stevenson had nightmares about the story's gory parts at initially. Another claims that the hasty author burned the first complete draft in response to his wife's criticism. Both myths might not be true. The only thing that is known is that Stevenson's work masterfully caught the obvious paradoxes of Victorian society and illustrated the terrible results of hiding man's innate animal desires beneath the rigid concepts of "decency." This duality preceded the results of Freudian and Jungian studies of the subsequent century; however they provided an interesting addition to the literature of the doppelganger. A horrifying window into the murky recesses of the psyche is provided by Jekyll and Hyde.

This is one of those favorites of which it seems everyone knows the story even though they may only have seen one of the film adaptations of the original book.  It is their loss for the book is a minor masterpiece and the best offerings of Hollywood (my favorite is the 1941 version with Spencer Tracy but Frederic March, 1931, is a close second) wander far from the text of the book, particularly with the addition of a love interest for the good Dr. Jekyll that just is not there.  That aside, the book is high Victorian speculation about the nature of evil and man's ability to create life or at least modify it.  It reminds me of Well's The Island of Dr. Moreau, published a decade later, except Stevenson is a bit more of a romantic.  It also provides an example for the theories of Dr. Freud, who was not on the scene when Stevenson was creating his short novel.  There are many explanations for the dual personalities presented by Stevenson.  I like to think of it as a variation of the doppelganger literature of which Poe's William Wilson and Dostoevsky's The Double are classic examples.  Stevenson's story and character has entered our literary mind and vocabulary and was popular from the beginning with good reason.  

Stevenson was well-liked in his day, but writers in the early 20th century criticized him for penning profit-driven commercial fiction. Since then, he has gained recognition as one of the greatest writers of English literature. This is one of his best stories and a favorite of mine.

Honoring Christmas

A Christmas Carol 

by Charles Dickens

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.”  ― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol




The Book of Proverbs includes this admonition: " The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding." (Proverbs 4:7)
By the final page of A Christmas Carol Ebenezer Scrooge has arrived at that place in his life with the help of the ghost of his former partner Marley and several spirits. These spirits take Scrooge on tours of his past to show him where he went wrong, of the present to introduce him to the joy of the holiday season, and of the future to warn him of what may happen unless he changes. Scrooge learns his lesson well and is transformed into a man with a conscience.

You probably know the story that begins on Christmas Eve: When Scrooge terrorizes his clerk, angrily dismisses two gentlemen collecting for the poor and repulses his nephew, Fred, who invites him to Christmas dinner. At home that evening, Scrooge is confronted by the ghost of his dead partner, Jacob Marley, who warns him against purely materialistic pursuits and tells him that he will be visited in the night by three spirits.

The first spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Past, gives Scrooge a series of visions of his childhood and early manhood. Scrooge sees himself as a neglected child at school, then as an apprentice of Mr. Fezziwig, enjoying warm festivities on Christmas Eve, and finally as a prospering entrepreneur whose fiancée breaks their engagement because Scrooge loves money more than he loves her. The second spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Present, takes Scrooge out onto the streets on Christmas morning to see many happy families and, in particular, the love and warmth of Bob Cratchit’s home. Scrooge is concerned about their crippled child, Tiny Tim, and is informed that Tim will not live to see another Christmas unless circumstances change. Finally, the spirit deposits Scrooge into Fred’s home, where Scrooge sees good friends enjoying one another’s company and is reluctant to depart when the ghost tells him it is time to move on.

The final spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, is shrouded in black, with only a hand showing. It first takes Scrooge to the stock exchange, he then witnesses a scene in a junk shop as two women and a man bring in objects plundered from the dead man’s house, even from the death bed, while his body was still there. The spirit then shows Scrooge his stripped bed, with his own body upon it, in his empty house. Upon asking whether anyone will feel emotion at his death, he sees a couple who owe him money; they are relieved and hope that their debt will be transferred to a less relentless creditor. Scrooge has another glimpse of the future: It is the Cratchit home, with Bob Cratchit as a broken man because of the death of Tiny Tim. As Scrooge has one final glimpse of the future—that of his own grave—he pleads with the ghost to assure him that the visions are of what may be, not what will be. It is a new Scrooge who appears to the world upon awakening from this final visit.

Although it was published in 1843, A Christmas Carol remains popular. Although the character of Scrooge is Victorian, his story highlights the importance of being kind, compassionate, and generous to others. These traits are timeless. No matter what era you live in, transforming your character to become a better person is just as important today as it was then. It remains relevant today because readers can identify with its portrayal of Christmas. Being surrounded by family and food, as we see in the Cratchits' celebration of Christmas in Stave Three, is very similar to how the holiday is celebrated today. Very little has changed, making it possible for modern audiences to relate to Dickens' portrayal of Christmas.

The Force of Destiny

Armadale 

by Wilkie Collins

“The only hope I have left for you hangs on a great doubt - the doubt whether we are, or are not, the masters of our own destinies. It may be that mortal free-will can conquer mortal fate; and that going, as we all do, inevitably to death, we go inevitably to nothing that is before death.”  ― Wilkie Collins, Armadale

Armadale, Wilkie Collins’s longest novel and like another of his popular novels, The Moonstone, the narrative comprises a series of testimonies and accounts (such as from characters’ diaries and letters) which gradually shed light on the mystery. One interesting note: the heading of Chapter VII is "The Plot Thickens". I do not know if that was the first use of that phrase (I doubt it) but it is striking that Collins would use it for a chapter heading.

In 1832, Allan Armadale confesses on his deathbed to murder: his clerk, Fergus Ingleby, stole his name and married Jane Blanchard, the woman Allan loved. Pursuing the couple on board a ship, Allan locked Fergus in a cabin and left him to drown when the ship was wrecked. Allan later travelled to the West Indies where he married a creole woman and had a son.
After this opening the story moves to 1851, and the murderer’s son has adopted the name Ozias Midwinter, while the drowned Fergus Ingleby’s has been brought up under the name Allan Armadale – and with it, has inherited Fergus’ property, the estate of Thorpe Ambrose. Ozias learns the truth about his father’s crime – that he murdered his friend’s father – while on a sailing trip with Fergus and Jane’s son, Allan Armadale. He destroys the letter containing Allan Armadale Senior’s confession, and vows to keep the secret from his friend.

Lydia Gwilt, the former maid to Jane Blanchard (Allan’s father), sets her sights on marrying Allan for his money. Both Ozias Midwinter and Allan Armadale end up falling for Lydia, but her plan to marry Armadale is scuppered when her cynical motives are uncovered. However the resourceful Lydia, having learned the secret that Midwinter’s real name is also Allan Armadale, plans to marry him under his real name, get the other Allan Armadale out of the way, and then use the marriage certificate as legal proof of her entitlement to the Armadale estate. This complex plot continues as Lydia marries Midwinter, concealing her checkered past from him but the denouement will have to await your reading pleasure for this reader must vow not to spoil that delight.

Armadale is unusual among Wilkie Collins’s sensation novels because it demonstrates a detailed interest in human psychology, with dreams cropping up at numerous points in the novel, and Collins taking time to explore what John Sutherland, in The Longman Companion to Victorian Fiction, calls ‘the psychology of crime’. Granted, the dreams are used as plot devices rather than as a sort of proto-stream-of-consciousness designed to shed light on Allan Armadale’s character; but Collins’s use of the dreams, and Midwinter’s analysis of their significance as premonitions, adds another psychological layer to this complex novel. The real triumph of Armadale is Collins’s portrayal of Lydia Gwilt, whose surname suggests ‘guilt’ (and ‘gilt’, evoking her gold-digging ambitions), but also, through a twist, ‘will’, foregrounding her own independent agency and, it must be said, her perseverance and cunning. This is a great read which I would recommend to lovers of Dickens or Thackeray.

Taking Charge of Her Life

Miss Mackenzie 
by Anthony Trollope




“The habit of reading is the only enjoyment in which there is no alloy; it lasts when all other pleasures fade.”   ― Anthony Trollope

A single woman of a certain age entertains suitors and encounters financial and other interesting issues in this engaging novel by Anthony Trollope. I recently discovered this when our book group selected  Miss Mackenzie as our first novel of the new year.

Margaret Mackenzie has spent her life until the age of 35 nursing her father and brother, both of whom have lived restricted and selfish lives as minor civil servants. The death of her brother leaves her with a comfortable fortune and she decides to use it to live more enjoyably and, if possible, get married. She takes charge of one of her nieces and, leaving London, moves to the spa of Littlebath, thus setting up the one satisfying and useful relationship in the book and escaping her terrible sister-in-law. Littlebath is a typical small community with single ladies with adequate incomes, many of whom she meets at the social events arranged by the evangelical clergyman Mr Stumfold and his domineering wife. Two of the ladies – the genteel and timid Stumfoldian Miss Baker, and the raffish and amusing anti-Stumfoldian Miss Todd – present positive models of single life which nonetheless do not attract Miss Mackenzie.

Three suitors emerge for Margaret and her money, none particularly attractive: her cousin John Ball, an undeniable gentleman but older, dreary, materialistic and attached to a disastrously dire mother (old Lady Ball);  Tom’s partner, Samuel Rubb, who is amusing, good-looking and intelligent, but lower-middle-class and not very scrupulous;  and a Stumfoldian curate, Mr Maguire.  Maguire is one of Trollope’s stereotyped evangelicals -- hypocritical, slimy and physically very off-putting.  In the course of time all three make offers of marriage and Margaret indecisively rejects all three.

Margaret encounters financial setbacks, but her mercenary suitors do not disappear. Rubb has deceived her financially but likes her personally and would stand by her. Maguire is convinced that John Ball has cheated Margaret, and thus destroyed his own chances of wealth, and starts a gutter-press campaign against him. John realizes that he is actually fond of Margaret, and gradually finds the will to resist his mother’s hostility to her. Despite her initial rejection of all three Margaret appears to consider each of them until the denouement when she makes a momentous decision.

She is helped by a rather glamorous upper-class cousin who appears from Scotland and this allows Trollope to introduce a truly appalling bazaar attended by a group of ladies from the Palliser and Barsetshire novels, perhaps to provide an upper-class counterpart to a pretentious middle-class dinner at Tom’s earlier.

While many of the characters are unpleasant and petty-minded Miss Mackenzie has sufficient good humor and common sense to buoy the reader. While she started her new life eager for social contacts and simple pleasures, these modest ambitions are largely disappointed. The novel, thankfully, is not merely a study of the oppressiveness of the conditions of life of women in the eighteen-sixties, and of the restrictiveness of class thinking. Rather it is what for this reader was a typical Trollope novel; filled with interesting characters and delightful prose. It had been too long since I had read a novel by Anthony Trollope and the enjoyment reminded me why I am always glad when I return to his work.

The Challenge of Love

The Mill on the Floss 
by George Eliot



“In books there were people who were always agreeable or tender, and delighted to do things that made one happy, and who did not show their kindness by finding fault. The world outside the books was not a happy one, Maggie felt: it seemed to be a world where people behaved the best to those they did not pretend to love and that did not belong to them. And if life had no love in it, what else was there for Maggie? Nothing but poverty and the companionship of her mother’s narrow griefs—perhaps of her father’s heart-cutting childish dependence. There is no hopelessness so sad as that of early youth, when the soul is made up of wants, and has no long memories, no super-added life in the life of others; though we who look on think lightly of such premature despair, as if our vision of the future lightened the blind sufferer’s present.” ― George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss



George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss was published on this day in 1860. What a pleasure it is to read the novels of George Eliot. The sheer intelligence of the author shines on every page. 

In this, her second novel following closely after Adam Bede, she draws on her own experience to create a world of characters surrounding her hero & heroine, Tom and Maggie Tulliver.  The story develops at a leisurely pace with the first two books devoted to the childhood of Maggie and Tom.  Early in Book I, after having argued bitterly over the death of some pet rabbits, Tom and Maggie make up by going fishing on the Floss. They feel that the morning, the river and their childhood will last forever, the Eagle swooping in the sky and the Great Ash anchoring the bank. Yes and no, says Eliot's narrator as she relates here:

"Life did change for Tom and Maggie; and yet they were not wrong in believing that the thoughts and loves of these first years would always make part of their lives. We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it,—if it were not the earth where the same flowers come up again every spring that we used to gather with our tiny fingers as we sat lisping to ourselves on the grass; the same hips and haws on the autumn's hedgerows; the same redbreasts that we used to call “God's birds,” because they did no harm to the precious crops. What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known, and loved because it is known?"

Tom goes off to be tutored and Maggie must stay at home, so their lives slowly diverge until in subsequent books, as their father's world disintegrates in debt, they are found on opposite sides with both their filial love and love of "the earth" tested again and again. One of the most impressive aspects of the novel is the complexity of these characters as created by Eliot. Tom distinguishes himself at the trading firm of his Uncle Deane and matures into a confident and courageous young man, repaying the debts of his father. Yet, his character is flawed in both his inflexibility and his inability to appreciate the needs of his sister Maggie. Maggie, who is significantly more intelligent than Tom, and self-taught, has developed from a somewhat over-emotional young girl into a sort of Christian ascetic based on her reading of Thomas a Kempis. She is forbidden friendship with Philip Waken, the son of the lawyer who bought her father's mill, and is prevented from developing the potential that is central to her character. The choices she makes define who she is, how she will live, how her community will see her, and in some cases, how those around her will live. The tension between progress and tradition is central in The Mill on the Floss. In many ways, it is embodied in Maggie. The pull she feels between her individual desires and her communal duties is very much a pull between progress and tradition, as those communal duties are highly traditional, and her individual desires are far more suited to a more progressive world.

Though Maggie is deeply intelligent and passionate and has clearly defined desires, she finds fulfilling these desires nearly impossible. The denouement of the novel leads it down the path of the tragic side of life if not true tragedy, but the complexity of the characters and realism of the world in which they live continues to impress.

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Poem for Today

The Caged Skylark

As a dare-gale skylark scanted in a dull cage,

    Man's mounting spirit in his bone-house, mean house, dwells —

    That bird beyond the remembering his free fells;

This in drudgery, day-labouring-out life's age.

Though aloft on turf or perch or poor low stage

    Both sing sometímes the sweetest, sweetest spells,

    Yet both droop deadly sómetimes in their cells

Or wring their barriers in bursts of fear or rage.

Not that the sweet-fowl, song-fowl, needs no rest —

Why, hear him, hear him babble & drop down to his nest,

    But his own nest, wild nest, no prison.

Man's spirit will be flesh-bound, when found at best,

But uncumberèd: meadow-down is not distressed

    For a rainbow footing it nor he for his bónes rísen.

GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS, from Poems by Gerard Manley Hopkins, The Folio Society, 1974.

The 2014 Jane Eyre Read-Along: Week 10, Book Review

The following review represents the final commentary for the Jane Eyre read – along hosted by Maria at A Night's Dream of Books and Brian at Babbling Books.  I would like to thank Maria and Brian   for their questions and contributions.  The insights provided in the weekly discussion questions enriched my experience in rereading this great novel.

Jane Eyre 

by Charlotte Brontë

“I can live alone, if self-respect, and circumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot afford to give.”  ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

This novel continues to be one of my lifetime favorites. I have read it several times before, but this is the first time in the new century.  Many people have commented on reading this novel;  almost one hundred years ago Virginia Woolf wrote about an exhilaration she felt (a feeling which I share) of reading the opening scenes of the novel:
"There is nothing there more perishable than the moor itself, or more subject to the sway of fashion than the "long and lamentable blast."  Nor is this exhilaration short-lived.  It rushes us through the entire volume, without giving us time to think, without letting us lift our eyes from the page.  So intense is our absorption that if some one moves in the room the movement seems to take place not there but up in Yorkshire.  The writer has us by the hand, forces us along her road, makes us see what she sees, never leaves us for a moment or allows us to forget her.  At the end we are steeped through and through with the genius, the vehemence, the indignation of Charlotte Bronte." (Virginia Woolf, The Common Reader, p 160)

Charlotte  submitted Jane Eyre for publication in 1846. It was rejected five times, and then she sent it to Smith, Elder, and Co., her eventual publishers. She sent it with a note that said: "It is better in future to address Mr. Currer Bell, under cover to Miss Brontë, Haworth, Bradford, Yorkshire, as there is a risk of letters otherwise directed not reaching me at present."  They agreed to publish it, and it became a huge success, and, a little more than a century later it became one of my earliest favorites, a novel that I would read and reread my whole life.  I am not sure what my original fascination was although the mystery and sinister nature of the boarding school Jane attended was riveting, and later Thornfield Hall depicted a different world.
  
 The story told by Jane begins as one of her suffering, first under Mrs. Reed who treats her poorly and then at Lowood the boarding school she is sent to.  Yet,  from the beginning Jane develops a strong character and excels in her studies.  She develops friendships with her classmate Helen Burns and her teacher Miss Temple.  Throughout the opening chapters I was impressed with Jane's strength of will, her love of reading, and her attention to her readers.  For as she narrates the story she frequently pauses to share a thought with her dear readers.

This novel has all the aspects of the traditional bildungsroman and that is one of the reasons I enjoyed reading it.  Jane eventually takes position as governess and it is at this point that the novel develops into a Romance for she finds a job working for Mr. Rochester teaching a young French girl, Adele Varens,  at Thornfield Hall. As Jane teaches there a while, she falls in love with Mr. Rochester, and he falls in love with her. Needless to say there are several more changes in her life as she learns of secrets from Mr. Rochester's past and encounters aspects of her own past that impact her in unexpected ways.  The story seems to be one where Jane's fate is unfolding before her and her reader's eyes, but it never grows old as Charlotte Bronte's tale seems to inhabit my being more closely than most others.  This reading impressed upon me the important use of symbols such as colors and the weather that underlined the emotional life of Jane.  From the early example of the "red room" or the continuing motif of rain, these symbols enhance the vividness of the story.  Perhaps it is the complexity of a story that starts out to be a simple romance and expands into a Gothic mystery;  it is surely magical as Charlotte Bronte is able to combine this story of the growth of a young girl with a love story that has Gothic overtones.  Ultimately it is a triumph for the individual will of our young governess-heroine, Jane Eyre.

Jane Eyre Read-along: Week 7

Welcome to the seventh week of 

the 2014 Jane Eyre Read-Along,

brought to you by

A Night's Dream of Books

and Babbling Books!!

Introduction:  "I forgave him all:  yet not in words,"

In this week's reading Rochester has betrayed Jane and wounded her to the core.  But he tries to make amends, to persuade her not to leave him and Thornfield Hall.  That is not to be, but he asks, "Will you forgive me?";  Then Jane shares her thoughts with her dear readers:

"Reader, I forgave him at the moment and on the spot.  There was such deep remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such manly energy in his manner:  and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole look and mien -- I forgave him all:  yet not in words, not outwardly:  only at my heart's core."

This Week's Discussion Questions

for  Chapters 24-28

At several points both Rochester and Jane refer to each other in terms of mythical creatures and magic. Why do you think that they do this?

The questions get harder to answer, in part because our two main characters are harder to decipher.  The use of mythology on Jane's part may stem from her imagination combined with an inability to relate directly to Rochester's situation.  Perhaps that is true of Rochester as well.  They are far apart in class and station, making Mrs. Fairfax's doubts about the match seem very realistic.  Yet, here we have two lovers--at least two proclaiming love for each other--who resort to imaginary beings as referents.  One result of this is the feeling that their relationship is unreal. Perhaps that is the author's intent.


In Chapter 24 when Rochester jokingly compares Jane to a Turkish slave girl Jane becomes indignant and replies sharply to him. Does this say anything about Jane’s personality and the relationship between the two?

For this reader it confirms my belief that Jane is a very strong-willed and independent young woman; albeit a woman who is filled with doubts that manifest in some tentative reactions.  But not here, not when she feels she is demeaned by Rochester's unseemly joking manner.  His inconstant behavior suggests he may have his own doubts about their relationship.  His bravado and joking manner may be his way of hiding his true feelings.


At one point, after gazing at the damaged horse-chestnut tree, Jane gathers apples in the garden and remarks “ I employed myself in dividing the ripe from the unripe” Do you think that there is any significance to this?

Jane seems to be trying to reassure herself that there is something good (ripe) to preserve in her relationship, something on which she might focus.  In the previous paragraph she speaks to the damaged horse-chestnut tree saying,  "You did right to hold fast to each other . . . I think, scathed as you look, there must be a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of that adhesion at the faithful honest roots . . . the time of pleasure and love is over with you:  but you are not desolate: each of you have a comrade to sympathise with him in his decay." Is love and pleasure over for her and Rochester or is this a premonition, reinforced by her dreams (see next question)?


In chapter 25 Jane relates to Rochester several of her dreams. What do you make of them?

In one dream she saw a "dark and gusty night" and while wishing to continue with Rochester, "experienced a strange, regretful consciousness of some barrier dividing us."  As if this is not ominous enough she continues, "I dreamt another dream sir: that Thornfield Hall was a dreary ruin".
These dreams, following the episode in the garden seem to surely foreshadow the events of the Wedding interrupted in the following chapter.  It seems that in spite of Rochester's professions of love and offering his hand in marriage that Jane's world is coming apart, and has been ever since the ominous rending of the great tree at the end of Chapter Twenty-three.


Rochester is revealed to have perpetrated a major deception upon Jane in regards to his first marriage. What does this say about Rochester?

If there were any doubts that Rochester was not to be trusted they have been shattered by this episode.  It is difficult to fathom what he was thinking when he proposed to Jane, knowing that his previous marriage was a possible impediment even though he seems to feel this can somehow be overcome.  He said it best when he told Jane "you must regard me a plotting profligate -- a base and low rake".  Indeed!


What do you think of Jane’s decision to flee from Rochester?

I believe she feels that she has no choice.  She is fleeing from Thornfield and everything that Rochester represents.  The one person in whom she had placed her hope had deceived her and left her life in a shambles.  The question is will she be able to recover from this terrible episode.

Jane Eyre Read-along: Week 6

Welcome to the sixth week of 

the 2014 Jane Eyre Read-Along,

brought to you by

A Night's Dream of Books

and Babbling Books!!

Introduction:  "Jane, will you marry me?"

An emotional encounter between Jane and Rochester in Chapter Twenty-three leads to a surprising request from Rochester:

""Come to my side, Jane, and let us explain and understand one another.'
'I will never again come to your side:  I am torn away now, and cannot return.'
'But, Jane, I summon you as my wife: it is only you I intend to marry.'
I was silent;  I thought he mocked me.
'Come, Jane -- come hither.'
'Your bride stands between us.'
He rose, and with a stride reached me.
'My bride is here,' he said, again drawing me to him, 'because my equal is here, and my likeness.  Jane, will you marry me?"

This Week's Discussion Questions  

for  Chapters 20 - 23

The events of Chapter 20 are very strange, yet Jane does everything Rochester asks her to do, and continues to trust him, for the most part. She does ask him some questions, but makes no demands for an explanation of what's really going on at Thornfield, nor does she seek another position, in spite of her fears and inner doubts. How can her behavior be explained?

Jane has developed a respect for authority over her short and difficult life.  That does not mean that she does not question that authority, as we saw at Lowood and before, but in spite of Mr. Rochester's sometimes harsh personality he has treated Jane fairly (thus far) and this would seem to be a factor in his favor with Jane.  She still has "fears and inner doubts" but these are overcome by her confidence in the goodness of Rochester that underlies his outward mien.  Whether her judgement shall be justified is to be seen as the story progresses.


Rochester pressures the doctor to rush Mason out of the house and away, even though the latter is seriously injured. What do you think of this action, and why he took it?

This action follows soon after Mason's unexpected arrival at Thornfield and Rochester's strange game posing as a fortune-teller.  Thus it adds to the mystery of the story as we have been given little other information about this new character.  What could Rochester's action mean?  Rochester has demonstrated bold actions before with little explanation to those around him and so this seems in character even as it leaves the reader wondering.  I am putting it in my growing file of mysteries surrounding Thornfield Hall and its master.


What do you think of Eliza and Georgiana as adults?

I am not surprised at their development, especially Georgiana who seems to be very bitter with no reasonable basis for that view other than having developed it to a level that only her habitual behavior could have maintained.  On the other hand Eliza seems to be quiet, but happy; however I agree with Jane's assessment:
"True, generous feeling is made small account of by some;  but here were two natures rendered, the one intolerably acrid, the other despicably savourless for the want of it.  Feeling without judgement is a washy daught indeed;  but judgement untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition." 


Do you think Jane was right to forgive Mrs. Reed in light of the important information the later withheld from Jane for three years?

What is the meaning of right - that is how should we determine what is right for Jane Eyre?  As an individual one would expect that she would have the right to be treated justly and fairly by another individual, especially someone who has authority over her like Mrs. Reed.  That was not done, but it does not mean that it was not "right" for Jane to forgive Mrs. Reed for the harm that she did to Jane.  It is Jane who ultimately must decide what is right for her. Jane seems to value the peace of others, even those who have mistreated her, over the satisfaction of holding her own notion of justice over them.  She demonstrates courage in choosing to forgive Mrs. Reed and deserves my respect for her decision to do so.  Was it right?  Perhaps, for Jane.


What does Jane's impassioned speech to Mr. Rochester, while they're in the orchard, tell the reader about her?

Her speech is prefaced by a recognition that her emotions were "claiming mastery, and struggling for full sway, and assuming a right to predominate".  This is a feeling that most of us can identify having at times, even if we may not be able to articulate it as well as Jane.  She then proceeds to declare her love of Thornfield based on a life that has allowed her to share in "what is bright and energetic and high".  This seems to be an opinion based on her previous dark and low life at Lowood and with Mrs. Reed.  Jane's experience of life is still somewhat limited.  However, she shares her feelings and especially her realization and "anguish" that she must be "torn" from Rochester.  She has strong feelings for him that she believes will not, cannot, be realized.



A terrible storm suddenly springs up, as Chapter 23 draws to a close. During the night, lightning strikes the horse-chestnut tree, at the base of which Jane and Rochester had sat earlier. The tree is split in two. Do you think this is a bad omen? If so, what do you think it means? 

What a strong and bold omen of the terrors that may be in store for our dear Jane.  This moment is one that is as momentous as almost any that I have encountered in literature.  It is comparable to Tolstoy's use of the Oak Tree as an symbol in the life of Prince Andrei in War and Peace.  
In this case the omen signals more disturbing events yet to come, even as the changes in the weather from the first lines of chapter 23 ("skies so pure, suns so radiant as were then seen . . . as if a band of Italian days had come from the South") to the last page ("the wind blew, near and deep as the thunder crashed, fierce and frequent as the lightning gleamed, cataract-like as the rain fell during a storm").  As we have seen before, the weather reinforces the emotions and actions of the characters in Jane's story in a way that is just as effective as Giuseppe Verdi's use of orchestral music in his operas. 

Jane Eyre Read-along: Week 5

Welcome to the fifth week of 

the 2014 Jane Eyre Read-Along,

brought to you by

A Night's Dream of Books

and Babbling Books!!

Introduction:  "My cherished preserver, good-night!"

Jane is awakened by a strange laugh in the night and finds that there is a fire in Mr. Rochester's bedroom.  She wakes him and quickly puts out the fire, drenching him in the process.  After some time of assessment the following interchange occurs:   

"You have saved my life:  I have a pleasure owing you so immense a debt.  I cannot say more.  Nothing else that has being would have been tolerable to me in the character of creditor for such an obligation:  but you:  it is different -- I feel your benefit no burden, Jane.

'Good-night again, sir.  There is no debt, benefit, burden, obligation, in the case.'

'I knew,' he continued, 'you would do me good in some way, at some time;  . . . My cherished preserver, good-night!"

This Week's Discussion Questions  

for  Chapters 15 - 19

(Questions Provided by

Babbling Books)

1.) Rochester seems to be a very strong personality. Is it surprising that he would become enamored with someone like Celine Varens?

I do not find it surprising that Mr. Rochester finds the appeal of Ms. Varens irresistible.  He is not the first to be in that situation.  It is a case of his passions overcoming his reason; in his case a "grande passion" as he tells Jane about the experience.  What he lacked in elegance, so he believed Ms. Varens thought, he made up for with his masculinity.  Unfortunately the affair was not meant to end well as he found her in the arms of another;  again, not the first man to experience the pain of being spurned by a fickle woman.



2.) We find that Thornfield Hall is a place with strange servants, where demonic laughter is heard and mysterious fires are set. Are these just clever and atmospheric plot devices, or is Bronte saying something more? 

As a literary device this is part of the Gothic element in Jane Eyre.  While not an explicitly Gothic novel Jane Eyre has elements that were popular beginning in the late eighteenth century and into the nineteenth (among my favorites are novels by Mary Shelley and Ann Rafcliffe).  I believe these events contribute to the mystery surrounding Thornfield Hall and its owner.  They certainly continue to provide this reader with impetus to plunge forward sharing nervous wonder with Jane.



3.) At one point, Jane rebukes herself as a result of her attraction to Rochester, and resolves to suppress that attraction. Is this a realistic reaction of a person falling in love? Do people act this way in the real world and the present day?

I see this aspect of Jane as evidence of her uncertainty as to her relative position at Thornfield and in Mr. Rochester's life.  She seems unsure whether she should be satisfied with her position as Governess to Adele, thus not expecting anything more than any employee would from Mr. Rochester, or she should reasonably consider herself a potential "favorite" of Mr. Rochester and hope for a much more personal relationship.  The process she uses thinking this through seems very real as one Jane Eyre might consider, but perhaps a little cooler than may be typical for others.  In any case I loved her description of the process:

"When once more alone, I reviewed the information I had got;  looking into my heart, examined its thoughts and feelings, and endeavored to bring back with a strict hand such as had been straying through imagination's boundless and trackless waste, into the safe fold of common sense."

She has been hurt too often in her young life, by family and those from whom she should have received warmth and caring.  I am not surprised that she carefully tries to choose the "safe" approach with regard to Mr. Rochester.



4.) Jane believes that Rochester is planning on marrying for the benefit of connections. Is she assessing his character fairly? Based upon what we know about Rochester at this point, would a man like him enter into marriage for such reasons?

This seems like a reasonable choice for a man who has been betrayed by at least one woman when he let his passions override his reason (see Question 1).  I think that alone makes Jane's assessment reasonable based on the little else she really knows about him.  The assessment may also be based on her opinion about his social class in that a choice of marriage partner is more likely to be based on connections (or money) for someone of his station in society.  She may possibly be making a mistake in her assessment because of the mystery that seems to abound at Thornfield Hall, but maybe that is asking too much of her.



5.) At one point, Blanche Ingram insults and acts cruelly to a passive Jane. Rochester allows this to go on and he takes no action to stop it. What can be concluded from his behavior?

This may be just another instance of the importance of social class overriding the more benevolent feelings that one might expect from Mr. Rochester.  He has nothing to gain with his peers from doing otherwise.  On the other hand Jane may be right about Rochester and he does not really care for her at all; not that I really believe that for a moment.



6.) Rochester disguises himself as a fortuneteller deceiving Jane and several other characters. Is this the act of a trustworthy person? In reality, can someone who acted this way ever be worthy of trust? 

This episode, for me, seems to further the mystery of the story.  It is clear that he feels a need to discover information about some of those at the party that he could not obtain in a more direct matter.  This may be a simple game;  but I rather think of it as a test of Jane in particular.  He may not feel that he has the sort of relationship with Jane (or Blanche) to do otherwise.  As for the matter of trust I would respond with a perhaps.  It would depend on the persons total character and I believe we have much more to learn about Mr. Rochester before making a judgement one way or the other.  I will look forward to learning more about his relationship with Mr. Mason in this regard.

Jane Eyre Read-along: Week 4

Welcome to the fourth week of 

the 2014 Jane Eyre Read-Along,

brought to you by

A Night's Dream of Books

and Babbling Books!!

Introduction:  "Thornfield Hall was a changed place."

Jane has settled in to her life as Governess at Thornfield Hall.  However, in spite of the presence of Mrs. Fairfax and Adele with her maid, she finds the Hall a place of "stagnation" and "silence";  her room is "lonely" and Mrs. Fairfax merely "tranquil".  All this changes with the arrival of Mr. Rochester:  "I discerned in the course of the morning that Thornfield Hall was a changed place.  No longer silent as a church, it echoed every hour or two to a knock at the door or a clang of the bell.  Steps, too, often traversed the hall, and new voices spoke in different keys below.  A rill from the outer world was flowing through it.  It had a master;  for my part, I liked it better."  

Jane had yet to formally meet that master, her master; she would find even more changes about to occur.

Week 4  Discussion Questions:

Chapters 11 - 14

(Questions provided by

A Night's Dream of Books)

Jane meets her pupil, Adele Varens, in Chapter 11, and we learn more about her in subsequent chapters. How is this little girl contrasted with Jane herself, when she was a child?

Adele is also an orphan whose mama has passed on, but in many ways she is very different than the young Jane.   When we are introduced to her she is quite capable of singing and fluent in French, but seemingly undisciplined.  Jane finds Adele "docile, though disinclined to apply"  and that is certainly not like the Jane that we met in the opening chapters.  She also seems spoiled as evidenced by her preference for Mr. Rochester because he gave her "pretty dresses and toys";  but despite his kindnesses he has brought her to England and then left her there.  We later find that while she has "no great talents" she neither has "any deficiency or vice".   That Adele is willing to learn is more due to Jane's ability as a teacher than it is due to Adele's intelligence or perseverance.  

How does Bronte set the general atmosphere surrounding Jane's  awkward meeting with Mr. Rochester, in the country lane, which takes place in Chapter 12? 

It was January and "It was a fine calm day, though very cold".  Jane narrates that she offers to post a letter for Mrs. Fairfax and she shares the description of a landscape that is noted for its "utter solitude and leafless repose".  The sun is fading as the day is dying as she pauses on her journey.  

As the sun goes down the moon appears and betrays an evening calm.  This sort of solitude and calmness might not seem eerie if we hadn't been introduced to the strangeness of Grace Poole and her laugh only a page earlier.  The result for Jane is a conflation of nightmare and reality as Mr. Rochester and his horse come upon Jane.  As he passes her the realization that the black form is just a man breaks the spell, but the experience adds to momentousness of the occasion and leaves a special mark on Jane and the reader.

Jane states that she would not have offered her help to the fallen rider, had he been conventionally handsome. What does this tell the reader about Jane?

I am not sure what to make of this other than an indication of a sort of prejudice Jane has toward the outward appearance of beauty in others.  Given her experience thus far this is not surprising as she considers herself to be plain and her experience with those who flaunt their beauty such as Georgiana Reed was quite unpleasant.

What further information about Jane's personality, and her philosophy of life, do her paintings convey?

Jane's own description of the paintings reinforces her humility and her inability to translate the true power of her imagination to the painting.  That her imagination seems very dark is demonstrated by the first painting which highlights a lone cormorant and a drowned corpse. The other two paintings continue with a  theme of bleakness, cold, and in the third, an eye notable for its "glassiness of despair".  While Jane claims to have gotten pleasure out of the experience of painting these, they seem to betray a bleak outlook on life.  She claims to be tormented by her inability to realise what her mind's eye saw;  and Mr. Rochester suggests it is due to her lack of artist's skill that she only portrays a "shadow" of her thought.  What thoughts may they be?  She seems to be storing up the dark side of life in her mind so that she might better be able to handle the realities of her daily existence.  

What do you think is the real purpose of Mr. Rochester's interview of Jane? Or do you think it's the typical interview an employer would conduct, when hiring a new domestic employee?

Mr. Rochester's interview starts more as a probing of Jane's thoughts in an attempt to discern her character.  It is a strange way to conduct an interview and it tells us as much about the interrogator as it does about the interrogatee.  His is almost a teasing manner as in "Did you expect a present, Miss Eyre?  Are you fond of presents?"  He is as willing to compliment her (regarding the progress of Adele) as he is willing to criticize her (as to her piano-playing).   By the the end of the lengthy tete a tete he has a detailed picture of this young governess, but we have seen a man whose hardness, strong opinions, and harshness may be a facade hiding someone who is in search of companionship.  Perhaps there are even more secrets that he is hiding beneath this firm facade.

Do you see any hints of foreshadowing in Chapter 14? Please explain. 

Chapter fourteen seems to contain the seeds of mystery and intrigue.  Why do I say this?  We have already experienced, through Jane, the isolation of Thornfield Hall and the strangeness of Grace Poole with her even stranger, eerie laugh.  But now, we have Mr. Rochester telling his story, at least parts of it, with the admission that fate had "wronged" him and he had not the "wisdom to remain cool."  It is a story told in a way that bewilders Jane.  She says "Your language is enigmatical, sir:  but though I am bewildered, I am certainly not afraid."  What might occur in the future that would challenge Jane's present courage  we do not know;  but the idea is placed in our mind that we will find out more about the enigmatic Mr. Rochester.  He sees in Jane a "restless, resolute captive" who "were it but free, would soar cloud-high."  He on the other hand has seen better days and has only his claim to be of good intentions to give him hope for the future.  This chapter has heightened the Romanticism of the novel and suggested much more intrigue is in store.

Return to Wilkie Collins

The Woman in White
by Wilkie Collins





My reading of Wilkie Collins started with The Moonstone. It’s often credited with being the first “detective novel,” but it isn’t. It is considered a classic, but it’s boring and poorly plotted.  I do not remember why I read it.   About a year ago I finally read another novel by Wilkie Collins, The Woman in White.  While perhaps the least needing of publicity, it seems to be the best book with which to introduce Wilkie Collins to the uninitiated.

It was originally published serially in Charles Dicken’s magazine All The Year Round in 1859, and then in book form in 1860, heralded the arrival of the “sensation novel.” The book was an instant smash. Indeed, since its publication, it has never been out of print.  Other authors quickly followed his lead, working from the genre’s central technique: infusing the domestic sphere with a Gothic stream of mystery, secrets, dark intentions and deep anxiety about sexuality and identity.  Collins, however, remained peerless in creating thrills and developing character. His dialogue is so crisp, his backdrops so vivid, and his pacing so suspenseful that he foreshadows an entirely new medium of storytelling: cinema.  His prose is remarkably modern and a breeze to read. His female characters are particularly sympathetic and fascinating. Upon the publication of The Woman in White, one male reader wrote to Collins to demand the identity of the woman who had inspired the character of “Marian Halcombe.” Besotted by her intelligence and mystique, he wanted to ask for her hand in marriage. Alas for the fan, she sprang entirely from Collins’s mind.  

As the story opens, our hero, Walter Hartwright, encounters a woman – in white—on a lonely road at midnight. She asks him the way to London. Despite her ghostly garb, she is quite human. She speaks with intensity borne of fear, referring vaguely to a predator lurking nearby. This spooky meeting is a hallmark of Collins’s work: he juxtaposes Gothic chill with human vulnerability. 

The Woman in White is told from multiple perspectives, beginning with Walter’s.  It is on his way to Limmeridge House to work as a drawing master to Marian Halcombe and her sister, Laura Fairlie, that he meets the woman in white. It is but his first glimpse of her, and far more unsettling events lie in wait.  When Count Fosco and Sir Percival Glyde arrive at Limmeridge, the plot accelerates and the pages fly. Eventually, Marian must go to war with the Count. In a twist characteristic of Collins’s novels, a man falls for a plain-looking woman because he admires her brain. The Count’s romantic yearning for Marian, who detests him, is one of the most fascinating portraits of love to be found in Victorian literature, for the Count is a cynic and Marian is anything but a fair damsel painted in a soft hue.  

There’s a lot of plot in this book including eavesdropping in the rain, kidnappings, asylums, mistaken identities, whispered warnings, severe emotional suffering and (possibly) murder before the book reaches its final confrontation. There is also great love and tremendous perseverance. And the book possesses the rarest of traits in suspense novels: an utterly satisfying conclusion.

Next, read No Name, in which young Magdalen goes undercover to fight a law that deprives her of her rights, encountering danger and evil at every turn. Read Basil, in which Collins explores the contours of infidelity and society’s differing attitudes toward the sexuality of men and women. Then find all the rest of them and you will have a year’s worth of dizzying plots and compelling characters to keep you company. But start with The Woman in White; it is the most famous of Collins’s tales and deservedly so.

Two Omnipresent Authors

Both of these classic novels share many characteristics, but one among them all prevails, permeating the stories and, for this reader, making them stand out among the many novels I have read.  That is the omnipresence of the author through his commentary on the story.  This was commonly done in the eighteenth and nineteenth century and none did it better that Fielding and Thackeray.  Near the beginning of Tom Jones Fielding writes, “Reader, I think proper, before we proceed any further together, to acquaint thee that I intend to digress, through this whole history, as often as I see occasion," thus alerting the reader to his intentions while not directly disclosing the delight that will be the result of his digressions (Laurence Sterne would make digressions the centerpiece of his Tristram Shandy only a decade later, but omits the warning).  Thackeray is more brittle with his comment when he says, “Vanity Fair is a very vain, wicked, foolish place, full of all sorts of humbugs and falsenesses and pretensions.”  Yet, both authors entertain, not only with their very fine story-telling, but also with their authorial wit.

Vanity Fair 

by William Makepeace Thackeray

“Are not there little chapters in everybody's life, that seem to be nothing, and yet affect all the rest of the history?”   ― William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair


The story is about two girls with two very different personalities and temperaments. Amelia Sedley and Becky Sharp form the center of this lengthy story "without a hero". By the end I was almost convinced that all is 'vanity' in this world, or at least in this novel. It reminded me a bit of Balzac (e. g. Cousin Bette), but with more humor.
The best thing in the book was the authorial presence as Thackeray comments on the people and their actions at regular intervals. The two most memorable aspects of the book for me were the voice of the author and the character of Becky Sharp, certainly one of the most memorable in all of my reading. Unlike Dickens, the author does not deal with the ills of society at large (e. g. education or debtors' prison), but focuses on the characters of the individuals and the consequences of their character and actions on their lives.

The characters seem like puppets on a stage at times, while he uses them to reveal general truths about human nature. Becky is the best example as her greed and selfishness know no bounds. When dealing with most of the other characters you almost don't mind since they usually deserve the treatment they receive from her; however, her unmotherly actions toward her son betray a more vile nature than one would expect from anyone other than Becky Sharp.

This is a novel that explores the dichotomy between love and money, those who depend on the largess of others are often disappointed and all the love in the world does not pay the bills. Thackeray manages to keep the story interesting primarily because, in spite of her character flaws, Becky is both smart and charming. He explores her nature in a way that is both profound and detailed and ultimately, with a large supporting cast, creates a world in Vanity Fair that seems not too unlike our own.


Tom Jones 
by Henry Fielding

“Reader, I think proper, before we proceed any further together, to acquaint thee that I intend to digress, through this whole history, as often as I see occasion, of which I am myself a better judge than any pitiful critic whatever; and here I must desire all those critics to mind their own business, and not to intermeddle with affairs or works which no ways concern them; for till they produce the authority by which they are constituted judges, I shall not plead to their jurisdiction.”   ― Henry Fielding, The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling


Having read Sterne's Tristram Shandy and Homer's Odyssey to name two thematically related however chronologically different literary creations I should have been ready for Fielding's foundling. However, it is taking a while to warm up to Fielding's style of storytelling. What we have is an omnipresent author/narrator whose story includes many fascinating characters, one of whom is that author/narrator himself. The reader is treated to a series of eighteen books each containing several chapters the first of which in each case is an essay by the author about the story itself or just about most anything the author feels is relevant or necessary for the reader's edification.

But I digress, under the influence of Fielding, from the story itself which is billed as a history of Tom Jones who, as the name suggests, is a sort of every-man, a more common version of Odysseus or Don Quixote for the eighteenth century. The history is a fiction and as such is populated by fictional characters. The characters surrounding him, from his teachers, Thwackum and Square, to the Squires, Allworthy and Western, are clearly drawn with wit and wisdom; lest I forget the women for Tom has a strong and healthy interest in them whether they are low like Molly or high like Sophia Western -- women continue to perplex Tom and enliven the plot. And Tom has a good opinion of himself as the narrator notes, "Can any man have a higher notion of the rule of right and the eternal fitness of things?" (Book IV, Ch. 4).

As I entered the concluding chapters of this lively novel I found myself looking for a word to sum up my experience. I think I have found that word -- cornucopia. The abundance of characters, stories, places, and all that goes with each of these can best be considered a cornucopia. These melded with Fielding's continual insertions through essays and commentaries begins to suggest to me why this novel is considered great - one of the first of its kind in modern literature.
I also find myself comparing the hero of this story to other literary heroes whose name adorns the title of their stories. For example, David Copperfield, Adam Bede, Pendennis, and Jude the Obscure come to mind. All of these owe at least a part of their literary heritage to Fielding's Tom. Even though there is a significant change in the psychology of the characters from David to Jude, the foundation for them all and many others is the History of Tom Jones.

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