Dreams in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre

I thought that it was about time that I tackled one of my favourites. I didn’t really want to review books that I unconditionally love because it leaves them open to attack, and I know that every book has its faults, none of them can be prefect because statistically speaking perfection cannot exist; but some of them are pretty darn close.

I recently wrote an essay on the function of dreams in Jane Eyre and it really got me thinking because there seems to be so much relevance, all the events in the novel are so perfectly interconnected and almost mystical that it seems like an obvious observation. Yet the first time I read the book, which has to be at least four years ago, I didn’t pick up on any of the uncanny elements of the text. To me it was just a romance, set in the my favourite time period. Jane was a strong-willed woman who was an inspiring character to both the reader and the other characters in the novel. She always followed her brain, often to the detriment of her heart, but she wanted independence – financially and socially. Once she had achieved this, she was able to wrap the story up with a marriage and happily ever after.

But Jane doesn’t have it easy. She is locked up by her aunts, attacked by her cousins, alienated for the entirety of the novel, even at times by the man she loves. Jane’s experience in the Red Room seems to establish her entire story and future, it is such an important part of her childhood that it influences her in later life. It pops up frequently throughout the novel, particularly involving the incidents with Bertha before her wedding. The Red Room symbolises Jane’s alienation and therefore warns her of her heart and her passions, it protects her from becoming dependent on other people. Jane wants to be independent and marry someone on equal terms, but being financially dependent on her husband is contrary to this.

On the search for independence

On the search for independence

Bertha is also an interesting dream-like character as for the majority of the novel she isn’t seen, isn’t even spoken about she is just heard and the consequences of her actions seen. She is entirely invisible, the madwoman in the attic, locked up because she is ‘crazy’. To some extent she is mad, setting the bed on fire and destroying Jane’s veil, but she is only this way because of her treatment. Abused, mistreated and confused. Jane relates to Bertha, she is the passionate side of her character, the side that let herself become dependent on Rochester, marry him and then be traded in for a younger model.

Of course I don’t read the book in such a cynical way, it is still a love story in my eyes – but something about Bertha and the haunting aspect of dreams has revealed the harshness of the text. Imperialism and the role that Britain played in the colonies is hinted at in the novel, with Bertha and Mason coming from Jamaica. The Lowood institution that Jane is sent to as a child is another example of Victorian cruelty and the expectations of children and orphans.

Yet despite all of that, the suggestions at a political agenda, the hauntings, dreams, deaths, the novel is still beautiful. It is written so eloquently, with Jane as a character dropping in and out of her opinions, talking to the reader as it makes the book personal. Jane is talking to you. Jane is in search for a man she can marry and live happily with, it just so happens that certain events have to get in their way before Edward Rochester is her man. The hauntings are only there to make the novel more realistic. Reading a romance is enjoyable regardless of the likeliness of the conclusion, but when one is so heavily soaked in truth and at the same time impossibility it seems impossible for such a thing to occur. Yet Charlotte Bronte has done it, and created a book that is pretty close to perfection in my eyes.

 

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Books, bookcases and deadlines.

I love reading. Always have and always will. There is just something so eternal in reading, you will never run out of things to read. Your library will forever expand, and if you are like me, expand way too quickly for you to facilitate where to store all of those books. I hate to leave books in piles on the floor, they deserve to be shelved or at least stacked on something to avoid being kicked or abused, but sometimes that is just the only option.

A couple of years ago I asked for a bookcase for Christmas. A strange present for a 16 year old girl to some, but it was by far the best investment I ever made. It managed to accommodate all of my books nicely…well it did until I discovered a little secondhand bookshop with all books for £1 and before I knew it…I was back to stacking on the floor.

English Degree...history books seem to be a bit more dusty.

English Degree…history books seem to be a bit more dusty.

But the other real problem that I find with reading, is that because there are so many books I can’t decide which one to read. Or worse than that, I just read them all at the same time. This indecisiveness once led to me reading 7 books simultaneously, in fact I think I still haven’t finished one of them.

You find a nice juicy book. You read for a few hours and get hooked and before you know it chapter 7 has already flown by. But then you find another book, one that you have been searching for and you want to read that one too. Yet you know that the original is at the peak of its excitement and yet the lure of this untainted and unexplored territory is what you really want. You must know whether that new book is as good as you think it is, or how it stands compared to the one you should be reading right now.

And then just as you are resolving your dilemma and you decide that you will finish the one you are reading and then move on, you remember that you have to finish that reading for class. That reading for your essay due in next week. That journal article that has nothing interesting in it, except perhaps for a few quirky gimmicks that make you remember you love history because of the simple stupidity of some people. The book that you have to read and review to keep your blog up to date. Reading to a deadline is the kryptonite to reading, it takes away all the joy that people find in that discovery process. Fair enough you may have got hooked and read the book in a night regardless of the seminar you have on it at 11am tomorrow. But it is the inability for you to decide which book you want to prioritise which is sad.

If I could have it my way, reading in summertime would be year round. But I guess taking a degree in English and History comes with the guarantee of changing people’s love of reading. Hopefully though, it won’t be for long…

Review: Carol Ann Duffy’s The World’s Wife

I read this collection of poems a couple of years ago now, but the following two have always been more memorable to me. Remembering them while walking down the road, something I see triggers my memory. There are 30 poems in Duffy’s anthology, but these seem to really capture aspects of female life that are completely different and comparing them together offers . The poems are adaptations of famous historical male figures that have been changed to reveal a female opinion. Wives, daughters, mothers, sisters, goddesses and fariytale figures all feature in the poetry.

The Worlds Wife

The first is Little Red Cap, which is the first in the collection. I particularly liked this because of the reversal of roles, Little Red Cap is in control, she seeks out the wolf for her own pleasure. She uses him to help her become an adult, he buys her her first drink. At the end of the poem when she no longer needs him, she kills him. Instead of being the sweet little girl in the fable, she is empowered and she enjoys the appeal of an older wolf. Their sexual relationship  is one of exploration, she uses him to develop as a person, he teaches her about life, poetry and love; all things that she wanted as a child.

The poem seems to be a journey of love, her love of poetry allows her to find the wolf but it also helps to write the poem. The wolf’s lair is full of language, books and passion. Little Red Cap for me, seems to represent the curiosity of young girls on the cusp of adulthood. They are interested in experiences, in adventure, in all things that she should not have. Her love of adventure allows her to be brave and accept the wolfs first drink, then to follow him home. In comparison to the Brother Grimm’s tale however, she is not left helpless and powerless, she takes her life into her own hands when she realises that the wolf is no longer enough to satisfy her curiosity and appetite. She kills him “one chop, scrotum to throat” and in doing so she not only liberates herself but she also prevents the wolf from praying on other young girls.

In comparison to Little Red Cap is my favourite poem Mrs Darwin: 

7 April 1852
Went to the Zoo.
I said to Him—
Something about that Chimpanzee over there reminds me of you.

Th simplicity of this poem is what I love about it most. The suggestion that Charles Darwin’s most important work The Origin of Species is only a discussion of something that has always been noticeably apparent to others just seems to demean his work. Now I am a fan of Darwin and his theory of evolution, but in this poem the combination of the simple rhyme, short lines and form just seem to completely undermine his work. Also the poem written in the form of a diary entry relates to the main medium of communication Darwin used. He recorded all his findings in his diaries and journals while he was travelling on the Beagle and it makes sense that his wife would have too.

Review: The History Boys by Alan Bennett

Education and knowledge are always interesting points of discussion. Learning the right information just so that you will pass the exams at the end of the year, or knowing for the sake of knowing. It is sad that in the modern day schooling system that knowledge has become a necessity and not an enjoyment, even those who go on to read a subject at university normally only do so to further there career. Fast-track way to get a better job in theory…

This issue seemed to be at the heart of Alan Bennett’s The History Boys, with the two different teachers Irwin and Hector. Hector taught his boys things that they enjoyed and that they would remember in their last days, poetry recitals, French plays and gobbets of information that could potentially be useful in an exam, but wouldn’t necessarily enable them to make the cut and pass the Oxford entry exam. Whereas Irwin has been specifically hired by the school to help the boys study what they will need to get into the prestigious university, he is their private tutor.

History nowadays is not a matter of conviction. It’s a performance. It’s entertainment. And if it isn’t, make it so.

This was one of the problems that was central to the progression of the play, the clash of old and new in the schooling system. Hector is there to teach the boys ‘General Studies’ things that should help them in later life, but in the current climate the boys have no need to waste time memorizing Thomas Hardy’s Drummer Hodge they want to get into Oxford or Cambridge and so they should be studying for those exams.

The play also questioned the extent to which pupils should have a relationship with their teachers – and I mean that in every sense of the word. The sexuality of both the teachers and the students are not only questioned but pushed to the very limits, which I found very interesting to read. In my school experiences I never saw a student openly ask a teacher on a date and yet it didn’t seem too odd that it could happen at this school set in 1980’s Sheffield.

"History is just one fucking thing after another"

“History is just one fucking thing after another”

Although the narrative jumped around and was in no-sense of the word linear, the flash-forwards and flash-backs because of the intertextual references make the setting believable. The play is set in the past, it is also set in the present day, it also talks about the past even further back than the 1980’s. This is a school where students learn, regardless of what they learn, the primary intention is the pursuit of knowledge. For me, it was this that helped the play really connect with me as a reader. Everyone has been in a classroom and it is a place that is safe, ok you may have to sit a horrific exam in there at some point, but nonetheless it is still a place where you can develop as a person. The characters in the play felt like real people. Real people who just want to do the best and the most they can with their lives.

Review: Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things is NOT a small book

Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things  is one of those books that seems to come along once in a blue moon. It seemed to defy all the conventional ‘rules’ of literature and in the process created a sensation. The characterisation, non-linear narrative, and unfamiliar and yet at the same time familiar setting make it hard to put down.

The story is set in Kerala, India and retraces the lives of an upper caste family in the lead up and aftermath of a tragic drowning accident, with  focus on the destruction of the fraternal twins Estha and Rahel’s lives. The story starts at the end, finds the beginning in the middle and finishes somewhere in the middle which allows the characters to be developed and seen at different stages of their lives. The vast array of characters also aid the storytelling because the narrative is not restricted to one person’s viewpoint; third person narrative enables us as readers to experience India through the eyes of children, grandparents, women, men and untouchables.

What I liked most was the political aspect of the novel. At the very heart of the plot was the transgression of the laws that have built Indian society and yet they were so easily broken, broken by ordinary people. The laws that surround religion, nationality, caste, gender, sexuality, incest: the laws that lay down “who should be loved, and how. And how much.” But it remains relatable, although it discusses and leaves those issues open for criticism it is not a political attack on the system. It questions the importance of the small things over the big, or in this case the social ‘laws’.

Love Laws

Love Laws define who we can love, when and by how much…

I found one of the characters particularly interesting. Velutha who is the God of Small Things. What I most enjoyed was his presence in the text, for the majority of the opening he is only referred to, and is not seen or given a large role because of his place as an untouchable in the Indian caste system, at the bottom of the hierarchical system. But as the ‘laws’ were starting to become more apparent as the plot picked up and they started to be questioned and broken, he became a crucial character. Despite the stereotype associated with the untouchables to the other characters he was, and is for me, one of the nicest characters. He was not aggressive or violent towards those who were ranked higher in the heteronormative society.

Although set in India between 1960-1990 depending on which part of the narrative we look at, the text was familiar. I have been to India and was able to imagine the places I had seen and compare that to the descriptions in the novel, but regardless of my experiences I still felt that I was able to relate to the characters. The descriptions of the exotic didn’t feel like Roy was trying to sell India, like some people have criticised, but it just felt like a description of a family home in India. For Roy, the scenes that she writes about are quotidian, nothing more.

Review: Lord of the Flies by William Golding

I can’t bring myself to write that I didn’t like this novel, declaring that outright seems almost like an offence. But I certainly didn’t love it. There is something so completely and utterly chilling in the thought that boys as young as 6 are capable of killing. I understand that this is an allegorical novel and that the children represent both sides of humanity, both good and evil, but Golding has used young boys as his medium to tell the story. Which for me almost made it too uncomfortable to read.

Lord of the Flies

I am glad that I did read it though on a few levels however, and so I don’t want to turn readers away because of my experience of the uncanny. Firstly, the character development is fantastic. Jack particularly interested me because he is determined to win, determined to receive more support than Ralph and determined for things to be run his way. Jack represents all that is bad with mankind, savagery, brutality, an instinct to prey on the weak and vulnerable and most importantly the desire for power. Without Jack acting as the novels antagonist there would be no need for Ralph. Without this murderous 12 year old boy the book would perhaps have been more enjoyable to read, which is why I like him. He manipulates fear to his own advantage, even for a brief moment convincing Ralph and Piggy, the figureheads of order and civilisation, that being a member of a tribe is the only option.

Secondly, glasses. Piggy and his glasses. For me this was a crucial aspect of the novel because so many of the events relied on who had possession of the glasses, and therefore who has power over fire. Although the glasses were crucial to the boys survival on the island, something about them experimenting and playing with an ordinary object helped them to be children again, no matter how briefly. Similarly at the begin of the novel when they swim in the lagoon, this is easy to read because it is children acting the way we expect them to in society. This becomes uncanny and uncomfortable to read when events turn sour very rapidly.

Finally, the Lord of the Flies himself. The dark and confusing island that the boys inhabit is a hot bed for the mythical and savage. The boar’s head represents all that is wrong with humanity whilst at the same time offering salvation, without sounding too philosophical. The head declares that the beast lies within all the boys and they are the only ones that can do anything about it. SPOILER ALERT Simon’s death however takes the truth with him and this has a strong resonance, I felt in reality. For everything that is good, there are far more things that are evil.

It was this that I found so disconcerting and uncanny, the book offers no real salvation, no optimist opinion of the future. The future is bleak because all humans are instinctively savage and brutal and those who do possess rare inherent moral values would be “dealt with”.

The only redeeming point that I can pick out from that would be that at least those people do exist.

Margaret Thatcher was great.

One day was all her family asked for, one day of respect. Respect for a woman who was quite possibly the greatest Prime Minister that twentieth century Britain saw. But barely moments after news of her death reached the farthest corners of the planet was the world ablaze with abusive messages about her, her critics seemed unable to comprehend that a human being had just died.

Margaret Thatcher

Margaret Thatcher transformed Britain from the tumbledown wreck of a Great nation, the sick man of Europe, back to a dignified and respected power. In order to make a great improvement, great changes needed to be implemented. Her social revolution inspired a generation to buy their own homes and bring them onto the property market, with the help of a reduced income tax. Council houses were sold off to families to help rebuild the nation as a united front. Property ownership allowed the public to buy into the country; they were investing their money back into the economy. Taxes were lowered; trade unions reformed and government expenditure decreased to help create a new market for the people, succeeding in bringing inflation rates down.

She is often seen as the woman who threw thousands of people out of work and catapulted them into unemployment because of her severe reshuffling of industry; but the manufacturing industry was no longer a profitable division. The public adapted to these changes because they saw the necessity in the alterations. By the end of her third term as Prime Minister the quantity of people employed in the public sector was higher than it is now, with 23.1% compared to around 20% today. The reshuffling of the economy was necessary to see Britain rejuvenate, it needed modernising. Outsourcing manufacture and privatising companies was necessary for regeneration. By privatising the industrial sector shares were bought by the people of Britain and, like with the housing, they were able to buy a part of Britain. Moreover, the shares that were sold to foreign investors enabled Britain to become truly globalised. The sale of companies like BT, British Gas and railway enabled a better quality of services due to the competition that it created. Britain immersed herself with other countries and this helped to move away from the looming shadow of colonialism that still haunted British shores.

If something is worth doing, it is worth doing properly. Thatcher’s ambition and determination to run the country like her father’s grocery store was incomparable to anything any Prime Minister had done before. Britain hadn’t seen the likes of a character as strong as her. 62% of people agree that she played an important part in the changing role of women according to a guardian poll. Regardless of her belief in feminism or not, Thatcher was a woman in power. A woman, who was able to inspire a generation as they climbed through the ranks, entered the patriarchal society and all in the hope of making life easier for Britons. She brought purpose and leadership back into politics.

It seems sad that people are only capable of remembering the bad and forgetting the good. A woman who in the words of David Cameron, didn’t just lead our country, saved it. She made huge, fundamental differences, challenging ones that did not offer a safe ride, to our country; changes which have not been reversed. People need to separate themselves from their personal animosity they have for her to appreciate her as an individual. Unfortunately, I feel that this will not be possible for many because the damage is still too fresh. In a generations time people will look back and appreciate the extent to which Thatcher really did help to put Britain back on the map.