Chapter 28: A Book More Than 100 Years Old

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

Dear Reader, it took me a month to get through the nearly 500 pages of this one. I am a little embarrassed to admit that I went this long without reading a Bronte, but now I am free of that burden. I have so many thoughts about Jane, I'm not even sure where to begin. I'll give it a stab, though.

First, in today's world, this would not be a passionate love story. Mr. Rochester is kind of a jerk. Besides the fact that he comments frequently on his superiority, he threatens Jane with violence. Oh, and he locked his inconvenient wife in the attic, where she has to witness his wooing of two different women. No wonder she wants to burn him alive. In today's world, Jane would give him the heave-ho and find her own bliss- with or without a husband.

But the story doesn't take place today. It takes place in a time when women were expected to defer to the nearest available man, to not think, just do. And Jane is an unexpected woman. She has her own, steadfast moral compass. She is witty and challenges men who are unaccustomed to that. I daresay that her cousin, St. John, does love her in a way she does not see. Maybe not in a physical attraction, but she stirs something in him that is quite like love. He asks her multiple times to be his helpmeet, which, to me, says he sees her as a partner- a pretty important factor in love.

So, I couldn't get swept away in the romance like so many others. (I swear, my mother-in-law gets a little dizzy imagining Rochester and Jane.) But I can see how this work is so revolutionary. Not only were women not published back then, but female characters were not to have their own ideas about the world.

Other things I love about Jane- she doesn't go through the she-was-always-pretty-and-never-realized-it transformation. I love that she finds a way to flourish in any environment. I love that she is willing to do something very painful because it is right. I love that she is also willing to believe in the supernatural enough to make an ill-planned journey, to chase a dream. She's also book smart and caring and matter-of-fact. And her wit! The men in her life love the way she turns a phrase. She's the ultimate at playing hard to get.

I've read a few reviews of another book from the perspective of the first Mrs. Rochester. Probably won't pick it up any time soon, but she is the reason I started this one. The Wolf Man in Chapter 20's selection loves Jane Eyre because he sympathizes with the locked away Bertha. I'm not sure there is enough material in the original to make her sympathetic- she's basically an insane specter that sets things on fire. But you do have to at least acknowledge that she is aware of Mr. Rochester's affection for Jane and see how troubling that would be for a sane person, much less an already disturbed mind.

I would love for the red room story to be more developed, to know more about the haunting of the Reed's manor. It has the makings of a great tale. Maybe there is a short story exercise in that for me. Afterall, it is almost Halloween.

So, remembering to keep it all in context, Jane Eyre earns 3.5 Marias. I won't be buying a copy or reading it again, but I also don't feel like setting anything on fire.

Chapter 25: A Pulitzer Prize Winner

To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee

Are you shocked? Floored? Flummoxed? Bamboozled? I didn't think so. There's no way I could read Watchman and not re-re-re-re-read Mockingbird. And, as I also re-watch Pretty Little Liars now that the show has revealed who A is, I realize the Liars are reading Mockingbird for English class. So Liars gets a little more credit from me (the mental hospital is named Radley, too, but I had not forgotten that fact).

So, Mockingbird is required reading in high schools across the country, with good reason. It opens the door for Humanities teachers to discuss racial history in the U.S., introduces students to an influential female writer, and gives an accessible account of southern life during the Depression. All of that is great, but it's not why I love this story. When it comes down to it, I love Scout. She's precocious, obnoxious, naive, and wise. She's brash, unruly, unladylike, and charming. She is, in short, a little girl.

Now that Mockingbird is fresh in my memory, the conflict of Watchman is actually pretty predictable and is totally fitting with the characters. We love the Atticus of Mockingbird for many of the same reasons we (the readers and Jean Louise) feel betrayed by him three decades later. It's funny how much the era of the story affects how we feel about the exact same behaviors. In the 30's, he was a leader, a champion, worthy of our adoration. In the 60's the same kind of ideas land him firmly in inexcusable territory. This, of course, is indicative of how fast things changed in this country during those decades, but also how we are willing to overlook things we don't like (paternalism, pity) if our hero does something great (defending a black man against accusations made by whites). This idea still holds true today. How much bad are we willing to ignore if the overall result is good? What is the tipping point at which we change our opinion of a person or organization?

While I think this is all important stuff to think about and discuss and question, it's not the root of why I love this book so much. In fact, it's peripheral to the heart of the novel, in part because a nine-year-old doesn't really grasp the implications of the case her father is working. Scout just takes the world at face value. She believes what her important adults (Atticus, Calpurnia, and Miss Maudie) tell her and suspects everyone else of falsehood. She is quick to defend those whom she loves and has a strong sense of fair, even if it is flawed. Her father has taught her important truths she won't learn anywhere else, namely that all people, even those we deem beneath us, have dignity and deserve if not our respect, then their privacy. It seems to me that this is a dangerous lesson, minding your own business to the detriment of your fellow humans. He starts out with a grand idea but let's it fizzle out in the details.

Scout, however, just applies her lessons to everything. She doesn't see the subtleties of the class divisions in her community because she believes that people are people. She knows they exist, that certain families just have their ways, but she is pragmatic and doesn't judge those other ways. This lovable little tomboy teaches (and learns) more about community than many give her credit for. Often readers feel like they are with her in Atticus' lap, that they learn alongside her. But in my estimation, Scout Finch is the true hero of the tale.

Even though it is set in the 1930's, Mockingbird still is relevant today. One paragraph stood out to me, speaking volumes about how quickly and easily we dehumanize each other. After confronting a group of men who set out to harm the black man accused of raping a white woman, Atticus tells his son, "A mob's always made up of people, no matter what ... a gang of wild animals can be stopped, simply because they're still human. Hmp, maybe we need a police force of children ..." Our failure to see others as humans is easy and enormous. Instead of images of five Marias, I'll leave you with these three images of humanity during conflict. (And, I'd like to just say that it is crazy to me that Sen. Pugh was criticized for hugging a rioter. What she did was not condoning actions but saying, "I see you, I hear you, I acknowledge that you are a person.")