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Seen now, in broad daylight, she looked tall, fair, and shapely brown eyes with a benignant light in their irids, and a fine pencilling of long lashes round, relieved the whiteness of her large front on each of her temples her hair, of a very dark brown, was clustered in round curls, according to the fashion of those times, when neither smooth bands nor long ringlets were in vogue her dress, also in the mode of the day, was of purple cloth, relieved by a sort of Spanish trimming of black velvet a gold watch (watches were not so common then as now) shone at her girdle. I suppose I have a considerable organ of veneration, for I retain yet the sense of admiring awe with which my eyes traced her steps. It’s at Lowell, Jane’s first boarding school, that we run into the first really classic set of lesbianish characters, Helen and Miss Temple, who sets Jane’s organ of veneration aflame:
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Given how large the Rochester-and-Thornfield storyline loom in most reader’s memories (and in most movie adaptations), it’s crazy to reread the book and realize how much of it is dedicated to her life before and after meeting him. I’m not entirely sure on this, but I think that Jane Eyre is just about the first English novel to devote a significant amount of time to a girl’s experience at an all-female boarding school, which means that without it we might not have lesbian classics like Mädchen in Uniform and Chocolates for Breakfast and Regiment of Women and Olivia and The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, and our lives would be the poorer for it indeed. Jane Eyre falls in love too much to be confined to but one gender. No, my only hope here is that you will come to see Jane Eyre as a book that is suffused with a marvelously gay atmosphere, all tender looks and proclamations of devotion and boarding-school girlfriends. He’s all bark and she’s all bite together they make a horrifying, adorable dog. I like the way they terrify one another with slightly different methods - he threatens to mail her to Ireland but doesn’t follow through she pretends to run back to her room to grab her handkerchief and abandons him. This is a slightly unusual Femslash Friday inasmuch as there’s no One True Pairing I’m trying to argue you ’round into supporting I don’t disagree that Jane and Rochester make for a pleasantly unhinged couple. Rochester! I’m not going to take away Mr. She falls in love with everyone who shows her a bit of kindness like it’s her job, starting with Miss Temple and ending with her hot cousins Mary and Diana.Īnd Mr. She almost starves to death because she’s too embarrassed to talk to strangers, and that resonates with me deeply, as they say. “Hopeless of the future, I wished but this-that my Maker had that night thought good to require my soul of me while I slept and that this weary frame, absolved by death from further conflict with fate, had now but to decay quietly, and mingle in peace with the soil of this wilderness.” I would much rather he had knocked me down.” I had some fear-or hope-that here I should die: but I was soon up crawling forwards on my hands and knees, and then again raised to my feet-as eager and as determined as ever to reach the road.” “A weakness, beginning inwardly, extending to the limbs, seized me, and I fell: I lay on the ground some minutes, pressing my face to the wet turf. “If I could go out of life now, without too sharp a pang, it would be well for me,” I thought.” “I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh -it is my spirit that addresses your spirit just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God’s feet, equal,-as we are!”
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Look here to gain some real affection from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love, I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kicking horse, and let it dash its hoof at my chest-” “No I know I should think well of myself but that is not enough: if others don’t love me I would rather die than live-I cannot bear to be solitary and hated, Helen. I wish we were both dead so you would respect my ghost. If you won’t be my friend I hope a horse kicks me in the face and I explode.
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If I can’t get a new job, I will kill myself, you bastard, she tells God. She threatens suicide at the drop of a hat. She’s a tiny monster who roams the countryside, flinging herself on people’s doorsteps, demanding that they love her or she’ll drown herself in some dark elfin sea. Jane Eyre is far and away my favorite creep in literature.