For all of you who cannot stand Jane Eyre, I have a rather unpleasant announcement to make, because during my blogging break I fell in love with the book. Which means, my posts will be heavily Jane Eyre related in the upcoming days. You see, I know some people dislike multiple posts on one book, but I cannot help myself. There is so much I’d love to touch upon and to fit it all together into one post is quite impossible.
Two weeks ago, I watched the 2006 adaptation of Jane Eyre [it is the only adaptation I can stand, that I love, really. And believe me, in my madness I have tried most of the others. The 1996 one is the worst, maybe? It has an overly nervous Jane Eyre and a Mr Rochester that is clearly mis-cast: he is nice, too fucking nice. The 2006 version isn't perfect and I know there are some out there who hate it. But it works very well, for me]. I then watched it again. (I told you I was obsessive). I then picked up the book to reread it. I know this might be completely wrong in the eyes of some, re-watching an adaptation before rereading the book, but let us not get into that right now. I picked up the book to reread it, and I was not sure what to expect. I always declare that I loved Jane Eyre when I read it years ago, I must have been 17 or so. Would I still love it now? Would I find Mr. Rochester a creep and think the relationship a horror instead of a great love story? A while ago, I came across a post by Carolyn from A Few of My Favourite Books [who is by the way, one of my new favourite bloggers. So much so that I felt hesitant to share the link with you. Why? Maybe because I want to keep her from realising that there are so many more intelligent bloggers than me out there?] in which she said that she could not like Rochester as she once did. It made me pause. I had long had the plan to reread Jane Eyre, what if I felt like her? While reading, I felt some of her doubts, but it did not stop me from loving the book. I will get into that in another post.
Anyway, I loved the book. Absolutely loved it. It is so intense? I finished it within 28 hours. And then I felt a little hopeless. What to do? Where to turn next? I became obsessed. I am like that, sometimes, with some stories/movies/books. The last time I felt this strongly about anything was 8 years ago [when I stopped to think about it, I could not believe it has been 8 years already], when I fell in love with Pride and Prejudice. Ask my parents, or my sister, they will still sigh over how many times I watched that 1995 adaptation of the novel, how many times I read the actual book. And so when re-watching the Jane Eyre adaptation for the third time [I know, I know] did not satisfy me enough, I went and picked up the book again. Right away. And maybe loved it even more.
So, I think we might safely conclude that I have become obsessed.
And that oh, I do not fit into the stereotype of Jane Austen fans hating anything written by a Brontë, or the other way around.