I’ve never taken so long to read a book in my life. It was like torture every day to try and go back to it and get it finished. I kept complaining to my wife that it was sooo long, and she kept telling me that I should be done already because it was such a short book. She was obviously wrong, it was an incredibly long book that takes forever to get through.
Ok so the book. I’m probably not built for this kind of literature, it just didn’t do anything for me. Jane wasn’t a captivating character, probably because I couldn’t relate to her in any way. While I felt sorry for her predicament in life, that was about it. Did children actually throw tantrums and faint like that way back when?
The interaction between Mr.Rochester and Jane was mildly interesting, because I could relate to some of that, but things just moved so slowly that it was difficult for me to stay interested. I know that’s the writing style and word choices of when the book was written – but that doesn’t mean it’s “good”. It might have been awesome 100 years ago, but time goes on and things change.
The story isn’t original or world shattering. Again, it probably was when it was written, but thats like using a cell phone from 20 years ago now and saying it’s great. Judging the book based on how much I enjoyed it is really the only metric I can offer. And, I didn’t.
One thing I did appreciate (other than getting to the end of the book finally and not having to read any more) was that the ending was a little bittersweet, and not totally happily ever after. More authors should be willing to write semi-realistic endings rather than the pure over the top romanticised happily ever after.