Beyond Thornfield Hall

Margaret Perdue
Sep 9, 2018 · 4 min read

I always wake up at 430am.

It’s my favorite time of the day. The house is so quiet. Just Moose and I shuffling around getting our coffee and reading the news. (I don’t mean to imply Moose is reading the news, he usually just lies there waiting for my commentary.)

This morning the rain is pounding on roof and the wind thrashing my ancient Magnolia. Recently I put my Fall decorations on my table and lighting the

candle inside my old lantern changes the look in my kitchen from cheerful to spectral.

Luna, my mystical cat appears from nowhere wearing her usual look of disdain for Moose.

All this mood lighting and rain drumming and wild howling is creating a very Gothic air. I began to think about one of the first books I ever fell in love with and the woman who created them, Charlotte Bronte.

From what I have read about her most of her days must have been like this morning.

Stuck out there on the moors with nothing to stop the cold wind seeping into her dour Father’s home.

Was she ever warm?

It’s no surprise she wrote about creepy manor houses, mad women hidden away in attics and lonely spinsters.

If you haven’t read any of the Bronte’s, go to your closest bookstore or library now! Go now! Click off this story and get moving!

My recommendation as to who you should read first, of course you should read Charlotte.

Just a few brief notes on her…

  • She was a very small woman.
  • She was the oldest of the three sisters.
  • She was devoted to her father(which has been interpreted as a little weird at times).
  • She was desperately, hopelessly in love with a married man who didn’t give her a second thought.
  • She married a man after he proposed twice(I’m guessing she finally decided to settle.)
  • She died while expecting her first child.

So there are just a few facts to give you some context.

But I owe her so much.

Little, small, quiet Charlotte Bronte brought to life Edward Rochester, indeed the first hero I even fell in love with and she created the spark of interest in what would become my favorite genre, Gothic fiction.

Edward Rochester, what a wonderful hero!

Dark, brooding, handsome, weird, brave, and yes, sexy. I loved his gentleness contrasted with his fury. And I loved his strangeness. Rochester makes Jane sit with him and doesn’t speak to her; he asked her if she thinks he’s handsome then barks orders at her; he gets so drunk he doesn’t even know his bed is on fire and he is very open about the fact he has gotten busy in France producing this child that he seems not to like at all. Not to mention he plays with the affections of his current girlfriend cruelly and thinks its funny to dress up like an old woman at his own party.

What a nut-case!

But he had that spark. That bit of bad boy danger which became the basis of all Gothic heroes which came after him. He is tortured, guilty and only the love of Jane can redeem him.

Then there is Jane, our classic Gothic heroine.

Jane the plain. Jane the poor. Jane the brave. Jane the hero.

She is a warrior from the time she is at Longwood school to Thornfield Hall. She hears the laughter in the night and grabs the candle to enter the dark hall. She says no to being a mistress and goes out on her own. Jane heads off into the dark woods of her life and doesn’t just survive, she thrives.

I remember watching Timothy Dalton in the PBS production of 1983. Right after the 1st installment I got the book and read it cover to cover over one long weekend. It was, of course, even better than the television version.

Then I read everything I could about the Brontes and everything I could about Jane Eyre, the novel. From that stepping off point I read her other novel, Villette, which became another personal favorite.

Think about it!

Because this one story of Jane and Rochester intrigued me so I went on to read Camille Paglia, Harold Bloom, Mary Stewart and more and more wonderful authors.

I also learned as much as I could about the Victorian era, everything from what they ate to what they feared and cherished.

To sum up my ramblings, I think I would just like to ask you, Gentle Reader, who was your first literary love?

Who opened the door of your mind and invited you to explore?

Was it an author, a story, or a character who was your personal catalyst?

All lovers of books have that moment when a hand reaches out and beckons.

So tell me, Gentle Reader, who was your first?

Please follow and like us: Margaret Perdue Books and www.walkingmoose.com


Originally published at walkingmoose.com on September 9, 2018.

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