She understood, for the first time, the alchemy that happens between reader and character.
This is part of what made this book so important to me. What happened between me and Jane (the character) paralleled what was happening between Jane and Rochester. Not the romantic attraction thing, but the understanding of each other as people and their recognition of each other. And most importantly that human understanding can trump everything else. I felt like I had one of those connections, too, even if it was with a fictional character, but I knew that if happened in fiction, Bronte had to understand it too, and if it was such a well loved book, other people could, too. It was like the first time I believed you really, really could touch other people, all the way down, and that made my life and dreams feel worth it.
I know I am being HIGHLY emotional and melodramatic about that novel, but yeah. I understood its flaws, too, and didn't care. I actually thought for a *long* while about how the same things could've been conveyed in a tighter, cleaner, less out there plot, and never came up with anything that could beat what I already had, with all its--what should objectively be--fault. i just guh, love it.
Do, do Netflix this adaptations. I have some criticisms, but they are relatively minor compared to the shining wonderfulness of it overall. I don't think it could've been done better, and leastaways, it *hasn't* been...other adaptations really suck in comparison, imo. Though I haven't seen the 1973 one, which some say is the best.
no subject
This is part of what made this book so important to me. What happened between me and Jane (the character) paralleled what was happening between Jane and Rochester. Not the romantic attraction thing, but the understanding of each other as people and their recognition of each other. And most importantly that human understanding can trump everything else. I felt like I had one of those connections, too, even if it was with a fictional character, but I knew that if happened in fiction, Bronte had to understand it too, and if it was such a well loved book, other people could, too. It was like the first time I believed you really, really could touch other people, all the way down, and that made my life and dreams feel worth it.
I know I am being HIGHLY emotional and melodramatic about that novel, but yeah. I understood its flaws, too, and didn't care. I actually thought for a *long* while about how the same things could've been conveyed in a tighter, cleaner, less out there plot, and never came up with anything that could beat what I already had, with all its--what should objectively be--fault. i just guh, love it.
Do, do Netflix this adaptations. I have some criticisms, but they are relatively minor compared to the shining wonderfulness of it overall. I don't think it could've been done better, and leastaways, it *hasn't* been...other adaptations really suck in comparison, imo. Though I haven't seen the 1973 one, which some say is the best.