Reading Jane

A dear friend of mine (you know who you are) sent me Jane Eyre yesterday, which was super awesome for two reasons:

I had been curious about Jane Eyre, a book that so many women (and men) are
passionate about, but I had also been apathetic about actually, you know, reading it and
It was a lovely pick-me-up to recieve after a long
midterm.

I know said friend is excited to hear what I think of the book, and I thought perhaps it might be a good idea to do a running commentary, since with school and all it might take me awhile to get through it. Obviously, there will be spoilers. Read at your own risk.


Last night I got to chapter four. I have to say, I've been pleasantly surprised so far by how readable it is. I've never read any of Charlotte Bronte's work, and in all honesty I grouped her indiscriminately with Jane Austen. I tried to read Persuasion once, but it was such a slog that I put it down by page 30. The fact that I am now on page 35 of Jane Eyre and haven't fallen asleep is heartening.

The storyline itself, however, isn't. Heartening, that is. It's actually pretty depressing. Poor little terrorized Jane. Perhaps in some alternative universe for fictional characters she's having some porridge and commiserating with Oliver Twist.

There's not much else to say, really, as I'm still just getting to know the characters. I'm excited to read more, though, and I'll keep you all posted!