We're at Thornfield Hall! We're at Thornfield Hall! ::Cue lots of excited bouncing::
Um. Yes. I have been known to just start the book here. When I'm pressed for time and need a dose of Jane + Rochester. I've read the middle section and the very end probably half a dozen times more often than I've read the whole book.
Ahem.
Anyway! This is a longer chapter, but I figure lots of people will have a long weekend coming up if they need to catch up. SO much happening here! Jane arrives at Thornfield, Jane meets Mrs. Fairfax, Jane thinks Mrs. Fairfax is awfully nice for an employer, Jane realizes Mrs. Fairfax is not really her employer, Jane meets her new pupil and they chatter away in French, Jane asks a lot of questions about the as-yet-unmet Mr. Rochester and is unsatisfied by Mrs. Fairfax's answers, Jane explores the house, Jane hears weird and creepy laughter, Jane meets Grace Poole... busy times!
What is up with the guy at the inn in Millcote not knowing there's a place called Thornfield nearby? Dude, it's huge, full of Gothic Foreboding, very gloomy and atmospheric... that ringing any bells? Huh. Maybe he's new.
I love that Mrs. Fairfax right away distinguishes Jane as not being one of the servants. I know that governesses in that time occupied a sort of weird middle-world, not servants, but also not equals with their employers. How lovely for Jane to have another person in that middle realm whom she can confide in! And isn't Mrs. Fairfax a dear? Prone to chatter, but still, so kind.
And Adele is reasonably cute. I've always liked her line, "Aire! Bah! I cannot say it" (p. 120). That's always struck me as something a spoiled little girl would say, somehow. Though then she sings that song about a forsaken lady with a perfidious lover -- do you think her mother taught it to her in hopes that some day she would happen to sing it around Mr. Rochester and wound him?
But Thornfield -- wow, Bronte pours on the Gothic atmosphere, doesn't she? Right from the first, we hear about "the eerie impression made by that wide hall, that dark and spacious stair-case, and that long, cold gallery" (p. 116). Then the outside has those "mighty old thorn trees strong, knotty, and broad as oaks" (p. 118) -- don't they remind you of Mr. Rochester himself? Yet Jane's own room, and Mrs. Fairfax's little sitting room, are cozy and homey enough. And I would love to curl up in that library! Especially if I could coax a certain lord of the manor to give me the keys to all the book cases.
Mrs. Fairfax does tell us a few things about Mr. Rochester by what she doesn't say. Jane asks if she likes him, and she replies that she does because "the family have always been respected here" (p. 124). She says "his character is unimpeachable, I suppose (p. 124 -- emphasis mine), and that he is "rather peculiar" (p. 124). But why is Jane so very curious about him? She isn't satisfied with Mrs. Fairfax's account of him, and she ponders it -- but Mrs. Fairfax has already said he's rarely at Thornfield, so why should it matter to Jane what he's like? Unless she's worried about him showing up and making untoward advances or something, but she seems too sheltered to really have that on her mind.
Several bits of foreshadowing going on here too. Jane feels she's looking forward to "something pleasant; not perhaps that day or that month, but at an indefinite future period" (p. 117). And then when Jane sees all the old furniture in some of the bedrooms on the third story, she says they make Thornfield Hall seem like "a shrine of memory" (p. 125). Or perhaps a place to contain and lock away memories?
And here comes the Gothic Creepiness again -- Jane asking about ghosts, Mrs. Fairfax admitting the Rochesters "have been rather a violent than a quiet race" (p. 126), and then that "distinct, formal, mirthless" laugh that Jane says was "as tragic, as preternatural a laugh as any I ever heard" (p. 127). But the laugh gets attributed to Grace Poole, as unromantic and unghostly a person as Jane can imagine. Still, Mrs. Fairfax cryptically rebukes her with "Remember directions!" (p. 127). Ahhhh, something weird is going on here.
But Adele's hungry, and it's lunchtime, so never mind the creep factor, huh?
Oh! Does your copy have translations for the French? If not, try this page for some illumination.
Favorite Lines:
"I will do my best -- it is a pity that doing one's best does not always answer" (p. 112).
"A child makes a house alive all at once" (p. 115).
Possible Discussion Questions:
Does Adele annoy you? Do you feel sorry for her? Do you not care about her much one way or the other?
I'm finally continuing my series of posts on books that I feel are essential for my kids to read, or at least try. My list for Junior Fiction is here, and I intend to do lists of picture books, early readers, and YA in the future, as I have time.
This list is of what I think of as "Middle-Grade Fiction," books aimed at kids around ages 11-14. Obviously, some kids might be ready for this level before age 11, and continue to enjoy these after they're older than 14. I've read some of these aloud to my 4-, 6-, and 8-year-olds and they understood them well enough. But 11-14 is the age group I think of as being ready for these, as regards to both reading level and emotional maturity.
Once again, this is entirely based on my own reading experiences and what I think my kids will be ready for in a few years. I like most of these enough to own a copy.
Across Five Aprils and Up a Road Slowly by Irene Hunt
Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Anne of Green Gables and the entire series by L. M. Montgomery
The Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare
The Door in the Wall by Marguerite d'Angeli
The Story of Doctor Dolittle by Hugh Lofting (I liked several books in the series)
The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney
The Hound of the Baskervilles and the other Sherlock Holmes stories by A. Conan Doyle
Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell (and so many of his books are amazing!)
A Light in the Forest by Conrad Richter
The Little House in the Big Woods and the rest of the series by Laura Ingalls Wilder
A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Mother-Daughter Book Club and the rest of the series by Heather Vogel Frederick (though the kids age, so the rest of the series is aimed more at teens)
My Friend Flicka by Mary O'Hara
My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George (and the sequels are worth a read too)
Old Yeller by Fred Gipson
Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson (and the whole series is fun)
Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter
Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm by Kate Douglas Wiggin
The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Sign of the Beaver by Elizabeth George Speare
The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin
The Wheel on the School by Meindert DeJong
Where the Lilies Bloom by Bill and Vera Cleaver
Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare
The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
There are sooooooo many good books for this age range, and I'm probably forgetting some I love. But these are all such wonderful books, aren't they?
Do you have any recommendations for this age group? I'm always looking for more good books!
We're leaving Lowood! We're leaving Lowood! La la la la la la!
I love those "gentlemen of rather more enlarged and sympathizing minds" (p. 99) who put an end to Mr. Brocklehurst's tyrannical, hypocritical rule at Lowood, don't you? I'm very fond of people who can "combine reason with strictness, comfort with economy, compassion with uprightness (p. 99). Come to think of it, that rather describes the person I'm always striving to be.
Miss Temple married "a clergyman, an excellent man" (p. 100). Charlotte Bronte's father was a clergyman, and she eventually married his curate. But she also declined an offer of marriage from another clergyman, insisting she was unsuited to the role of his wife. (Read more here.) I don't actually have any insights to offer here, just the observation of the role of the clergy in Bronte's life and in Jane's. A clergyman takes away Jane's beloved teacher and friend, and later another clergyman will seek to take Jane away from England and everyone she knows (and loves).
Once Miss Temple is gone, Jane desires to leave. First, she prays for liberty, but feels it's out of her reach, so then she prays for change. That seems too much too, so finally she begs for a new place to be useful. And that request is granted, though she seems to credit "a kind fairy" (p. 103) for the answer to how she can do that, rather than God answering her prayer.
And before she leaves Lowood, she gets a quick visit from Bessie, a link to the childhood that she is leaving behind. I find it so sweet that Bessie named her daughter Jane. She also brings news of Jane's cousins, none of whom seem to be doing very well in life. And while she doesn't think Jane has turned out to be very pretty, she does think she's genteel and ladylike and accomplished, which is something. She also brings the news that Jane has an uncle who is in the wine business, looks like a gentleman, and is now in Madeira. I must admit that I had totally forgotten Bessie brought that news of Jane's Uncle Eyre here -- it's been too long since I read these first ten chapters!
Favorite Lines:
I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go forth into its expanse to seek real knowledge of life amid its perils (p. 101).
Possible Discussion Questions:
When Jane's trying to figure out how to find a new place to teach, she sits up in bed "by way of arousing this said brain" (p. 102). Do you find that physical motion or activity also stimulates your brain?
Jane says that until Miss Temple left, she had believed she was content (p. 100). But now she isn't. Is there a difference between believing you're content and actually being so? How can a person be sure they really are content? Is contentment something people even strive for much anymore? Do you?
Holy semicolons, Batman!
Anyway, this starts out cheerfully -- spring is here, Jane isn't frozen half the time, and she gets to roam around pretty flower gardens and the woods! But then we learn that all is not cheerful -- "forty-five out of the eighty girls lay ill at one time" (p. 91). Good heavens. Places like Lowood, with too little food and too many people crammed into unhealthy living quarters, must have been regularly devastated by disease, don't you think? Poor things.
Still, for Jane, life is looking up. More food, more freedom, and another new friend. And while Helen Burns' death obviously makes Jane sad, at the same time, I feel like she's relieved that her friend can be at peace now.
Favorite Lines:
Sometimes, on a sunny day, it began even to be pleasant and genial; and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps (p. 90).
Lowood shook loose its tresses; it became all green, all flowery... (p. 91).
My favorite seat was a smooth and broad stone, rising white and dry from the very middle of the beck, and only to be got at by wading through the water -- a feat I accomplished barefoot (p. 92).
Possible Discussion Questions:
If Helen Burns had lived, if she'd just had typhoid instead of tuberculosis, what do you think her life would be like?
Bronte makes no mention of Christ in the discussion between Helen and Jane about heaven. Helen's philosophy of "God is my father; God is my friend; I love him; I believe he loves me" (p. 97) strikes me as hollow, I must admit. How would including the Gospel message of being saved by grace through faith have changed the emphasis of this chapter's ending? Would it have changed Jane's reaction to Helen's death?
The prompt for this month's Inkling Explorations link-up is "Roses in book or film." And I'm going to do something very different this month. I'm going to share an excerpt of my own writing, namely, a passage from "The Man on the Buckskin Horse." Actually, my original title for my western retelling of the Sleeping Beauty story was "The Rose-Covered Cabin," but it got changed to something more distinctly western-y when it won a spot in the Five Magic Spindles anthology.
Anyway!!! Here's the excerpt:
I have long considered the Owenses' little place the prettiest this side of the Platte River. The cabin rests at the bottom of a small depression in the land, right along a reliable stream bordered by cottonwoods and such. I remember how poor Juliet brought roses with her from back East, bundle after bundle of dead-looking sticks so far as I could see. But somehow she coaxed them to grow around her new little home. I'm grateful she lived long enough to see the way they flourished, how they climbed up the walls clear to the roof and on over it. When those roses are in bloom, you couldn't paint a nicer picture, and their scent more than masks what you'll smell if the sheep are pastured nearby. I suspect that might be one reason Juliet planted so many of them.
I am so excited about this book getting released! Only a month to wait now -- July 22 is the official date, though you can preorder it (paperback and Kindle editions) from Amazon now. This is my first time winning a major contest, and the first time my fiction will be for sale in a real book, which makes it all even more thrilling. The Kindle version was in the top 100 for fantasy anthologies a couple of days ago, and it hasn't even been released yet!
Don't forget to visit Heidi's blog, Sharing the Journey, to find links to all the others who participated this month, and to join in yourself if you so desire!
You most likely know by now that Raymond Chandler is my favorite author. I go into occasional rhapsodies about his startlingly delightful writing style. I've reviewed several of his novels here. I mention him a lot.
But I really didn't know much about him before now. I knew a few things, like that he grew up in England. And that he wrote some screenplays. That was about it.
I must admit that I shy away from biographies of people whose work I really admire. I'm afraid that I'll learn something about them that will taint the way I view their creative work, be it books or movies or songs or whatever, and then I'll never be able to enjoy those things again.
However, the subtitle here, "In His Own Words," made me feel like this might not shatter my love of his writing. And happily, I was right! Editor Barry Day provides a basic framework and the connective explanations needed to make this coherent, but 95% of the words in this book are Chandler's not Day's. Through them, we begin to see a deeply unhappy man who never found as much acceptance or approval as he craved, but who stubbornly insisted on writing and living his own way anyway. I can respect him for that.
Particularly Good Bits:
In retrospect one can see that from the outset Marlowe had a dimension that Spade and the others lacked. He was a realist instead of a cynic, and he was cursed with a brand of idealism that would draw him irresistibly down the meanest of mean streets (p. 48).
If This Was a Movie, I Would Rate It: PG-13 for occasional language, discussion of some of Chandler's less savory story elements, and lots of alcohol use.
Finally, finally, light enters the story. Whew!
Which is not to say that everything is going to be sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the book. There will be more unhappiness, I'm afraid -- of such is drama made. Stories where everything goes well are boring, right? (I need to remember that more often in my own writing. My inclination is to make things easy and happy for my characters, but then there's no real story!) Still, it's nice that the unremittingly awful part of her childhood has passed.
Anyway, chapter eight begins dismally enough, with Jane face-down on the floor, crying, feeling "crushed and trodden on" (p. 82). But in comes Helen Burns with food and cheer (and coffee). Jane doesn't want the food, but she is overjoyed to learn that most of the people at Lowood don't like or respect Mr. Brocklehurst and are not inclined to believe him. What comfort!
And then Miss Temple takes both girls to her own quarters which look, if you can believe it, cheerful! Something cheerful within Lowood! There is hope for the future. In fact, after some nice food and listening to Miss Temple and Helen Burns talk intelligently about things, Jane even gets a hug! By the end of the chapter, she says, "I would not now have exchanged Lowood, with all its privations, for Gateshead and its daily luxuries" (p. 89). What a difference some friends, the approval of her teachers, and the discovery of a talent for artwork have made!
Favorite Lines:
Then her soul sat on her lips, and language flowed, from what source I cannot tell (p. 87).
...they spoke of books; how many they had read! What stores of knowledge they possessed! (p. 88).
Possible Discussion Questions:
Jane says, "if others don't love me, I would rather die than live -- I cannot bear to be solitary and hated." Do you agree with Helen that Jane thinks "too much of the love of human beings" (p. 83)?
Jane feared having Mr. Brocklehurst denounce her as a liar because she thought it would make her classmates and teachers despise her. Instead, it has the opposite effect. Does this strike you as being realistic or overly convenient?
