Tale of Woe

COMMENTARY

Junior High Eight Grade English Class. I loved this particular class because my English teacher Mrs. B loved books and reading. I can distinctly remember her having a bookcase in class that extended the lower part of the left wall. In it paperbacks from the 1960s to what was the present, the 1990s; some were tattered and weathered but they seemed to her like treasures with hidden secrets. I admired so much her collection of books, that ever since, I started my own paperback collection that is ever growing with books of Evelyn Waugh, Lester Bangs, and Alan Moore.

The time had come for us to write a book report on a historical novel. I chose “Wuthering Heights” merely because of the cover, with its psychedelic cover of purples and greens with two lovers made of stained glass holding hands. I still remember the publishing of that book being 1968. I can only remember the basic plot and the knowing of the name Heathcliff but it had brought the Bronte sisters into my world. And until this day, I have not read any other book from the Bronte sisters. All this may change soon.

Whenever I see a good movie that to me, speaks into the depths of my soul, I immediately feel ethereal and happy and then a day or so later complete deep depression and melancholy takes over.  This happened to me recently when I saw the 2011 adaptation of the Charlotte Bronte novel “Jane Eyre” directed by Cary Fukunaga.  I had never read the novel and never knew what the plot was about and the trailer made it seem like a scary gothic love story.  Watching the film I became enthralled on the character of Jane Eyre and her harsh life shown through her face, traces of never knowing happiness in her life. Her wall of protection from cruelty begins to break as she starts feeling something towards the byronic Mr. Rochester with his simple gestures such as putting a flower in her hair and lingering stares, she never budges, never shows any emotion and even when she realizes that someone loves her in her life, she shows sentiment but cannot believe it and thinks it unreal. Enchanted throughout the film, I must admit I even cried at the ending.  I think I swooned a couple of times and loved the wonderful romance of the film, it reminded me of another book that I had read, the ever wonderful “Pride and Prejudice.”  A couple of days passed and the depression loomed in, a gloominess I’m sure “Jane Eyre” and “Pride and Prejudice” fans can relate to. And the source of that gloom was that  I want THAT kind of romance, like in “Jane Eyre” simple gestures that shudder souls such as hand holding, stolen kisses in a meadow, discussions on subordination, (okay maybe not that), but walks in the park and declarations of love and kisses while the wind blows around you.  And the depression looms still because I know that type of romance truly does not exist anymore. Sure, we can dive deep into our Austen and Bronte but sooner or later, we’re gonna have to go back for air, polluted air it might be, but how else are we gonna live?  But must text messages with symbols on it be signs of romantic gestures?

Note: For Jane Eyre fans, I would do what Jane Eyre does in the book and film, particularly in that scene, if you know what I mean (wink wink.) No matter how much it hurt.