#19: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
When I was in college, I took five semesters of Spanish. I was not very good at it but for some reason, after every class, I unintentionally thought in Spanish for about half an hour. Jane Eyre had a similar effect on me because even if I read just a few pages at a time, my afternoon would be spent thinking in an English language of a different time and place. I have to say, also, that I loved it. Jane is a heroine to many and I can now see why. She is true to herself and her own feelings, something I (and I am sure plenty of others) struggle to do on a daily basis.
I mentioned at the end of a review several months ago that I had noticed many books being named after a woman but somehow referring to them as someone else’s possession. Charlotte Brontë rightfully named the book Jane Eyre because it is about her and nothing else. Maybe modern writers need to reflect on the way female protagonists were honored in the past and start doing the same for the wonderful characters they also create. The world is full of rich and whimsical novels such as this, but it is my wish that other women who read them now may be fully be aware of power that is within them. Jane made a lasting impression on me, her story sometimes reading as a mystery or play, and it will continue to make me think in a beautiful language of creativity and hope.