Villette

In chapter four, there is stage whispering. I can't handle whispers, due to auditory sensory issues. I have to pause every few seconds, and leave it be for several days, and then I forget what happens. It's really bad, whispers.

What drugs did Charlotte have access to in Brussels and how often was she high out of her mind?!?

I know I'm a selfish reader, but this book took more out of me than it could ever give back.
Maybe it's my fault for constantly returning to books that take me through so much emotional turmoil but always at the end of them, I await (and get) my gratification. The moment where our heroine says “reader, I married him,” and you pause for a moment, close your eyes and smile because, despite the hardship, all is well. This book was anything but.

I can't tell whether I should commend Lucy for having such a steadfast spirit or pity her for the way that steadfastness was more often than not, simply some form of hopeless self-restraint. It was her (perhaps rightful) cynicism that I struggled with the most. Hers was a character to accept all forms of torment as her cross to bear in this life. Never asking or hoping for anything more. There was not one time she did not resolutely drink her cup down to the dregs. I could not but grieve as I watched.

Charlotte Brontë has this way of painting a perfect picture of reticence, but with Lucy, it becomes so difficult because she shies away from you just as much as she does the others. I finished the book less than an hour ago and I could tell you more about any other character than I could her. She's a withdrawn, doleful little creature that you want to love but aren't allowed to. She assumes you won't care.

Can you blame Lucy for her inability to trust or receive love? Is it wrong to think she should yet hope? I really don't know and truthfully, I don't think she knows either.

4 stars because it hurt my heart and 500 pages of that is too much. Most passages are highlighted though so I will at least give Villette that

2.5

Charlotte Bronte is one of my favourite authors but this kinda...

I'll re-read in the future since my mind was kinda absent when reading this !

also the audiobook was hilarious. heads up to audiobook casters, don't get non-french people to speak English in a French accent wtf it made me cry laughing
“hewwo Lucy, i wove you uwu” it sounded like that

Finales de otras épocas

Este libro, de otra época describe fielmente lo que la literatura contemporánea a cambiado, el amor platónico sin necesidad de piel, es tan fuerte e inspirador que deleita su lectura.

2.5

Full chapters in half a thousand pages aggravatingly steeped in Christian patriarchy, with moderate compensation in a playfulness of language. Lucy must perform for and soothe a domineering, needling, petty, and creepily hovering M. Emanuel, who at a switch is transformed into her life's hero.

I didn't really like this book. A bit preachy, overwritten in places, and too long for the story.

Slightly less lonely
Lucy's life improves abroad
despite some heartbreak.

This was quite a fascinating book. I loved it at the beginning and then had a really hard time getting through the second half. Brontë's language is beautiful, her narrative voice did some magic on me. There was a scene where the protagonist of the book, Lucy Snowe, catches and secretly watches her employer, Madame Beck, slowly and very very meticulously go through her belongings. Reading this nearly gave me an ASMR experience!

The novel partially feels like an experiment to Brontë. Her narrator is unreliable, omitting or concealing details, mainly about her own feelings. It takes a while for you to figure this out, but once you do, you got to admire it. What made it then hard to plough through is that the narrator meanders quite a bit in the second half, dropping characters and story lines or goes off on tangents about church and human nature.

What I also loved was the mixing of French dialogue into the English. Not enough to annoy a non-French speaker, but more than you would think. The life-like and intimate portrayal of the characters was also quite perfect. Brontë has a good eye and gave Lucy a good eye too. I especially felt the characterization and the teasing relationship between Lucy and Ginevra Fanshawe highly entertaining.

No one writes characters like Bronte does. Not only does she create the magnificent (self?) portrait of Lucy Snowe–so passionate, so suppressed, so misunderstood–she also creates a fully fleshed out cast of strange, lovable (or not) characters. This is a beautiful book but do not undertake it lightly. Two and a half months after starting it, I'm just now crawling to the finish. 5 stars for my lovely Lucy but like two stars for the pathetic last page and like for all the parts spent examining the infinitely boring Dr. Graham. Bleh.