Villette [Paperback]

This novel is gothic, romantic and realistic, set in a biblical and mythical framework. There are ghosts and shadows, death and grieving, practical jokes and dry wit. To put in plainly, this is one of the best books I have ever read. Much much better and more mature than Jane Eyre.

Her novel VILLETTE is almost wholly the story of an evolution - a remarkable enlightening, filled with the inner vivid color of one individual human soul. The reader follows that soul past loss of family and fortune during childhood, afterwards making its way over the English Channel to a position earning bread in a school for girls. While in this position, said soul must confront invasive jealousy, intense debilitating loneliness, self-absorbed and egotistic friendship, passion for a suitor out of reach, the alarm of ghostly spectres, and the pristine touch of unconditional love.

Initially I must say that Lucy Snow, confoundedly endearing heroine of VILLETTE, is no Jane Eyre: No. Not by any stretch of the imagination. She is, in many ways, quite the opposite. Lucy radically refrains wherein Jane restlessly yearns; Lucy's narration is demure and reticent, while Jane's is warm and open; in turn, the mettle of their respective heroes reflects sharp contrast as well: underneath surface fallibilities, Lucy's is painstakingly unveiled as a most pure moralistic ideal, whereas Jane's is possessed of ominous, deep-seated flaws despite a desperate heart of gold. Fate and providence, too, share sharply divergent roles in these two stories. Hence it must without further ado be disclosed that Charlotte Bronte's final novel was, overall, for me an arduous task to read. Indeed it was! - But I do say this in the very best sense of that word.

Critically, I must say it was a challenge because of the overwhelming amount of French dialogue. I realize that French was to some degree a universal language in Victorian England -quite fluently deciphered, read and spoken amongst the educated population...so I cannot on that note accuse the author of prosaic snobbery. However, as an American in the 21st century, I cannot deny that my tentative knowledge of the French language to some extent limited my absorption of the dialogue. However, this was only a small disadvantage - as I believe the gist is still there despite all.

Moreover, Lucy has an alluring, yet baffling personality- I love her, but cannot for the life of me understand her. This tale is more of an inwardly emotional journey than anything eventfully climaxing or epically engaging. Plot-wise, this merely treks the path of a young English woman completely alone in the world gaining her livelihood in a girls' school on the European continent. Affecting the treads of that path are those, come by choice or obligation, closest to her: her voyeuristic employer Madame Beck, friends - privileged & affectionate childhood companion Polly and vain & frivolous fellow student Ginerva - the handsome & winsome Dr. John, and temperamental & eccentric professor M. Paul. It's truly an inward journey- a seeking and finding of one's own identity: the heroine - enthralled in a life as outwardly oppressive as it is inwardly rich - is undeniably endearing, her story wrought with so many sparkles of pain, so few of bliss.

Without doubt, the hand of providence - of God - is omnipresent in JANE EYRE. In VILLETTE, it is conspicuously absent. For me, to elaborate on this point would take thousands of more words - words which I am, fortunately, too lazy to write right now. I can only say that, after reading both novels, one may be able to see this point as glaringly apparent.

Though my love for VILLETTE is nowhere near so great as my love for JANE EYRE, I must allow that it is in certain respects a greater literary achievement for Charlotte Bronte. The writing herein persistently touches genius, and the characters are meticulously drawn and unforsakenly human.