Women -- Biography; Women -- Social and moral questions
The style of Currer Bell is one which will reward study for its own
sake. Its tone may be somewhat too uniform, its balance and cadence too
unvaried. Perhaps, also, there is too much of the abruptness of
passion. It is certainly inferior to many styles, so far as the crimson
and gold of literature are concerned. But there is no writer with whom
we are acquainted, more deserving of praise for clearness, pointedness,
and force. Would that any word of ours could recall the numerous
admirers of morbid magnificence and barbarous dissonance, affected
jargon and fantastic verbiage, laboured antithesis and false
brilliance, and induce them to read night and day the novels of Currer
Bell, for the sake of their style. In “Jane Eyre,” her most powerful
work, published in October, 1847, it must be admitted that female
delicacy is somewhat outraged; but its specimens of picturesque,
resolute, straightforward writing, enable this tale to take a high
place in the field of romantic literature.
Currer Bell’s love of nature was remarkable. A Yorkshire moor is for
the most part wild and grotesque, but her eye brims with a “purple
light,” intense enough to perpetuate the brief flower-flush of August
on the heather, or the rare sunset smile of June. We might quote in
illustration of these remarks, pictures of nature, so detailed,
definite, and fresh, that they give us an assurance as of eyesight.
Take the following bit of woodland painting from “Shirley,” published
in October, 1849: “I know all the pleasantest spots: I know where we
could get nuts in nutting time; I know where wild strawberries abound;
I know certain lonely, quite untrodden glades, carpeted with strange
mosses, some yellow as if gilded, some sober grey, some gem green. I
know groups of trees that ravish the eye with their perfect
picture-like effects: rude oak, delicate birch, glossy beech, clustered
in contrast; and ash trees stately as Saul, standing isolated, and
superannuated wood giants clad in bright shrouds of ivy.” Many similar,
and even superior passages might be cited from this brilliant novel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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