Posts tagged Charlotte Brontë
I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and should have shunned them as one would fire, lightning, or anything else that is bright but antipathetic.
‘I cannot see my prospects clearly to-night, sir; and I hardly know what thoughts I have in my head. Everything in life seems unreal.’
‘Except me: I am substantial enough - touch me.’
‘You, sir, are the most phantom-like of all: you are a mere dream.’
Artist Statement: Houses of Fiction
‘Whether domestic spaces are depicted as places of confinement or refuge, the private sphere is an evident preoccupation for many nineteenth-century female writers. Often a reflection of women’s ‘place’ in society, the stories depicted in this series demonstrate the metaphorical and literal significance of space. Borrowing partially from literary criticism, this series attempts to synthesize ideas and images through the process of interpretation and adaptation. In each of the five selected stories conventional notions of womanhood are undermined, inciting conflict and eventually ‘madness’ - this tension is implicit in each of the narratives examined.
The dichotomous representation of women - mad or sane - is crucial to represent in this series. Therefore, each story is presented as a diptych: one image represents the passive, subservient woman, while the other image represents ‘madness’. The first image is literal and based on the emphatic description of space in the individual stories. Alternatively, the representation of the maddening consequence of confinement.
Reserved people often really need the frank discussion of their sentiments and griefs more than the expansive. The sternest-seeming stoic is human after all; and to “burst” with boldness and good-will into “the silent sea” of their souls is often to confer on them the first of obligations.
MY FEELINGS. I’m here and I just hkjefuhdsfmnbfh, so so perfect! I’m totally in love with Edward Fairfax Rochester! I ship it. I ship everything in this book. Can I ship Pilot and Carlo?
At first I was sad, then it turn out happy with Helen, then I was sad again, and again, and again, and then happy things happen. But fuck, this book was really written by Charlotte Brontë?! Sure it wasn’t Moffat?
Great. Extraordinary. Amazing. And… and…
I have to watch the movie right now. Where can I find it? Oh, and, what’s the name of this shipping? Janedward? Janward? Oh, god, there must be a fandom out there! Here I come!
Laws and principles are not for times when there is no temptation: they are for moments like this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth?
oh god i cry so hard every time i read jane and mr. rochester’s love confessing scene
he’s like ‘hey i’m gonna marry miss ingram LOLJK I’M BEING MOFFAT ALL UP IN HERE I REALLY LOVE YOU TROLOLOL’
and she’s just not able to believe it
and it…just…all the feels, man.
all the feels.
‘…Do you know where the wicked go after death?’
‘They go to hell,’ was my ready and orthodox answer.
‘And what is hell? Can you tell me that?’
‘A pit full of fire.’
‘And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?’
‘What must you do to avoid it?’
I deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable. ‘I must keep in good health, and not die.’