Review: Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte

I don't normally review classics, but here goes.

Here in the US, I'm fairly sure the works of the Bronte sisters are commonly dubbed as required reading alongside other classics, and for this reason are unjustly spared with naught but a single glance by young adult readers.

After being recommended this novel several times, I decided to give it a try. It hadn't yet been assigned for my English class as of yet, thankfully, so I was able to read the novel without outside force or the fright of a looming reading test. I read it at my own pace, with no pressure whatsoever.

And you know what? I'm so glad I caught the book before it was assigned for school. I was able to drown in the beauty of Charlotte Bronte's writing and gain the acquaintance of the wonderful protagonist, Jane Eyre (who is, ahem, my bestie). I swooned at Mr. Rochester and highlighted passages (something I NEVER do) and stayed up through the night discreetly turning the pages. 

Some may complain of the pages upon pages of descriptions. I didn't love it - I adored it. Bronte's writing style is unbeatable in so many ways and kept me enthralled when the plot meandered. 

I have found a favorite novel. Words cannot do this novel justice - and I say this without caring whether or not it is cliched because it is so utterly true.