March 5, 2012

Good Monday. Somewhere off in the cold land, dogs drag people across the frozen ground. -11 here, so I am glad to be indoors. It was breezy over the weekend, making the cold colder.

We watched a pretty good BBC production of Charlotte Bronte’s novel Jane Eyre. The story opens with young orphan Jane telling off her mean aunt and being sent to an orphanage where the headmaster is a pious jerk. She grows up there from about 10 to about 20, then lands a job as a governess at a rambling English country house shaped like a bracket with two wings and three stories. Jane settles in tutoring the young girl Adele and dodging the eccentric behavior and advances of the imperious Lord Rochester, a middle-aged bachelor who was away when she arrived and comes back to make himself unpleasant ordering people around. Jane stands up to his bullying, which strikes his fancy, and he begins trying to make himself more agreeable toward her.

Meanwhile, Jane hears strange cries in the night from the supposedly vacant third floor. Someone seems to be wandering the halls at night. When she decides to investigate (Gothic novel in progress), she discovers Lord Rochester’s bedroom door open and flickering light! She looks in and sees his bed curtains are on fire while he sleeps. She wakens him, saving his life, he eventually proposes, etc.

But there is a problem that only becomes apparent on their wedding day, which is postponed. Jane goes away, collapses on the heath in a storm, is rescued by a young gentleman whose sister nurses Jane back to health. The young gentleman proposes, but there is a problem. From there the story takes its inevitable way to what the author thought was a happy ending. Pretty good costumes and sets, good acting, worth a couple of hours to be entertained.

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