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parker_beyers 's review for:
Villette
by Charlotte Brontë
"Of course, happiness of such shallow origin could be but brief; yet, while it lasted it was genuine and exquisite."
Anyone know how to read French? Asking for a friend.
[b: Villette|31173|Villette|Charlotte Brontë|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1320412741l/31173._SY75_.jpg|40852693] is another firm reminder that the Brontë writing genes reign supreme. Charlotte's stories are tragically beautiful and her prose is haunting. Whenever I read her books, I feel like dramatically staring out a window and lamenting my prospects as a young woman while a storm brews outside. That's a good thing. I live for the melancholy.
Lucy Snowe is a puzzle of a protagonist, but that's what makes her so intriguing. She hides secrets from the reader, unable to trust anyone with the truth of her feelings. She's an incredible roaster too. I never thought I would be laughing out loud while reading a 500-page Brontë angst-fest, but here we are.
The ending will stick with me for a while. For all its ambiguity, there's something oddly comforting about the message Brontë sends. We're not immune to life's suffering, for however much we love and devote ourselves to a cause and/or person. Rarely are we rewarded with the happiness we think we deserve. Yet, there's power in those emotions. We as humans are capable of feeling deeply, and that means we'll live emotionally rich lives, even if they're difficult to make through.
Anyone know how to read French? Asking for a friend.
[b: Villette|31173|Villette|Charlotte Brontë|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1320412741l/31173._SY75_.jpg|40852693] is another firm reminder that the Brontë writing genes reign supreme. Charlotte's stories are tragically beautiful and her prose is haunting. Whenever I read her books, I feel like dramatically staring out a window and lamenting my prospects as a young woman while a storm brews outside. That's a good thing. I live for the melancholy.
Lucy Snowe is a puzzle of a protagonist, but that's what makes her so intriguing. She hides secrets from the reader, unable to trust anyone with the truth of her feelings. She's an incredible roaster too. I never thought I would be laughing out loud while reading a 500-page Brontë angst-fest, but here we are.
The ending will stick with me for a while. For all its ambiguity, there's something oddly comforting about the message Brontë sends. We're not immune to life's suffering, for however much we love and devote ourselves to a cause and/or person. Rarely are we rewarded with the happiness we think we deserve. Yet, there's power in those emotions. We as humans are capable of feeling deeply, and that means we'll live emotionally rich lives, even if they're difficult to make through.