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kevin_shepherd 's review for:
Great Expectations
by Charles Dickens
“Heav'n has no rage, like love to hatred turn'd, nor hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd” ~William Congreve, 1697
The gothic aberration that is Miss Havisham is, for me, the real catalyst of all that is wickedly wonderful about Great Expectations. The imagery of a decrepit old woman wondering about a dilapidated old mansion, in a moldering old wedding dress, is the epitome of despondency and despair. Who hasn’t had their heart broken at some point in their lives and thought, if only briefly, “from this I will never recover...”? Havisham is the passing made permanent. She is that train wreck that garners crowds of onlookers; a walking, talking, what-the-f*ck of humanity. I am in love.
The gothic aberration that is Miss Havisham is, for me, the real catalyst of all that is wickedly wonderful about Great Expectations. The imagery of a decrepit old woman wondering about a dilapidated old mansion, in a moldering old wedding dress, is the epitome of despondency and despair. Who hasn’t had their heart broken at some point in their lives and thought, if only briefly, “from this I will never recover...”? Havisham is the passing made permanent. She is that train wreck that garners crowds of onlookers; a walking, talking, what-the-f*ck of humanity. I am in love.