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jenkepesh 's review for:
Mr. Rochester
by Sarah Shoemaker
Books that are written from the perspective of a secondary character in a classic novel abound. But most of them have titles with the word "wife" or "daughter" or "widow" in them. Choosing to write a first-person narrative about Rochester is a daring move, and to write it in first-person narrative is to dare comparison to Bronte. Shoemaker does very well with this novel. It is compelling enough in its own right, and that must be the test, I think. Rochester's story is fascinating, poignant. His choices, which often seem thoughtless or arbitrary or cruel in Jane Eyre are much more understandable in Mr. Rochester.
I think this is a book that those who appreciate Jane Eyre will also appreciate. It widens the perspective and allows the reader to live in that world as one does in Jane Eyre.
It is interesting to me that each of these books has the same flaw--that the love interest is something of a cipher. This is the difficulty of any book with such close perspective, and Shoemaker tries to overcome it by describing Jane's character through Rochester's judgment of her, which I think is less satisfying than if she did not have to contend with the original and could expand on Jane's actions and dialog. As it is, she hews closely to the original work, so that we only see Jane at the times she and Rochester's encounters are described in Jane Eyre. And his behavior during these scenes is still strange. What man would pretend to love one woman to woo another? It comes off just as awkwardly here.
What works particularly well in this book is delving into how a second son of gentry was treated in these times. I really liked the scenes of his education and apprenticeship, and of his difficulty in divining his father's intentions, blind to his father's character because it would hurt too much to understand it.
I think Shoemaker pulled her punches a bit in the section on slavery in Jamaica, perhaps afraid that a modern reader could no longer feel sympathy for a man running a plantation if we saw more closely what that entailed for the slaves.
I am of mixed minds about Rochester's treatment of Bertha, because I think that based on how Bertha is presented here (and in Jane Eyre, the choices the character makes are sensible and even humane--the answer to "Is Rochester a monstrous man?" (Except...he is, because of the slavery. But never mind....) On the other hand, as a psychologist, the presentation of Bertha makes no more sense here than it does in Jane Eyre,/i>. Clearly, Shoemaker is trying to make Bertha and her mother out to be schizophrenic, as it would be seen through 19th century understanding. But Bertha's behavior is not like that of schizophrenics, nor like that of any psychological disorder. This is the flaw from Brontë's imagination, and Shoemaker can't undo this easily. However, it's dealt with in a much more realistic (and also, feminist) way in The Wide Saragasso Sea.
I think this is a book that those who appreciate Jane Eyre will also appreciate. It widens the perspective and allows the reader to live in that world as one does in Jane Eyre.
It is interesting to me that each of these books has the same flaw--that the love interest is something of a cipher. This is the difficulty of any book with such close perspective, and Shoemaker tries to overcome it by describing Jane's character through Rochester's judgment of her, which I think is less satisfying than if she did not have to contend with the original and could expand on Jane's actions and dialog. As it is, she hews closely to the original work, so that we only see Jane at the times she and Rochester's encounters are described in Jane Eyre. And his behavior during these scenes is still strange. What man would pretend to love one woman to woo another? It comes off just as awkwardly here.
What works particularly well in this book is delving into how a second son of gentry was treated in these times. I really liked the scenes of his education and apprenticeship, and of his difficulty in divining his father's intentions, blind to his father's character because it would hurt too much to understand it.
I think Shoemaker pulled her punches a bit in the section on slavery in Jamaica, perhaps afraid that a modern reader could no longer feel sympathy for a man running a plantation if we saw more closely what that entailed for the slaves.
I am of mixed minds about Rochester's treatment of Bertha, because I think that based on how Bertha is presented here (and in Jane Eyre, the choices the character makes are sensible and even humane--the answer to "Is Rochester a monstrous man?" (Except...he is, because of the slavery. But never mind....) On the other hand, as a psychologist, the presentation of Bertha makes no more sense here than it does in Jane Eyre,/i>. Clearly, Shoemaker is trying to make Bertha and her mother out to be schizophrenic, as it would be seen through 19th century understanding. But Bertha's behavior is not like that of schizophrenics, nor like that of any psychological disorder. This is the flaw from Brontë's imagination, and Shoemaker can't undo this easily. However, it's dealt with in a much more realistic (and also, feminist) way in The Wide Saragasso Sea.