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A review by laurenjpegler
Shirley by Charlotte Brontë
5.0
“If men could see us as we really are, they would be a little amazed; but the cleverest, the acutest men are often under an illusion about women: they do not read them in a true light: they misapprehend them, both for good and evil: their good woman is a queer thing, half doll, half angel; their bad woman almost always a fiend.”
The end is here; I have finally finished reading all of Charlotte Brontë’s novels. I can’t quite believe the time has come, but it’s about time! Fortunately, I saved the best ‘til last – Shirley.
Shirley is a remarkable social novel; Charlotte takes a step back from her Romantic side to channel her inner-Realist side. She illustrates real life by setting the novel in Yorkshire during the early nineteenth-century when machinery was taking over the role of men in factories. Charlotte captures the Luddite uprising – where Yorkshiremen rioted, raided factories/mills, stole machinery and tried to commit murder in order to rebel against this growing industry. Not only this, but she illuminated the hardships working-class families faced when they lost their jobs to machinery. However, this is just the backdrop to the story. Around a hundred pages in, the plot diverts to a blossoming friendship between the orphan Caroline Helstone and the estate owner Shirley Keeldar. It’s here where Charlotte’s thoughtful and deep explorations of society pop up – through these women we see a deep psychological observation of loss and love, as well as the constant challenging of female conventionality.
This book quickly became one of my favourites – I might even go as far as to say it’s just as good as Jane Eyre. In both these novels Charlotte takes a proto-feminist approach to society, doing so through interestingly strong-willed and independent female characters. Through Shirley – my favourite character – Charlotte manages to challenge the social conventions of femininity through something as simple as a name. Typically, Shirley was either a surname or a male’s forename, yet she was assigned it because her parents expected to have a boy. Unexpectedly, this name allows her to escape the confinements of femininity by performing conventionally male jobs of the time.
Thankfully, the challenging of social conventions doesn’t stop there; Charlotte also explores it magnificently through Caroline. Her oppressive uncle pays her no attention, restricts her from seeking it from of her cousins and won’t allow her to make her own life as a governess, and thus leading her to have a breakdown. The only resolution is through her newly formed friendship with Shirley. Charlotte depicts a deeply moving connection between these two characters, which is not only empowering but also endearing to read about. I feel like this kind of relationship between women is sorely missing from nineteenth-century novels, yet Charlotte almost makes it seem easy to include. It seems natural, not forced, which I think made the story even sweeter to me.
My favourite thing about Caroline is her frequent outburst of feminism – she calls out the double standards between men and women, stating that women are made for more than just household chores. They could be make her own living through working as a governess, yet men still dictate whether they can or not. Shirley is a catalyst to these outbursts – she becomes more outspoken and independent through her new friendship. I was thrilled about her ending – she truly deserved happiness, and if that was in the form of Robert Moore, who was I to argue?
Taking a step back from her writing style, the narrative was equally as brilliant. I liked the realistic backdrop to the story – it was particularly interesting because it was so close to home. Although she wasn’t born when the Luddites were uprising in Yorkshire, the town still probably felt the aftermath of it for quite some time, especially as the industrial revolution started to take over. Charlotte went the extra mile with this story by looking into cases from the Leeds Mercury newspaper. Through this, she was able to capture the true essence of the time and place, thus making the story even more powerful. When depicting this situation, Charlotte doesn’t seem to sympathise with either party. Her unbiased opinion allows us – as modern readers – to determine our own feelings; did we side with the mill owners? Or the working-class? Who did we feel most sorry for? It was left completely up to us.
Running alongside this plot was not one, but two love stories – which thankfully didn’t take away from the Realistic elements of the story. Initially, the love interest was between the two cousins Caroline and Robert – this was, of course, before Shirley came into the picture. But to whose Shirley’s devotion is directed at we’re left guessing for most of the novel. It isn’t until the third volume that we find out she’s faithful to her tutor – and Robert’s brother – Louis. I liked this relationship; it’s scandalous.
Altogether this was a brilliant novel. It’s definitely become one of my favourites, and for that I had to rate it 5 stars. Charlotte is witty, radical (when she wants to be) and writes a bloody good novel. It’s upsetting that I’ve finished reading all her novels, but I’m excited to start writing my 8,000 word dissertation on her. I’ll be reliving all these stories through my own eyes, allowing me the chance to appreciate Charlotte in a whole new light.
The end is here; I have finally finished reading all of Charlotte Brontë’s novels. I can’t quite believe the time has come, but it’s about time! Fortunately, I saved the best ‘til last – Shirley.
Shirley is a remarkable social novel; Charlotte takes a step back from her Romantic side to channel her inner-Realist side. She illustrates real life by setting the novel in Yorkshire during the early nineteenth-century when machinery was taking over the role of men in factories. Charlotte captures the Luddite uprising – where Yorkshiremen rioted, raided factories/mills, stole machinery and tried to commit murder in order to rebel against this growing industry. Not only this, but she illuminated the hardships working-class families faced when they lost their jobs to machinery. However, this is just the backdrop to the story. Around a hundred pages in, the plot diverts to a blossoming friendship between the orphan Caroline Helstone and the estate owner Shirley Keeldar. It’s here where Charlotte’s thoughtful and deep explorations of society pop up – through these women we see a deep psychological observation of loss and love, as well as the constant challenging of female conventionality.
This book quickly became one of my favourites – I might even go as far as to say it’s just as good as Jane Eyre. In both these novels Charlotte takes a proto-feminist approach to society, doing so through interestingly strong-willed and independent female characters. Through Shirley – my favourite character – Charlotte manages to challenge the social conventions of femininity through something as simple as a name. Typically, Shirley was either a surname or a male’s forename, yet she was assigned it because her parents expected to have a boy. Unexpectedly, this name allows her to escape the confinements of femininity by performing conventionally male jobs of the time.
Thankfully, the challenging of social conventions doesn’t stop there; Charlotte also explores it magnificently through Caroline. Her oppressive uncle pays her no attention, restricts her from seeking it from of her cousins and won’t allow her to make her own life as a governess, and thus leading her to have a breakdown. The only resolution is through her newly formed friendship with Shirley. Charlotte depicts a deeply moving connection between these two characters, which is not only empowering but also endearing to read about. I feel like this kind of relationship between women is sorely missing from nineteenth-century novels, yet Charlotte almost makes it seem easy to include. It seems natural, not forced, which I think made the story even sweeter to me.
My favourite thing about Caroline is her frequent outburst of feminism – she calls out the double standards between men and women, stating that women are made for more than just household chores. They could be make her own living through working as a governess, yet men still dictate whether they can or not. Shirley is a catalyst to these outbursts – she becomes more outspoken and independent through her new friendship. I was thrilled about her ending – she truly deserved happiness, and if that was in the form of Robert Moore, who was I to argue?
Taking a step back from her writing style, the narrative was equally as brilliant. I liked the realistic backdrop to the story – it was particularly interesting because it was so close to home. Although she wasn’t born when the Luddites were uprising in Yorkshire, the town still probably felt the aftermath of it for quite some time, especially as the industrial revolution started to take over. Charlotte went the extra mile with this story by looking into cases from the Leeds Mercury newspaper. Through this, she was able to capture the true essence of the time and place, thus making the story even more powerful. When depicting this situation, Charlotte doesn’t seem to sympathise with either party. Her unbiased opinion allows us – as modern readers – to determine our own feelings; did we side with the mill owners? Or the working-class? Who did we feel most sorry for? It was left completely up to us.
Running alongside this plot was not one, but two love stories – which thankfully didn’t take away from the Realistic elements of the story. Initially, the love interest was between the two cousins Caroline and Robert – this was, of course, before Shirley came into the picture. But to whose Shirley’s devotion is directed at we’re left guessing for most of the novel. It isn’t until the third volume that we find out she’s faithful to her tutor – and Robert’s brother – Louis. I liked this relationship; it’s scandalous.
Altogether this was a brilliant novel. It’s definitely become one of my favourites, and for that I had to rate it 5 stars. Charlotte is witty, radical (when she wants to be) and writes a bloody good novel. It’s upsetting that I’ve finished reading all her novels, but I’m excited to start writing my 8,000 word dissertation on her. I’ll be reliving all these stories through my own eyes, allowing me the chance to appreciate Charlotte in a whole new light.