kyara28's review against another edition
4.0
I keep on loving Charlotte Brontë. Vilette again shows the life of a working woman, like Jane Eyre, but is totally different all the same. Sometimes it was a bit long-winded, mostly in the middle section, but over all it kept me entertained. I liked the half-open end, which I read again and again to fully understand what she wants to say to the reader with that last page.
lenaschwr_'s review against another edition
emotional
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
honestly such a sweet book
aprilhenrist's review
emotional
funny
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
this book can’t hurt me because I have a degradation kink and love being talked down to
rach_eb's review against another edition
5.0
I have a theory that Charlotte Brontë comes to me at moments in my life when I need her.
She came to me at 16 through Jane, sparking my consciousness of the feminism that was just beginning to stir inside me. And now, at 22, she comes to me again, bringing me Lucy Snowe.
Lucy is deceptive, cold, meek, and distrustful, characteristics that I would never attribute to myself. And yet, somehow, I related to this woman more than I have with any character recently. She's an English teacher in a foreign land, where she at first doesn't understand the language or the people around her. She experiences the anguish of loneliness and depression. She fights for independence. She struggles through and gives up a love that she know can never be, only to be still cheated of her happy ending. No more kind, loving Jane in this novel, but instead colder, older Lucy, a woman who forces you to examine your own psychology as much as hers.
This review is deeply personal and not a very good critique of the novel, I know. But this book has suddenly, surprisingly become extremely important to me, and this cannot but reflect in my review. I loved it. It drove me crazy, frustrated me, and upset me, but I loved it nevertheless. Charlotte Brontë's genius, deeply psychological examination of the woman's mind is ahead of its time and absolutely worth reading.
She came to me at 16 through Jane, sparking my consciousness of the feminism that was just beginning to stir inside me. And now, at 22, she comes to me again, bringing me Lucy Snowe.
Lucy is deceptive, cold, meek, and distrustful, characteristics that I would never attribute to myself. And yet, somehow, I related to this woman more than I have with any character recently. She's an English teacher in a foreign land, where she at first doesn't understand the language or the people around her. She experiences the anguish of loneliness and depression. She fights for independence. She struggles through and gives up a love that she know can never be, only to be still cheated of her happy ending. No more kind, loving Jane in this novel, but instead colder, older Lucy, a woman who forces you to examine your own psychology as much as hers.
This review is deeply personal and not a very good critique of the novel, I know. But this book has suddenly, surprisingly become extremely important to me, and this cannot but reflect in my review. I loved it. It drove me crazy, frustrated me, and upset me, but I loved it nevertheless. Charlotte Brontë's genius, deeply psychological examination of the woman's mind is ahead of its time and absolutely worth reading.
brooke_lynn1118's review against another edition
dark
hopeful
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
hanhaanhan's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
4.0
laurenjpegler's review against another edition
5.0
"No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure.”
This quote truly captures the essence of Villette; it’s a novel which evolves around the idea of the ‘individual’ – and this individual is set to go through a variety of emotions in life. They are governed by Reason and Feelings, to name but a few. Because of this Villette is – without a doubt – Brontë’s most sophisticated work. She draws on her own unhappy experiences of being a governess in Brussels to create a melancholy and depressing tale – it follows Lucy Snowe, who sets sail from the lonely England to the town of Villette, where she works at a girls’ boarding school. Even in this busy environment she is still isolated, thus leaving her to mental breakdowns and episodes of depression. As she struggles on through life, she also becomes infatuated with two men: the school’s doctor – Dr. John – and the dictatorial professor – Paul Emanuel. As Wordsworth Classics put it nicely: “rising above the frustrations of confinement within a rigid social order, it is also a story of a woman’s right to love and be loved”. It’s worth keeping this in mind when reading Villette, as it’s quite easy to lose track of the main focus.
If you were not to immerse yourself in this story fully, then you’ll be missing out on the best parts – those which make Villette so ground-breaking. To get the best out of it, you must read it from a psychological perspective. Charlotte is taking 500 pages to explore the self, and how one is prone to mental breakdowns (and illnesses) from things as simple as loneliness. She criticises those who state cultivating happiness is the cure for these things – no amount of fresh air, change of scenery or being around people can change this. We see the most distressing portrayal of this through the character of Lucy Snowe – at one point, her breakdown becomes so intense she (as a Protestant) seeks out a Catholic priest to confess all her sins and grievances to. It’s truly an overwhelming emotional story, one which opens your eyes to the invisible battle that constantly forges on in your mind.
I love how crafty Charlotte was when naming our protagonist. Originally called Lucy Frost, but later changed to Snowe, we see someone who is far from the cold and distant character you’d expect with that name. Instead we are given someone with so much fierceness, with so much passion and so much kindness that it’s almost overwhelming. Not only this, but there are many other contradictions of Lucy’s character than just her name. She is our unreliable narrator; she teases us, she withholds information, and if she were to open up more, it’s through a stream of consciousness which almost never makes sense. Yet, we somehow trust her. The heavy topics which she debates in her dialogue/thought process engage us – she questions God, explores the tension between Catholicism and Protestantism, and questions what is real and imaginary. This contradicting character can sometimes become a little frustrating, especially at the end of the novel. She doesn’t give us a satisfactory ending; we don’t know how her story ends because she leaves it to our “sunny imaginations” instead. It’s these kinds of juxtapositions between Lucy’s character which makes Villette a more interesting novel than Jane Eyre.
Unfortunately, there are a few things which can hinder the reader’s enjoyment of the novel, so by discussing them here I wish to ameliorate them. I experienced a lot of these when I first started reading, but once I understood their significance and realised why Charlotte did this, I came to appreciate them. To start off with, the narrative. This can quickly become quite tedious. Lucy likes to moan, whether that be about her feelings battling with reason, or how she reacts to every little things. But if you read this story like her diary, then the oppressive writing style starts to make sense. It’s difficult to read sometimes because it’s a difficult situation for Lucy to go through, and it’s even more difficult for her to make sense of it.
Next one on the list is the unrequited love. After reading a 500 page novel on a lonely woman pining after two men, you’d expect for her to find romance at the end of the story. So when Lucy leaves it up to your imagination, you feel a little disappointed. But – believe it or not – this is a brilliant ending for this story. This proto-postmodern ending – with its teasing and withholding – underlines that life is what you make of it. Not only that, but not everyone is going to find mutual love. To constantly write novels on this would be promoting fakery, and Charlotte really hits home on this. What makes it even more powerful is the autobiographical elements underling this narrative – it’s honestly a masterpiece for its raw and realistic portrayal of life.
Finally, the French. This was inevitable, and there is no way to ameliorate this unless you speak fluent French, enjoy spending your time translating or just simply don’t care. As with most novels written by Charlotte, almost every conversation is spoken in French. This can become a little tedious when you’re trying to read an already difficult book – so either skim those bits and hope for the best (like I do) or translate them. Doing either of these things will hinder – and alter – the way you read the book, so just find what’s best for you and go with it!
Other than that, I really loved this book. From the outside, it’s a difficult and heavy book to read, so I can understand why some people are put off by it. But from the inside, it’s a deep and moving tale about the woeful life of loneliness, the individual and the constant battle between feelings and reason. So for that 5 stars is most definitely awarded to this book.
Review originally posted on my blog: https://abibliophilesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/06/villette-a-review/
This quote truly captures the essence of Villette; it’s a novel which evolves around the idea of the ‘individual’ – and this individual is set to go through a variety of emotions in life. They are governed by Reason and Feelings, to name but a few. Because of this Villette is – without a doubt – Brontë’s most sophisticated work. She draws on her own unhappy experiences of being a governess in Brussels to create a melancholy and depressing tale – it follows Lucy Snowe, who sets sail from the lonely England to the town of Villette, where she works at a girls’ boarding school. Even in this busy environment she is still isolated, thus leaving her to mental breakdowns and episodes of depression. As she struggles on through life, she also becomes infatuated with two men: the school’s doctor – Dr. John – and the dictatorial professor – Paul Emanuel. As Wordsworth Classics put it nicely: “rising above the frustrations of confinement within a rigid social order, it is also a story of a woman’s right to love and be loved”. It’s worth keeping this in mind when reading Villette, as it’s quite easy to lose track of the main focus.
If you were not to immerse yourself in this story fully, then you’ll be missing out on the best parts – those which make Villette so ground-breaking. To get the best out of it, you must read it from a psychological perspective. Charlotte is taking 500 pages to explore the self, and how one is prone to mental breakdowns (and illnesses) from things as simple as loneliness. She criticises those who state cultivating happiness is the cure for these things – no amount of fresh air, change of scenery or being around people can change this. We see the most distressing portrayal of this through the character of Lucy Snowe – at one point, her breakdown becomes so intense she (as a Protestant) seeks out a Catholic priest to confess all her sins and grievances to. It’s truly an overwhelming emotional story, one which opens your eyes to the invisible battle that constantly forges on in your mind.
I love how crafty Charlotte was when naming our protagonist. Originally called Lucy Frost, but later changed to Snowe, we see someone who is far from the cold and distant character you’d expect with that name. Instead we are given someone with so much fierceness, with so much passion and so much kindness that it’s almost overwhelming. Not only this, but there are many other contradictions of Lucy’s character than just her name. She is our unreliable narrator; she teases us, she withholds information, and if she were to open up more, it’s through a stream of consciousness which almost never makes sense. Yet, we somehow trust her. The heavy topics which she debates in her dialogue/thought process engage us – she questions God, explores the tension between Catholicism and Protestantism, and questions what is real and imaginary. This contradicting character can sometimes become a little frustrating, especially at the end of the novel. She doesn’t give us a satisfactory ending; we don’t know how her story ends because she leaves it to our “sunny imaginations” instead. It’s these kinds of juxtapositions between Lucy’s character which makes Villette a more interesting novel than Jane Eyre.
Unfortunately, there are a few things which can hinder the reader’s enjoyment of the novel, so by discussing them here I wish to ameliorate them. I experienced a lot of these when I first started reading, but once I understood their significance and realised why Charlotte did this, I came to appreciate them. To start off with, the narrative. This can quickly become quite tedious. Lucy likes to moan, whether that be about her feelings battling with reason, or how she reacts to every little things. But if you read this story like her diary, then the oppressive writing style starts to make sense. It’s difficult to read sometimes because it’s a difficult situation for Lucy to go through, and it’s even more difficult for her to make sense of it.
Next one on the list is the unrequited love. After reading a 500 page novel on a lonely woman pining after two men, you’d expect for her to find romance at the end of the story. So when Lucy leaves it up to your imagination, you feel a little disappointed. But – believe it or not – this is a brilliant ending for this story. This proto-postmodern ending – with its teasing and withholding – underlines that life is what you make of it. Not only that, but not everyone is going to find mutual love. To constantly write novels on this would be promoting fakery, and Charlotte really hits home on this. What makes it even more powerful is the autobiographical elements underling this narrative – it’s honestly a masterpiece for its raw and realistic portrayal of life.
Finally, the French. This was inevitable, and there is no way to ameliorate this unless you speak fluent French, enjoy spending your time translating or just simply don’t care. As with most novels written by Charlotte, almost every conversation is spoken in French. This can become a little tedious when you’re trying to read an already difficult book – so either skim those bits and hope for the best (like I do) or translate them. Doing either of these things will hinder – and alter – the way you read the book, so just find what’s best for you and go with it!
Other than that, I really loved this book. From the outside, it’s a difficult and heavy book to read, so I can understand why some people are put off by it. But from the inside, it’s a deep and moving tale about the woeful life of loneliness, the individual and the constant battle between feelings and reason. So for that 5 stars is most definitely awarded to this book.
Review originally posted on my blog: https://abibliophilesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/06/villette-a-review/
beneduck's review against another edition
4.75
I would give this 5, but I didn’t actually finish it. I love lucy snowe.
giuli_lec's review against another edition
1.0
Noioso. Lento. Senza azione se non nelle ultime pagine e anche scadente.
Le persone che scrivono che è un libro più bello di Jane Eyre, forse non lo hanno letto abbastanza bene.
È stato difficile leggerlo e ho trovato ODIOSE le lunghe conversazioni in francese: se avessi voluto leggere un libro in lingua lo avrei comprato interamente in francese.
Iniziato male e finito peggio, è una lettura di cui avrei fatto inifinitamente a meno!
Le persone che scrivono che è un libro più bello di Jane Eyre, forse non lo hanno letto abbastanza bene.
È stato difficile leggerlo e ho trovato ODIOSE le lunghe conversazioni in francese: se avessi voluto leggere un libro in lingua lo avrei comprato interamente in francese.
Iniziato male e finito peggio, è una lettura di cui avrei fatto inifinitamente a meno!