Change of Mind: Jane Eyre

Every time we start a new book, I usually make a quick judgment about how that book will be. For example, I knew King Lear would be hellish. I knew I'd like Life of Pi, etc. When I picked up Jane Eyre from my bookshelf of unused books (it was next to The House on Mango Street and Rules for Writers), I knew that I was in for Lear, round two.

I kept this view untill about chapter 12, when a bit of the language made me stop, and think, 'This is great writing.' It was When Rochester reveals himself as the gypsy. Jane tells him that he was neither himself nor the gypsy woman- he was "some other countenance". I fell in love with the book.
Maybe not the book, but the writing. Charlotte Bronte's style is warmly welcomed into my growing collection.

Literary voices can be likened to the implement that writes them- Life of Pi was like a crayon, and Lear was... a chisel, and Siddhartha, a fine paintbrush, but Jane Eyre is like a exquisite fountain pen, and I'm glad to have it.