Why could I never please? Why was it useless to try and win any one's favour? Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish, was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled temper, a very acrid spite, a captious and insolent carriage, was universally indulged. Her beauty, her pink cheeks, and golden curls, seemed to give delight to all who looked at her, and to purchase indemnity for every fault. Georgiana gets away with "every fault," because she is attractive. This reminds me of a study I once read where more attractive women were more likely to be hired in interviews. Depressing, but true. John no one thwarted, much less punished, though he twisted the necks of the pigeons, killed the little pea-chicks,
set the dogs at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, and broke the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory: he called his mother 'old girl', too; sometimes reviled her for her dark skin, similar to his own, (It's interesting how Bronte uses racial allusion here.) bluntly disregarded her wishes; not infrequently tore and spoiled her silk attire, and he was still 'her own darling'. I dared commit no fault, I strove to fulfil every duty, and I was termed naughty and tiresome, sullen and sneaking, note the alliteration! from morning to noon, and from noon til night. Like Nick from The Great Gatsby, I can't help but wonder if things aren't exactly as Jane says- maybe she's exaggerating a little? Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I don't believe her, but her passionate complaints are almost unbelievable- or aren't they?
No comments:
Post a Comment