"'I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will, wchich I now exert to leave you.'" (s. 284). Charlotte Brontës klassikar Jane Eyre frå 1847 er definitivt ei av dei bøkene eg til no har lese i år som eg har kost meg mest med. Stemninga er til å ta og kjenne på, det er noko mystisk som ligg og lurer heile vegen: "'Doesn’t she know?' I heard the woman whisper. Leah shook her head, and the conversation was of course dropped. All I had gathered from it amounted to this,—that there was a mystery at Thornfield; and that from participation in that mystery I was purposely excluded." (s.185) Skildringane av landskapet og ikkje minst den sterka stemma til Jane, dette er ein klassikar som sit igjen og som eg veit eg kjem til å lese om igjen. Ikkje berre gjekk me i Jane Eyres fotspor i Hathersage, men ved Haddon Hall – som ligg berre ein liten busstur unna Bakewell – er det blitt spelt inn ikkje mindre enn tre versjonar av denne klassikaren.
"The strong blast and the soft breeze; the rough and the halcyon day; the hours of sunrise and sunset; the moonlight and the clouded night, developed for me, in these regions, the same attraction as for them—wound round my faculties the same spell that entranced theirs." (s. 392)
"'I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad—as I am now. Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth? They have a worth—so I have always believed; and if I cannot believe it now, it is because I am insane—quite insane: with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its throbs. Preconceived opinions, foregone determinations, are all I have at this hour to stand by: there I plant my foot.'" (s. 355).
Utgåva eg har ståande i bokhylla, er slåande vakker med gullskrift, gull på sidekantane og nydelege blomar. Okei, så juksa eg litt då me var ute og reiste, men boka er for tjukk til å ha med på ein ferie som interrail ;) Eit siste sitat må eg berre leggje ved: "Hitherto I have recorded in detail the events of my insignificant existence: to the first ten years of my life I have given almost as many chapters. But this is not to be a regular autobiography: I am only bound to invoke Memory where I know her responses will possess some degree of interest; therefore I now pass a space of eight years almost in silence: a few lines only are necessary to keep up the links of connection." (s. 94)
Legg igjen ein fin tanke