The biggest intuition of the BBC is that the original work is highly reductive. So I piled up my impressions of jane eyre a little bit. And reminds me of Wuthering Heights, the author's sister. Although the two are sisters, they are completely different like wood and sharp blades.
Jane's work is the idea of ordinary people. A novel written by a man with a very ordinary imagination. Countless people were moved by the words that burst out from Jane's thin and ordinary body, "Do you think that I am ordinary, short, and poor, so I don't have a heart... If I have beauty and wealth, I want you to be difficult to leave me, just It's as hard as it is for me to leave you now. We are equal..." (I can't recite it) It's just that Jane is really ordinary, so ordinary that she can't be married to Rochester. And the author, for his own compensation psychology, insisted that Jane's aunt express her remorse to her and beg her forgiveness before she died, and also let Jane, who is poor and white, inherit the property of her distant uncle and become a little rich woman. Worst of all, it makes our graceful Rochester blind and crippled, losing the dash and unbridled pride of the past. In this way, Jane can forgive her aunt like a goddess, and stay with Rochester for life as a giver completely "equal" and even "superior".
The more you emphasize that you don't mind, the more you mind. So the author is very concerned about his poverty and ordinary appearance.
jane eyre is a novel that women love to read. Because Rochester is the kind of man who is easy to attract, he rarely whispers, but his feelings are strong like a religion. His muffled "jane" is enough to dispel all the sanity of our lovely, stubborn, and somewhat inferior heroine.
In contrast, Wuthering Heights is a real novel. Rather than a synthesis of the author's tragic childhood memories and self-fulfillment.
No one asks why Elizabeth and Hickory are in love, cos it's all natural, like the sky is blue and the cloud is white. Loving you is like loving yourself. We need to see this love beyond the ordinary human experience.
Elizabeth was as beautiful as a fairy and a little wild horse. She was as gorgeous as a gem passing through a ribbon, and as rough as a branch with fangs and claws swayed by the west wind. She loves torturing her lover and torturing herself at the same time. In this regard, the healthy body that has been running in the wasteland for many years will be too fragile to withstand the strength of the breeze, and suddenly wither. She made the wrong choice and married gentle Edward, the gentleman who loved her flawless appearance. So when the man who really knew her and loved the real her appeared, she broke down completely.
When love is too perfect, it will naturally be destroyed. There is no room for this kind of love.
But I was overwhelmed by this love.
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