Patrick Brontë knew that daughters could be very clever

Brian O'Neill writes a very funny column for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. He writes about the latest screen adaptation of Jane Eyre from what we consider the macho-man point of view.

If I really want to feel left out, though, all my wife has to do is pop in one of those British costume dramas. We were hit with another one, "Jane Eyre,'' the past two Sunday nights.

My wife is more a Jane Austen fan, but she'll throw the Bronte sisters a bone now and again. I'm pretty sure I read Charlotte Bronte's "Jane Eyre'' in college, but my memory of it had shrunk to "Wasn't that the one with the crazy wife locked in the attic?"

So I wasn't quite on board when my wife and our first-born camped out on the couch for the first installment two Sundays ago. Once it began, I watched in horror as a young girl endured psychological brutality laid on thickly by an overindulged family of country twits.

I fled upstairs with our younger girl to play "Go Fish'' before Jane even arrived at the orphanage, a guaranteed horror show in any 19th-century novel.

The following Sunday, both daughters could hardly wait for Eyre time. They persuaded me to join them on the couch midway through.

As I sat down, Rochester, the rich owner of the mansion, was telling Jane his "true feelings." This is the go-for-broke play that every romance fan awaits, but I'm one of those people who can't watch TV without kibitzing.

"'Tis summer, Jane,'' I said in a mock English accent as Rochester droned on, "Yet here I stand beside you in this heavy woolen jacket. Do you have any idea why?"

"Dad!'' the girls shushed.

I'm sorry, but ol' Rochester must have stunk like a Pirates pitching coach walking to the mound in his warm-up jacket in August.[...]

I confess I came around to "Jane Eyre.'' These novels have a certain form because they created the form, so when an uncle Jane never met drops dead and leaves her a fortune, that's pretty much the two-minute warning.

She marries Rochester, as an equal. Cue the violins. Go to bed happy.

It's gotten a little out of hand since. You know how sports junkies spend ridiculous amounts of time watching highlights of games past? Well, my wife and older daughter set the alarm for 4 a.m. last Tuesday so they could watch the second half of "Jane Eyre'' again, and our younger girl hit the roof when she didn't get the wake-up call.

(My wife wants it stressed that this was not a school day, so child-abuse officers can back off.)

Days later, the older kid waved a DVD of "Middlemarch'' under my nose, and threatened to seek out "Wuthering Heights.'' This Tuesday night, my wife has tickets for The Acting Company's production of "Jane Eyre'' at the Byham Theater.

We should be far enough from the stage so Rochester's woolen jacket won't be a factor, but I sort of miss the days when the kids were satisfied with "Shrek.'' I blame the parents.

We are sure Mr O'Neill's daughters would be thrilled by these lovely Jane Eyre icons created by waiting4morning.

Categories: Jane Eyre, Movies-DVD-TV