Jane should borrow Heathcliff's iPod

Oh well, we know it's not Daphne du Maurier's centenary every year so excuse us if BrontëBlog is a little crowded with news concerning the author of Rebecca this week but, after all, she was a Brontëite and at least two of her works are related to the Brontës.

As you know, this week the du Maurier Festival is taking place. Justine Picardie - author of My Mother's Wedding Dress, and currently working on her new novel Daphne - gave a talk there last Sunday.

Justine Picardie will be talking about the life of Daphne du Maurier, and discussing her latest novel, "Daphne", due to be published by Bloomsbury next year. The book, which is based on Justine’s extensive research into previously undiscovered letters and manuscripts, takes as its starting point Daphne du Maurier herself: beautiful, famous, yet despairing as her marriage is threatened, and haunted by Rebecca, the heroine of her most famous novel.

Check out this old post where you can find out more about why Daphne is Brontë-related as well.

The Guardian's book blog, however, cautions us not to 'get carried away about Du Maurier', because - according to John Mullan - 'though her fiction makes terrific films, she is simply not much of a writer.' We think that's for readers to decide, and we enjoyed Rebecca years ago and recently were more than pleasantly surprised by her Infernal World of Branwell Brontë. Du Maurier herself suffered in her lifetime at being at so popular among readers yet so unpopular among critics. It looks like some still think that both things can never be united.

"It's quite difficult to be taken seriously by the critics and be a bestseller," was Frayling's explanation of her status. But Du Maurier's bestsellers were not so by accident. Jamaica Inn was a "tale of adventure" set in Cornwall, with villainous smugglers and wreckers, and "atmospheric" scenes on Bodmin Moor. It has a sturdy, standard-issue romantic heroine who has to choose between glowering sub-Brontë Cornishmen. (Rochester/Heathcliff figures recur in her fiction.) Plenty of her output is efficient historical flummery. Only a care with natural description sets Frenchman's Creek apart from formula historical fiction.

But back to our Brontë news. Associated Content has a lengthy article on Adèle.

An ambiguous, yet important role for Adèle in the story is to serve simultaneously as a double for Jane and as a contrast to Bertha. Gilbert says that "Bertha is Jane's truest and darkest double" (487), and while this may be true, Adèle could easily be labeled as Jane's truest and brightest double. Just as Bertha "is the angry aspect of the orphan child, the ferocious secret self Jane has been trying to repress ever since her days at Gateshead" (Gilbert 487-488), Adèle is the playful and free-spirited aspect of her governess-the happy, innocent child that Jane never had much of a chance to be. While Jane's "darkest double" is never actually present or truthfully revealed (until Jane finally discovers Bertha's existence), Jane's 'brightest double' is almost always around. The significance of this point is that it can be viewed as an internal conflict of good versus evil where Jane's repressed self is overwhelmingly conquered by her brighter, happier self that is seeking ultimate happiness and acceptance among other people.
A second way in which Adèle simultaneously serves as a double for Jane and a contrast to Bertha is revealed through the fact that Jane has two conflicting forms of emotions towards Rochester. Both of these emotions take precedence at different times in the novel. One of these emotions includes anger, resentment, or indifference as a result of Rochester's arrogance, masterful tendencies, and traditional views of society and women. These feelings are expressed only slightly (mostly verbally) by Jane herself, but they are expressed to the extreme by Jane's "darkest double" Bertha. Some examples of Bertha's behavior that express these feelings are when she attempts more than once to kill Rochester and when she tears Jane's wedding veil.
Jane's other emotion toward Rochester involves happiness, admiration, and a sense of belonging, which is expressed largely by Adèle towards Rochester as her caretaker and is increasingly expressed by Jane whose 'brighter side' is bursting forth by the end of the novel. These positive feelings are exemplified well when in chapter 18, Adèle exclaims in French, "Mr. Rochester's back!" after she had been awaiting his return alongside the guests at Thornfield (Brontë 161). (Letisha Beachy)

Overall a very interesting read with lots of things to pause and reconsider.

And now for a weird kind of mention in an article about iPods from The Times.

“I was thinking about Jane Eyre, the other day,” sighs Cassidy. “And Pride and Prejudice and all that. How wonderful it would be if we could go back to the lovely days of parties. Courtship rituals. Eye communication. Yes, iPods are used in a romantic framework, but there is a major shift of parameters.” Docking, points out Cassidy, darkly, can also be used for evil. (Hugo Rifkind)

Hmmmmkay, whatever. Heathcliff already got his iPod last year anyway.

Categories: Books, Jane Eyre, Scholar, Weirdo