What the hell, ‘Villette’? I trusted you. You were written by the woman who penned my all-time fave Classic.
People said you were the best of the Brontes. Those people are liars.
This won’t be a long one, folks.
I started this year with good intentions. I thought “let’s kick off with a classic. It’s been awhile.”
Ugh. No one will prepare you for how mind numbingly dull this book is. I really wish I could say something upbeat, or more balanced about it but…
Literally nothing happens.
Nothing.
There’s no Gothic imagery or intrigue to pull apart, there’s no real mystery, no obvious love interest (if that’s your thang) and the main character has no motivations of her own.
It’s common in a Classic that the protagonist will be reactionary, almost to the point of passivity.
But in ‘Villette’? Dayum. Is she dead? I’ve read about corpses with more interesting narratives than hers.
I’m being harsh because I feel cheated out of my time. I waited and waited and struggled through more in hopes that SOMETHING would happen.
But alas.
I will give Charlotte Bronte her due though. Even as much as I didn’t enjoy the story, I did like some of the characterisation.
I can’t remember their names, but I can still picture many of them so vividly in my mind.
But bloody hellfire and brimstone. I’ve been assigned worst texts on study lists. Guh.
Behind on Books 