Reader, I Married Him – Audible Book Review – No More Workhorse Reader, I Married Him – Audible Book Review by Pat V. Edited by Tracy Chevalier “Reader, I married him” at the conclusion of Charlotte Bronte’s novel, Jane Eyre, must rank among the most famous last lines of any work of fiction. To celebrate the 200th anniversary of Bronte’s birth, Tracy Chevalier approached a number of contemporary women writers and asked them to use Jane Eyre’s famous declaration as a springboard for a story. This anthology of 21 short stories is the result and includes stories by Susan Hill, Jane Gardam, Helen Dunmore, Emma Donoghue and Chevalier herself among others. Jane Eyre tells the story of a young orphan who, after a traumatic childhood spent among relatives who don’t want her, is sent to the infamous Lowood Institution, a charity school for girls. After six years as a student and two as a teacher at Lowood, Jane leaves to become governess to a young girl living at Thornfield Hall, where she meets and falls in love with the enigmatic, Mr. Rochester.

After a turbulent period at the Hall, Jane runs away, having been left at the altar by Mr. Rochester who, she discovered, was already married and whose mad wife had been kept locked up in the attic. Later, on learning that the Hall had burnt down, his wife was dead and Mr. Rochester was now blind, she returns and the novel ends with “Reader, I married him” The writers in this collection have each taken some character or aspect of Bronte’s story and based their story around it. In some cases there is no direct reference to novel but the writer has chosen to take a similar theme in a completely different context. For example, Susan Hill’s story is told from the point of view of Wallis Simpson, and the “him” is Edward, Duke of Windsor, the man who was briefly King Edward VIII. Similarly, Tessa Hadley’ story, “My Mother’s Wedding”, tells of her mother’s plans for an unconventional wedding in the 1970’s and in “Since First I Saw Your Face,” Emma Donoghue comments on the bonds of marriage in a story that tells of a passionate and loving relationship between two women. However, other stories are more directly linked to Jane Eyre.

“The Orphan Exchange” by Audrey Niffenger focuses on Jane’s life as an orphan in a contemporary war-torn country. Helen Dunmore’s is one of the best stories of the collection. Told from the point of view of Grace Poole, the servant who looked after Bertha, the mad wife of Mr. Rochester, she defends her mistress and calls into question the general opinion of Jane Eyre. Similarly, in Salley Vickers “Reader, She married Me”, seen through the eyes of Mr. Rochester, we meet a manipulative and scheming Jane. The tables are turned, however, in Francine Prose’s “The Mirror” where it is Mr. Rochester who holds all the power. With a wide range of styles, comic, tragic, romantic, there is something here to please every listener. The characters are represented in youth, middle and old age, in traditional marriage and in gay relationships, and their stories are set in many different locations. The narrator, Laura Kirman, is skilful in adapting tone and accent to suit the different settings and moods.

This anthology is an original and stimulating concept and will be great appreciated by lovers of short stories and will be particularly treasured by all admirers of Jane Eyre. The audiobook is available from audible.co.uk and lasts 7h 21mins Share this: Conclusion - Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and... Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went into the kitchen of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner and John cleaning the knives, and I said "Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning." The housekeeper and her husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order of people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate a remarkable piece of news without incurring the danger of having one's ears pierced by some shrill ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of wordy wonderment.

Mary did look up, and she did stare at me: the ladle with which she was basting a pair of chickens roasting at the fire, did for some three minutes hang suspended in air; and for the same space of time John's knives also had rest from the polishing process: but Mary, bending again over the roast, said only "Have you, Miss? Well, for sure!" A short time after she pursued--"I seed you go out with the master, but I didn't know you were gone to church to be wed;" and she basted away. John, when I turned to him, was grinning from ear to ear. "I telled Mary how it would be," he said: "I knew what Mr. Edward" (John was an old servant, and had known his master when he was the cadet of the house, therefore, he often gave him his Christian name)--"I knew what Mr. Edward would do; and I was certain he would not wait long neither: and he's done right, for aught I know. I wish you joy, Miss!" and he politely pulled his forelock.

“Reader, I married him.” | Jane Eyre Questions | Q & A | GradeSaver Jane Eyre "Reader, I married him." 'There is probably no single line in the whole of Jane Eyre that has, in itself, attracted as much critical attention as the first line of the last chapter: "Reader, I married him." Why is the phrasing of this line so important? How would the sense be different-for the sentence and for the novel as a whole-if the line read, "Reader, we were married"? Asked by sam h #274175 on 10/10/2012 9:06 PM Last updated by jill d #170087 on 10/10/2012 9:15 PM Marriage and Fiction: Reader, I married him… | Rereading Jane Eyre Marriage and Fiction: Reader, I married him… Posted by lucciagray The Last chapter of Jane Eyre begins with these four words, “Reader, I married him.” As if with marriage the narrator wished to close the story, which started when Jane was a ten-year old orphan living unhappily with her cruel aunt, Mrs.

Reed, and spiteful cousins; Georgina, Eliza, and John. She later went through the deprivations and severity of Lowood boarding school for poor girls, run by the dreadful Mr. Brocklehurst, where she trained, and later worked as a teacher. When she was eighteen, she applied for a job as a governess at Thornfield Hall, where she met and fell in love with Mr. Rochester, who almost dishonoured her by preparing a bigamous marriage. He was already legally married to Bertha Mason, whom he had imprisoned in his attic. Bertha committed suicide, and Jane and Rochester were finally able to celebrate a lawful wedding, in the final chapter of the novel. It was a Victorian convention to end novels in this way, indicating that virtue led to the stability and happiness which marriage represented. The problem here is that Mr. Rochester was neither virtuous nor stable, and every reader is aware of that. Whether you believe that this was the end of the story of Jane Eyre is, of course, up to the reader. This is what the narrator, Jane Eyre, a romantic and innocent twenty-year-old, thought would happen.

But how reliable a narrator is Jane, the young, naïve woman who is blindly in love with Edward Rochester? Readers have seen Edward Rochester through Jane Eyre’s eyes. She loved him in spite of his lies, and there were many of them. Rochester always denied being Adele’s father, and he insisted that he was unmarried, even in a church, as Richard Mason accused him of being betrothed to his sister. He blames everyone else for his problems; his father, his brother, Richard Mason, his first wife, and he even accuses Jane of bewitching him into loving her. Rochester is innocent in his own eyes, and he convinces Jane of his guiltlessness; this does not necessarily mean he convinces the reader. Readers make their own decisions. Rochester is bad-tempered, conceited, and aggressive. He tries to humiliate Jane when she first arrives at Thornfield, and teases her mercilessly with Blanche Ingram, and his other guests.

He reminds her constantly that she is not attractive, “You—poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are.” (Chapter XXIII) He even threatens Jane with these words, “Jane, I am not a gentle-tempered man—you forget that: I am not long-enduring; I am not cool and dispassionate. Out of pity to me and yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel how it throbs, and—beware!” As a result of his violence she is forced to ask for God’s help, “I did what human beings do instinctively when they are driven to utter extremity—looked for aid to one higher than man: the words “God help me!” burst involuntarily from my lips.” (Chapter XXVII) Jane does not finally tame him. He is rendered physically passive, after the accident due to partial blindness and a stumped arm, and emotionally sunk, because he has lost the two women who were sustaining his vanity and ego. When Jane finally returns, he recovers his physical and emotional strength, because he is now someone’s unconditional “master” once more.

The question is: how long will Jane be able to continue with the idyllic life she imagines she will lead for the rest of her days? Is marriage the end of a story, or the beginning of another, greater adventure? We can ask ourselves some questions in order to foresee how their relationship may well develop: Will Jane be content to spend the rest of her life as a recluse at Ferdean? Will Rochester be content to do the same after he recovers his sight and his health? What will happen once they have a family? Will Rochester relinquish his central role in her life in favour of a child or children? Are they really well suited? Do they have the same outlook on life? Does he have any consideration for his servants? Orphans? People in difficulty? Has he any religious beliefs, as she does? Does she like hunting and inconsequential social gatherings? Their conversation was lively while they were flirting, but now the conquest has been made and mundane daily matters will take over, how will “sir” react? How will the gentry of the area take to Jane? There is a large age-difference between them, what will happen when Rochester ages or dies and she is still relatively young?

Jane is the narrator and protagonist of Jane Eyre, but the novel ends when she is still a very young woman who has a whole life ahead of her. Jane Eyre is one of the greatest characters in literary history; her life cannot end with marriage to an egotistical, dishonest, and idle member of the Victorian gentry. I wanted more. Jane Eyre, the impressionable young bride, deserves a life of her own, so I imagined Jane Eyre Rochester, the woman, and wrote her story, twenty-two years after her marriage to Edward Rochester, in All Hallows at Eyre Hall, because marriage is not the end of a fictional life; it is the beginning of another novel. Can you think of any other ‘unfinished’ novels ending in marriages, which need to be continued? Reader, I Married Him: Stories Inspired by Jane Eyre: Tracy Chevalier: 9780062447098: Amazon.com: Books Read more From the Back Cover This collection of original stories by today’s finest woman writers takes inspiration from the famous line in Charlotte Brontë’s most beloved novel, Jane Eyre A fixture in the literary canon, Charlotte Brontë is revered by readers all over the world.

Her books featuring unforgettable, strong heroines still resonate with millions today. And who could forget one of literature’s best-known lines: “Reader, I married him” from her classic novel Jane Eyre? Part of a remarkable family that produced three acclaimed female writers at a time in nineteenth-century Britain when few women wrote, and fewer were published, Brontë has become a great source of inspiration to writers, especially women, ever since. Now, in Reader, I Married Him, twenty of today’s most celebrated woman authors have spun original stories using Jane Eyre as a springboard.

Reader, I Married Him features stories by: Tracy Chevalier, Tessa Hadley, Helen Dunmore, Kirsty Gunn, Joanna Briscoe, Jane Gardam, Emma Donoghue, Susan Hill, Francine Prose, Elif Shafak, Evie Wyld, Patricia Park, Salley Vickers, Nadifa Mohamed, Esther Freud, Linda Grant, Sarah Hall, Lionel Shriver, Audrey Niffenegger, Namwali Serpell, Elizabeth McCracken Unique, inventive, and poignant, the stories in Reader, I Married Him pay homage to the literary genius of Charlotte Brontë, and demonstrate once again that her extraordinary vision continues to inspire readers and writers. Book review: Reader, I married him | Culture and Anarchy Culture and Anarchy by Serena Trowbridge Reader, I Married Him: Stories inspired by Jane Eyre, edited by Tracy Chevalier, is one of many celebrations of Charlotte Bronte’s bicentenary this year, and is a result of Chevalier’s collaboration with the Bronte Parsonage Museum at Haworth.

I read it because, to be honest, I’m a bit of a Bronte geek, and the idea of a range of stories which bring Bronte’s wild and wonderful work into the 21st century holds a strong appeal. Chevalier asks in her introduction: “Why is ‘Reader, I married him’ one of the most famous lines in literature? Why do we remember it and quote it so much?” Moreover, she adds, It is not, ‘Reader, he married me’ – as you would expect in a Victorian society where women were supposed to be passive; or even ‘Reader, we married.’ Instead Jane asserts herself; she is the driving force of her narrative, and it is she who chooses to be with Rochester. True. It is, I think, at least in part the thrill of this quiet, plain heroine who is able to change her own life and take control of her own destiny, that appeals; she is still a modern heroine, all this time after her publication in 1847.

That is, no doubt, the driving force behind many of these stories, by familiar names including Helen Dunmore, Kirsty Gunn, Tessa Hadley, Susan Hill, Esther Freud, Lionel Shriver and Audrey Niffenegger, to name a few. To me, though, it was an odd collection; I was, perhaps, trying too hard to trace the stories’ origins in Jane Eyre; many seem to feature a relationship or a wedding which might, very loosely, be derived from the line “Reader, I married him”, but in some cases I was lost as to the Bronte connection and thus perhaps didn’t enjoy the story as much as I should. Some stories, however, were wonderful – illuminating the original text, whilst bringing a modern creativity and understanding to a new piece of fiction. Helen Dunmore’s ‘Grace Poole Her Testimony’ gives a revisionist reading of the Jane Eyre story (one might almost say myth), in which Jane and Mr Rochester are cast as much less positive characters, while poor Bertha is given a rounded, much softer and sympathetic character.

Grace shows that not all women have a voice; not all women can put their story forward and create their own destinies like Jane Eyre, and reminds the reader that after all, Jane is a fiction – more women, perhaps, suffered the repressive lives that Grace and Bertha had. The flipside of the fairytale has always been represented by Bertha, and this story re-reads Bronte’s text to show how facts might be manipulated. Of course the idea of the ‘madwoman in the attic’ is familiar from Gilbert and Gubar’s critical work of the same name, but this concept with its multiple possibilities of dual consciousness, the repression of women, the psychology of characters, seems ripe for fictional exploration but doesn’t really feature in this book. The appealing mismatch of the strong but slightly prissy, educated woman and the careless man is reflected nicely in Chevalier’s own story, ‘Dorset Gap’, in which a geo-caching expedition leads to a sly twist at the end. Francine Prose reimagines the story in which Rochester becomes an even more sinister figure, disposing of unwanted wives in a manner close to Bluebeard.

Susan Hill, who admits she hasn’t read Jane Eyre, writes a story from the point of view of Wallis Simpson, exploring the problems of being needed and adored. Perhaps my favourite is Emma Donoghue’s ‘Since First I Saw Your Face’, exploring marriage (so a very loose connection to the novel) as complicated by repressed sexuality, and through the prism of another true story, the life of Minnie Benson, mother of E F Benson of Mapp and Lucia. Audrey Niffenegger’s ‘The Orphan Exchange’, with overtones of Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go, eventually reunites Jane with her childhood friend Helen Burns. These stories play on the tensions inherent in the novel, particularly with regard to marriage. As John Sutherland puts it in Can Jane Eyre Ever be Happy?: The echoes of Bluebeard in Jane Eyre are obvious. Rochester is a swarthy, middle-aged rich country gentleman, with a wife locked up in a secret chamber in his house. He wants another wife – like Bluebeard, he is a man of voracious sexual appetite. … what is most striking is Bronte’s inversion of the conclusion of the fable.

In Jane Eyre we are encouraged, in the last chapters, to feel sympathy for Bluebeard – a husband more sinned against than sinning. The locked-up wife is transformed into the villain of the piece. … Not only is sympathy demanded. We are to assume that – after some moral re-education – Jane will be blissfully happy with a Bluebeard who has mended his ways. It is more daring since … Edward Rochester is responsible for Bertha Rochester’s death. Like Francine Prose, Sutherland concludes that one might not, therefore, ‘be entirely confident that his wife-killing ways would not return’. The stories here speak not only to the novel, then, but also to the multiple classics of criticism which have accrued over the last fifty years. Though I might not have appreciated every story here, I’ll not read Jane Eyre in quite the same way again; the stories open up little pinholes of possibilities – other readings, other texts, other characters – in the novel.

Reader, I Married Him: Stories Inspired by Jane Eyre - review | London Evening Standard Reader, I Married Him: Stories Inspired by Jane Eyre - review Brontë’s classic tale in the imaginations of other writers, says Claire Harman Thursday 31 March 2016 16:37 BST Click to follow ES Lifestyle Lost in love: Michael Fassbender as Rochester and Mia Wasikowska as Jane Eyre in the 2011 film Jane Eyre Laurie Sparham It’s the 200th anniversary of Charlotte Brontë’s birth this April, and to mark it Tracy Chevalier has put together this collection of commissioned stories in which 21 leading fiction writers — all women — respond to the most famous line in Brontë’s most famous novel. When Jane Eyre says “Reader, I married him” at the conclusion of her stormy story it’s both triumphant and comically terse but no simple happy ending.

Not surprisingly, many of the stories here revolve around marriage and weddings, notably Tessa Hadley’s terrific opener, My Mother’s Wedding, Namwali Serpell’s Double Men and Jane Gardam’s melancholic It’s a Man’s Life, Ladies. Some riff on the novel itself, with a wonderfully witty version from Helen Dunmore, as told by Grace Poole (“She may marry Mr R. She may take him for all that there is left in him. She will never stop him dead and make him tremble all over, as I did, before he ever touched me”). Francine Prose imagines Jane’s marriage being deliberately scuppered by her dream man and Salley Vickers also looks beyond the supposedly happy ending, but this time in the character of Mr Rochester, burdened with guilt towards his first wife and regretting his manipulation by the nutty governess. Kirsty Gunn takes things a stage further: her Mr Rochester is a dangerous dog who needs sympathetic training, while Emma Donoghue takes a real person, Minnie Benson, and looks at her strange marriage in terms of suppressed sexuality.

Susan Hill (who has not read Jane Eyre) also chooses to fictionalise a real life, writing about Wallis Simpson and the difficulty of being the object of a consuming love. Read more At the Existentialist Café by Sarah Bakewell - review Perhaps she could have benefited from the précis given by one of the characters in Chevalier’s own story, Dorset Gap — a Jane Eyre obsessive — who explains that the story is about “a governess full of inner strength who marries a completely inappropriate man”. “Oh. Right” her would-be suitor says hesistantly. Later, he charms her by misquoting the famous line as “Reader, she married me,” closing the gap between them, but only, one feels, temporarily. Chevalier likens her challenge to a stone thrown in a pond, with some of the ripples moving quite far from the epicentre; certainly, if they weren’t included in this book, you’d have trouble connecting several of the stories with Jane Eyre at all.

Evie Wyld’s atmospheric Behind the Mountain needs an explicit nudge in the final paragraph to remind the reader of any connection, while Elif Shafak’s story A Migrating Bird has a similarly eliptical relation. But the context does the trick and it’s quite amazing to see the quality of work on show. Lionel Shriver’s The Self-Seeding Sycamore would be an asset to any collection, and Elizabeth McCracken’s Robinson Crusoe at the Waterpark is simply one of the best short stories I’ve read in ages. More book reviews 1/17 A Life in Questions by Jeremy Paxman Paxo refuses to answer all the really good questions, says David Sexton. Read review 2/17 Politics: Between: The Extremes by Nick Clegg The basis of this book makes it impossible not to warm to Clegg, says Melanie McDonagh. Read review 3/17 Serious Sweet by A L Kennedy Thank heavens for London in this tale of self-obsessed lovers. Read review 4/17 The Last Royal Rebel: The Life and Death of James, Duke of Monmouth by Anna Keay Born a king’s b****** and destined for a traitor’s death.

Read review 5/17 Man Up: Boys, Men and Breaking the Male Rules by Rebecca Asher Getting to the bottom of why boys will be boys. Read review 6/17 The Course of Love by Alain de Botton A philosophical novel that does run smooth, says Johanna Thomas-Corr. Read review 7/17 The Tree Climber’s Guide: Adventures in the Urban Canopy by Jack Cooke How I gave this book a proper test and ended up with a broken ankle. Read review 8/17 Reader, I Married Him: Stories Inspired by Jane Eyre Brontë’s classic tale in the imaginations of other writers, says Claire Harman. Read review 9/17 Moranifesto by Caitlin Moran Caitlin comes clean about politics — the world according to our funniest feminist. By Rosamund Urwin. Read review 10/17 Spark Joy An Illustrated Guide to the Japanese Art of Tidying by Marie Kondo There’s no messing wih Marie, says Katie Law. Read review 11/17 Cockfosters Stories by Helen Simpson After 50, a woman’s life gets better not worse. By Katie Law.

Read review 12/17 Stalin’s Englishman: The Lives of Guy Burgess by Andrew Lownie Joker in the spying pack. By Richard Bassett. Read review 13/17 Even Dogs in the Wild by Ian Rankin The darkness that lies at the heart of the novel is offset by a lightness of touch, says Mark Sanderson. Read review 14/17 Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink by Elvis Costello Elvis proves not quite so lyrical on the page, says Nick Curtis. Read review 15/17 The Importance of Elsewhere: Philip Larkin’s Photographs by Richard Bradford His poetry paints better pictures than any camera, says David Sexton. Read review 16/17 Career of Evil by Robert Galbraith Morality wins out over macabre murders, says Melanie McDonagh. Read review 17/17 The Grownup by Gillian Flynn Calling all Flynnies: the con girl who’s like gone girl. Read review Chevalier has been appointed to lead the Brontë Parsonage Museum’s bicentenary celebrations this year and the success of this book owes much to her enthusiasm and pulling power.

The pulling power of Charlotte Brontë, too, whose great book “paved the way for more women to write and be published”, as Chevalier says in her introduction, evoking the extraordinary scenes in the dining room at Haworth Parsonage in the 1840s as all three Brontës read and discussed their now-classic novels. “Women just didn’t do that back in the 19th century”; well, not in groups anyway, and perhaps the fact that the Brontës had each other made their amazing flowering happen in the first place. Reader, I Married Him celebrates that sense of sisterhood every bit as much as it does stalwart Charlotte herself. Charlotte Brontë: A Life by Claire Harman will be published in paperback by Penguin on April 7 at £9.99. More about: ‘Reader, I Married Him’: Tracy Chevalier on why Jane Eyre enthralls us still - The Washington Post ‘Reader, I Married Him’: Tracy Chevalier on why Jane Eyre enthralls us still The inside track on Washington politics. Be the first to know about new stories from PowerPost.

Sign up to follow, and we’ll e-mail you free updates as they’re published. You’ll receive free e-mail news updates each time a new story is published. You’re all set! (William Morrow) By Carole Burns April 1, 2016 More than 150 years since the publication of “ Jane Eyre ” — and 200 years since the birth of its author, Charlotte Brontë — this gothic romance still enthralls us. Its most famous line serves as the title of a new book, “ Reader, I Married Him ,” edited by Tracy Chevalier, the bestselling author of “ Girl With a Pearl Earring .” Each of the 21 tales in the collection is loosely inspired by “Jane Eyre.” Contributors include Chevalier, Francine Prose, Lionel Shriver and Elizabeth McCracken. Chevalier, who just published the novel “ At the Edge of the Orchard ,” answered questions about modern interpretations of “Jane Eyre” and why the 19th-century tale endures.

Q: Why do you think people are so taken with “Jane Eyre?” A: Jane Eyre is an underdog, and underneath it all, we all think we’re underdogs. If you ask people if they were popular in high school, everyone says they were on the fringe. Even the cheerleaders say that. Jane Eyre has nothing — she’s an orphan, she’s unloved — yet somehow out of that very unpromising beginning, she manages to hold onto that core of being, and she triumphs in the end. Everyone can relate to that. The author Tracy Chevalier. (Nina Subin) Q: Why does the line “Reader, I Married Him” resonate so strongly? A: When Jane says, “Reader, I married him,” it’s almost like we’re all saying, “Reader, we married him,” or “Reader, we got her to marry him.” It draws us in and makes us a part of the story — like we’re included in the decision. And that’s incredibly seductive and appealing. In the 1840s, there were not many books in which the reader was addressed directly.

I think Charlotte Brontë was the first woman to do that, certainly in a major book, and I liken it to breaking through the fourth wall in the theater. It’s always a surprise, and I think people love that. Q: I’ve always thought of “Reader, I married him” as a triumphant line. A: To me, it’s slightly defiant. “Reader, I married him, although you’re probably wondering why I took him because he treated me so badly and he’s now damaged goods.” But that’s one of its beauties — it’s unresolved. The best artwork is the kind of artwork that is unresolved. One reason people love the painting “Girl With a Pearl Earring” is that it isn’t clear what the girl is thinking. It doesn’t matter how many times you go back to the painting and look at it, it’s still up in the air. Q: For this book, your contribution is a story about a hapless college kid who follows a feisty young woman on a hike after a music festival. How did you come up with that? A: I wasn’t planning to write a story, and then some of the other writers said, “You’re not writing a story?

C’mon, you’re making us do this!” By that time, most of the stories were in, and while some of them are funny, I thought we needed something a little lighter. Another way you can go about responding to “Reader, I Married Him” is to write about “Jane Eyre” as a touchstone in our society. I thought I’d like to do that. The girl in my story is a serious reader — she’s a Jane Eyre persona — but the guy is so hapless that he mixes up “Jane Eyre” with “Wuthering Heights” in an attempt to impress her. He recognizes that she’s kind of out of his league. Q: And then Francine Prose’s story completely de-romanticizes the Jane/Rochester relationship. A: Yes, they go into couple’s therapy! The classic book ends with a marriage: “ Pride and Prejudice ,” “ Sense and Sensibility .” They all live happily ever after. That’s a fairy tale template, and we’ve now moved beyond that. I love that Francine flipped that. Rochester is eyeing the au pair, and the reader gets this feeling that Jane herself might end up abused or divorced or worse.

It’s quite sinister. Carole Burns, the author of “The Missing Woman and Other Stories,” is head of creative writing at the University of Southampton in England. Reader, I married him Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte: Chapter 38 Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went into the kitchen of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner and John cleaning the knives, and I said - "Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning." The housekeeper and her husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order of people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate a remarkable piece of news without incurring the danger of having one's ears pierced by some shrill ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of wordy wonderment.

Mary did look up, and she did stare at me: the ladle with which she was basting a pair of chickens roasting at the fire, did for some three minutes hang suspended in air; and for the same space of time John's knives also had rest from the polishing process: but Mary, bending again over the roast, said only - "Have you, Miss? Well, for sure!" A short time after she pursued--"I seed you go out with the master, but I didn't know you were gone to church to be wed;" and she basted away. John, when I turned to him, was grinning from ear to ear. "I telled Mary how it would be," he said: "I knew what Mr. Edward" (John was an old servant, and had known his master when he was the cadet of the house, therefore, he often gave him his Christian name)--"I knew what Mr. Edward would do; and I was certain he would not wait long neither: and he's done right, for aught I know. I wish you joy, Miss!" and he politely pulled his forelock. "Thank you, John. Mr.

Rochester told me to give you and Mary this." I put into his hand a five-pound note. Without waiting to hear more, I left the kitchen. In passing the door of that sanctum some time after, I caught the words - "She'll happen do better for him nor ony o't' grand ladies." And again, "If she ben't one o' th' handsomest, she's noan faal and varry good-natured; and i' his een she's fair beautiful, onybody may see that." I wrote to Moor House and to Cambridge immediately, to say what I had done: fully explaining also why I had thus acted. Diana and Mary approved the step unreservedly. Diana announced that she would just give me time to get over the honeymoon, and then she would come and see me. "She had better not wait till then, Jane," said Mr. Rochester, when I read her letter to him; "if she does, she will be too late, for our honeymoon will shine our life long: its beams will only fade over your grave or mine." How St.

John received the news, I don't know: he never answered the letter in which I communicated it: yet six months after he wrote to me, without, however, mentioning Mr. Rochester's name or alluding to my marriage. His letter was then calm, and, though very serious, kind. He has maintained a regular, though not frequent, correspondence ever since: he hopes I am happy, and trusts I am not of those who live without God in the world, and only mind earthly things. You have not quite forgotten little Adele, have you, reader? I had not; I soon asked and obtained leave of Mr. Rochester, to go and see her at the school where he had placed her. Her frantic joy at beholding me again moved me much. She looked pale and thin: she said she was not happy. I found the rules of the establishment were too strict, its course of study too severe for a child of her age: I took her home with me. I meant to become her governess once more, but I soon found this impracticable; my time and cares were now required by another--my husband needed them all.

So I sought out a school conducted on a more indulgent system, and near enough to permit of my visiting her often, and bringing her home sometimes. I took care she should never want for anything that could contribute to her comfort: she soon settled in her new abode, became very happy there, and made fair progress in her studies. As she grew up, a sound English education corrected in a great measure her French defects; and when she left school, I found in her a pleasing and obliging companion: docile, good-tempered, and well-principled. By her grateful attention to me and mine, she has long since well repaid any little kindness I ever had it in my power to offer her. My tale draws to its close: one word respecting my experience of married life, and one brief glance at the fortunes of those whose names have most frequently recurred in this narrative, and I have done. I have now been married ten years. I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blest--blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's life as fully is he is mine.

No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edward's society: he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, we are ever together. To be together is for us to be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but a more animated and an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character--perfect concord is the result. Mr. Rochester continued blind the first two years of our union; perhaps it was that circumstance that drew us so very near--that knit us so very close: for I was then his vision, as I am still his right hand. Literally, I was (what he often called me) the apple of his eye.

He saw nature--he saw books through me; and never did I weary of gazing for his behalf, and of putting into words the effect of field, tree, town, river, cloud, sunbeam--of the landscape before us; of the weather round us--and impressing by sound on his ear what light could no longer stamp on his eye. Never did I weary of reading to him; never did I weary of conducting him where he wished to go: of doing for him what he wished to be done. And there was a pleasure in my services, most full, most exquisite, even though sad- -because he claimed these services without painful shame or damping humiliation. He loved me so truly, that he knew no reluctance in profiting by my attendance: he felt I loved him so fondly, that to yield that attendance was to indulge my sweetest wishes. One morning at the end of the two years, as I was writing a letter to his dictation, he came and bent over me, and said--"Jane, have you a glittering ornament round your neck?" I had a gold watch-chain: I answered "Yes." "And have you a pale blue dress on?" I had.

He informed me then, that for some time he had fancied the obscurity clouding one eye was becoming less dense; and that now he was sure of it. He and I went up to London. He had the advice of an eminent oculist; and he eventually recovered the sight of that one eye. He cannot now see very distinctly: he cannot read or write much; but he can find his way without being led by the hand: the sky is no longer a blank to him--the earth no longer a void. When his first- born was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once were--large, brilliant, and black. On that occasion, he again, with a full heart, acknowledged that God had tempered judgment with mercy. My Edward and I, then, are happy: and the more so, because those we most love are happy likewise. Diana and Mary Rivers are both married: alternately, once every year, they come to see us, and we go to see them. Diana's husband is a captain in the navy, a gallant officer and a good man.

Mary's is a clergyman, a college friend of her brother's, and, from his attainments and principles, worthy of the connection. Both Captain Fitzjames and Mr. Wharton love their wives, and are loved by them. As to St. John Rivers, he left England: he went to India. He entered on the path he had marked for himself; he pursues it still. A more resolute, indefatigable pioneer never wrought amidst rocks and dangers. Firm, faithful, and devoted, full of energy, and zeal, and truth, he labours for his race; he clears their painful way to improvement; he hews down like a giant the prejudices of creed and caste that encumber it. He may be stern; he may be exacting; he may be ambitious yet; but his is the sternness of the warrior Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from the onslaught of Apollyon.

His is the exaction of the apostle, who speaks but for Christ, when he says--"Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me." His is the ambition of the high master-spirit, which aims to fill a place in the first rank of those who are redeemed from the earth--who stand without fault before the throne of God, who share the last mighty victories of the Lamb, who are called, and chosen, and faithful. St. John is unmarried: he never will marry now. Himself has hitherto sufficed to the toil, and the toil draws near its close: his glorious sun hastens to its setting. The last letter I received from him drew from my eves human tears, and yet filled my heart with divine joy: he anticipated his sure reward, his incorruptible crown. I know that a stranger's hand will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into the joy of his Lord. And why weep for this? No fear of death will darken St.

John's last hour: his mind will be unclouded, his heart will be undaunted, his hope will be sure, his faith steadfast. His own words are a pledge of this - "My Master," he says, "has forewarned me. Daily He announces more distinctly,--'Surely I come quickly!' and hourly I more eagerly respond,--'Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus!'"

Question: """Reader, I married him,"" appears in the conclusion of what novel?"
Answer: Jane Eyre