Since my parents’ promise to me that I would get a great job if I went to college has not come to pass, I have a profusion of leisure. Right now, or rather when I’m not writing (indignant letters to a certain University demanding a refund for my degree enclosed with copies of job rejections), sleeping from midnight to noon, or killing zombies and aliens on the Xbox, I’m reading Jane Eyre.

It’s part of my goal to read half a hundred books this year, and even though I read it (purportedly) in high school, I’m inclined to read it again because of my teenage tendency to read SparkNotes rather than entire novels. Yes, I am indeed proof that you can graduate with a degree from the fourth best English program in the entire world without having read even half of the books assigned in high school, but I digress.

Anyway, I’ve read about a third of Jane Eyre, and I have a few observations I’d like to share:

1. This book makes me want to drink. Heavily. Mrs. Reed, John Reed, Mr. Brocklehurst. Jesus, these are not people whose presence I want to endure without a stiff martini.
2. There’s not enough sex. I’m youthful and progressive and, damn it, I want to read the dirty bits. I’m hoping I’ll be a little more satisfied when Jane and Rochester get together. That happens, right?
3. For someone so acclaimed for being a protofeminist, Charlotte Brontë sure spends a lot of time talking about clothes.
4. The way Brontë writes makes me think I’d be good friends with her in real life. I get the sense that she practices great restraint in writing, and was probably wont to say highly indecorous and hilarious things in conversation, which I totally appreciate in another person.
5. Surprisingly, I like Jane Eyre! I was not expecting this, as British Lit. usually causes me to fake gag while making the “vomit” sign in ASL and curse aloud, but hey, personal growth… or something.

This list offered a lot more insight about me than the book, but isn’t that kind of the point of a personal blog?