Jane Eyre

I have a vivid memory of this book. I am a young reader, sitting on a shaded porch in the not-so-deep-south, flipping the pages anxiously to find out what will become of the young, spunky heroine Jane, who sparks a fiery feminism within me as she allows no man to bully her into a relationship that is not based on truth. Though plain and poor, she stands tall and speaks her mind. I am impressed with my young self in this memory, for not all preadolescents are intelligent enough to be able to grasp the message and the content of this great novel. I can remember each detail clearly, can even picture the fire and a cringing Mr. Rochester as he shields his face from the flames fanned by his crazy wife.

It then occurs to me that there were no color pictures in Charlotte Brontes masterpiece, and what I am remembering as a powerful novel experience is actually . . . a comic book. Specifically, a Classics Illustrated graphic novel, whose marketing copy suggests this series “features classic tales retold with attractive color illustrations to introduce literature to struggling readers”. Well, shit. Continue reading