I would not dare to encapsulate my thoughts on Jane Eyre or any other creation of Charlotte Brontë, since I neither have the adequate education nor the expertise to do so, however, I shall simply ruminate upon the richness of her language in this short note of mine. A language that holds within its folds the manifold beauty of nature as well as the tiny nuances of human emotions. A language that is indeed so incredibly pristine that it shimmers with untold secrets and unsung ballads. A language that used to once upon a time be spoken by most people, but is sadly neglected today.
Each time I read these classics of English literature I tend to wonder about the richness of the language and its denouement in the present day world. Whatever happened to that language? Once upon a time expressions more priceless than gems and words sweeter than wine used to tumble out of people’s mouths during the course of their daily lives. What happened to that ? Why do we restrict ourselves to commonplace words and expressions that are borrowed from a society bereft of both individuality as well as intensity of character? Why do we speak a language that delivers an English both truncated in stature a well as devoid of the richness that she once boasted of ? Why do we compromise with our language ? Why can’t we be like Jane Eyre who refused to compromise with both her position in life as well as the hollow marriage that Mr. Rochester had to offer during the early part of the novel? Too many questions and very few answers.
For the time being let us meditate upon that glorious language that was once upon a time prevalent in a world that appreciated the baroque over the commonplace. A world where people had the time to think and speak with both eloquence as well as passion. A world lost in the sands of time.
Thank you Charlotte Brontë for bringing that world back to us.
Au revoir !