Customer Reviews

Villette (Bantam Classics)

5 star:		(38)
4 star:		(15)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

its rather hurried and ambigious ending, which leaves the reader having to form his/her own version of the ending ie. whether a happy or sad one. (Read the Signet Classic, the afterword by Jerome Beaty explains that Charlotte Bronte actually wanted a somewhat sad ending to the story, but her father wanted it to be a happy one, so Bronte compromised by leaving the ending 'hanging' so that the readers can decide for themselves how the story ends.)

Apart from the above dissapointment, this is a marvelous classic and beautifully written, a great and indepth analysis of the workings of the human heart and mind. I loved it better than Jane Eyre (except for the ending: Jane Eyre's is more complete and satisfying). You'll love the character of M.Paul - despite his eccentric behaviour, he's really a darling with a heart of gold, which Lucy Snowe soon discovers!

I recommend that you buy the Signet Classic version which has the English translation to the over 400 French phrases found in the book.

Having read this book 7 times over the past 15 years, I find that the story and characters just get better and better! As much as I idolize _Jane Eyre,_ this story of the oft depressed and melancholy Lucy Snowe sparks the imagination. Lucy is a Jane Eyre without the chutzpah, and with loads less self-esteem; but shares Jane's strict code of conduct, and forces you to value her. In a way, I believe Lucy finds an even worthier match than Jane did--in M. Paul Emmanuel, passionate professor of literature. In a way, the scenes between him and Lucy excite my imagination all the more, because they're understated, AND because I already know how the story ends. The pain lends the love story incredible passion--the tame, orderly, parallel love story of Graham and Paulina just places that of Paul and Lucy in greater relief. The two greatest actions in the book--a slap and a kiss--are so climactic and satisfying, that when I get to that section of the novel, I won't put it down until the end. I am still reeling! Was it better to have loved and lost? _Villette_ answers that question with a resounding affirmative.

What irks me about the other reader reviews is that so many of them seem to cast Lucy Snow's soul in modern terms in the hopes of convincing the readers of the reviews that the book is accessible to them.
I take the opposite tack. It is WE who have something to learn from the Victorians and their masterworks, rather than (if time could be reversed) the other way around. Lucy Snow is a spiritual hero, a concept seemingly lost in our modern age, to judge by most of the reviews anyway. The very name "Lucy" signifies a spiritual light along with a sexual purity signified by "Snow." that all of us in the modern age would do well to ponder and reasses our own souls thereby. I realize, of course, that the term "soul" is dreadfully outdated for many readers. But read and learn that there is such a beautiful thing, not to be psychoanalyzed to dissolution. Read, for example:

"No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure. Happpiness is a glory shining far down upon us out of Heaven. She is a divive dew which the soul, on certain of its summer mornings, feels dropping upon it from the amaranth blooms and golden fruitage of Paradise."

Through all of Lucy's companionless travails through unrequited and partially requited love, we feel the own deep personal love and light shining from her deep sensitive soul. It reminds me of nothing so much as the poetry of Emily Dickinson...In fact, I would go so far to say that those without an appreciation of great poetry will gain little from reading this poetic novel. - Unrequited love builds character and, paradoxically, allows that love to become spiritual (There really is such a thing!) NOT "sublimated."
So, if you can relate to Emily Dickinson, to Yeats when he tells us that if his lifelong love for Maud Gonne had been requited he might have "thrown poor words away and been content to live." or to Emily Dickinson's "Not one of all the purple host who took the flag to-day can tell the definition so clear, of victory, as he, defeated, dying, on whose forbidden ear the distant strains of triumph break, agonized and clear." then pick up this book and follow Lucy through her travails. If you're looking for an easy reading page turner, forget it.
Lucy Snow is a chacter to be admired and emulated, not looked down upon in presumptuous, self-righteous pity.

"For those that have ears, let them hear."

"Villette" is a more complex, mature novel than "Jane Eyre" and, to many readers, a more unsatisfying one. Unlike "Jane Eyre", "Villette" is no Cinderella tale, and there is no Rochester to stir the heroine's -- and the reader's --emotions. In "Villette", Bronte gives us Lucy Snowe, whom she resembled in many ways: plain, prim, no-nonsense, practical to a fault, and suffering the pains of unrequited love. Unlike the happy ending which delighted us in "Jane Eyre", Lucy finds a hope of happiness at last with M. Paul Emanuel, only to have her prospects shipwrecked literally and figuratively at the end of the book. Many readers have a problem with Bronte's liberal use of French throughout the book which disrupts the narrative, and her forays into Gothic romanticism, which seem contrived and artificial. A more serious problem, for this reviewer, is Bronte's insularity and her narrow-minded frame of reference which rejects anything un-English and un-Protestant. Even with these flaws, "Villette" is a deep, thought-provoking portrayal of the pain of lost illusions.

Charlotte Bronte writes with a depth of voice rarely known in English - nay, even World literature. Her earlier novel, JANE EYRE, is in fact one of my most beloved novels of all time.

Her novel VILLETTE is almost wholly the story of an evolution - a remarkable enlightening, filled with the inner vivid color of one individual human soul. The reader follows that soul past loss of family and fortune during childhood, afterwards making its way over the English Channel to a position earning bread in a school for girls. While in this position, said soul must confront invasive jealousy, intense debilitating loneliness, self-absorbed and egotistic friendship, passion for a suitor out of reach, the alarm of ghostly spectres, and the pristine touch of unconditional love.

Initially I must say that Lucy Snow, confoundedly endearing heroine of VILLETTE, is no Jane Eyre: No. Not by any stretch of the imagination. She is, in many ways, quite the opposite. Lucy radically refrains wherein Jane restlessly yearns; Lucy's narration is demure and reticent, while Jane's is warm and open; in turn, the mettle of their respective heroes reflects sharp contrast as well: underneath surface fallibilities, Lucy's is painstakingly unveiled as a most pure moralistic ideal, whereas Jane's is possessed of ominous, deep-seated flaws despite a desperate heart of gold. Fate and providence, too, share sharply divergent roles in these two stories. Hence it must without further ado be disclosed that Charlotte Bronte's final novel was, overall, for me an arduous task to read. Indeed it was! - But I do say this in the very best sense of that word.

Critically, I must say it was a challenge because of the overwhelming amount of French dialogue. I realize that French was to some degree a universal language in Victorian England -quite fluently deciphered, read and spoken amongst the educated population...so I cannot on that note accuse the author of prosaic snobbery. However, as an American in the 21st century, I cannot deny that my tentative knowledge of the French language to some extent limited my absorption of the dialogue. However, this was only a small disadvantage - as I believe the gist is still there despite all.

Moreover, Lucy has an alluring, yet baffling personality- I love her, but cannot for the life of me understand her. This tale is more of an inwardly emotional journey than anything eventfully climaxing or epically engaging. Plot-wise, this merely treks the path of a young English woman completely alone in the world gaining her livelihood in a girls' school on the European continent. Affecting the treads of that path are those, come by choice or obligation, closest to her: her voyeuristic employer Madame Beck, friends - privileged & affectionate childhood companion Polly and vain & frivolous fellow student Ginerva - the handsome & winsome Dr. John, and temperamental & eccentric professor M. Paul. It's truly an inward journey- a seeking and finding of one's own identity: the heroine - enthralled in a life as outwardly oppressive as it is inwardly rich - is undeniably endearing, her story wrought with so many sparkles of pain, so few of bliss.

Without doubt, the hand of providence - of God - is omnipresent in JANE EYRE. In VILLETTE, it is conspicuously absent. For me, to elaborate on this point would take thousands of more words - words which I am, fortunately, too lazy to write right now. I can only say that, after reading both novels, one may be able to see this point as glaringly apparent.

Though my love for VILLETTE is nowhere near so great as my love for JANE EYRE, I must allow that it is in certain respects a greater literary achievement for Charlotte Bronte. The writing herein persistently touches genius, and the characters are meticulously drawn and unforsakenly human.

I was surprised to be the first to comment on this deeply felt work by Charlotte Bronte. Although Jane Eyre will always be my sentimental favorite, I agree with the many critics who see Villette as Charlotte Bronte's best work. Villette's heroine is the lonely and unlovely Lucy Snowe who struggles to free herself from sorrowful past memories of which the details the reader is kept uninformed, and to quell her natural desires for a richer life- full of love, friendship, stimulation, and enjoyment- which she believes is hopelessly out of her reach. Anyone who has ever struggled with loneliness will sympathize with Lucy, whose aloneness Bronte conveys with heartbreaking pathos.
This novel may be a hard read for some who are accustomed to lighter fare. It is certainly not a book that can be read in a day but one that must be slowly enjoyed over a period of time, preferably with a cup of tea.....

Villette has haunted me since I read it as a schoolgirl. When I read it now as an adult it affects me even more than it did then.

It is a masterly rendition of isolation and unrequited love, and the pain of not having intimate and close connections who have claims on you, on whom you can assert claims.

The narrator/heroine is Lucy Snowe - superficially similar to Fanny of Mansfield Park in that she is plain, colourless, melancholy, unassertive and poor. But Lucy Snowe is far, far more interesting, complex, witty, intelligent and engaging than the insipid Fanny. Modern readers can identify with Lucy's hopes, struggles and despairs, probably more than her Victorian contemporaries would have.

Villette is not an all-tragic book. Parts of it are very, very funny. And it has a number of absolutely marvelous, unforgettable, very real characters eg. Mrs Bretton, Ginevra Fanshawe, Madame Beck and even Rosine the portress.

I confess to have always been in love with the handsome Graham Bretton - and who wouldn't be? In the words of Lucy Snowe: "He had his faults, yet scarce ever was a finer nature; liberal, suave, impressible". My first few readings left me totally unimpressed with M Paul Emanuel - I began to appreciate him only as an adult. (I first read Villette at age 12, which is too young for what is really a very mature book).

I know that parts of the book are heavy going - during my first few readings I skipped large chunks of the book and dropped many paragraphs in the parts I did read. A lot of dialogue is in French and still lost to me. But these are minor faults - Villette is one of the best books I have ever read and I cant recommend it strongly enough.

PS : I consider Jane Eyre vastly over-rated. Villette is greatly superior.

I love this book. At times I felt so sad for Lucy that I cried. Having finished reading all of Jane Austen's books right before reading this one, I kept waiting for the part where Lucy would start to look pretty, where she would "get her bloom." Well, not so, which is part of the reason that I love it. It is very realistic. Here is a plain girl who does not get the guy, but perhaps something better in the end, someone that loves her for who she truly is and not what she looks like.

I think the thing about this book that really moved me was that I think we all have a little bit of Lucy in us, that vulnerable, lonely, self-doubting girl, who despite all of this puts on a brave face for the world, not letting people know how she may be falling apart inside. We can all relate to her, we've all been there at some point. It is also inspirational, Lucy withstood a great deal, and was very brave despite her self doubt.

The pen that wrote "Villette" bled inks of many colours. There's the deep, deep red that speaks of powerful needs - the need for warmth, love, life and colour. That red runs into a stormy, purple of anger which, unable to change life's decrees, frequently sickens into a sour yellow of bitterness and sometimes to a thick blanket of despairing white.

What colour should we associate with Bronte's sharp intelligence and keen powers of observation which unfortunately were often spoiled by her intolerance and prejudice? And what with her nauseating but persistent self-deprecation? Grey for the last, I believe, because it's really only a cloud over that purple anger.

A hue particularly mentioned in Villette is pink. Pink is the shade of a dress which symbolised the confusion around her question "What sort of woman am I and what sort should I be?" Each female character represents an attempt to explore the implications of being a particular sort of woman.

The central character, Lucy Snowe, was bullied into wearing a pink dress to a concert. Bronte didn't dare to imagine willingly donning this symbol of frivolous femininity so her character must be forced into wearing it. The dress represents Bronte's longing to be beautiful and the fact that a dress cannot make her look that way is the bitter potion that she bravely swallow in the story.

However there is another aspect to this scene. Lucy Snowe's whole being resonates to the passion of the acting at the concert that she's attending - a passion that her escort doesn't notice. Though dressed in the colour of vapid prettiness, Snowe has an inner fire far stronger than her partner could ever understand and a perceptive intelligence that won't allow her to uncritically adore him.

To explore the problems of being a sensual, sexual female, Bronte invents the character of Ginevra Fanshawe - a carefree, spontaneous lover of life, colour and fun. Lucy, unable to dislike her, cannot accept her either. She sees Ginevra as shallow and insensitive.

The quaintest, saddest condemnation of Ginevra occurs when the latter is seen to exchange such a glance with her escort that the observer could only conclude that more had happened between those two than should between an unmarried couple! Quaint because it was so prudish and yet so romantic. Sad because ah! how Charlotte must have longed for the romance and sexuality that would have occasioned such a glance!

And how Bronte feared a life bereft of passion! Throughout the book there hovers the grey ghost of a nun. The spectre represents lifeless, solitary celibacy with needs forever unmet and the absence of all warmth and colour. (Bronte obviously was not in a position to meet modern nuns who are the very opposite of all this!) The abhorrence that Lucy felt for this female figure reveals Bronte very clearly to us.

The character of Pauline seems to be an uneasy compromise between the figures of the nun and the passionate Ginevra. Lucy describes Pauline as being a fine, pure flame covered by a hoar frost. Pauline has a restraint that Bronte obviously approves of but we also see clearly the urgency of her need for love. Strangely her restraint is also couple with an abject passivity - in the image of her as a child, lying ignored at the foot of the lad she loved. For all that Bronte appears to admire Pauline, she only rewards her with marriage to Dr John - that character unable to respond to the passion expressed by the actress.

Bronte, through the complex and confronting personality of Lucy Snowe, asks herself, "Who am? What am I worth? How will I measure my worth?" She rejects the possible answers of flirtatious sensuality, cold celibacy and pure perfection. How does she answer herself?

An answer comes through her relationship with M. Paul. His learned nature recognises and challenges her intelligence but he also sees her neediness. He doesn't see her, as others do, as prudish and starchy. He even insists that there is such a thing as passion! His unpredictable moods arouse her to stand up to him. His fire and intelligence quicken the same qualities in her so that she can be all that she wants to be without settling for the simpler personalities of the other flatter characters.

Women today can still find "Villette" an interesting exploration of the question, "What sort of woman am I? And who do I want to become?"

There are not many great works of literature to read nowadays, but I read this book while I was living in Bulgaria and it touched my heart so deeply. Written at a very sad time in Bronte's life, Villette's heroine Lucy Snowe was originally supposed to be Lucy Frost, and it shows in her depressed moody character while working as a teacher in Brussels. Bronte did in fact teach in Brussels and she was a student there, she fell in love with the head teacher M. Heger and this book must have brought back the sad memories of his rejection of her affections. Also, I think by the time she finished this book all of her sisters and her one brother had died early deaths. the book was not well-recieved by her critics but I think it is one of the best books ever written and I think George Eliot thought so too!