posted on 27 Feb 2020

Jane Eyre, a retelling by Tanya Landman

Hats off to this award winning YA author for an impressive retelling of a well- known classic story by Charlotte Bronte. She distils the plot considerably but manages to keep the powerful first person narrative thread as a page turner and the strong, likeable character of the central heroine shines throughout.  As such, it is another triumph of publishing from Barrington Stoke that aims to engage and to ‘help emergent, reluctant and dyslexic readers unlock the love of reading’.

It is a long time since I read the original version and I was pleased to see how Tanya Landman retained the atmosphere of loneliness experienced by young Jane at the hands of her unpleasant and uncaring relations:

‘I was not loved.

I was not wanted.

I did not belong’.

This melancholy, that never descends to self- pity, is what I remember most about the story as a vital part of understanding Jane’s developing qualities of wisdom and empathy.  An orphaned child who has to make her way in the world is a staple of children’s literature so this would be familiar territory for many younger readers. After a particularly nasty altercation with her aunt, she is sent away to live out the rest of her childhood at a grim boarding school where she soon learns more survival skills and the importance of self –reliance.

As an adult Jane eventually steps out into the unknown by taking a job as a governess at Thornfield Hall. Here she finds some solace as a valued member of the staff teaching the lively little French ward of her employer, the mysterious Mr Rochester.   The shift from this being a tale of loneliness and oppression towards one of emerging horror and love is one that I found quite difficult in the original story. I was never fascinated by the dangerous appeal of brooding Mr Rochester who always seemed to me to be an inconsiderate bully. But I rather liked him in this version, perhaps because his romantic relationship with Jane is necessarily accelerated given the length of the book. Although he can be very dismissive and curt, there are several occasions where real tenderness shows itself. I also like the way in which the always articulate Jane speaks up for herself and refuses to be intimidated:

‘Do you think I’m a machine without feeling? Do you think because I am poor and plain I’m soulless and heartless? You think wrong! I have as much soul as you and as much heart’.

Without giving away too much of the plot for those who are unfamiliar with the original story, the frequent manic laughter in the attic of the house that Jane hears, turns out to be that of his first wife who is clearly dangerously deranged. The premise is that Rochester was ‘tricked’ into marrying her when living abroad and so he now has to keep her hidden away as a shameful secret, especially as he now plans to marry Jane. I think that this would be an interesting subject to discuss with young people in these (hopefully) more enlightened times.

After a terrible house fire, Mr Rochester is badly injured and his first wife is conveniently dead so Jane is perhaps able to have what we hope is a happy ending to her eventful life. This brings us full circle from the opening lines:

‘And I am loved.

And I am wanted.

And I belong’.

I strongly recommend this excellent adaptation which stands alone as a great little story, and also makes me want to re- read the original.

 

 

Karen Argent

February 2020