Title: Too dramatic, too weepy, too bad.
Review: If I had a better grip on what it was like to be a woman during the era in which this was written I would probably like this novel a lot more. But to be quite honest I found it to be almost unbearably boring and drawn out. It simply reeks of the style of the times, which was to so forcefully over dramatize everything that work now seems almost comical. The point of the novel was supposedly to show how Eyre was able to overcome the sexism of her time, but in the end it seems as though she gave in to the sexism and ended up getting lucky. The plot is weak, the characters are unrealistic, and the language is far too melancholy. I won't argue that it was progressive for its time, simply because of the fact it was written by a woman and openly spoke out against the sexism in society, but in our times I'm afraid the message has been lost in its tediousness and extremity.
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