Villette (Modern Library Classics)

"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."


Unforgettable book, unforgettable characters   December 31, 1999
8 out of 8 found this review helpful

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.


Villette's first Amazon review?   May 29, 2004
Katherine (Houston, TX)
8 out of 8 found this review helpful

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.....


A question of identity   October 21, 2000
11 out of 12 found this review helpful

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?"