The effects of Brontë

The method employed for the weaving of Jane Eyre is one that entices my imagination and excites my emotions. I can but bear only minimal separation from the story before I must return, quite suddenly, to its lustrous enfolding arms. I find it disturbing to see myself behave this way, as if watching through a window or at a distance, but I cannot help the act. In fact, I am quite unable to elicit any control over my pangs and longings whatsoever.

For something so old and so simple, this story resonates with me with astounding depth. I wonder that I have so long forgotten its powers. I feel, at this moment, that I will never be found to put this book down, but will continually start again at the beginning once the end has been reached. However, I seriously feel as though my time should be spent in more serious activities.

I do rather enjoy, however, the change wrought to my writing when I over indulge in old English. I find the exercise refreshing and soothing in the same stroke.