I am in the middle of reading Jane Eyre and enjoying it very much. My book club has made a decision to read one classic novel over the year; somewhat of a departure from our usual best seller fare. We do have eclectic taste, but rereading the classics is still a far cry from 50 Shades of Grey.
There is a certain rhythm to reading a classic novel. There is no multitasking, as is my habit; both reading and watching television at the same time. You need to give these novels your full attention and absorb the words and get lost in the beauty and pace of the language. It has been since high school that I have read any of these novels and I wonder if my middle age eyes and perspective will be different than that of a 17 year old girl. Also, there is the joy of reading for pleasure, rather than an assignment with an exam and paper to follow.
These novels are called classics for a reason and deserve to be revisited time and time again. They evoke memories of the first time read and how the words and phrases made you feel and more importantly made you think. I can still remember reading Little Women and wanting to be Jo or my junior year in high school, the sadness I felt for Heather Prynne, in The Scarlet Letter.
I am thankful for my book club for many reasons and giving me a reason to pick up and read my favorite classic novels again, at this stage in my life, has been a great gift. I will be caught up in the world of Jane Eyre all day today and happy to be there.