Shirley by Charlotte BrontĂ« (best books to read for teens .TXT) đ
Description
Shirley, published in 1849, was Charlotte BrontĂ«âs second novel after Jane Eyre. Published under her pseudonym of âCurrer Bell,â it differs in several respects from that earlier work. It is written in the third person with an omniscient narrator, rather than the first-person of Jane Eyre, and incorporates the themes of industrial change and the plight of unemployed workers. It also features strong pleas for the recognition of womenâs intellect and right to their independence of thought and action.
Set in the West Riding of Yorkshire during the Napoleonic period of the early 19th Century, the novel describes the confrontations between textile manufacturers and organized groups of workers protesting the introduction of mechanical looms. Three characters stand out: Robert Moore, a mill-owner determined to introduce modern methods despite sometimes violent opposition; his young cousin Caroline Helstone, who falls deeply in love with Robert; and Shirley Keeldar, a rich heiress who comes to live in the estate of Fieldhead, on whose land Robertâs mill stands. Robertâs business is in trouble, not so much because of the protests of the workers but because of a government decree which prevents him selling his finished cloth overseas during the duration of the war with Napoleon. He receives a loan from Miss Keeldar, and her interest in him seems to be becoming a romantic one, much to the distress of Caroline, who pines away for lack of any sign of affection from Robert.
Shirley Keeldar is a remarkable female character for the time: strong, very independent-minded, dismissive of much of the standard rules of society, and determined to decide on her own future. Interestingly, up to this point, the name âShirleyâ was almost entirely a male name; Shirleyâs parents had hoped for a boy. Such was the success of BrontĂ«âs novel, however, that it became increasingly popular as a female name and is now almost exclusively so.
Although never as popular or successful as the more classically romantic Jane Eyre, Shirley is nevertheless now highly regarded by critics.
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- Author: Charlotte Brontë
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âI had some quills to make into pens. Most menâs hands would have trembled when their hearts were so stirred; mine went to work steadily, and my voice, when I called it into exercise, was firm.
âââThis day week you will be alone at Fieldhead, Miss Keeldar.â
âââYes: I rather think my uncleâs intention to go is a settled one now.â
âââHe leaves you dissatisfied.â
âââHe is not pleased with me.â
âââHe departs as he cameâ âno better for his journey. This is mortifying.â
âââI trust the failure of his plans will take from him all inclination to lay new ones.â
âââIn his way Mr. Sympson honestly wished you well. All he has done or intended to do he believed to be for the best.â
âââYou are kind to undertake the defence of a man who has permitted himself to treat you with so much insolence.â
âââI never feel shocked at, or bear malice for, what is spoken in character; and most perfectly in character was that vulgar and violent onset against me, when he had quitted you worsted.â
âââYou cease now to be Henryâs tutor?â
âââI shall be parted from Henry for a while (if he and I live we shall meet again somehow, for we love each other) and be ousted from the bosom of the Sympson family forever. Happily this change does not leave me stranded; it but hurries into premature execution designs long formed.â
âââNo change finds you off your guard. I was sure, in your calm way, you would be prepared for sudden mutation. I always think you stand in the world like a solitary but watchful, thoughtful archer in a wood. And the quiver on your shoulder holds more arrows than one; your bow is provided with a second string. Such too is your brotherâs wont. You two might go forth homeless hunters to the loneliest western wilds; all would be well with you. The hewn tree would make you a hut, the cleared forest yield you fields from its stripped bosom, the buffalo would feel your rifle-shot, and with lowered horns and hump pay homage at your feet.â
âââAnd any Indian tribe of Blackfeet or Flatheads would afford us a bride, perhaps?â
âââNoâ (hesitating), âI think not. The savage is sordid. I thinkâ âthat is, I hopeâ âyou would neither of you share your hearth with that to which you could not give your heart.â
âââWhat suggested the wild West to your mind, Miss Keeldar? Have you been with me in spirit when I did not see you? Have you entered into my daydreams, and beheld my brain labouring at its scheme of a future?â
âShe had separated a slip of paper for lighting tapersâ âa spill, as it is calledâ âinto fragments. She threw morsel by morsel into the fire, and stood pensively watching them consume. She did not speak.
âââHow did you learn what you seem to know about my intentions?â
âââI know nothing. I am only discovering them now. I spoke at hazard.â
âââYour hazard sounds like divination. A tutor I will never be again; never take a pupil after Henry and yourself; not again will I sit habitually at another manâs tableâ âno more be the appendage of a family. I am now a man of thirty; I have never been free since I was a boy of ten. I have such a thirst for freedom, such a deep passion to know her and call her mine, such a day-desire and night-longing to win her and possess her, I will not refuse to cross the Atlantic for her sake; her I will follow deep into virgin woods. Mine it shall not be to accept a savage girl as a slaveâ âshe could not be a wife. I know no white woman whom I love that would accompany me; but I am certain Liberty will await me, sitting under a pine. When I call her she will come to my loghouse, and she shall fill my arms.â
âShe could not hear me speak so unmoved, and she was moved. It was rightâ âI meant to move her. She could not answer me, nor could she look at me. I should have been sorry if she could have done either. Her cheek glowed as if a crimson flower through whose petals the sun shone had cast its light upon it. On the white lid and dark lashes of her downcast eye trembled all that is graceful in the sense of half-painful, half-pleasing shame.
âSoon she controlled her emotion, and took all her feelings under command. I saw she had felt insurrection, and was waking to empire. She sat down. There was that in her face which I could read. It said, I see the line which is my limit; nothing shall make me pass it. I feelâ âI know how far I may reveal my feelings, and when I must clasp the volume. I have advanced to a certain distance, as far as the true and sovereign and undegraded nature of my kind permits; now here I stand rooted. My heart may break if it is baffled; let it break. It shall never dishonour me; it shall never dishonour my sisterhood in me. Suffering before degradation! death before treachery!
âI, for my part, said, âIf she were poor,
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