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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âWhat do you mean?â
âHe is come. I am certain I saw Murgatroyd lead his horse into the yard by the back-way, when I went to get some water at the pump five minutes since. He was in the countinghouse with Joe Scott, I believe.â
âYou are mistaken.â
âWhat should I be mistaken for? I know his horse surely?â
âBut you did not see himself?â
âI heard him speak, though. He was saying something to Joe Scott about having settled all concerning ways and means, and that there would be a new set of frames in the mill before another week passed, and that this time he would get four soldiers from Stilbroâ barracks to guard the wagon.â
âSarah, are you making a gown?â
âYes. Is it a handsome one?â
âBeautiful! Get the coffee ready. Iâll finish cutting out that sleeve for you, and Iâll give you some trimming for it. I have some narrow satin ribbon of a colour that will just match it.â
âYouâre very kind, miss.â
âBe quick; thereâs a good girl. But first put your masterâs shoes on the hearth: he will take his boots off when he comes in. I hear him; he is coming.â
âMiss, you are cutting the stuff wrong.â
âSo I am; but it is only a snip. There is no harm done.â
The kitchen door opened; Mr. Moore entered, very wet and cold. Caroline half turned from her dressmaking occupation, but renewed it for a moment, as if to gain a minuteâs time for some purpose. Bent over the dress, her face was hidden; there was an attempt to settle her features and veil their expression, which failed. When she at last met Mr. Moore, her countenance beamed.
âWe had ceased to expect you. They asserted you would not come,â she said.
âBut I promised to return soon. You expected me, I suppose?â
âNo, Robert; I dared not when it rained so fast. And you are wet and chilled. Change everything. If you took cold, I shouldâ âwe should blame ourselves in some measure.â
âI am not wet through: my riding-coat is waterproof. Dry shoes are all I require. Thereâ âthe fire is pleasant after facing the cold wind and rain for a few miles.â
He stood on the kitchen hearth; Caroline stood beside him. Mr. Moore, while enjoying the genial glow, kept his eyes directed towards the glittering brasses on the shelf above. Chancing for an instant to look down, his glance rested on an uplifted face, flushed, smiling, happy, shaded with silky curls, lit with fine eyes. Sarah was gone into the parlour with the tray; a lecture from her mistress detained her there. Moore placed his hand a moment on his young cousinâs shoulder, stooped, and left a kiss on her forehead.
âOh!â said she, as if the action had unsealed her lips, âI was miserable when I thought you would not come. I am almost too happy now. Are you happy, Robert? Do you like to come home?â
âI think I doâ âtonight, at least.â
âAre you certain you are not fretting about your frames, and your business, and the war?â
âNot just now.â
âAre you positive you donât feel Hollowâs Cottage too small for you, and narrow, and dismal?â
âAt this moment, no.â
âCan you affirm that you are not bitter at heart because rich and great people forget you?â
âNo more questions. You are mistaken if you think I am anxious to curry favour with rich and great people. I only want meansâ âa positionâ âa career.â
âWhich your own talent and goodness shall win you. You were made to be great; you shall be great.â
âI wonder now, if you spoke honestly out of your heart, what recipe you would give me for acquiring this same greatness; but I know itâ âbetter than you know it yourself. Would it be efficacious? Would it work? Yesâ âpoverty, misery, bankruptcy. Oh, life is not what you think it, Lina!â
âBut you are what I think you.â
âI am not.â
âYou are better, then?â
âFar worse.â
âNo; far better. I know you are good.â
âHow do you know it?â
âYou look so, and I feel you are so.â
âWhere do you feel it?â
âIn my heart.â
âAh! You judge me with your heart, Lina: you should judge me with your head.â
âI do; and then I am quite proud of you. Robert, you cannot tell all my thoughts about you.â
Mr. Mooreâs dark face mustered colour; his lips smiled, and yet were compressed; his eyes laughed, and yet he resolutely knit his brow.
âThink meanly of me, Lina,â said he. âMen, in general, are a sort of scum, very different to anything of which you have an idea. I make no pretension to be better than my fellows.â
âIf you did, I should not esteem you so much. It is because you are modest that I have such confidence in your merit.â
âAre you flattering me?â he demanded, turning sharply upon her, and searching her face with an eye of acute penetration.
âNo,â she said softly, laughing at his sudden quickness. She seemed to think it unnecessary to proffer any eager disavowal of the charge.
âYou donât care whether I think you flatter me or not?â
âNo.â
âYou are so secure of your own intentions?â
âI suppose so.â
âWhat are they, Caroline?â
âOnly to ease my mind by expressing for once part of what I think, and then to make you better satisfied with yourself.â
âBy assuring me that my kinswoman is my sincere friend?â
âJust so. I am your sincere friend, Robert.â
âAnd I amâ âwhat chance and change shall make me, Lina.â
âNot my enemy, however?â
The answer was cut short by Sarah and her mistress entering the kitchen together in some commotion. They had been improving the time which Mr. Moore and Miss Helstone had spent in dialogue by a short dispute on the subject of âcafĂ© au lait,â which Sarah said was the queerest mess she ever saw, and a waste of Godâs good gifts, as it was âthe nature of coffee to be boiled in water,â and which mademoiselle affirmed to be âun breuvage royal,â a thousand times too good for the mean person who objected to it.
The former occupants of the kitchen now withdrew into the parlour. Before Hortense followed them thither, Caroline had only
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