how can one stop, turn eye away from words burning, passages engaging, chapters drawing.
my desire, a swift Santa Ana, blows away ashes, and exposes the clinker with which Currer Bell née Brontë, dearest Charlotte Brontë, reignites passion.
Villette, misunderstood by many accounts, resonates. intelligenlty ironic; catholically cynical. phenomenally feminist.
p. 241...many more to come.
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