Over the last two weeks I’ve been very slowly reading:
Book 34 – The Professor, by Charlotte Bronte. This story follows the experiences of William Crimsworth, a man without means, as he gives up his family ties and makes a new life for himself in Belgium as a teacher.
This is a book that probably hasn’t aged well (much like Agnes Grey). There are several reasons for this. Firstly, there are fairly significant portions written in French; this is something I can generally work out but I certainly think it gave the book an old-fashioned feel. Secondly, once again the characters are fairly unengaging – Crimsworth is a cold, arrogant and self-involved; his love is dull and relegates herself to his junior even when it is clear she has more drive and talent than he.
Other things that affected my enjoyment of the book include the massive signpost of his future love, the casual racism and the sheer length of the thing. There seemed to be three or four completely separate segments, which just kept going even when there was little left to say. I had thought an end was coming but there were over 50 more pages to go! I certainly don’t think the story benefitted from exploring a dog being exposed to rabies and shot; it gave nothing in terms of character development, and seemed more filler than anything else.
When it did finally end it was with a whimper, not a bang.
As you can probably guess from this, I feel disappointed because I really wanted to enjoy this tale – it had a lot of contemporary realism embedded in it, from the nature of factory towns to the consideration of a man of no means being able to marry.
I have left this behind anyway, and am on to the next story (not one of those listed last week!) – it’s not one I’ll read again or recommend to anyone but if nothing else it’s given me an additional push to move away from the classics and look at some newer work for a while!
Happy reading,
EJ
🙂
Becoming a writer 
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