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Format: Global Grey free PDF, epub, Kindle ebook
Pages (PDF): 532
Publication Date: 1847
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PDF | ePub | KindleSummary:
Jane Eyre follows the emotions and experiences of its title character, including her growth to adulthood, and her love for Mr. Rochester, the byronic master of fictitious Thornfield Hall. In its internalisation of the action — the focus is on the gradual unfolding of Jane's moral and spiritual sensibility, and all the events are coloured by a heightened intensity that was previously the domain of poetry — Jane Eyre revolutionised the art of fiction.
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Excerpt:
There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.
The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, “She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner—something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were—she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children.”
“What does Bessie say I have done?” I asked.
“Jane, I don’t like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent.”
A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.
Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.
I returned to my book—Bewick’s History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of “the solitary rocks and promontories” by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape—
“Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls,
Boils round the naked, melancholy isles
Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge
Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.”
Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with “the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space,—that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold.” Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children’s brains, but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking.
I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with its inscribed headstone; its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly-risen crescent, attesting the hour of eventide.
The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine phantoms.
The fiend pinning down the thief’s pack behind him, I passed over quickly: it was an object of terror.
So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows.
Each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting: as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings, when she chanced to be in good humour; and when, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery hearth, she allowed us to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs. Reed’s lace frills, and crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads; or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland.
With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. The breakfast-room door opened.
“Boh! Madam Mope!” cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty.
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Jane Eyre Audiobook Free Download For Mac
Book Rating (127)
Narrator Rating (55)
Unabridged Audiobook
Written By: Charlotte Bronte
Narrated By: Elizabeth Klett
Duration: 18 hours 40 minutes
Summary:
Charlotte Bronte's classic novel Jane Eyre is narrated by the title character, an orphan who survives neglect and abuse to become a governess at the remote Thornfield Hall. She finds a kindred spirit in her employer, the mysterious and brooding Mr. Rochester, but he hides a terrible secret that threatens their chances of happiness.
Jane Eyre Pdf Free Download
Genres:Elisabeth Klett is a joy to listen to! Her ability to master several characters is more like the selections I have paid for. It is her reading of the story that made Jane Eyre a book I will never forget! I do believe that this a story that women will enjoy, So ladies, do yourselves a favor and enter the world of Jane Eyre. Thank you Elisabeth!
5 of 5 people found this review helpful.
Re-reading my classics on my daily two hours in the car. Ms Clett is a wonderful narrator and made Jane Eyre quite entertaining. One of my favorite books of all time
2 of 2 people found this review helpful.
Love it. The narrator did an excellent job. She made the book very intriguing.
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
This was a wonderful listen and the narrator is one of the best. I would listen to anything she reads.
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
Rich emotional depth and descriptions. Story of personal trials, sins, redemption, and the struggle of life's choices.
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
Really good narrator, like a professional, the best I have heard so far on librevox.
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
Elizabeth Klett was an amazing narrator!!
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
Good narration of my favorite book!
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
I became a fan of Bronte with this book. Elizabeth Klett was a joy to listen to
Blurry puddle of mudd download youtube. 1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
Great old novel. Elizabeth Klett reads very well and keeps you interested in the story.
1 of 1 people found this review helpful.
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