“I would always rather be happy than dignified.” – Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
I am a lover of literature, of all genres and varieties.
I spend most of my time in libraries, and most of my life in the world of my heart and imagination.
I prefer fictional characters to real people in almost all circumstances…and I do not think it is strange to have conversations with them, in my head or aloud.
I am a twentysomething year old aspiring writer, living in Toronto, Canada. I very recently completed my Master’s in English Literature at the University of Toronto, after receiving an Honours Bachelor of Arts with majors in English Literature and French Language studies.
I enjoyed working toward my respective degrees and there is, naturally, a sense of accomplishment associated with obtaining an MA, but sometime during my first semester of the MA program (so relatively early in the process) I became extremely dissatisfied with writing and speaking critically about literature. I understand the importance of literary criticism, especially to the field of Humanities as a whole, but I began to find it increasingly difficult to analyze and interrogate novels and poems (and really all other types of texts, including film, theatre and art) that I knew and loved so well.
For a young woman who fancies herself a Victorian at her heart’s core, it is almost impossible, for example, to critique the actions and decisions of Mr. Rochester or to be skeptical of Jane Eyre’s narrative voice. It seemed that I had spent far too many years evaluating and analyzing my favourite literary characters, both verbally and in writing, while simultaneously defending and idolizing them (often most viscerally and vehemently) in the world of my heart. More disconcerting than anything was the fact that I struggled to even call these individuals mere characters – in my mind, figures such as Edward Rochester, Jane Eyre, and a host of others who you will read about on this blog, were and are much more than simple literary constructions…they are almost real people, they are so vivid and complex and full of emotion that I have come to call many of them my truest and dearest friends.
I got through the MA program in one piece, albeit after silencing my inner voice on several occasions, the voice that told me that everything I said in class and wrote in essays lacked the passion I was once so proud of. I decided, sometime during my discontent, to start this literary blog in order to stop censoring that inner voice, in order to let those violent and forceful and perhaps unreasonable and illogical emotions through.
Thank you for reading and welcome to the World of my Heart!
Janille N G
Girl with a Green Heart