"I Mentally Shake Your Hand."

That, my friends, is one of the more memorable quotes from the movie version of Jane Eyre, which my friend Miranda and I went and saw tonight.  I plan on using it as often as possible.

Besides the occasional laugh-inducing line ("Ladies, I pray you return to your nests like the dove that you are" was another favorite), I actually thought it was quite the good movie.  It had much more of a suspense/thriller movie vibe about it than I expected; at one point, I made an unmerited and (louder than necessary) squeaky-squealy noise because Jane touched a bit of tapestry and I thought something horrible was about to leap from behind it (much to the amusement of my friend).  That kind of movie.  Unfortunately, although I've never read Jane Eyre, it turns out the one plot point that I was aware of is the big gigantic climactic secret that is supposed to come as a huge shock and give you all this emotional chagrin and such.  Oh well. I saw it coming all along.  I won't reveal it here in case any of you readers are planning on seeing the movie, but chances are if you've read Jane Eyre (or only know one thing about Jane Eyre), you most likely know what I'm talking about.

I came to three important conclusions watching this movie:

1) I'm glad that I live in the days of electricity, and don't have to wander giant 19th century castle-esque English homes in the dead of night with only a flickering candle to light up the space around me.

2) I think that if you were treated well, being a governess would be kind of a sweet gig; paid room and board, and spending the day teaching a kid about stuff and playing badminton and such.  Of course, you could be treated horribly and have really bratty kids to deal with, so I guess it goes both ways.

3) The Bronte sisters must have had some kind of weird childhood to get Cathy's ghost scratching at the window in Wuthering Heights on Emily's end and the creep-tastic moments of Jane Eyre from Charlotte.  It was probably wandering those giant houses at night and eerie stories that some dissatisfied governess told them that did it.

It was a good movie.  If you like movies that make you jump, classic literature, or  the 19th century, you should go see it.

When we came out of the theater, the weather was all Bronte-tastic with foreboding winds.  It turns out these were the precursor to severe thunderstorms that never actually hit Dallas proper, but were strong enough in neighboring areas to give us a few giant thunderclaps and set the tornado sirens going off for a bit from the heavy winds (though not from tornadoes).  I therefore spent much of the remainder of the evening alternately watching TV weather anxiously and looking out the window anxiously.  Thankfully, the storms never did much in Dallas, and now they've completely moved to the east.  I'm not a fan of storms, particularly when they involve tornado sirens and I live alone and don't have a basement in which to take shelter.

Although, this weather is probably the perfect setting for writing a Bronte-esque novel.  I'll keep that in mind next time a storm comes my way.