Villette was Charlotte Brontë's final novel. I think that's evident in the groundedness of her plot (here groundedness is relative - I mean in comparison to Jane Eyre, not real life) and the dimensionality of her characters. I especially liked Paul Emmanuel - because I didn't like him at first, but I realized how Lucy fell for him by the end. This is not a burning passion from the start, and I appreciate that cool level-headedness from our heroine. 

I liked a lot of things about Lucy; she is probably the most likeable (to my tastes, anyway) Brontë heroine thus far. Sure, she's got a morality stick up her ass, but I like her directness, her lack of sentimentality, and that she makes the most queer-esque comments. (Yes, I am a bisexual Lucy Snowe truther - what else was that description of Madame Beck when she was trying to figure out where Doctor John's interests were?) 

I'm obsessed, too, with how radical the Protestant-Catholic conflict and its resolution were. I was so sure one of them was going to end up converting, so I was thrilled to see them accept each other and still love each other with that religious difference.

Also, while the resolution to the ghost nun plot was funny, I wish it'd been left without explanation.

What an immersive book. It flagged at points--and it's probably a bad sign I thought the final love interest was two different people until nearly the end--but it is a lovely work in all. I liked the ending, though I can see why it doesn't resonate as much as Jane Eyre with most people. Worth a re-read once you know all the things Lucy is being a bit obtuse about. 

This novel was a true character study and an internal reflection on unrequited love. The narrator, Lucy Snowe, struggles with her self-image and seems to be an observer of her own life. Melancholy and reflective, she watches others around her live their lives in selfish, spontaneous, secretive, fantastic ways, while she leads a solitary, introspective life. In this quiet manner, she longs for those out of her reach or those whose attention is captured by another. In this way, she lives, loves, and loses in solitude.

There is a wide range of characters in this novel, such as the dashing Dr. John, the fairy-like Paulina, the giddy Ginevra, and the brooding M. Paul. However, these descriptions come from Lucy's point of view. The first person narration allows for much internal reflection, but also allows for unreliable narration from Lucy. She tends to omit details or revelations until later in the novel, which would have made characters or events seen differently by the reader. For example,

M. Paul is painted in an almost bipolar and abusive light at the beginning of the novel, with his brooding and yelling at students and Lucy herself. However, the reader learns later that he has an affinity for gardening and takes care of a small spaniel that follows him around the grounds. If Lucy would have divulged these details earlier, M. Paul might have been more likeable and a much more sympathetic character.

 

What surprised me most about this novel was how little I liked Lucy. Usually the reader is meant to like or at least relate to the narrator, but not in Villette. Lucy is unreliable and so melancholy that often I was frustrated with her moods or lack of decisions. After a while, though, I came to appreciate that move by Charlotte Bronte. By creating an unlikeable narrator, the reader is distanced from the novel and takes Lucy's place as an outside observer. Instead of relating to Lucy and being put in her shoes that way, the reader is made to feel like she feels, looking at others' actions in an objective way, unable to give any input.

The pace of this book is fairly slow, but it does make you feel. The last five chapters were really a roller coaster of emotions. This isn't a happy book. It's about the pain of feeling like an outsider, and the pain of someone you love not loving you back. It took me a while to get through, but it is definitely worth the read if you're in the mood for something a little painful, but that makes you appreciate the value of life.