I’ll still take Heathcliff….

Autumn demands gothic romances with dark, brooding, inscrutable heroes. So I’m taking refuge in Jane Eyre (even though I kind of hate it and much much much prefer Wuthering Heights) and taking lots of moody walks through the woods behind my old elementary school. I may or may not be taking these walks in long, billowing skirts and chunky knits, with my hair all coiled up on my head in Victorian-style braids. Okay, I am. Whatevs. I BELIEVE IN MAGIC.

Now, Book Cat has some thoughts on Jane Eyre. I note he appears to have misplaced his usual elegance and wit, though he does make a good point…

HOW CAN ANYONE PREFER A DUDE WHO IS A MASSIVE JERK – OH, AND LOCKS UP HIS CRAZY WIFE IN THE ATTTIC – TO HEATHCLIFF? HOW? HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD??? TEAM HEATHCLIFF 4EVERRRR!!!

You know, while I usually detest the film adaptations of classic novels that I love, I think that in this instance, the movies perfectly illustrate the dilemma posed by great Brontë debate, and indeed, its resolution.

Because, c’mon. I mean, I think I’ve made it clear that I love me some of this:

So hot.

But even the great Fassbender cannot compete with this:

HOT! BURNING! SCALDING!!! OW OW OW–

Even Scarlett O’Hara swooned over him… sigh.

P.S. One day, my friends, we will have a legit, mature, intelligent, academic, fancy-pants literati-style discussion about this, I promise you. For now, though, just enjoy the hotties.

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