Human mind is a fascinating thing and is a never ending source of exploration. Obsessions are the worst, how they gradually build up, and from something that was innocent to begin with, it morphs into a state where it's ludicrous and out of control. Love is a powerful trigger for it. While I hated seeing the characters being naive, defenseless and tormented, I love that the young Brontë woman had courage to write such a striking novel.
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Part of what makes her transcend in literature is her courage, especially being a woman and in her time.
On the other hand, good literature consists of digging into the wound and treading on the delicate terrain of the human mind. To go beyond society's limits and beyond where it hurts and provokes.