Jane Eyre is a book about a woman who hates feeling comfortable. Every meal that passes her lips is full of gravel and self-sufficiency. Sometimes she drinks tea, but more often than not she turns it down suspiciously, for what if within the tea someone had secretly placed the bonds of servitude?? Here is every meal she begrudgingly eats before running away into the hills.
A Bun And Someone Said Something Nice To Me And I Treasured It All The Days Of My Life
“Sometimes she would come up in the interval to seek her thimble or her scissors, or perhaps to bring me something by way of supper—a bun or a cheese-cake—then she would sit on the bed while I ate it, and when I had finished, she would tuck the clothes round me, and twice she kissed me, and said, ‘Good night, Miss Jane.’”
I Reject Your Vain Fripperies And Decadent Tarts
“This precious vessel was now placed on my knee, and I was cordially invited to eat the circlet of delicate pastry upon it. Vain favour! coming, like most other favours long deferred and often wished for, too late! I could not eat the tart; and the plumage of the bird, the tints of the flowers, seemed strangely faded: I put both plate and tart away.”
Surprise Bread
“A little before dark I passed a farm-house, at the open door of which the farmer was sitting, eating his supper of bread and cheese. I stopped and said:
‘Will you give me a piece of bread? for I am very hungry.’ He cast on me a glance of surprise; but without answering, he cut a thick slice from his loaf, and gave it to me. I imagine he did not think I was a beggar, but only an eccentric sort of lady, who had taken a fancy to his brown loaf. As soon as I was out of sight of his house, I sat down and ate it.”
Toast With No Fever In
“Hannah had brought me some gruel and dry toast, about, as I supposed, the dinner-hour. I had eaten with relish: the food was good—void of the feverish flavour which had hitherto poisoned what I had swallowed.”
Some Permission
“It is well for you that a low fever has forced you to abstain for the last three days: there would have been danger in yielding to the cravings of your appetite at first. Now you may eat, though still not immoderately.”
Potato Indifference
“The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely more appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast: the dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels, whence rose a strong steam redolent of rancid fat. I found the mess to consist of indifferent potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and cooked together. Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful was apportioned to each pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered within myself whether every day’s fare would be like this.”
Fragment Rejection
“When it came to my turn, I drank, for I was thirsty, but did not touch the food, excitement and fatigue rendering me incapable of eating: I now saw, however, that it was a thin oaten cake shared into fragments.”
Insufficient Milk And Restraint
“I tasted what they offered me: feebly at first, eagerly soon. ‘Not too much at first – restrain her,’ said the brother; ‘she has had enough.’ And he withdrew the cup of milk and the plate of bread.”
The Bible And Self-Denial
“I have a little boy, younger than you, who knows six Psalms by heart: and when you ask him which he would rather have, a gingerbread-nut to eat or a verse of a Psalm to learn, he says: ‘Oh! the verse of a Psalm! angels sing Psalms.'”
No-Thank-You Boiled Milk
“Bessie, having pressed me in vain to take a few spoonfuls of the boiled milk and bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up some biscuits in a paper and put them into my bag; then she helped me on with my pelisse and bonnet, and wrapping herself in a shawl, she and I left the nursery.”
Eating Berries While Pretending To Be A Monk To Make Hunger And Desperation Feel Like A Game
“I saw ripe bilberries gleaming here and there, like jet beads in the heath: I gathered a handful and ate them with the bread. My hunger, sharp before, was, if not satisfied, appeased by this hermit’s meal.”
Unburnt Not-Enoughs
“Breakfast-time came at last, and this morning the porridge was not burnt; the quality was eatable, the quantity small.”
Lying About Tea
“You must want your tea,” said the good lady, as I joined her; “you ate so little at dinner. I am afraid,” she continued, “you are not well to-day: you look flushed and feverish.”
“Oh, quite well! I never felt better.”
Thinking About Bread-Rinds
“Once more I took off my handkerchief—once more I thought of the cakes of bread in the little shop. Oh, for but a crust!”
Bible Hallucinations
“‘She will have nothing to eat: you will starve her,’ observed Adèle.
‘I shall gather manna for her morning and night: the plains and hillsides in the moon are bleached with manna, Adèle.'”
Surprise Pig-Porridge
“At the door of a cottage I saw a little girl about to throw a mess of cold porridge into a pig trough. ‘Will you give me that?’ I asked.”
Faugh
“Breakfast was over, and none had breakfasted.”
Half Of Uncake
“Almost desperate, I asked for half a cake; she again refused.”
I Can’t Eat A Penny, I’m Not A Robot
“‘A penny cannot feed me, and I have no strength to go farther. Don’t shut the door:—oh, don’t, for God’s sake!'”
The Crust Of Poverty
“I am obscure: Rivers is an old name; but of the three sole descendants of the race, two earn the dependant’s crust among strangers.”
Mallory is an Editor of The Toast.
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LacaunaKale 128p · 470 weeks ago
Did you know that seed cake is made with caraway seeds? I had some once, it's truly food only a starving orphan could appreciate.
erinflachsbart 117p · 470 weeks ago
lauragraceroberts 121p · 470 weeks ago
LOOK IT'S A REAL RISK, SHE IS A BIRD, NO NET ENSNARES HER OK
jifueko 154p · 470 weeks ago
I have a distinct memory of playing "lost princesses" with a friend, during which we tied hand towel kerchiefs to sticks and packed to run away. She was like, "Let's take some gummy worms!"
I looked at her with profound disapproval.
"We're HEROINES, Sarah. We can only take bread and a small hunk of hard cheese."
"But you have gummy worms. There's a big bag in your kitch"--
"LOST PRINCESSES DO NOT HAVE GUMMY WORMS"
Good pretend-partners were hard to find.
phlippin 120p · 470 weeks ago
thezlot 120p · 470 weeks ago
That gingerbread-nut kid gets TWO gingerbread-nuts for pretending he likes Psalms so much, and therefore he gets to be in my dissertation about terrible children (no lie)
singstrix 117p · 470 weeks ago
*LADIES
_bartleby 115p · 470 weeks ago
Paula · 470 weeks ago
MrsDarwin · 470 weeks ago
ronitb 116p · 470 weeks ago
Rhetoric8d 123p · 470 weeks ago
Maybe that's the real roots of the Romantic movement - sublime fixation on unfoodliness.
JudithKharyat 122p · 470 weeks ago
That night, on going to bed, I forgot to prepare in imagination the Barmecide supper of hot roast potatoes, or white bread and new milk, with which I was wont to amuse my inward cravings
kiwinights · 470 weeks ago
"Besides, there were fewer to feed; the sick could eat little; our breakfast-basins
were better filled; when there was no time to prepare a regular dinner, which often happened, she would give us a large piece of cold pie, or a thick slice of bread and cheese, and this we carried away with us to the wood, where we each chose the spot we liked best, and dined sumptuously"
After 50 pages of cold gruel and burnt porridge, this sounded like a feast. I was like "fuck yeah, cheese! And PIE!"
This series is reminding me how much I love novels shaped by the author's fixation from food due to being hungry all the time as a kid. Like Betty Smith in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, or Laura Ingalls Wilder in everything, esp "Farmer Boy," the ultimate food orgy fantasia. Seriously, it's just like 120 pages of her husband inhaling food as a gluttonous young kid. Definitely some subconscious resentment and longing from Laura "We ate salt pork on Sundays if we were lucky" Ingalls there.
thesweetandlowdown 100p · 470 weeks ago
perianwen 105p · 470 weeks ago
H.C. · 470 weeks ago
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZHm3gTAuOw
MopRocks 118p · 470 weeks ago
Nausikaa 101p · 470 weeks ago
malsperanza 112p · 470 weeks ago
FIFY, Charlotte.
missstirling 102p · 470 weeks ago
femmefan1946 77p · 470 weeks ago
Because; whoever heard of a world without electricity? Wow.
That seedcake was beaten by hand and raised by eggwhites because there was no baking powder. Just for the record.
Andy · 470 weeks ago
A fanfiction writer years ago compiled them into a list, and it had some qualities in common with this one
http://www.bishink.org/vs/roomlist.htm
"The Body Fragile Yields"
"The Crust Of Poverty."
The tone seemed very similar! to me
susanintoronto 80p · 470 weeks ago
What about the Orange? Yes, there is an orange in this book. It's the salary Jane pays the little orphan girl who works as her maid in the village school funded by Mr. Oliver. At least, on the first day. The little orphan child, Alice Wood by name, is still hard at it on Nov 5, a holiday (perhaps she's non-union?) and Jane pays her in real coin this time. A penny. She is well satisfied.
Query: would the orange be worth more or less than a penny, and where did Jane get it in rural Yorkshire in the fall?
insearchofmornings 86p · 470 weeks ago
* I was desperate to have something in common with my ex while we were still together, and he wouldn't read my books, so I was reading his. Yeah. Don't date people who do that. He still wouldn't talk about books with me. Chatting someone up in a bookshop: it may not turn out as well as you hope, even if they are the assistant manager.
nimyjohn2016 12p · 467 weeks ago
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