When I say that I "really like" this book, what I mean is I really like Jane. I always end up wishing that she'd comprehensively ditch the giant arse that is Rochester, just as she ditched him once before, and just as she ditched the total crushing bore that is St. John. In my ideal version, Jane Eyre takes her portion of the inheritance and runs off to explore the world, free of jerks and not giving the tiniest shit.

Well. She can take Pilot. That poor old dog doesn't seem to living the high life with his miserable git of an owner post-fire either.