We are told time and again not to judge a book by its cover.
But we hardly listen anyway.
Let's face it -- we are visual creatures. For the majority of us, the gift of seeing is so centric to our experiences that we would hate to be blind. It's why we make movie adaptations of books or make scrapbooks and photo albums. Just take into account the English language and the way we often substitute the word
understand with
see. Behold the following example:
"I don't understand the point of creating Twilight-inspired covers for classic literature when these covers have absolutely no relevance to the actual stories."
"I don't see the point of creating Twilight-inspired covers for classic literature when these covers have absolutely no relevance to the actual stories."
See what I mean? (Harr, harr.) The message is essentially the same.
So if we are to follow this logic, it would make sense that the first impression we get of a book is the way that the book's cover is visually presented to us.
I'm incredibly chagrined right now (yes,
chagrined... a word in the English language that's been overly abused by SMeyer throughout the Twilight Saga. Hope she doesn't commit the same crime again in her other books). We all know the cover designs of SMeyer's books with the red, white, and black color motifs. In a previous post, I remarked on how annoyed I was that there is a Twilight-ish cover for
Wuthering Heights. There are other classics that have fallen victim to this trend, such as
Romeo & Juliet and
Pride & Prejudice.
Just look at these covers:
Now I'm flipping annoyed at the brilliant morons responsible for trying to market
Jane Eyre as THIS:
It has nothing to do with flowers, especially not red flowers. Ditto with the red lips and the red nail polish, and the eerie albino-ish skin. Don't get me wrong. I like this cover -- very much. There's something alluring about the contrasting vividness between red and white. It's pretty. I think this cover might work if the book was some kind of retelling of Snow White. That would be interesting then, to think about the story and how it relates to the cover insofar as symbolism is concerned.
But for a story like Charlotte Bronte's
Jane Eyre?
It is, quite simply, a travesty.
It's like trying to market dangerously seductive blood-drinking demons when there really aren't any to be found in the book (sound familiar?). That would be false advertising.
And okay, I'm sure there's the argument that I should take a chill pill because these are fictional works I'm talking about, not some newfangled miracle drug that is really an epic failure in disguise. I get that there are plot twists that could surprise us, and could even possibly change our whole perspective on a particular thing (like impressionable tweens changing their perceptions of antiquated bloodsucking ghouls as being the ideal soul mate). That's fine, really, because it's fiction. You're allowed to imagine what you want to imagine, so long as you are mentally stable enough to recognize the fine line separating your reveries from the reality of your situation.
None of the female characters in
Jane Eyre even remotely resemble the anonymous woman on the cover. Not even the pretty Blanche Ingram (the woman that Jane was jealous of), who was described as having a lovely olive complexion. Bertha Mason was described as being of Creole descent, so I highly doubt that she'd look chalk white. Jane Eyre herself was plain governess (hence the term "Plain Jane") and had simple tastes, so she can't be the woman on the cover. Besides, what would a governess in the 19th century -- who
refused to buy or wear purple and pink silk dresses that Rochester picked out for her -- be doing wearing bright red lipstick and crimson nail polish?
It's nonsense.
And what is the red flower supposed to represent anyway? "Bleeding Love," as Leona Lewis would call it?
I don't think so.
Jane certainly isn't as fragile or delicate as a flower, I'll tell you that. She's more like Tsuchi Makino (the protagonist in the Japanese manga/anime/drama "Boys Over Flowers"), whose name means weed. And no, I am not speaking of cannibis here. Rather, no matter how much you try to pull out a weed with your bare hands, it's still there. Persisting. Growing. Flourishing. The weed knows where its roots are and clings to the soil that it's known for so long, just as Jane (and Tsuchi Makino) knows her true self and clings steadfastly to her morality and beliefs despite the adversity she endures. Jane is determined as she is passionate.
Okay. Maybe red is supposed to represent passion, such as the passion that Jane and Edward Rochester feel for each other. (If you ask me, Rochester loses himself to passion way too many times to be called rational, given the nature of his misdeeds and his temperament).
Is their love supposed to be represented by the flower? The freakishly white lady on the cover looks like she's giving the flower as a gift, offering it to someone the way she would give them her heart (metaphorically speaking).
On the other hand, I still maintain that flowers represent fragility -- flowers easily wilt if not cared properly, they lose their petals, they can get crushed or shrivel up and die, etc. Just analyze Ophelia and her behavior during her madness speech just before she drowned herself in Shakespeare's "Hamlet," if you're still not convinced.
But I think that Jane and Rochester's love is stronger than that, so much so that they both hallucinated -- hearing each other call out the other's name -- on the same night (freaky coincidence or not?). And despite his misdeeds, Edward Rochester learns his lesson. Jane all the more loves him for it, and loves him even more despite his disfigurement. Meanwhile, Rochester loves Jane for her determination, her fierce loyalty, her honesty, and her sense of individuality. They're both not what most people consider physically attractive, but they have qualities that transcend outer beauty. If that's not true love, I don't know what is.
While we're on the subject of true love, riddle me this: Why do Bella and Edward love each other?
I still don't get that, aside from that Bella smells like flowers and Edward is nothing more than a sparkly, hard (double entendre totally intended, hehe) statue. That's lust, really.
I actually feel cheated, having read the series and the first book twice, that I cannot find any substantial evidence (specific examples) of this love the two supposedly harbor for each other. Edward strikes me as extremely controlling and psychologically debilitating (what kind of boyfriend, praytell, tampers with his true love's truck in order to keep her away from people he does not approve of?), whereas Bella (even though she
sometimes rebels) lets him perpetually screw with her mind and whines about how craptastic her life is without her vampire lover. Sure, Edward
can't read her mind. But he sure knows how to manipulate someone into following his orders (as in "No, you cannot see Jacob, Bella. I am perfectly capable of holding back my affections from you if you see that guy again. No more make-out sessions, and
certainly no sexing until we are married!"). I don't know if Edward is really protecting his "virtue" (saying that he has a "virtue" is kind of debatable, given that I'm accusing him of manipulation). But I commend him for his abstinance views and his belief that sex is the ultimate expression of love. HOWEVER, Edward knew how much Bella was crazy for him and would pretty much do anything to get into his pants. So he traps her into marrying him. Even though she doesn't ever want to get married, given the backstory about her mother marrying straight out of high school and getting pregant (which happens to Bella later on, of course). That, to me, is manipulation at its finest. It's no better than tricking a guy into marrying you because you're pregnant, even though he doesn't love you and he's only doing what he thinks is the right thing.
So if anyone has any insight into why SMeyer's power couple love each other, please enlighten me and cite specific examples. There's nothing more annoying than a Twihard who types in chatspeak and treats the books as if they're the absolute word of God: "B3cuz d3y jusz do, okz?! N if u cnt ex3pt dat, ur jusz jeloz of bellz cusz sh3 got a hot vamp boyfr3n dat spaklz in deh sun n U DUNTZ! TRU LUV RULZ!"
How the heck can anyone take the above statement seriously?
Anyway, the point that I'm trying to make here is that we should strive to keep the integrity of well-loved classics alive. If a publishing company wants to release a new and updated edition of an old classic by changing the cover, then the cover design should at least have a degree of relevance to the heart of the story. Covers shouldn't be there to simply "prettify" the work of literature any more than the use of purple prose to "prettify" one's shitty writing. Covers should complement the written text in some way, and they should serve to supplement our understanding of a story.
Twihard tweens and Twihard moms might not mind buying this particular edition of
Jane Eyre, because it reminds them so much of their favorite saga, even though the cover design has nothing to do with the story whatsoever. Sure, literacy rates have probably increased because people are rabidly gobbling up the Twilight Saga and the overly obsessed will want to buy anything that remotely reminds them of the series without blinking twice.
But that doesn't mean good literature should be sucked of its soul (pun totally intended).
This spoils the beloved classic for the rest of us who don't give a bat's guano over Edward's veggie vamp sparkle powers -- we're not that gullible. It is an insult to assume that consumers who buy the new edition (at least those who like to overanalyze what they read, like me) will overlook the significance of the cover art.
Because I do judge a book by its cover. I may not judge the cover when I first see the book, and the cover may not be the reason I purchase a book, but I do judge it. After reading a book, I think about the imagery and the motifs that pop up throughout the story, and I try to explain the significance of the cover design based on my knowledge and understanding of the story. If a book's cover is irrelevant to the integrity of the story, then consider this blogger one greatly disappointed bookworm.
