From Nepal to Rochester; Or, Trekking with Jane Eyre

As I wandered up a rocky path that sparkled in a misty pink-and-green jungle of rhododendron trees blossoming across the Himalayan mountains beneath a crystal-blue backdrop, I thought of the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy meanders through the talking grove of trees; I thought of my father, and how he would have loved to trek in Nepal too, but how he was dead so he couldn’t; I thought of my bearded live-in boyfriend of five years who said “marriage is just a piece of paper”; I thought of my new friends from Australia and how they got engaged that morning after our headlamp-lit hike to glimpse a sunrise-kissed Poon Hill (elevation: 3,210 meters). Like clouds in my overcast brain, these thoughts conglomerated during a flat–for Nepal–stretch of trail when my run-down body would let me breathe in the scenery rather than exhale “fuck this,” and I resolved: we’re breaking up when I get home.

After reading Jane Eyre too many times, I reflect on my Nepal/India chapter as a plot twist similar to chapter 27, in which Jane leaves Rochester: ”I care for myself,” Jane says. I did just that. Then I met my husband, and we got married–in Rochester (Michigan).

Invoking Harold Bloom’s book title The Anatomy of Influence: Literature as a Way of Life as a mantra, literature as my way of life gave birth to this blog. Human Abstracts houses essays, like this one, which hold a literary lens to the human experience–synthesizing insights from the Arts with current and personal events, and magnifying meaning to reveal life’s symbolism.