A Pox on the Patriarchy
The version of Mr Thornton that never fails to make me yearn for my own personal piece of the patriarchy, is the Mr Thornton so ably portrayed by Richard Armitage.
Oh readers! His piercing green eyes, his deep, yet restrained voice, his patriarchal ways with his fists, his bottled-up repression (yes that tautology was deliberate). Frankly, it’s enough to make a feminist shudder with pleasure at her weak little feminine knees.
As he strides around Melton, his brooding brow matching his sombre clothes – and his stride majestically reminding us of his raw power – I find myself going all lady, and longing to be swept up in his powerful arms.
And when he smiles, oh! readers, I burn, I pine, I perish!
And of course, (of course) he is deep as well as dangerously attractive – he sees our Margaret’s passion – and recognises her as more than his equal – nay, his superior. Good god, will someone please pass me the smelling salts!