Jane Eyre

DNF. We just got the Bertha reveal, and there's still SEVEN HOURS of book left? I'm done.

This doesn't even have a plot - it's a stultifying series of events that occasionally runs across a brief plot, then moves on to resume a mere catalog of experiences by the protagonist, most of them ridiculously dolorous, and told in the most verbose and moralizing way possible. How did I manage to read this in junior high?

Thandie Newton does a lovely job, but cannot save this.

(For the record, I understand the important influence of this book in western literature - hence the second star. It can be revolutionary and influential without actually being, you know, good.)