I knew early on in my life that there was only one man for me: Edward Fairfax Rochester. Enigmatic, brooding, intense, tall, dark and handsome. Sounds great, hey? Reads stupendously on paper. Looks great on our screens. I’ve fallen for any number of incarnations of Jane Eyre’s Mr Rochester over the years, from Timothy Dalton to Toby Stephens and most recently Michael Fassbender. It seems the character is so compelling that no actor can fail; he’s too perfect. It’s indisputable: from the safety of my imagination, I adore and worship Mr Rochester.
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