As a fan of all things Brontë (and I mean by ALL the Brontës), I was very excited, when looking for my next read, to come across the recently published The Wife Upstairs, which was described as a modern day retelling of Jane Eyre, set in Birmingham, Alabama. I have never hit “Buy” so fast in the Kindle Store. I thought that the gothic elements of Jane Eyre would lend themselves so well to a modern day thriller.

And, they might, but this isn’t that book. Sure, this is a thriller. There is murder and mystery and intrigue a-plenty. And yes, many names and some plot lines from Jane Eyre are used in The Wife Upstairs, but it should not be described as a re-telling.

The Jane of The Wife Upstairs is a foster child who aged out of the system, and has suffered from the loneliness and trauma of an insecure childhood, like the original Jane, but the resemblance stops there. This new Jane steals. She deliberately lies. She manipulates. She is eager to climb the social ladder and take advantage of all of the material spoils of the well-to-do suburban society where she works as a dog-walker (the modern day equivalent of a governess, natch), at whatever cost. The integrity, the bluntness and steadfastness of character that is really the hallmark of Jane Eyre herself is missing here completely.

I found some of the homages to Jane Eyre clever (the subdivision in which the book takes place is called “Thornfield Estates,” for example), but shuddered every time the new Mr. Rochester was referred to as “Eddie,” and didn’t find the concept of his ward, Adele, being portrayed in this book as a DOG that needs walking to be anything but cringeworthy.

In her acknowledgements, Rachel Hawkins thanks readers who, like her, believed the original Jane “deserved better” than Mr. Rochester, implying that in her novel, she’s given that to her. I completely disagree. Read this book if you like easily digestible thrillers, but don’t read it because you are hoping for a clever interpretation of Charlotte Brontë’s masterpiece.