I love the novel. It was my very first classic novel, and Mr. Rochester was my first love. Don't get me wrong, I know he's a jerk. A big jerk. As is Heathcliff, but my affection does not extend to him. I have kind feelings towards Darcy, Wentworth, and Knightly...but my heart belongs to Rochester. Colonel Brandon, Edward Ferrars, and Edmund Bertram are nice guys, but too much milquetoast for me. Nope. Rochester ruined me. And the result is that I love jerks to this day.
It's a problem, and it's Charlotte Bronte's fault.