Charlotte Bronte and Jane Eyre

Before I truly felt in love with the world of period dramas and historical novels, I was introduced to Jane Eyre by my favorite English teacher, one of the kindest and most talented people I have ever met. I know for sure that I enjoy Charlotte Bronte’s writing quite a lot, for since my first encounter with her poor and obscure governess, I have come back to her novels many times and watched a number of Jane Eyre‘s adaptations, including three most recent BBC miniseries and four movie adaptations. Yet, there are still a few elements of the novel that really make me feel unsatisfied and unsure about their significance. In this post, I would like to explain why I love Jane Eyre, but also what I find unsettling.

One of the most prominent elements of any novel written by a Bronte, with the exception of those by Anne Bronte, is the Gothic vibe. In Jane Eyre, Charlotte set up a mysterious and daunting atmosphere with her suspenseful description of Thornfield Hall, the devilish laughter of a woman at nightfall, the strange fire that almost killed Mr. Rochester in his sleep and Bertha Mason’s half-man, half beast mental state. Though I’m not a big fan of the Gothic genre, I deeply appreciate Charlotte’s masterful use of these elements. More than just to pull readers into the enigmatic world of the characters and keep us on the edge of our seat, Charlotte incorporated these details into her work to advance the plot and further elaborate on the themes of the novel, including internal and external beauty, class and social restraint. Bertha, the living ghost of Thornfield and center of the place’s darkest secrets, was once a great beauty who charmed the young Edward Rochester. Shortly after their wedding, she descended into madness and was eventually locked up in the attic by her husband. Wild and savage, she is Jane’s opposite. Bertha is the demented woman with a lustful shell, which she ultimately loses, while Jane, the plain and little governess, is a virtuous lady with a strict moral code.

I feel like I have a special connection with Jane, for though we are as different as two people can be in terms of living circumstance and life experience, I can see fragments of myself in her. I would never dare to say that I feel her pain, knowing that I probably would never fully understand the level of suffering she has gone through. Nevertheless, thanks to the book’s first person point of view, I can see her personality much clearer and pick out the characteristics that resonate with me the most. During her time at Lowood, Jane yearned for a more exciting life. Tired of the institution’s secluded location, she wishes to see more of the world outside the school walls. I can speak for myself and plenty of young people everywhere that many of us would love to step out of our comfort zone, venture to distant lands and gain new experiences. When Jane first realizes her attachment to Mr. Rochester, her first instinct is to conceal and suppress her romantic feelings for him as much as possible. In a society that biased against people of little fortune, especially women, Jane’s love for her master wouldn’t end well, if she chose to let her feelings overpower her and control her decisions. Though it is later revealed that the attraction is mutual, her earlier actions are evidence of her prudence and pragmatic way of thinking, the qualities that I’m working hard to improve on.

Jane has a very strong character development, beginning with her abused childhood in her cold-blooded aunt’s home and ending with her loving married life in Thornfield Hall. She started out as a broken child with no one on whom she could rely, and matured into an independent women whom everyone turned to in their times of need. However, I can’t help but feeling that other characters don’t have a fulfilling character arc like Jane.

Among them, my main concern is about Mr. Rochester, someone the novel goes slightly too far to romanticize. Admittedly, a compelling character doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, flawed characters tend to be more relatable and realistic. Mr. Rochester also has many estimable qualities that can hardly be found in a Victorian man of his status. He doesn’t look down on people whose social positions are below him. He considers Jane, a woman half his age with questionable linage, his equal. He sees others for who they are, not who they present themselves to be, and treasures those with a superior mind and a benevolent heart. Sadly, all of these good points can’t make up for his faults, most which he is well aware of, but refuse to change nevertheless. He is moody, hot-tempered, controlling and unpredictable. His mocking tone of voice and bitter choice of words reflect his inability to cope with his family issues and spitefulness towards his own life. Seeing how utterly cruel the world has been to him, I pity him more than sympathize with him, for he has never actively done anything to improve his situation. He almost wastes his immense potential to do others good with his talent, intelligent and wealth, if wasn’t thanks to Jane, his savior. By the end of the novel, he still hasn’t change much. You may think that I’m being a bit too critical of Mr. Rochester, but I honestly think that he should not be painted as a desirable love interest. A man like him is equally capable of loving and destroying others.

Another problem I have with the novel is a series of convenient plot points that shows up at the end of the novel to resolve everything. Jane’s uncle on her father side abruptly dies and leaves her 20,000 pounds, making her a rich heiress. When she runs away from Thornfield and receives help from the Rivers siblings, these three kind-hearted people handily turn out to be her long lost cousins. After rejecting St. John Rivers, she suddenly hears Mr. Rochester calling her name from miles away and immediately goes back to him. Arriving at Millcote and then Thornfield, Jane is inform of her former master’s circumstance. He has lost nearly everything in a fire, but together, they can start over again. Throughout the story, Jane has always been an active character, who, regardless of her situation, is always in control of her life; hence, I feel slightly disappointed that she didn’t play a bigger part in regaining her happiness. At this point, there’s something I must confess. From a more objective perspective, I think that as the novel reaches its end, it starts forcing luck to turn in Jane’s favor. Even so, from an emotional standpoint, I couldn’t help but feeling grateful and happy for her. After seeing everything she has experienced, I want her to have all the happiness in the world, with the loving family and friends she deserve.

Now, I can’t end this post without mentioning how beautiful the writing in Jane Eyre is. The language used in the novel is quite modern and isn’t very far from the one we are using in our times. Charlotte wrote dialogues wonderfully, with each character’s lines perfectly reflecting his or her personalities and emotions at the moment of speaking. Conversation in the novel are depicted so genuinely that we can almost hear the color in every character’s voice and feel the atmosphere between the participants of the talk. It’s very easy to quote Jane Eyre, for the words in it are so iconic and memorable. My personal favorite is this: “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” This short sentence, which Jane says to Mr. Rochester and probably to herself as well, flawlessly captures the core of her personality, independence.

Jane Eyre has had almost as many adaptations as Pride and Prejudice. In the past fifty years, BBC alone has produced at least one new Jane Eyre miniseries every twenty years. Different adaptations vary greatly in terms of character representation and story telling style. I highly recommend the two BBC miniseries aired in 1983 and 2006, the former of which is both more faithful to the book and my preferred version.

I have a lot of mixed feelings toward Jane Eyre, mainly because I’m a critic of the over-romanticized depiction of flaming and burning passion, like that between Jane and Mr. Rochester. With that said, I’m unabashed about my devotion to Jane, a groundbreaking Victorian literary heroine, who knows how to stand up for herself against her oppressors since the age of ten and defy social expectations.

My next post is going to be about Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte’s one and only novel. Below is a stage production of Wuthering Heights. Can you guess which two characters are depicted in the picture?