I first read Jane Eyre when I was 13 or 14 years old. I was not assigned to read it for school. I picked it up on my own and thought it would be something I would like. At that age and ability level, Jane Eyre proved exceedingly difficult. Without extensive study and without any substantial life experience, I just couldn't wrap my head around Ms. Bronte's writing.
In fact, when I reflected on this book several years later, there were just two things I could distinctly remember. First, "The Madwoman in the Attic," thanks to several lectures concerning feminist criticism during undergrad, and the line "Reader, I married him."
Having this background information and the foggy remembrances of the book, I thought I had Jane Eyre covered.
Nonetheless, a couple months ago, I decided to give Jane Eyre a second chance. I had seen the most recent movie adaptation of Jane Eyre was available on Netflix. I like Michael Fassbender and Jamie Bell, so I wanted to watch it but decided I should re-read the book first. This was my lackluster motivation for reading this book.
But reader, I read it. And I can hardly put into words the impact this book has had on me. Nonetheless, I will try.
From the moment I began reading about Jane's life, I was interested. Unlike my 13-year-old self, I felt empathy for Jane. I couldn't imagine how hard it must have been to be unloved as a little girl, to see your friends and classmates die around you, to be regularly humiliated and belittled.
And I could relate to her as she grew into a young woman. She acknowledged that she was seen as unattractive and plain. Being intelligent seemed to be her "saving grace" as far as usefulness in her time, but just barely. After all, being poor, governess was probably the best station she could hope for. I think even the most beautiful, smartest woman can relate to these sentiments. We all feel how much we fall short, even when the world is telling us we're beautiful and smart. Can you imagine being a woman in a world where you are outright told you are unattractive on a regular basis?
As a totally self-dependent orphan, Jane learns at an early age that she has two choices in life: to embody the worthlessness eschewed upon her or to fight for her self-worth. It is Jane's fight for the latter that makes this a truly remarkable story, especially for Charlotte Bronte's peers but even so for women today.
Throughout the stages of Jane's life, I felt deeply involved as a reader. As she makes her way from the school to Thornfield, I was truly excited for her. Jane had never left the confines of Lowood and so felt inclined to branch out. Again, this is her choice to find self-worth, despite her acceptance of her lowly position in society.
I had had no communication by letter or message with the outer world: school-rules, school-duties, school-habits and notions, and voices, and faces, and phrases, and costumes, and preferences and antipathies, such was what I knew of existence. And now I felt that is was not enough: I tired of the routine of eight years in one afternoon. I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seem[ed] scattered on the wind then faintly blowing. I abandoned it and framed a humbler supplication; for change, stimulus: that petition, too, seemed swept off into a vague space; "Then," I cried, half desperate, "Grant me at least a new servitude!"
And her efforts, divinely guided (as I believe Charlotte intended), led her to Thornfield, where her opportunity for servitude was being a governess. And at Thornfield, she finds Edward Fairfax Rochester. She could have easily encountered a new form of servitude in her love for Rochester, but Jane did not. While being completely infatuated with Rochester, Jane held close something that many women then and even today abandon when a man so much as looks her way: her self.
And this is not easy for Jane, for her love for Rochester runs deep, even while he appeared to be uninterested in her:
"He is not to them what he is to me," I thought: "he is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine--I am sure he is,--I feel akin to him,--I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us wildly, I have something in my my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him...Every good, true, vigorous feeling I have, gathers impulsively round him. I know I must conceal my sentiments: I must smother hope: I must remember that he cannot care much for me...I must then repeat continually that we are for ever sundered:--and yet, while I breathe and think I must love him."
Jane's perpetual fight with reason shows her desire not simply to guard herself but to save herself from foolishness. But fight as she will, her love for Rochester grows and cannot be snuffed out. Indeed her servitude goes beyond being Adele's governess -- she proves her service to Rochester before he professes his love to her in saving his life from the fire and nursing Mason. She even says to Rochester after he "got a blow" from seeing Mason, "I'd give my life to serve you."
And even in her devotion, Jane does not lose her sense of self. In knowing and loving Rochester, Jane's personality and individuality becomes more apparent.
Jane's passion and cleverness surfaces around Rochester. She does not hesitate to speak with him bluntly and truthfully. There is no part of herself she wishes to hide from him. As Rochester desires her more and more, Jane does not hesitate to show him who she is. She has somehow brought together this sense of individuality with devotion and service. Jane is wholly dedicated to Rochester yet still wholly dedicated to herself and her purpose.
Even after Jane and Rochester profess their love and plan to marry, she changes nothing about herself to please him -- she refuses to dote on new dresses when he buys them for her, she still wants to teach Adele even when he suggests sending her to school, and most importantly, she refuses to be his mistress.
I was experiencing an ordeal: a hand of fiery iron grasped my vitals. Terrible moment: full of struggle, blackness, burning! Not a human being that ever lived could wish to be loved better than I was loved; and him who thus loved me I absolutely worshipped: and I must renounce love and idol. One drear word comprised my intolerable duty--"Depart!"
"Jane, you understand what I want of you? Just this promise--'I will be yours, Mr. Rochester.'"
"Mr. Rochester, I will not be yours."
..."Oh, Jane this is bitter! This--this is wicked. It would not be wicked to love me."
"It would be to obey you."
This heart wrenching scene was the pinnacle of Jane's fight for self-worth. She would not be a mistress living in shame and obscurity, even if it was with whom she "worshipped." Jane would be nothing less than a wife, though from a societal standpoint she becomes less than even a governess because of her decision.
And then enter St. John Rivers, who presents yet another test to Jane's true character and self-worth. His determination to marry her and his refusal to listen to her proves that he viewed Jane not as a fitted to him but "fitted to [his] purpose." Marriage to St. John would have indeed given her purpose and direction in life, and as a missionary's wife, she would doubtless have touched several lives. But Jane knew herself and she knew God had another purpose for her, which she bravely and blindly follows.
When Jane and Rochester find each other once again, Jane comes to him a new woman. A woman with more life experience, with real perspective and with grace. More importantly, Jane comes to Rochester with something she truly hasn't had before: independence.
"It is you--is it, Jane? You are come back to me then?"
"I am."
"And you do not lie dead in some ditch, under some stream? And you are not a pining outcast amongst strangers?"
"No sir, I am an independent woman now."
...But as you are rich, Jane, you have now, no doubt, friends who will look after you, and not suffer you to devote yourself to a blind lamenter like me?"
"I told you I am independent, sir, as well as rich: I am my own mistress."
Of course Jane and Rochester refer to Jane's independence as being wealthy, but there is a deeper meaning to her freedom. Having survived so many ordeals, Jane is free to be herself, despite any circumstance life may throw at her. The line "Reader, I married him," now holds so much more meaning to me. By marrying Rochester, she made a choice for a life less conventional but consequently more meaningful. By the end of the novel, Jane has discovered her real strength, which lies in bucking convention and relying on God and her own good sense, a real feat for women in her time and even now.
Upon finishing the last page of this book, I was truly sad to let it go. I have dodged my bucket list of books to read because I don't want to leave the world of Jane Eyre. And it's not just the sweeping, heartfelt romance (though I really love it) that makes this novel stay with me -- Jane's journey inspires me.
Reading about Jane overcoming the obstacles in front of her makes me realize that life is too short to not live with purpose. Whatever her goal -- be it becoming a governess, making her own way after leaving Rochester, not settling for a life with St. John -- Jane pursues it tenaciously, assiduously, passionately. I only hope that I may pursue life with the sense Jane did and with a heart attuned to God and His purpose -- both of which transcend convention and make the Jane Eyres of the world our heroines.
As a 30-something woman who has just re-read Jane Eyre, I have to say I feel invigorated. No goal in front of me is as impossible as it may seem. I, too, am my own mistress, and I have the capability to keep moving forward, not giving up on the life God has intended for me.
