Riot’s Classic Literature Reviews: Jane Eyre
Reading through these culturally adored titles has been an interesting experience to say the least. So far, Jane Eyre is the first book I’ve heard almost nothing about and while I’m usually beset with a number of cultural references, I struggle to think of any related to this work. Much like her sister, Charlotte Bronte’s novel danced heavily between bouts of fast-paced, attention-consuming prose and methodical, hyper attentive details that turned what I thought was going to be a two day read into five. I typically enjoy evaluating the themes and storytelling over providing plot synopsis, but you can find a good one here or here if you want a quick run through. Jane Eyre was written and published in 1847 under the pseudonym of Curer Bell, because Charlotte didn’t want her work to be judged differently for being a woman, something that runs as a major theme throughout, which I will cover later. With zero expectations or foreknowledge of the story, Jane Eyre provided an interesting, first-person look into real life struggles with survival, religion, love, and societal expectations that can inevitably persuade or even dictate the course of our lives.
Love: Simple enough right? Or is it needlessly, unabashedly complex? Jane Eyre tackles a few of the many different forms of love throughout. I’ve read (and I’m sure most of you have as well) that English as a language is mocked for its inability to linguistically/properly express the depths of meaning centered around “love.” Bronte takes on the task of walking through its different forms by exploring the subject in the many interpersonal relationships that Jane encounters. The entire book is essentially a long quest for a loving relationship, of which most are eventually torn from her by circumstance and at no real fault of her own. First, as a ten-year old girl, she is forced to come to terms with a family dynamic that has no love for her. Orphaned and then taken in by relatives who are only linked to her by marriage and a begrudged promise to do so, Jane is treated with disdain not only by her cousins, but also a morally bankrupt aunt who spares no words or moments to inform her of the “burden” she brings to the family. Even as a ten-year old girl, she is able to acknowledge that the familial form of love that she needed at the time wouldn’t be met by any means, forcing her to emotionally and verbally sever ties with the people that were meant to protect and raise her. Second, Jane’s first encounter with a loving friendship is stolen from her by disease, when her childhood friend Helen dies in a devastating winter at her boarding school. Third, her first romantic love and the future she was preparing for herself was ripped apart by scandal and a dedication to keeping marriage a sacrament. What we learn from Jane’s experience is that love, in all its forms, is something that is difficult to find and takes work to maintain. Jane Eyre is certainly no fairytale, no matter how well things inevitably end for her.
Gothic Overtones vs. Poetic Beauty: Much like her sister Emily’s work in Wuthering Heights (which I reviewed here) there was definitely a bit of infatuation with the darker side of life and fantasy that popped up through Jane Eyre. In what became, in my opinion, the more interesting/page-turning segments of the story, Bronte injected a number of scenes that hinged on the supernatural and shocked the reader out of long, poetic scenery prose that honestly drew out for too long at times. (I have not been secretive in previous reviews that I dislike poetry and Bronte’s scenery descriptions can be thought of as nothing less that pure poetic lines). As a child, Jane is traumatized beyond reason when she is locked inside what she believed to be a haunted room. Considering her uncle died in that room, it’s not a stretch of the imagination that a ten-year old girl would come to that conclusion. While at the boarding school, she has to not only watch her best friend die, but also a great number of other students. Finally, during her time at Thornfield manor, she is at multiple points forced to deal with a supernatural being (avoiding a spoiler here) that attempts to wreak havoc on the estate. The stark contrast of her writing style versus the direct and linear storytelling of darker emotions and events is something that made the pace of the novel like a roller coaster of emotion/interest. Bronte, as a true storyteller, is able to bring the reader back into the fold seemingly just at the moment one might want to quit it.
The varying approaches to religion: Religion, as a theme, is pervasive throughout this book and it is evaluated through a balanced lens that is likely not something one would see often today. Jane herself provides that balance, observing how the same religion is lived out differently by the people around her. In her childhood friend Helen and her school’s superintendent Miss Temple, Jane finds a faith expressed through kindness and contentment. Helen, around 13 years old and at death’s door, shows more poise and depth of knowledge than the adults around her, accepting her fate with the peace and meekness that her faith grants her. Miss Temple bears the burden as the protector of innocence, providing love and care to a group of girls who have neither and are subjected to a man who has wickedly bent a noble cause. In Mr. Brocklehurst, the man who runs Lowood (the school), Bronte explores some of the hypocrisy that can be found amongst those who believe themselves to be better/superior than others. At the horrible detriment to the students, Brocklehurst enriches himself and his family while wearing a mask of righteousness and grandstanding on an adherence to biblical law. His cruelty leads to the death of children and exposes his hypocrisy outright. A bit later in life, when it comes down to her own choice to adhere to biblical (and social) law/standards, Jane proves herself strong enough to do the right thing, even at the expense of her own heart and desires. Finally, living at the residence of a priest named St. John, Jane sees the mark of a man so committed to his faith and philanthropy that he is bound to sacrifice everything to its goal. His life and relationships come secondary to his commitment to the mission, something that Jane, who is emotionally torn by the desire to serve others, inevitably cannot pledge herself wholeheartedly to. By the end of the story, Jane has come to terms with her own deep-rooted religious beliefs and finds peace in them. Her faith’s values, obviously abused by others during the course of the novel, are proven beneficial by showing her commitment to them even through the many hardships of her young life.
Gender and Feminism: Jane Eyre is said to be one of the first feminist novels. Not being or claiming to be any sort of feminist scholar, it is a little hard to argue this point for or against. On one hand, Jane is portrayed throughout as a strong-willed and independent woman. Even as a child, she has enough bravery to verbally berate her abusive aunt. Throughout her story she works hard at every task she is put to and often succeeds accordingly. She stands on the principles of her faith and commitment to her own desires which often brings her into direct opposition with misogyny and patriarchal values. (Now for the but). But, she also succumbs to many of the tropes of romance stories that seem to be decidedly non-feminist. She falls deeply in love with a man who is incredibly hardened and mean spirited toward her. The circumstances that lead to her inevitable independence are in-fact not of her own making but come by way of charity and happenstance. (She gets reeeeeeaally lucky). Her happiness is still obtained within the confines of the patriarchal society that other reviewers might say she has overcome or raged against. Jane’s commitment to herself appears to be the greatest evidence of any feminist agenda. But it is worth asking if the circumstance of the novel’s own publication is supportive of this idea. While the reasoning is easily understood, Jane Eyre was still published under a male pseudonym. It’s hard to say how much impact is made from manipulation, whether or not the intent was pure. Would the novel be as powerful/prevalent if Bronte hadn’t?
Wrap Up: The copy of Jane Eyre I purchased was 276 pages, single-spaced and small font. While I underestimated how long it would take me to finish it, I think for the average reader it would be worth committing a week to a week and a half to. The poetic prose was an Achilles heel for me, so those of you that enjoy that kind of literature will likely have a better go of it. My copy also had no index or sub-notes and there is quite a bit of actual French language in the book, which caused more pauses than I would have liked to check the translations. So maybe look for a copy that advertises these things. Also, as I’ve stated in previous reviews, I do not do well with phonetic dialogue. To this day I don’t understand why authors choose to do it. I feel like a quick descriptor should be enough to establish a character’s speech habits in the minds of the reader. Luckily there wasn’t nearly as much of this as her sister Emily chose to put in. Also, there are a number of references directly to the reader. It’s something minor to be sure, but it never failed to take me directly out of the story. Charlotte also engaged in a literary practice that was common at the time, omitting names of real-life locations in some spots but then admitting them in others. Completely fictional locations are stated outright, but the intermittent omissions were a bit strange. As stated earlier, the book is a bit of a roller coaster. Charlotte Bronte has a true gift for scenic description, but often spends far too much time on it. The reader is given the full portrayal and every little hint of emotion or sensory experience that goes along with it. Honestly, I don’t actually hate this, but after a ten hour shift, the last thing I want to do is read about lilacs swaying in the gentle breeze and how they invoked joyous accounts of childhood adventures. (This isn’t a direct quote by any means, I’m not as good as Charlotte). What it boils down to is that Jane Eyre is a delightfully human story. There exists no infallibility to any character, even the protagonist. It felt like a story about real people and the real relationships that drove their development. One thing I was torn on was the gothic elements of the story. They provided the most page-turning excitement in the book, but essentially drew away from the realism of the narrative. It might be that the religious overtones required the dichotomy of darkness/evil and if that is the case, the book may be more brilliant than my rating may give it credit for. But I think that when the big reveal happens, it steals away this idea because a book rooted in realism (however flowery the wording) doesn’t really leave room for the devil to be up to his evil ways.
Riot’s Rating: 6.8/10: I would definitely give a strong recommendation to read for most people. I think the most charming thing about the book was its commitment to what resembled a real-life story. As our world seemingly descends further and further into chaos, I’ve had an increased admiration of hearing/knowing the story of the everyday man or woman. Sometimes the most grounding thing in life is simply knowing you’re not alone in the struggle.
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