Penguin Popular Classics, £4.99, ISBN 978-0-14-062325-3
Bildungsroman, 1994 (Reissue)
Charlotte Brontë, clearly not content with the thrilling life of a Victorian-era governess, decided to spice things up by penning Jane Eyre under the totally-not-suspicious pseudonym Currer Bell. Published in 1847, this novel proved that sometimes, the best way to become a literary sensation is to pretend you’re not a woman. Take note, aspiring 19th-century female authors!
While most people remember Jane Eyre as that book where Jane has a tumultuous relationship with Mr. Rochester (spoiler alert: it’s complicated), it’s actually a decade-long saga of Jane’s life. That’s right, it’s ten years of drama, with an extra ten years of marriage squeezed into the final chapter like an afterthought. Because who needs details about marital bliss when you’ve got childhood trauma to explore?
Move over, Oliver Twist and other perpetual victims of Victorian literature – Jane Eyre’s got you beat. This girl collects hardships like they’re going out of style:
- Gateshead Hall, where Jane learns that being an orphan means everyone hates you. Fun!
- Lowood Institution, because nothing says “character building” like typhus outbreaks and starvation.
- Thornfield Hall, where Jane falls for her employer (classic) who’s hiding his secret wife in the attic (less classic, more alarming).
- Moor House, where Jane discovers long-lost cousins and narrowly escapes a loveless marriage. Just another Tuesday for our Jane.
From page one, Charlotte Brontë’s writing grabs you by the collar and yells, “Listen up, because things are about to get DRAMATIC!” Yes, it’s melodramatic. Yes, it’s over-the-top. And yes, you’ll love every minute of it. Ms Brontë doesn’t just break the fourth wall; she smashes it to bits and uses the rubble to build a direct bridge to your emotions.
Poor Jane seems to attract calamity and bullies like a Victorian-era Taylor Swift. But before you roll your eyes, remember: she’s a woman in 19th century England. Her options are limited to “marry rich” or “die poor.” Throughout it all, Jane maintains her sanity and grows stronger, probably because she’s too busy dodging disasters to have a proper mental breakdown.
“I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.”
Ah, then there is Edward Fairfax Rochester, the man who launched a thousand questionable romantic fantasies. Let’s be clear: this guy is trying to trick Jane into being his mistress while spouting poetic nonsense. He’s basically a married man sliding into the DMs of a hot young thing. Yet, women still swoon over him. Charlotte Brontë, you diabolical genius! Not that I’m judging – I have a thing for her sister’s Heathcliff, who makes Rochester look like a boy scout.
“I would always rather be happy than dignified.”
Notably, Jane Eyre is arguably one of the earliest feminist romance stories. Jane knows her worth and won’t compromise it, not even for Rochester’s brooding good looks. Modern romance heroines could learn a thing or two from her stubborn self-respect.
“Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs.”
If there’s one eyebrow-raising aspect of the novel, it’s how everyone who’s ever wronged Jane eventually meets a bad end. Jane never directly causes these downfalls—oh no, she’s far too pure for that. Instead, there seems to be some cosmic karma pinwheel spinning wildly, knocking off Jane’s enemies like a Victorian game of whack-a-mole.
“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you–and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.”
In the end, Rochester is maimed, humbled, and broken, fervently telling our heroine that he is “bound” to her… all the better for Jane “magnanimously” takes him back. How convenient that he’s now in no position to run away! Also, notice how all of Jane’s romantic rivals are portrayed negatively, from petty to straight-up bonkers? It’s almost as if Ms Brontë wanted Jane to shine as the most perfect woman ever. Self-insert fan fiction, anyone?
Despite its flaws, or perhaps because of them, Jane Eyre remains an irresistible read. It’s a soap opera in novel form, featuring a heroine who stays sane in a world gone mad and emerges triumphant, with the hottest guy begging for her love, no less. Whether you’re a 19th-century reader or a modern-day literature enthusiast, there’s something undeniably captivating about Jane’s journey. So go ahead, indulge in this classic tale of love, madness, and improbable coincidences. Your secret is safe with us!
