Lillian (who co-hosts another podcast about Jane Eyre called Eyrebuds with her friend Piper) had me on her new show talking about my love of Jane Eyre. The premise of the podcast is to talk to people who are really enthusiastic about a variety of things, and today’s ep focuses on my love of Jane Eyre. It was a blast to talk to Lillian about my favorite novel. Please check it out and enjoy!
In Chapter 14 of Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë references the pseudo-science of Phrenology when Mr. Rochester further questions Jane about his appearance:
“Criticise me: does my forehead not please you?”
He lifted up the sable waves of hair which lay horizontally over his brow, and showed a solid enough mass of intellectual organs, but an abrupt deficiency where the suave sign of benevolence should have risen.
By Jane calling attention to a “deficiency” where the sign of benevolence should have been, she is thinking in terms of phrenology where studying the size and shape of your head is supposed to reveal your character and personality since certain areas of the brain and skull were assigned different characteristics.
Charlotte was interested in the ideas of Phrenology, although it’s not clear how much of it she full-heartedly believed. In 1851 her publisher, George Smith, took her to a well known phrenologist in London to have her head analyzed. She did so anonymously though, and the phrenologist - Dr. T. P. Browne - only knew her as a Miss. Fraser.
In George Smith’s memoir he included the full analysis by Dr. Browne which is very extensive, but full of generalizations that was probably engineered to make any woman feel flattered. I’ll include the text below, but before that, I’ll link up the latest episode of our podcast Jane Eyre Files! Enjoy our discussion of Chapter 14.
Here is the full text of Charlotte's phrenological assessment:
Mike and I discuss the fact that we get an extensive physical description of Jane in this chapter, and I’d like to follow that train of thought, with this excerpt from one of Charlotte Brontë’s letters where she answers the question of if she would illustrate an edition of her novel. She said in response to her publisher William S. Williams, in a letter dated March 11, 1848:
“As to your second suggestion, it is, one can see at a glance, a very judicious and happy one; but I cannot adopt it, because I have not the skill you attribute to me. It is not enough to have the artist's eye; one must also have the artist's hand to turn the first gift to practical account. I have, in my day, wasted a certain quantity of Bristol board and drawing-paper, crayons and cakes of colour, but when I examine the contents of my portfolio no, it seems as if during the years it has been lying closed, some fairy had changed what I once thought sterling coin into dry leaves, and I feel much inclined to consign the whole collection of drawings to the fire; I see they have no value. If then "Jane Eyre" is ever to be illustrated it must be by some other hand than that of it's author. But I hope no one will be at the trouble to make portraits of my characters: Bulwer- and Byron- heroes and heroines are very well - they are all of them handsome-; but my personages are mostly unattractive in look and therefore ill-adapted to figure in ideal portraits -- At the best, I have always thought such representations futile.”
I would have LOVED to have seen Charlotte’s own portraits of the characters - it would really satisfy my curiosity of what they should look like.
And I also mention this police sketch of Jane Eyre from the blog The Composites which is drawn from the descriptions of Jane throughout the book. What do you think of this rendition of Jane?
As always, we much appreciate your listening to the podcast! Check out the latest episode here:
We discuss Chapter 10 in the latest episode of Jane Eyre Files, and we get to see Jane making things happen for herself, by advertising for a position as governess. Of course things only get more interesting from there.
Jane makes a point of mentioning the salary offered for the new position - £30 per annum, or per year. A great increase since she only gets £15 per annum at Lowood. Now both jobs provide room and board, so there really isn’t much living expenses Jane has to worry about - but I was curious to put that salary into perspective for the time.
According to Old Bailey Online, “wages for eighteenth-century women could range from the £2 or so mentioned above to between £6 and £8 for a housemaid, and up to £15 per annum for a skilled housekeeper.” Of course women earned less than men, as a “footman could expect £8 per year, and a coachman anywhere between £12 and £26.
And according to the Victorian Web a woman’s dress in 1888 cost £35/8s/4d. (s=shilling, d=pence) More than a year’s salary for one dress! Although that cost is for a fancier dress or the average salary went up by 1888.
The numbers seem very small in comparison to what we work with today, but apparently the £20,000 she will get later equals about £2.24 million today. I would definitely be happy with that much of a windfall!
Check out our latest episode of the podcast on your favorite podcasting platform:
Chapter 9 is a powerful chapter of Jane Eyre, where Charlotte transitions from bright, encouraging scenes of spring coming to Lowood to the realities of an epidemic of typhus and the worsening condition of Helen’s tuberculosis taking away from the beauty surrounding Lowood.
I’ve been listening to the Paul Gordon/John Caird musical version of Jane Eyre recently, and since this chapter really focuses on Helen’s last days and introduces the profound effect her life will have on Jane going forward, I’ve been particularly saddened by the song that Helen sings in the musical. Her big number is called “Forgiveness” and just perfectly encapsulates the level of piety and forbearance that makes up her character. Yet there is a final verse at the end of the song that becomes a bit of a recurring theme in the musical and again illustrates Helen’s influence on Jane.
You must never lose faith You must never lose heart God will restore your trust And I know you're afraid I'm as scared as you are But willing to be brave Brave enough for love
The final song on the show is called Brave Enough for Love, and I absolutely adore recurring themes in a musical, and again I just felt particularly touched by this song and Helen’s message to Jane right now. It’s something that I’m sure I will continue to mention in subsequent episodes of the podcast, but I do love how Jane continues to remember Helen in the story. Even to how she mentions at the end of Chapter 9 that a gravestone has been placed on her grave 15 years later - presumably by Jane herself, in remembrance of her friend.
Have a listen to our discussion of Chapter 9 of Jane Eyre here:
In our latest episode of the podcast Mike and I discuss Jane and Helen’s life views and we find that one of us is more Team Helen, while the other is Team Jane! I won’t reveal who is who here, you’ll just have to listen to the podcast episode!
But I did want to share more about Maria Brontë, Charlotte’s eldest sister and the inspiration for Helen Burns. The Brontë Parsonage blog has a wonderful write-up about Maria you can read here: https://www.bronte.org.uk/the-brontes-and-haworth/family-and-friends/maria-bronte
Maria was two years older than Charlotte, and Charlotte was witness to the unhygienic and harsh regime at the Clergy Daughters’ School at Cowan Bridge that led to Maria (and the second oldest daughter Elizabeth) to catch tuberculosis and die a few months later.
Such a terrible tragedy for Charlotte to experience at the age of 8, and clearly the loss of her sister impacted her greatly in the beautiful way she writes about Helen and Helen’s influence on Jane.
One more point I would like to mention is that I recently read in a wonderful book called “Celebrating Charlotte Brontë” by Christine Alexander and Sara L. Pearson (a book that examines Jane Eyre chapter by chapter with context from Charlotte Brontë’s life) that Helen is presenting the idea of “universal salvation” when she says that “I hold another creed; which no one ever taught me, and which I seldom mention; but in which I delight, and to which I cling; for it extends hope to all: it makes Eternity a rest - a might home, not a terror and an abyss.”
Universal salvation is a belief that says everyone will be saved by God in the end. It is a belief that God will ultimately be merciful to all. And it is something that Charlotte and her sisters subscribed to, which I can readily understand - it is much more comforting to believe more in God’s compassion and love than in the fires and damnation side.
And a quick edit to add a link to this post where I compile instances where Charlotte Brontë talked about characters and aspects of Jane Eyre in her letters.
On that note, please enjoy this week’s episode of the Jane Eyre Files Podcast! :)
My husband and I talk about Chapter 5 in the latest episode of the Jane Eyre Files podcast, and I mention the way Jane travels to the next stage of her life in the National Theatre production from 2015. During the pandemic in 2020, National Theatre put the full production online for free, but I don’t believe there is a free source for it at the moment. However there is a clip of the bit I talked about on YouTube!
Enjoy the latest episode of the podcast:
I don’t have much to add to our discussion about the third chapter of Jane Eyre in our podcast, but I did want to recommend further reading about The Old Apothecary in Haworth and their connection to the Brontës in this blog post.
By the way, I have often stayed at the Apothecary Guest House when visiting Haworth which is a lovely, family-owned bed and breakfast. You can’t beat the historical location, and it’s proximity to the Parsonage.
Please enjoy our fourth episode of the Jane Eyre Files podcast:
Also Mike mentions my choose your own adventure take on Jane Eyre - The Governess of Thornfield - and if you are interested in reading it, you can find out more here.
We discuss Chapter 2 in the third episode of my podcast Jane Eyre Files, and I would like to make a habit of posting a little extra for each new episode of additional thoughts or comments I would like to make about the chapter discussed.
In this episode of the podcast we discuss the beginning of Gothic elements in the novel, and the Red Room - such a prominent point for analysis in Jane Eyre academia. I'm afraid I don't have much to add to the analysis, as sometimes construing the Red Room to have such deep meaning seems a little far-fetched to me.
I do feel it fascinating to see that Jane takes a moment to be instrospective before succumbing to thinking about the fears being in the Red Room generates. It seems like something Jane will often do - mull over her feelings about a situation before considering things that might concern the average person more. Examples are young Jane's time at Lowood which is full of privation but instead of moaning on how hungry, cold, or friendless she might be, Jane talks more about Helen Burns and her intellecutal stimulus. Adult Jane mulls over her feelings for Mr. Rochester more often than what the mysterious noises in the 3rd floor is, and what might be kept secret there. Even when the veil is torn before her wedding, she dismisses it easily (also because she loves and trusts Mr. Rochester of course).
This is one of the reasons why I love the novel though - you get such an intimate look at Jane's feelings, which no other character in the book gets!
I’ve always thought that Daphne du Maurier has acknowledged that her 1938 novel Rebecca was a re-working of Jane Eyre, but I haven’t been able to confirm that (if anyone does know of a direct quote from du Maurier, please let me know!) But nevertheless there are still many similarities between the two in terms of plot and themes, and having recently re-read Rebecca, I wanted to dive into how these two wonderful books mirror each other.
Both Jane Eyre and Rebecca are deemed Gothic novels - stories in which romance, suspense, and horror intertwine. And both novels heavily feature elements often associated with Gothic stories - death, fire, madness, young and innocent women, and older, imposing men.
The relationship dynamic between the two couples feature some similarities, (older man, younger woman, class difference, mystery/secrets between the two) but there are also important differences - Jane and Rochester get to know each other more, and their courtship is not quite as whirlwind as the second Mrs. de Winter and Maxim. In Rebecca, the tension does not lie in whether or not Rochester and Jane will declare their feelings for each other, but in whether Maxim loves his second wife, even though he married her. Jane Eyre appeals to me for the tension in a romance undeclared as I found in my re-reading of Rebecca that I felt very frustrated by how Maxim treated his wife. I did understand why he felt estranged and unsure - it was endearing to find out that he wasn’t sure if she could love an older man like him as much - but he did kind of ignore her for most of the time she was at Manderley. Granted the girl also spent most of her time trying to pacify Maxim whenever he showed a temper, so the dynamic between the two felt much less romantic than in Jane Eyre.
In bringing the two main characters together within the first few chapters, Daphne du Maurier is given time to develop the suspense and psychological dread that defines Rebecca. Film adaptations can add as many shadowy hallways and dramatic musical beats to Jane Eyre as they want, but the story is much more focused on character development and romantic tension. Once the reader becomes absorbed by the narrator in Rebecca, her every thought seems to tend towards “I’m not good enough.” or “He doesn’t love me.” Her neuroticism can be exasperating but I of course also empathized with her insecurities. And I enjoyed the way the author plotted how every scene seemed to exacerbate that. Rebecca is such a great example of how one’s inner monologue affects you.
With the actual character of Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier creates an interesting version of Bertha Mason. Rebecca and Bertha share many traits - beauty and accomplishments, an alluring personality, and ultimately selfishness, greed, and a malicious streak. While some of Bertha’s vices may be explained by mental illness, Rebecca stands on her own as fully embracing her vices. She shows no remorse, yet is still captivating as the villain of the story. Just as Bertha proves an obstacle to Rochester’s happiness, Rebecca ingeniously places an obstacle to Maxim’s happiness even in death. It’s fascinating how du Maurier crafted a story where the dead haunt the living - but in a way that feels realistic and doesn’t rely on paranormal intervention. The story is also beautiful in its simplicity - the other characters build up Rebecca in the mind of the second Mrs. de Winter and the reader so that it makes sense to name the book after her. For despite the de Winters’ attempts at happiness there is seemingly no escape from Rebecca and her machinations.
It is also interesting to consider Rochester and Maxim. One is adamant that he can not kill - even indirectly - his first wife, and another does so in a moment of passion. I wonder if that could be a commentary on the superior nature of one over the other - but if Rochester was in a situation closer to Maxim - where he had to acknowledge Bertha as his wife, with the possibility of raising her child which he knows is not his - would that drive him to commit such a crime? Impossible to say, but a very thought-provoking conundrum. You could even consider that if Jane was in a similar situation to the second wife - would Jane work to cover up her husband’s crime? I kind of believe in that case that she would not.
Even if du Maurier does not acknowledge Jane Eyre as a direct inspiration for Rebecca, I love thinking about Rebecca as a sort of inversion of Charlotte Brontë’s novel. Where the focus is not on the two characters in love, but on the shadow between them and how that shadow grows until it must be acknowledged. Bertha Mason in Jane Eyre is more of a plot device in how she affects the relationship between Jane and Rochester - with Jane only going on to develop further and achieve independence. Rebecca does cause the second Mrs. de Winter to develop further, but she is limited in her transformation. I love the two works for different reasons and find them both engrossing and intelligent reworkings of a romantic Gothic tale.
Inspired by Rachel’s recent blog post where she answers the question “What was your reaction when you first read Jane Eyre?” I wanted to share my story on the blog. Please visit Rachel’s blog Waking Up With The Brontës to read her enlightening story.
I’ll begin with what made me pick up Jane Eyre to read in the first place. I believe I was just entering high school when I decided to read a book my Mom had called The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. Before this, my favorite reading material were Nancy Drew books, mysteries, and fun teenage girl dramas, so this was something different for me. And I loved it! The wit and the way the story was crafted drew me in and made me fall in love with the characters. Because of this I fell in love with the idea of classic literature and I wanted to explore more. These books were well regarded for a reason, and I was curious to know why.
I did read more of Mark Twain’s work, but I also looked at lists of “classic literature” and somehow ended up borrowing Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë from my local library. I found it to be an absorbing read, but the characters are complex, and it was a story that I didn’t entirely find appealing. Still, the plot drew me in, and the characters were intriguing, if sometimes unlikable. There were no other novels by Emily, but I did see that her sister wrote a famous one.
By this time, I was a sophomore in high school, and I again borrowed a Brontë book from the library - Jane Eyre. I remember so vividly when I first opened the book up and started reading. I had just come out of my tennis physical education class, and while waiting for my friend to finish changing into her regular clothes so we could walk to our next class, I decided to do a little reading.
The novel Jane Eyre is full of literary references, allusions, and quotations that enrich the story and showcase how well-read Charlotte (and consequently Jane) was. This post highlights those literary references and gives a bit of context for each work that might help illuminate their use in the book. I have done my best to note all instances where Charlotte references a literary work (not including references to historical events) but I probably missed a few. If you know of any I missed and the particular quote, please let me know!
I thought it would be interesting to start this post with Charlotte’s recommendation of books to read to her friend Ellen Nussey. Charlotte was eighteen when she wrote this letter. I can’t say I was as well-read at her age!
“You ask me to recommend some books for your perusal; I will do so in as few words as I can. If you like poetry let it be first rate, Milton, Shakespeare, Thomson, Goldsmith, Pope (if you will, though I don’t admire him), Scott, Byron, Campbell, Wordsworth and Southey.” (letter dated July 4, 1834):
The Bible: I must acknowledge that there are many references to Biblical passages and characters in Jane Eyre but I have decided not to list them here, as it would be a lot of work. It’ll be something I’ll save for a future post.
Greek and Roman Mythology: Another omission are the references to mythology throughout the novel. Something else I’ll save for another time.
“Where the Northern Ocean, vast whirls, Boils round the naked, melancholy isles Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.”
A History of British Birds is a natural history book, published in two volumes. Volume 1, "Land Birds", appeared in 1797. Volume 2, "Water Birds", appeared in 1804. The quote is from the second volume.
1961 adaptation of Jane Eyre (this is such a staged photo, there's no scene like this in the episode!)
There have been a handful of American hour long adaptations of Jane Eyre that were produced in the 40s/50s/60s for anthology television shows. Three are generally available - one of them starred Charlton Heston as Rochester and another with Patrick MacNee (from the TV show The Avengers) as the brooding hero - and they are all interesting in their way, but there is another version that is only available to watch for free at the Paley museum in LA and NYC. This one starred Sally Ann Howes and Zachary Scott. It's one that I want to explore in this post because it's so interesting to me as an adaptation. And in many ways I adore it.
I think of this post as a way for me to show that I can like Jane Eyre adaptations that change a lot of things from the book. I'm not completely close-minded when it comes to liberties taken. I do generally like for adaptations to be faithful, but if, in the event of time constraints, or catering to the audience, etc, there has to be some big changes, I still hope that those changes remain faithful to the story/characters/spirit of the original. And in this TV version, I found that to be the case, which is very rare, especially with the changes they decided to make and the fact that it is only an hour long.
Recently I was listening to an episode of the James Bonding podcast which discussed specific things the hosts would change in the James Bond film franchise if they could - à la George Lucas and his tampering of the Star Wars films. Of course that got me thinking about “Jane Eyre” and what I would possibly want to change about a novel I think of as practically perfect. And really, I wouldn’t want to change anything because the story works so well as is, but if I were able to tweak, change, edit, or omit something just for my personal satisfaction, here are my ideas:
If I could - I might just prevent the first tragedy in the novel. I know that Helen’s death is so important to Jane’s growth and for the symbolism of Helen being so pious and ethereal as to be too good for this world. And of course, it is also true to life, as Charlotte’s older sister, whom Helen is based on, tragically died at a young age. But wouldn’t it have been wonderful if Helen could see grown-up Jane? And for the reader to see what kind of person Helen would become? Perhaps Helen drops out of Jane’s life in some other way - her father could have taken her from Lowood - and then Helen and Jane can reunite in a meaningful way. Perhaps to help Jane deal with discovering Rochester’s secret. I would have loved to see the adult version of Jane and Helen’s friendship.
I talked about this on my blog some time ago, so I’m going to mostly repeat myself here. To start, I think of Charlotte Bronte’s comments on Bertha from a letter she wrote to her publisher in 1848:
“I agree with them that the character is shocking, but I know that it is but too natural. There is a phase of insanity which may be called moral madness, in which all that is good or even human seems to disappear from the mind and a fiend-nature replaces it. The sole aim and desire of the being thus possessed is to exasperate, to molest, to destroy, and preternatural ingenuity and energy are often exercised to that dreadful end. The aspect in such cases, assimilates with the disposition; all seems demonized. It is true that profound pity ought to be the only sentiment elicited by the view of such degradation, and equally true is it that I have not sufficiently dwelt on that feeling; I have erred in making horror too predominant. Mrs. Rochester indeed lived a sinful life before she was insane, but sin is itself a species of insanity: the truly good behold and compassionate it as such.”
It is sad that Bertha has an illness that could not be treated at the time, and was not really well understood then either. Charlotte held a view of compassion which I agree with, but which it seems she didn’t really emphasize in the actual novel. And I think it is interesting how the modern take on Bertha sees her more as a victim which I don’t necessarily agree with.
Yes, she was locked up and stripped of all rights, but then again she has shown homicidal tendencies. She’s violent and unstable. It was the intent of the author to show this. Yes, this is not the way someone mentally ill should be treated now, but we are talking about the 1800s - this was probably the best treatment for her at the time. Rochester does his best, but he doesn’t love her - indeed never did love her really, so he can’t be blamed for not wanting to take care of her. He is forced to remain married to her by law.
While Bertha is an unfortunate character in the novel, I really don’t see her as being mistreated given the circumstances and the situation.
As for contemporary parallels, I think there is sometimes a comparison now of a strongly opinionated, slightly unconventional woman being a “Bertha” but I don’t see that. I feel like a contemporary parallel for Bertha would be someone who is vain, selfish and someone who disregards the feelings of other people. As that was who Bertha was before her madness. And I can’t really think of any parallels at the moment...
I think ultimately Jane Eyre is a novel about self-fulfillment and independence. And balance. While Jane is the intellectual equal of Mr. Rochester, to truly have a happy life and a happy marriage, she needs to be his equal in every way. And financial security makes that a possibility for her. It is truly a happy ending when Jane can come back to Mr. Rochester on her own terms. She is not beholden to him for anything and the decision is entirely hers - to love and marry Mr. Rochester because she wants to (and when Mr. Rochester is worthy of her). For Jane, inheriting money, just enables her to fully achieve what she wants from life.
Ooh what a great question! Jane Eyre is so relatable now because it expresses passion and emotion so well. In an understated Victorian way, but still it is there and makes the romance between Jane and Rochester so memorable. Rochester of course is very physical in his courting of Jane. After they are engaged, he holds her and kisses her and generally shows her physical affection. So much so that Jane tries to keep him away in an effort to show more decorum.
I love that Jane absolutely loves him, but she has to consciously maintain a distance so she can keep to Victorian propriety.
The romantic tension between Jane and Rochester also adds to the general suspense of the story and creates a great sense of urgency in their interactions. The reader wants them to get together, and it keeps the reader turning pages every time it is delayed. I think the fact that Jane expresses romantic desire makes the novel that much more modern and relatable now.
