The Thing about Jane

Back in the day, girls like Jane Eyre were considered subversive and not fit for the eyes of young ladies, especially young ladies of the governess persuasion who might have designs on their employers' hearts. This, my precious ones, is important: without once removing so much as a hairpin (modern temptresses of employers, take note!), Jane winds Mr. Rochester around her tiny, sprite-like finger, where he stays - despite the temptations of the beautiful Blanche, his *SPOILER* wife, and various foreshadowy things like a sundered horse chestnut tree.

I love this book. Every time I read it, Jane becomes more quietly plucky and more her own woman - it's as if she is more than the sum of her chapters. Mr. Rochester becomes more smitten, leaning on Jane's little steel frame figuratively and literally. The entire story has this beautiful arc and in some places comes full circle (see above re. leaning) that makes me feel as if the world ends up in the right place if you just follow your own staunch moral code.

This time through, I noticed some stuff about Jane that I maybe hadn't picked up on before. This, tangentially, is the beauty of books that stand up to multiple readings: once you know the story, you can immerse yourself in the world, seeing things that you didn't see because you were caught up in the DRAMA and the SUSPENSE and perhaps the AWFUL and DEGRADING PROPOSAL by St. John (pronounced "sen-jin," btw) on page 354 of my text. Seriously, that scene drops my jaw every time. And every time Jane says in her quiet way, "no, thank you, I will not marry you," I cheer a little harder for this most subtly feminist of Victorian novels. Remember, at this point Jane has no prospects of ever being married - the pinnacle of existence for the Victorian woman - and chooses to reject St. John anyway. That's ballsy. Y'anyhow, this time through I noticed all the bird and fairy references. In the first 3 pages of the book, Jane reads about sea birds in Bewick's History of British Birds, and it's off to the races from there. Everyone compares her to a bird. She is small, grey, has a bright eye, and perches on chairs instead of sits in them. She is a dove or maybe a sparrow.

And then, when all her dreams are about to come true in the least fulfilling way possible, Jane flies her nest. This realization hit me like a blow to the chest (I have had a blow, Jane!). Touché, Ms. Brontë, touché. (Tangent: I had a good time putting all the different little accents over all those E's. English needs more åccéñts.)

There is a reason that Jane Eyre and her first-person account of her life has grown in my estimation over the last few years (needless to say, it grew quietly.) Despite the giggles that inevitably escape 12-year-old me when Jane says that her "organ of veneration swelled," it's mostly a book about changing your station in life WHILE holding your morals together. I read this paragraph about Jane's struggle to leave Thornfield and promptly sent it to my friend who was going through a similar struggle involving leaving a man she loves but cannot be with*. Here, my chickadees, is the heart of Jane's character:

Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth? They have a worth - so I have always believed; and if I cannot believe it now, it is because I am insane - quite insane: with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can counts its throbs. Preconceived notions, foregone determinations, are all I have at this hour to stand by; there I plant my foot.


It seems quite modern, doesn't it? And that is why I love Jane.



*because he's a stupid stupidhead who doesn't see how "we should date other people" also means "I don't think you're the one, but I don't want to get rid of you until I find her."

A Challenge! Somewhat Like.. A QUEST! ('Cept Shorterish)

Remember Raych, whose blog and sister's art I lurve? She is Riting a Thesis that tickles my fancy bones. Then she solicited ideas for books and got soooo many, and then she posted her list, and then I said, "I wanna play!" and she said, "K! Homework really CAN be interesting!"*

And thus was the Everything Old is New Again Challenge born.

So grab your questing saddles and squinty reading glasses, kids. Buy a bushel of Fujis (yay, fall!), some crackers, and a whole mess of chillable red wine, park yourself on the patio, and get your read on!



*To which I replied, "maybe YOURS is, but what is MINE?" which is why I'll be procrastinating on mine, but not hers. It makes perfect sense, shut up.