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Becks

Jane Eyre Had Me Giggling Kicking My Feet, But Also Furrowing My Brow Tapping My Chin ★★★★★

There is nothing we love more on this page than duality; something that whisks you off your feet but forces you to think as it sends you plummeting back to earth. Evocative, entertaining and romantic, Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre was laying the groundwork for romcoms before Julia Roberts had the chance to set foot on set. With a cast of compelling characters, engaging plotlines and vivid, Gothic surroundings, Jane Eyre seems to be written with the reader in mind. Addressing us directly, Jane tells her story as if to a close friend, which for 684 pages, we get to be.


Jane Eyre is such a classic (Victorian) classic. The tale of an orphan navigating hard times, refusing to let life crush their spirit and yearning for whatever is beyond their confines. Well props to Brontë because I have a real Dickens/Annie based hatred towards orphan narratives, but she was able to make me fall in love with hers. And who wouldn't love Jane? She is strongminded and unwavering in her sense of self and her beliefs. No matter how persistently people try to extinguish this in her as a child, she never changes, right until the final pages she remains "Jane".

At times she seems to be a mouthpiece for Brontë to speak her mind, expressing sentiments on women's roles, autonomy and social hierarchy. One of my favourite examples is Jane's insistence on being regarded as human, rather than as a trophy on a pedestal, 'I am not an angel [...] and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself [...] I had rather be a thing than an angel'. I relate to her plight, to be seen as multifaceted and solid, to live an active, rather than a passive life. I also relate to her feeling in a mood and then having some wine and a little snack and instantly feeling better.


Jane is constantly balancing her honesty and her happiness, there are times where the pursuit of one means sacrificing the other. That is until she meets somebody who champions her bold spirit, appreciates her authenticity and loves her for who she is. Enter, on a clumsy horse, Mr Rochester. His and Jane's first encounter is the meet-cute of all meet-cutes; she helps him after he falls off his horse, thinks him to be some random, then later seem him at Thornfield Hall, dun-dun-duuun. Turns out he's the master of the house, her new employer, and guardian(?) to Adele, the little girl he has hired Jane to governess, and beefs at any given opportunity. It's the stuff of early 2000's chick-flick dreams. Even the couples little tiffs and misunderstandings are rife with romcom tropes. Like when Rochester explains to Jane why they shouldn't be together and suggests that she moves out, Jane agrees, which appalls Rochester, they go back and fourth like this for a while and suddenly they're engaged. Or how he only made Jane believe he was in love with somebody else to make her jealous. Or, oh yeah, the wedding that is called of when someone says 'I object'. I can picture it all playing out in slightly hazy camera quality. They'd definitely have Jane played by Anne Hathaway. The final chapter is basically written like a pre-credits voiceover montage, opening, 'reader, I married him' Jane sums up her and Rochester's new life together, tying up loose ends and leaving us with happily ever after.


Like an unrelenting force of nature, their love is not only meaningful and genuine, but undeniable. Before their relationship has been established they are practically bursting with repressed affection for each other, 'he made me love him without looking at me' Jane reflects. There are multiple occasions early in the novel where Rochester has to consciously conceal his feelings, like when he starts saying, 'good-night my....' and has to stop himself before he gets too mushy. And when Rochester gets mushy, oh boy does he, 'my fairy', 'my little mustard seed'. I literally tehehe-d. As they fall for each other, we can't help but fall with them. Brontë makes a point of showing us that theirs is a love that surpasses appearances. Though she stresses that he is handsome to her, Jane is never particularly complimentary of Rochester's looks, and he likes that she doesn't flatter him. He likes that she is someone who doesn't hide behind airs and graces. Similarly, Jane is framed as an unremarkable looking girl, a "Plain Jane", but it is her character that Rochester enjoys the most. This message is punctuated by Jane and Rochester's reunion at the end of the novel. It is is their first time meeting since Jane took off and Rochester got blinded in a housefire. They share this beautiful moment where Jane comes to him in the dark and keeps him guessing about who she is. He is desperate for it to be her and the whole thing is just so romantic and playful, and even a little erotic. No matter what has changed, Jane loves him just the same, if not even more tenderly than she did before, and even without seeing her, Rochester knows Jane is more than enough for him. <3


Though, Jane Eyre is much more than just a romance novel, it is full of gripping details and plotlines that keep us on our toes. Brontë is genius in her approach to the Gothic genre. SPOILERS: The "ghost" that turns out to be Mr Rochester's estranged wife he keeps locked in the attic, because, of course. The fortune teller who is actually Mr Rochester in disguise, all in an attempt to get Jane to confess her feelings (which was the moment he won me over because that's such a silly, goofy thing to do, what a creative guy). Brontë crafts a rich, shadowed tone over the novel while keeping it grounded in reality. Every strange goings-on can be explained and they never take a turn to the supernatural, meaning Jane and her story remain tangible and relatable, existing within a world that we recognise. Many of the Gothic elements which I love so much in Jane Eyre are replicated in Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca, famously my favourite book of all time. A young woman falling into the affections of a slightly aloof older man, going onto be hunted by his "ex" wife, and most importantly, the setting fire of a big fancy house. There is truly nothing like a big fancy house being set on fire in a classic piece of literature, gets me every time. Side note, I would write forever about the "mad woman in the attic" trope and its lasting implications for the presentation of women, but there are so many papers and articles that go into it in more depth than I have the time to. Just know that I am ENDLESSLY obsessed with this topic.


Jane Eyre had me intrigued and thoroughly entertained from (almost) start to finish. The only exception being the St. John plotline. I get why he's there, but he is just so boring and he got on my nerves with his whole holier-than-thou-vibe. The most unromantic man alive. I was so invested in Jane and Rochester's romance that I just wanted to get back to it, though I know it is the distance that makes their ending all the more satisfying. I think I found it hard to become entirely attached to a whole new cast of characters who we have spent over half of the book without. Despite all this, it's worthwhile if only for the sentiments Jane shares about St. John's marriage proposition, 'I felt how - if I were his wife, this good man, pure as the deep sunless source, could soon kill me without drawing from my veins a single drop of blood'. I audibly gasped reading that line.


*Oh, also this book has the second Brontë reference to this mysterious 'Rebecca' with a 'camel'? Food for thought.







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