Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

I am a self confessed Jane Eyre hater. My A-level class despaired of the intense hatred I had of this book. As far as I was concerned it is a book where the heroine is a strange of mix of passion and meekness that do not mix properly. Jane came across as almost bipolar with some of her personality traits juddering to a stop or failing to materialise at key moments. She claimed strength of character but her attempts to stand up for herself were inadequate and badly timed and only served to push her further into problems.

I also took offence from Mr. Rochester who I found to be a detestable example of the 'Byronic' Hero and one a refuse on principle to like. He is arrogant, erratic, shows no consideration for anyone else's feelings and of course, imprisons his previous wife in a tower. In fact I was cheering on Bertha for most of the book hoping she would stop the endless moping of both the main characters. 

The book frustrated me.

And then I read it again, this time without my class attempting to brow beat me into loving it and I realised that it is in fact less detestable then I had up until that point assumed. Shocking! I found myself actually rooting for the union between Mr Rochester and Jane Eyre. Imagine my surprise when I realised that I had actually come to like Jane! My opinion on Mr. Rochester remains just about the same, if a little more sympathetic. But Jane! I have started to appreciate just how strong she was to run away from Rochester in the end, she had finally found a measure of happiness but she was willing to throw it away to maintain her moral integrity.  Her treatment of the Reeds was saintly and I am sure I could not match it, her ability to persevere despite everything going wrong is spectacular. 

Now you may think that I have gone from the extreme of hate to love completely and can now admit no fault to Jane's character but as much as I would like to wholly love a character I am afraid there is something I still cannot reconcile. Her lack of sentiments throughout is astounding, she withholds feelings to such an extent that it is hard to understand where they come from. Whilst this suppression of emotion may have been impressed on her as a child, her continued ignorance of her own feelings leads her into more trouble that out.

So at last I have come to like Jane Eyre, in the book form at least. I cannot truly link the book with any of the film adaptations I've seen where the tendency seems to be to romanticise the text unnecessarily to the point where the characters are unrecognisable and then I do not like them again and will have to learn all over again how to like the various Jane Eyre presented. 

Now I have only to start liking Wuthering Heights and I will have reconciled myself to the Bronte sisters.