Jane Eyre vs Pride and Prejudice

[Laura Clarke]

Hi guys,

I am a huge fan of the book Jane Eyre. For starters, there's Jane herself, who I admire more than anything. Her strength, independence, and piety, despite everything life throws at her (being plain and poor, the cruelty of her relatives, the death of Helen Burns, Mr Rochester's deceit), is amazing. Her counterpart, Mr. Rochester, is just as perfect. Brooding, sarcastic, passionate, and head-over-heels in love with Jane... I love this character. Their relationship is fascinating and the language of their conversations - beautiful. I especially like how they are both not pretty/handsome. It really shows how beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that their love is based on themselves as people, not just on appearances.

And then there's Pride and Prejudice. Yuck. Let's start with the heroine, Elizabeth. She comes from a big family with an annoying mom. Big deal. She is also beautiful and intelligent, and likely to attract the attention any guy - that doesn't sound like any underdog to me. And Darcy, I'm sorry, I know he's "every women's dream," but I just don't see it. Sure, he's rich and handsome, but who cares? He is pompous and rude. His "transformation" at the end into a less prideful guy - I'm not buying it. And, Darcy and Elizabeth's relationship? They never acted like they were in love at all. My interpretation: Darcy was interested in Elizabeth because she was an outspoken pretty girl. I believe he "pretended to change" at the end for his own sake because he didn't like being rejected (remember how shocked he was when she rejected him? Ug, how conceited can you get). Elizabeth was only interested in Darcy because he became the "stereotypical perfect guy." I mean really, if you could make a checklist: Handsome? check. Rich? check. Gentlemanly? check. Honestly, I bet every women the world would fell themselves compatible to him. Thus, there's nothing special in Darcy and Elizabeth's relationship - I think its superficial.

So, does anyone agree? I've honestly never met anyone who has.

If not, could you please explain the appeal of Pride and Prejudice and/or Darcy to me?

[Ecurb]

Darcy never locked his wife in the attic, lied to his lover, or dressed up as a gypsy. True -- he was something of a snooty dweeb -- but comparing him to Rochester is like comparing a shoplifter to Osama Bin Laden.

To each his (or her) own. I suppose we can understand why abandoned, abused Jane Eyre would love anyone who loved her back, but Rochester has to be one of the most unattractive heroes in fiction (along with Heathcliff).

Why must a heroine be an "underdog"? It is (of course) correct that Elizabeth Bennet has a life of luxury and ease, compared to Jane Eyre. That may make us pity Jane, but it hardly makes her a better heroine.

Regarding Darcy's "transformation", there are several schools of thought: first, some readers think Darcy wasn't so bad to begin with. Elizabeth overheard him saying that she "wasn't handsome enough to tempt me", and held it against him. But surely an offhand comment to a good friend isn't a mortal sin. According to this school of thought, Darcy is a bit shy (of people he doesn't know well), and is properly proud (why shouldn't he hate Wickham?)

Darcy disagrees. He specifically told Elizabeth that she had changed him (did Jane ever change Rochester?). WE know, of course, that most people don't alter their personalities as adults, and I prefer a combination of the two theories -- Darcy wasn't all that bad to begin with, but Elizabeth made him more self-aware.

Austen and Bronte were very different writers: Austen was a realist and a humorist (don't you like Darcy when he polishes off Miss Bingley with his humorous remarks?); Bronte a romantic and a fantasist. I like Jane Eyre (the person and the book),but not as much as Jane Austen. Austen is (perhaps) the funniest great novelist. Bronte has no sense of humor.

Nonetheless, it is Rochester, not Darcy, who is monstrous in his deceits and conceits.

[Laura Clarke]

Darcy never locked his wife in the attic, lied to his lover, or dressed up as a gypsy. True -- he was something of a snooty dweeb -- but comparing him to Rochester is like comparing a shoplifter to Osama Bin Laden.

Wife in the attic - I don't see why this is so bad. She was treated kindly. I mean, I wish he had had the sense not to marry her in the first place, but considering she was pretty much the bane of his existence and he was never cruel to her; that takes some skin.

Lying - Okay, you got me there. I let the "Rochester logic" get the best of me in the part where he begs Jane to stay (I love that part...). But yes, thinking logically, he should not have done that.

Gypsy - People harp on this a lot. I mean sure, its weird, but he's madly in love with Jane, and does this learn more about her. It adds to his romantic eccentricity...



"To each his (or her) own. I suppose we can understand why abandoned, abused Jane Eyre would love anyone who loved her back, but Rochester has to be one of the most unattractive heroes in fiction (along with Heathcliff)."

I'm sorry, I can't agree with that. I love Mr. Rochester...



"Why must a heroine be an "underdog"? It is (of course) correct that Elizabeth Bennet has a life of luxury and ease, compared to Jane Eyre. That may make us pity Jane, but it hardly makes her a better heroine."

I felt that Jane being the underdog does make her a better heroine, not because we pity her, but because of what she does in response her situation. In other words, I would characterize her as strong and moral not because her difficulties, but because she worked to overcome them. Elizabeth, though she may have those qualities, never displays anything because her life is so easy, making her harder to admire. In fact, does Elizabeth do anything that should make us respect her?


"Regarding Darcy's "transformation", there are several schools of thought: first, some readers think Darcy wasn't so bad to begin with. Elizabeth overheard him saying that she "wasn't handsome enough to tempt me", and held it against him. But surely an offhand comment to a good friend isn't a mortal sin. According to this school of thought, Darcy is a bit shy (of people he doesn't know well), and is properly proud (why shouldn't he hate Wickham?)"

Hey, the guy made eye contact with Elizabeth, and then said that rude comment within earshot if her - that's not the kind of thing you want to hear from your future "love of your life." And properly proud? I see it more as raw arrogance. Bingley was around as distinguished as Darcy, and he wasn't like that - it is never proper to be conceited.


"
Darcy disagrees. He specifically told Elizabeth that she had changed him (did Jane ever change Rochester?). WE know, of course, that most people don't alter their personalities as adults, and I prefer a combination of the two theories -- Darcy wasn't all that bad to begin with, but Elizabeth made him more self-aware."

If Darcy wasn't all that bad to begin with, then is there anything about his personality that was worth falling in love with? And Elizabeth making him more self-aware, its kind of sad that that needs to happen to make the story a happy ending. In Jane Eyre, one can argue either way if Jane changed Rochester or not, but the beauty of it is that it doesn't matter because Jane loves Rochester even with his all of his flaws. In Pride and Prejudice, we know that Elizabeth despised Darcy's original personal nature and only liked him after he "changed." Hmm... I don't know if this marriage is going to last...



"Austen and Bronte were very different writers: Austen was a realist and a humorist (don't you like Darcy when he polishes off Miss Bingley with his humorous remarks?); Bronte a romantic and a fantasist. I like Jane Eyre (the person and the book),but not as much as Jane Austen. Austen is (perhaps) the funniest great novelist. Bronte has no sense of humor."

I agree they are very different. Bronte definitively isn't a "funny" writer, but don't you smile every time Rochester calls Jane a witch, or elf? Or when Jane calls Rochester ugly... multiple times? And my favorite part, Brocklehurts: "What must you do to avoid Hell?" Jane: "I must keep in good health and not die." :lol: That is genius.



"Nonetheless, it is Rochester, not Darcy, who is monstrous in his deceits and conceits.

Haha nice rhyme. I might (reluctantly) agree with the "deceits," but I say Darcy is the one that "conceits." :)

[Ecurb]

Oh, come on. Rochester was treating his wife "kindly" by locking her in the attic and keeping her existence secret from the world (why so secret, I wonder, if he was treating her so kindly?). Personally, if I were her brother (whose name I disrecollect), I would have called the magistrates.

However, your opinion about Austen is shared by at least one commentator: Charlotte Bronte. Here's one thing she wrote about Austen:


"I have likewise read one of Miss Austen's works Emma—read it with interest and with just the right degree of admiration which the Miss Austen herself would have thought sensible and suitable—anything like warmth or enthusiasm; anything energetic, poignant, heartfelt, is utterly out of place in commending these works: all such demonstration the authoress would have met with a well-bred sneer, would have calmly scorned as outre and extravagant. She does her business of delineating the surface of the lives of genteel English people curiously well; there is a Chinese fidelity, a miniature delicacy in the painting: she ruffles her reader by nothing vehement, disturbs him by nothing profound: the Passions are perfectly unknown to her; she rejects even a speaking acquaintance with that stormy Sisterhood; even to the Feelings she vouchsafes no more than an occasional graceful but distant recognition; too frequent converse with them would ruffle the smooth elegance of her progress. ... Jane Austen was a complete and most sensible lady, but a very incomplete, and rather insensible (not senseless) woman, if this is heresy—I cannot help it. If I said it to some people (Lewes for example) they would accuse me of advocating exaggerated heroics, but I am not afraid of your falling into any such vulgar error."

Since Austen is my favorite novelist (along with one or two others), I can't agree with Charlotte Bronte (I almost wrote Acton or Ellis Bell, but I forget which one Charlotte was). Charlotte didn't have a sense of humor, so she failed to appreciate Austen's primary talent. Of course, because Austen was a genius, she was also profound. But the lack of passionate (and "poetic") romance in Austen wouldn't appeal to Bronte. I myself have a great affection for Marianne Dashwood, a romantic young heroine of whom the story disapproves, and wish Austen had offered her a more romantic consolation than ol' stick-in-the-mud, Colonel Brandon.

Also, I think Austen knew only too well the joys (and dangers) of romance. Think of Anne Eliot (in "Persuasion") recommending that Captain Benwick spend less time reading poetry, and more reading prose. Why? Poetry is dangerous. (It was certainly dangerous to the Brontes. Charlotte killed off Lucy's lover in Vilette for no better reason than that she thought it poetic of him to die).

The two authors are very different, though, and it's easy to see how some Austen fans might think "Jane Eyre" a silly melodrama, with little connection to reality, and some Bronte fans might think "P & P" a lightweight, unromantic confection. I love them both (although Austen is my favorite, and, even in sober consideration, I think her the greater writer, because, in part, she was one of the early geniuses of realism, a style that has dominated novel writing).

I've been rereading Anthony Trollope recently. He's more realistic than Austen, and more romantic (in a realistic rather than poetic way) than the Brontes. Great stuff (although Austen is considerably funnier, and, perhaps, more subtle).




In Jane Eyre, one can argue either way if Jane changed Rochester or not, but the beauty of it is that it doesn't matter because Jane loves Rochester even with his all of his flaws.


:)

This is the part I don't get. What (other than an abused childhood that had (reasonably) deranged one's sensibilities) could possibly make anyone love Rochester? He's as ugly in morals and personality as he is in person. Darcy is a wit (as much as Elizabeth is, although more subtly), and a good man -- honest, honorable, kind (to those with whom he is familiar), and (of course) rich as Croisus. What's not to like?

[nick mcglue]

Because Jane herself is damaged like Rochester. Love isn't always rational, and sometimes it is completely irrational. Bronte isn't making an argument for the rationality of Jane's love, she's presenting it. Considering Bronte's affection for the Romantics and the Romanticism of the novel, Jane's love makes perfect "sense."

[prendrelemick]

Jane Eyre is a good book, I'm not going to do it down. It gives its readers exactly what they want, the heroine remains constant and steadfast to her childhood principles and is rewarded in the end. Wrong doing is punished, (Dying without forgiveness or a little blindness perhaps.)It is satisfying in that way.

But to answer Ecurb's question above, this is Bronte's fantasy world where the rules of realism don't apply. In modern parlance Jane Eyre ( the book) 'jumps the shark' again and again. I think Jane's popularity is because she is what every young girl hopes to be when she grows up, or wishes she'd been more like afterwards.

Pride and Prejudice has its main characters more skilfully drawn, they grow and evolve through experience, they learn their lessons. Their journey - unlike Jane's - is internal. It is set in what appears to be a narrow world, but always the real one. Austin says what she sees and repeats what she hears - but she can hear what is not being said, and manages to convey that too, that is her great skill. An Austin conversation supplies everything you need to know about the character, principles, bearing, situation and foibles of the speaker - it almost describes them physically. Then there is her famous and delightful anarchic subtext (anarchic may be the wrong word - mischievous - if you like, and certainly ironic,) going on throughout. She is holding a mirror up to the society she lives in (and ours, amazingly) and with wicked accuracy, reminding us of our absurdities.
All this requires the most sublime skill in writing conjoined with an intellegent and open minded understanding of human nature. It is these qualities that make her as popular and relevent today as ever.

There's a lot more - whole books have been written- but that'll do for now. P&P, a story of narrow little lives has a content wider than the Sargasso Sea.

[Ecurb]

Well stated, Pren. I'm not sure why so many people compare Jane Austen with Charlotte Bronte. Perhaps it is merely because they are both women, and 19th century novelists. Or maybe "Jane Eyre" reminds some of "Jane Austen".

I think many Austen fans are girls who think (or would like to think) her novels romantic, because they are old-fashioned and revolve around girls engaging themselves to be married. Pride and Prejudice is a Cinderella story (although to a far lesser extent than "Jane Eyre"). Indeed, many Austen fans (including me) consider it to be flawed, especially compared to Austen's three adult masterpieces: Mansfield Park, Emma and Persuasion (although all six novels are very close to each other in quality). The meeting at Pemberley seems contrived and although I wouldn't want to part with one utterance of Mr. Collins or Lady Catherine, perhaps they belong more to the world of farce than to that of Realism (minor flaws!). Nonetheless, Pride and Prejudice remains the most popular of Austen's novels, probably because it it appeals to romantic notions, with its rich, proud hero, and pretty, witty heroine. Also, it has produced the most popular film and TV adaptations (although the movie "Persuasion" was quite good, and the Keira Knightley version of P & P made me think the novel had been written by Charlotte Bronte, with its dramatic music, wind-swept heaths, and Constable skies).

For readers who want romance in their Austen, I recommend Sense and Sensibility or Persuasion. The scene in S & S in which Elinor tries to comfort heartbroken Marianne is one of the most romantic in fiction (although the romance is between two sisters), and Persuasion is colored with romantic, autumnal hues (although it is a romance of memory, which might not appeal to young girls).

[Laura Clarke]

Because Jane herself is damaged like Rochester. Love isn't always rational, and sometimes it is completely irrational. Bronte isn't making an argument for the rationality of Jane's love, she's presenting it. Considering Bronte's affection for the Romantics and the Romanticism of the novel, Jane's love makes perfect "sense."

Perfectly said.


Darcy is a wit (as much as Elizabeth is, although more subtly), and a good man -- honest, honorable, kind (to those with whom he is familiar), and (of course) rich as Croisus. What's not to like?

Its funny you say this because this is exactly what I don't like about him. This probably sounds weird but its like he's ... too perfect to be believable. I mean, I have no problem with him being a "good man," but he's also rich and handsome? Come on. I feel like Austen takes away the "romanticism" by making him like this - Elizabeth could be falling in love with Darcy's looks and money for all we know. And, don't forget he's conceited - yuck.

And I love that quote you sent - I couldn't agree more! Bronte's writing grips the reader emotionally. Austen's writing just seems...cold



For readers who want romance in their Austen, I recommend Sense and Sensibility or Persuasion. The scene in S & S in which Elinor tries to comfort heartbroken Marianne is one of the most romantic in fiction (although the romance is between two sisters), and Persuasion is colored with romantic, autumnal hues (although it is a romance of memory, which might not appeal to young girls).

Okay, I'll try it

[Ecurb]

Its funny you say this because this is exactly what I don't like about him. This probably sounds weird but its like he's ... too perfect to be believable. I mean, I have no problem with him being a "good man," but he's also rich and handsome? Come on. I feel like Austen takes away the "romanticism" by making him like this - Elizabeth could be falling in love with Darcy's looks and money for all we know. And, don't forget he's conceited - yuck.

And I love that quote you sent - I couldn't agree more! Bronte's writing grips the reader emotionally. Austen's writing just seems...cold

We all wish (I hope) that we could enjoy as wide a variety of literature as possible, especially when it comes to canonical works that many readers of undoubted good taste love (which applies to the novels of both Charlotte Bronte and Jane Austen). There's no reason to force oneself to read literature that doesn't appeal to one's taste, though. Reading novels as a duty is like attending a banquet at the point of a spear. However expert the chef, the food just isn't going to taste as good as it otherwise might. (Apologies to secondary school literature teachers -- but I stand by that opinion.)

Personally, I like Elizabeth Bennet and don't hold her wit, sense of honor, independent mind, athletic body, and pretty face against her. Indeed, I like plain, other-worldly Jane Eyre, too.

[Laura Clarke]

All right, Ecurb, well said. I guess I'm just not a Pride and Prejudice kind of person. I didn't mind it the first time I read it, but after Jane Eyre... it just can't compare.
And I love Rochester and aspire to be like Jane - I just can't help it. :)

Just a hypothetical question for you: What do you think of St. John? I know this isn't really a fair question considering since Bronte doesn't spin him in a positive fashion, but lets just take him out of that "negative portrayal" and view him objectively. Since you're not a fan of Rochester, I assume you maybe prefer the "good guys?" I was just wondering because St. John (in a vague sense) always reminded me of Darcy in his ways of "fulfilling requirements" (handsome, gentlemanly, honest)

[Ecurb]

I'm no St. John fan. He's too self-righteous and intense for my taste, and he wants to kill Jane (by taking her to disease-ridden India). Darcy (I suppose) is a bit self-righteous, but he has a sense of humor about it, unlike St. John. Also, I like Darcy because he likes to argue -- remember how he tried arguing with Bingley, but Bingley refused? As may be obvious from this thread, I like to argue, too.

My ideal Christian in literature: Septimus Harding, curate of St. Ewold (Trollope, several novels).

[Laura Clarke]

He's too self-righteous and intense for my taste, and he wants to kill Jane

That made me crack up for some reason.
But yeah I figured that was a long shot - St. John was a little too intense to considered "likable" for probably anyone. But I think you'd agree that, in purely terms of what's good for the novel, he was a good character to have. He was important to the "second conflict" and he helped add to the religious theme of the novel (with Brocklehurst, Rochester, and St. John, Bronte truly touches all of the different "extreme" bases of religious faith - pretty impressive in my opinion).

And is it just me or does Bingley literally have no personality throughout the entire novel? I mean, I see how Austen was trying to present all the different marriage pairs (Charotte and Collins, Lydia and Wickham, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, etc) but even Jane Bennet had somewhat of a personalty. Bingley just seemed, to me, like a good-looking, well-mannered rock.


As may be obvious from this thread, I like to argue, too.

Same! That's what people hate most about me :)

[Laura Clarke]

Hey...I don't mean to pick at an old thought, but I just read this more closely...


Personally, I like Elizabeth Bennet and don't hold her wit, sense of honor, independent mind, athletic body, and pretty face against her. Indeed, I like plain, other-worldly Jane Eyre, too.

It's not that I hold anything against her, its just that she's less admirable as a heroine because she doesn't have to work as hard. Its like this: Lets say you have a naturally brilliant person, and then a naturally non-brilliant person. If the less-brilliant person is able to achieve as much as the brilliant person, I'd say that they accomplished more. Its not the brilliant person's fault for being smart... its just that they then have to do more because they've been given more.

So its not that Elizabeth Bennet did anything wrong... she just didn't do anything worth respecting, in my opinion.

[prendrelemick]

Hey...I don't mean to pick at an old thought, but I just read this more closely...



It's not that I hold anything against her, its just that she's less admirable as a heroine because she doesn't have to work as hard. Its like this: Lets say you have a naturally brilliant person, and then a naturally non-brilliant person. If the less-brilliant person is able to achieve as much as the brilliant person, I'd say that they accomplished more. Its not the brilliant person's fault for being smart... its just that they then have to do more because they've been given more.

So its not that Elizabeth Bennet did anything wrong... she just didn't do anything worth respecting, in my opinion.

She became self aware (faults and all) and grew from a country girl into a woman who could hold her own against Lady Catherine and her like. She grew to deserve and suit Darcy, and he grew to deserve her. Ok, she did this by observing the examples of folly that surrounded her and it's not exactly life or death but turning out how she did inspite of her family should be respected.

[Ecurb]

The romantic hero embarks on a quest to seek his fortune. So does Elizabeth Bennet. She slays no dragons, climbs no Koshta Belorns, and discovers no magic rings. But she does gain her prince (is he a buried treasure?) and she deserves him, because of her wit, her energy, and her moral courage. She loves her sister Jane about as well as one sister can love another, and she (not yet one and twenty) stands up to dragon-like Lady Catherine, and intimidating Mr. Darcy.

Charles Bingley is a minor character, but he is a good man, kind and gentle, which is why he doesn't like to argue, just as Jane Bennet is a good woman. I prefer Darcy to Bingley, and Elizabeth to Jane, but my preference may not concur with that of (say) God.

Although it is true that equal achievements confer more MORAL virtue on those for whom they come with difficulty, I will personally avail myself of a cure for cancer whether it is invented by a diligent drudge, or a lazy genius. I might admire the diligent drudge, but befriend the lazy genius (he'd have more time to watch the Cubs games with me). As Elizabeth says to Darcy, after their engagement:

"To be sure, you know no actual good of me -- but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love."

The countless readers who are in love with Elizabeth Bennet DO know some good of her, but that is not why they love her. They love her for her personality rather than her character.

[mona amon]

If Darcy wasn't all that bad to begin with, then is there anything about his personality that was worth falling in love with? And Elizabeth making him more self-aware, its kind of sad that that needs to happen to make the story a happy ending. In Jane Eyre, one can argue either way if Jane changed Rochester or not, but the beauty of it is that it doesn't matter because Jane loves Rochester even with his all of his flaws. In Pride and Prejudice, we know that Elizabeth despised Darcy's original personal nature and only liked him after he "changed." Hmm... I don't know if this marriage is going to last...

I do not think that's the point - it is not how bad the flaws are, but that there are flaws at all, and other obstacles to overcome before true love can be declared. Elizabeth has her shortcomings too at least from Darcy's point of view - her lack of money and her embarrassing family for instance, and he is socially awkward, stiff, and a bit of a snob. As Sheldon Cooper puts it, "Oh, it turns out Amy’s beloved Pride and Prejudice is a flawless masterpiece. He’s got too much pride, she’s got too much prejudice, it just works."

[Ecurb]

As Sheldon Cooper puts it, "Oh, it turns out Amy’s beloved Pride and Prejudice is a flawless masterpiece. He’s got too much pride, she’s got too much prejudice, it just works."

Austen sets the reader up to believe that Darcy's flaw is his pride (characters complain of it), and Elizabeth's her prejudice. But the two are flip sides of the same coin. Elizabeth's prejudice is born out of her pride -- she herself suggests that she is proud of her perspicacity and quickness of judgment. Darcy's pride is a form of prejudice -- prejudice in favor of certain values and associations. So both protagonists are proud AND prejudiced, and their pride and prejudice are inseparable. Here Darcy and Elizabeth discuss the matter:


"Certainly," replied Elizabeth -- "there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."

"Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."

"Such as vanity and pride."

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride -- where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."

Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss Bingley; "and pray what is the result?"

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise."

"No," said Darcy, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding -- certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for ever."

"That is a failing indeed!" cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me."

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil -- a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."

"And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody."

"And yours," he replied, with a smile, "is wilfully to misunderstand them."

Surely being "too little yielding" is a form of prejudice.

Also, who wouldn't like listening to such conversations, filled with humor and wisdom? I wish my real-life friends were as interesting, and as much fun.

[Laura Clarke]

But she does gain her prince (is he a buried treasure?)

Ack, her prince? Her buried treasure?

He just seems so superficial! Yes, he probably does "qualify" as a prince because of his looks, wealth, and the fact that he is a gentleman, but now it sounds like an "accomplishment" that Elizabeth snagged him. In fact, other then him being a "prince," what else is Elizabeth attracted to? If he was robbed of all of his money, lost his "pretty face" in an accident or something, and was no longer a "gentleman," would Elizabeth still want to marry him?

Hint hint - This is pretty much what happened to Rochester. Yes, he did not lose his money, but he did become extremely unattractive (I know he was not handsome to begin with, but becoming blind and one-handed? I think most girls would run...), and pretty much secluded himself like a wild animal. And yet, Jane Eyre still loved him. Now that is true love.


because of her wit, her energy, and her moral courage [...] and she (not yet one and twenty) stands up to dragon-like Lady Catherine, and intimidating Mr. Darcy.

Once again, being the underdog, Jane Eyre shows all of these characteristics even more so. Once again, its not Elizabeth's fault, she did do some good things, I'll admit, but its on a much smaller scale compared to Jane.

[Laura Clarke]

I do not think that's the point - it is not how bad the flaws are, but that there are flaws at all, and other obstacles to overcome before true love can be declared. Elizabeth has her shortcomings too at least from Darcy's point of view - her lack of money and her embarrassing family for instance, and he is socially awkward, stiff, and a bit of a snob. As Sheldon Cooper puts it, "Oh, it turns out Amy’s beloved Pride and Prejudice is a flawless masterpiece. He’s got too much pride, she’s got too much prejudice, it just works."

You see, I never liked that idea. Have you heard the saying that people don't change for a marriage? I understand that nobody is perfect, but marriages should stand on the basis of accepting each others flaws, not on "changing" oneself like Darcy apparently did. If Darcy was snobby before marriage, he will stay that way. And remember that Elizabeth does not like the prideful side of Darcy - she only marries him after she thinks he changed.

[Laura Clarke]

Also, who wouldn't like listening to such conversations, filled with humor and wisdom? I wish my real-life friends were as interesting, and as much fun.

Nah, call me crazy, but I'd rather listen to one of Rochester's monologues - filled with love, desperation, passion, and playful teasing...

[kiki1982]

Well, both Rochester's monologues and Darcy's wit have their charms, if you ask me :).

I've got a long-standing love-affair with Rochester, but I can stomach Darcy as well. The difference between the two in my mind has to do with a difference in time: Regency v Victorian. Although strictly speaking, Rochester was still a kind of Regency man, the novel he features in is clearly Victorian and the social environment the story plays in is that as well (conversation is less to impress). Darcy is a Regency man who moves around in a Regency world: everything is very regimented, very much segregated and for someone who isn't as sociable as Bingley, or dare we say Rochester (as he is portrayed when he has the Ingrams over), it's very difficult indeed.

The combination of the two theories about Darcy as Ecurb mentioned (?) is probably best, I agree. Darcy is probably both shy and aloof, maybe taught so by his parents. If his mother was at all a bit like her sister Lady Catherine, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree... But on the other hand, I don't think he is totally unwilling to associate with people with less money, though at arm's length: associate as friends and acquaintances, yes (after all Bingley only has half his income and Wickham before they fell out had even less), marriage, though, is a bridge too far. The second category is probably where he changes opinions, because he is caught out by a perfect match for him, only she is of lower stock.
That said, Austen indeed sets up an opinion about Darcy from the start, even before the reader encounters him for the first time, he's the man of 10,000 a year and must be ever so proud, because he never converses. In that respect he is somewhat treated unfairly, because not everyone can be as easygoing as Bingley in a big crowd with people whispering about your income.
From her side, Elizabeth's pride gets hurt by Darcy when he says he doesn't see anything handsome in her to tempt him. She considers herself the beauty of the area and such a view expressed by such a man vexes her terribly.
Though both characters change over the course of the novel, the changes they go through are not that profound, it's rather the way they act in public that's different.

Rochester, we must remember, is at a different phase in life. Where Darcy Is coming up to 30 and has never really been disappointed in life as such (apart from his spat with Wickham, whom he must have known very well, indeed), Rochester has been cheated and disappointed and by the age of 40, has become disillusioned and frustrated with the world as a true Byronic hero. He manipulates people and plays with their feelings. He has a major issue with trust and although Jane does truly love him, including all his flaws, she is wise enough to leave when his flaws would have a major and dire impact on her own life and lot. Brontë solves the issue with the removal of his sight: if he can't see, he is compelled to trust others to care for him. Initially he trusts John and Mary to do this, but ultimately he needs to be loved as well ('I want a wife') and as he marries Jane he needs to trust her with his heart. As Alcott makes Professor Baehr say so adorably: "Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladly will, because thou must take care of it hereafter," Rochester needs to open himself to Jane as he has not done to anyone possibly ever (or at least since he decided to close himself because he got hurt so badly). Before he loses his sight, IMO, he loves but still keeps his deepest feelings to himself. Brontë symbolises this offering of his heart in the semi-voluntary and semi-compelled nature of him giving Jane his watch 'because he has no use for it' and stretching out his hand to be led (how else would he be able to get home?). Only after three years, his sight returns somewhat, once his trust and heart is firmly in the care of Jane and he can longer take it back.
I'm not sure what makes him so adorable to me: his intellect or the fact he's so dependent on Jane at the end. There's something in men who need to be cared for... :p

Darcy's conversation is of course more exciting, but for all intents and purposes it's a bit shallow, although Austen never really lets her characters talk proper stuff. Such conversations must surely have taken place in Regency times, but they never feature in her novels in so many words, maybe because she is a woman or just because they didn't fit the context (Darcy and Elizabeth are not going to discuss at length the Protestant ideal of self-improvement at the Netherfield ball, although IMO Darcy alludes to it in that quoted passage).

[prendrelemick]

You see, I never liked that idea. Have you heard the saying that people don't change for a marriage? I understand that nobody is perfect, but marriages should stand on the basis of accepting each others flaws, not on "changing" oneself like Darcy apparently did. If Darcy was snobby before marriage, he will stay that way. And remember that Elizabeth does not like the prideful side of Darcy - she only marries him after she thinks he changed.

It's a difficult argument to counter because it makes no sense. Austin wrote them as changed, (grown into their true selves if you like) She created them and had them change, their ability to act contrary to Austin's intent doesn't exist. She granted them contentment, it's a given.

You see, I don't think Rochester really loves Jane at all. We see everything through Jane's eyes and she wants to believe it. He teases her cruelly and makes her miserable for his amusement. He sets up the false marriage. He acts exactly like a rake intent on seducing an innocent - there is plenty of literary precedence for that. Then, just when he needs someone to look after him, in walks Jane. "Aha" he thinks, "who better?" (He knew she was a rich heiress through their para-normal communication.)

Ok, for that last paragraph I may also have drawn conclusions Charlotte never intended. The real question is can the writer make you believe in the characters as they are written?

[Ecurb]

Nah, call me crazy, but I'd rather listen to one of Rochester's monologues - filled with love, desperation, passion, and playful teasing...

I have often thought that were Hamlet not a Prince, nobody would have put up with his monologues. Rochester isn't royal, and he isn't as eloquent as Hamlet. Why should I (or Jane, for that matter) listen to him. He's a pompous, cruel windbag, and so is St. John Rivers.

Unfortunately, I can't find my copy of Jane Eyre right now, so I have to search for evidence in the e-book on this site, which I dislike doing. It is well known that women who were subjected to domestic abuse as children often repeat this by finding abusers in later life. So it is with Jane Eyre, who falls for the abusive Mr. Rochester. He teases her, torments her, and (when she threatens to leave) talks about how he could crush her with his powerful hands, although (of course?) he would never do that to his "beloved" Jane.

When Rochester calls Jane is "elf" or his "witch" his attempts at pet names betray his true nature as a narcissist and egomaniac. Is Jane Eyre a "witch" because she has "bewitched" Rochester? Rochester cannot think of anyone except by thinking of himself.

Rochester has abused his wife, has failed to love his daughter (surely nobody can condone his treatment of Adele, whom he promises to ship off to school as soon as he marries Jane. Perhaps Jane has forgotten Lowood.).

Rochester is (I think) a man that only a fool could love. We may excuse Jane for loving him because she has had so little love in her life. But why should an objective reader love him? The only reason I can think of is that some women (and, especially, teenage girls) identify strongly with Jane. Adolescent girls (so I've been told) feel alone, unloved, and unworldly (unaccustomed as they are to their new bodies and new roles).

Nonetheless, even Jane Eyre is something of a snooty bigot. Considering her background, we might expect more charity on her part. Here, after Rochester offers her half his property, is her response:


"What do I want with half your estate? Do you think I am a Jew userer, seeking good investment in land?"

So much for racism, but Jane is not immune from class bigotry (despite being penniless herself). Here Jane unburdens herself with her opinion of her students at St.John's school:



"... Some time elapsed before, with all my efforts, I could comprehend my scholars and their nature. Wholly untaught, with faculties quite torpid, they seemed to me hopelessly dull; and, at first, all dull alike: but I soon found I was mistaken ... I found some of these heavy-looking, gaping rustics wake up into sharp witted girls enough. ... These soon took a pleasure in doing their work well; in keeping their persons neat; in learning their tasks regularly; and in acquiring quiet and orderly manners. "

Modest, plain Jane Eyre seems to be a bit full of herself here. Transforming those dull rustics into actual human beings must take some doing. Let's all give her a hand!

Later, Miss Eyre continues in the same vein:


"... I stood with the key in my hand, exchanging a few words of special farewell with some half-dozen of my best scholars: as decent, respectable, modest, and well-informed as could be found in the ranks of the British peasantry. And that is saying a great deal; for after all, the British peasantry are the best taught, best mannered, most self-respecting of any in Europe: since those days I have seen paysannes and Bauerinnen; and the best of them seemed to me ignorant, course, and besotted, compared with my Morton girls."

Charlotte Bronte lived briefly in either France of Belgium (I can't remember which). Did she find the peasantry "ignorant, course and besotted", I wonder? As for her scholars being "decent, respectable, and modest", if they are, they differ considerably from Mr. Rochester, who is indecent, conceited, and utterly unworthy of respect. He's a whore monger, a wife abuser, and a cruel, egotistical excuse for a man.

By the way, the Jane Austen novel which can be reasonably compared to "Jane Eyre" is "Mansfield Park". Fanny Price (like Miss Eyre) is sent to live with her aunt and uncle, is abused by one aunt (Mrs. Norris), and has a romance with a moralizing clergyman (Edmund Bertram). While Miss Eyre revels in her "plainness", the equally plain Fanny blossoms. That's because Fanny actually loves people and appreciates them. The blossoming of her personal beauty mirrors that of her soul. (Fanny is my least favorite Austen heroine, and I can never forgive Edmund for his cruelty to Mary Crawford at the end of the book, but neither is as bad as their counterparts in Jane Eyre.)

[Laura Clarke]

That said, Austen indeed sets up an opinion about Darcy from the start, even before the reader encounters him for the first time, he's the man of 10,000 a year and must be ever so proud, because he never converses. In that respect he is somewhat treated unfairly, because not everyone can be as easygoing as Bingley in a big crowd with people whispering about your income.

Kudos, Kiki! I never thought of it that way, but you're right. I didn't think it was possible, but now do I feel some sympathy for him...


Rochester, we must remember, is at a different phase in life. Where Darcy Is coming up to 30 and has never really been disappointed in life as such (apart from his spat with Wickham, whom he must have known very well, indeed), Rochester has been cheated and disappointed and by the age of 40, has become disillusioned and frustrated with the world as a true Byronic hero. He manipulates people and plays with their feelings. He has a major issue with trust and although Jane does truly love him, including all his flaws, she is wise enough to leave when his flaws would have a major and dire impact on her own life and lot. Brontë solves the issue with the removal of his sight: if he can't see, he is compelled to trust others to care for him. Initially he trusts John and Mary to do this, but ultimately he needs to be loved as well ('I want a wife') and as he marries Jane he needs to trust her with his heart. As Alcott makes Professor Baehr say so adorably: "Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladly will, because thou must take care of it hereafter," Rochester needs to open himself to Jane as he has not done to anyone possibly ever (or at least since he decided to close himself because he got hurt so badly). Before he loses his sight, IMO, he loves but still keeps his deepest feelings to himself. Brontë symbolises this offering of his heart in the semi-voluntary and semi-compelled nature of him giving Jane his watch 'because he has no use for it' and stretching out his hand to be led (how else would he be able to get home?). Only after three years, his sight returns somewhat, once his trust and heart is firmly in the care of Jane and he can longer take it back.

Gotta love those Byronics! :)


Darcy's conversation is of course more exciting, but for all intents and purposes it's a bit shallow, although Austen never really lets her characters talk proper stuff

That's exactly how I've always felt. While some of the conversations are entertaining, a lot of times I feel like he's just talking for the sake of talking

[Laura Clarke]

It's a difficult argument to counter because it makes no sense. Austin wrote them as changed, (grown into their true selves if you like) She created them and had them change, their ability to act contrary to Austin's intent doesn't exist. She granted them contentment, it's a given.

You see, I don't think Rochester really loves Jane at all. We see everything through Jane's eyes and she wants to believe it. He teases her cruelly and makes her miserable for his amusement. He sets up the false marriage. He acts exactly like a rake intent on seducing an innocent - there is plenty of literary precedence for that. Then, just when he needs someone to look after him, in walks Jane. "Aha" he thinks, "who better?" (He knew she was a rich heiress through their para-normal communication.)

Ok, for that last paragraph I may also have drawn conclusions Charlotte never intended. The real question is can the writer make you believe in the characters as they are written?

Haha, well done prendrelemick - that shocker Jane Eyre analogy really drew my attention. Maybe I do speculate a little too far off the mark with Darcy...

I think that my main problem with Pride and Prejudice is that its ending is just...too happy - Like a too-sweet desert that makes you sick. I mean, come on, the handsome rich guy marries the beautiful girl in the end? It just feels so artificial, like Cinderella, Snow White, etc. (I know Jane Eyre also had a happy ending, but it was bittersweet enough to feel more "real").
Perhaps my discontentment with the ending did make me go too far, but I stand by the fact that it was "too perfect" for my liking.

[Laura Clarke]

Oh, and Ecurb - just letting you know that I'm not ignoring you. I read your post earlier (filled with good points I disagree with by the way), but my server is glitching and I can't see it right now. I'm planning on responding as soon it comes back up though, so I can scrutinize it closely :)

[prendrelemick]

Haha, well done prendrelemick - that shocker Jane Eyre analogy really drew my attention. Maybe I do speculate a little too far off the mark with Darcy...

I think that my main problem with Pride and Prejudice is that its ending is just...too happy - Like a too-sweet desert that makes you sick. I mean, come on, the handsome rich guy marries the beautiful girl in the end? It just feels so artificial, like Cinderella, Snow White, etc. (I know Jane Eyre also had a happy ending, but it was bittersweet enough to feel more "real").
Perhaps my discontentment with the ending did make me go too far, but I stand by the fact that it was "too perfect" for my liking.

That's fair enough. I have a similar problem with Jane, the woman has no faults! she's so perfect she makes you sick. When she runs off after the "wedding" I lost all patience with her - I mean preferring death by exposure and starvation to an extra marital romp with her beloved Rocky ? C'mon.
Then she stumbles upon her cousins (oh really!) and finds she is rich (you're pulling my leg) and that "call" from Rochester (oh stop it now).

I wouldn't mind those plot twists if I was being sucessfully carried along - It's a fiction after all, it's all about maintaining a suspension of disbelief. I can't manage it, Charlotte loses me in that last quarter.

ps. P&P is essentially Cinderella.

[kev67]

That's fair enough. I have a similar problem with Jane, the woman has no faults! she's so perfect she makes you sick. When she runs off after the "wedding" I lost all patience with her - I mean preferring death by exposure and starvation to an extra marital romp with her beloved Rocky ? C'mon.
Then she stumbles upon her cousins (oh really!) and finds she is rich (you're pulling my leg) and that "call" from Rochester (oh stop it now).

I wouldn't mind those plot twists if I was being sucessfully carried along - It's a fiction after all, it's all about maintaining a suspension of disbelief. I can't manage it, Charlotte loses me in that last quarter.

ps. P&P is essentially Cinderella.

I thought the last section was a bit weak for those reasons. I think it is fair enough for her to run away considering her mental state, but to stumble upon her cousins after roaming around at random. It would not be so bad if she decided to get off at that town because there was something about the town's name, like it had a familar ring to it, but that is not how it was written. The inheritance was rather fortunate too. I suppose the idea was to put her on an equivalent footing to Rochester, but it does not do her any credit. Her uncle was the successful merchant, not her. Then there was the telepathic cry for help. On the other hand, CB managed to make St John Rivers seem very creepy.

I do not think Jane was all that perfect neither. I thought she was somewhat prejudiced. She appears to put down Mr Mason's weakness of mind and Bertha's madness down to their mixed creole blood. In addition, I noted she was a little prejudiced to Europeans (i.e. not British). She is a little brittle too.

[prendrelemick]

Yes, Charlotte could've written a less incredible ending quite easily and kept the resolution as it is - so we have to assume she chose not to. Why???



I often wonder if Jane could have coped if Rochester's brother in law had turned up after her wedding night - could her faith and those unbending morals have coped ? Would Rochester end up with two wives in the Attic? A much better ending I think.

[Laura Clarke]

Okay Ecurb... Here we go:

Rochester isn't royal, and he isn't as eloquent as Hamlet. Why should I (or Jane, for that matter) listen to him. He's a pompous, cruel windbag, and so is St. John Rivers.

Let's start with St. John. I honestly respect him. He is honest, hardworking, and devoted to his beliefs. Yes, he does have faults - he is a little to cold and unfeeling to be considered a "likable" character, but I would not call him cruel.

And "eloquence?" Rochester is a passionate character, and his monologues reflect that. They are filled with emotion - they truly show what he is feeling. Whether he is the most refined speaker or not, I think it matters more what he says and means than how he says it (though I would argue that his monologues are beautifully written). And the dialogues in Pride and Prejudice? Yes, the dialogues are pretty elegant- (well-written by a talented writer, I'll admit) but do those dialogues really say or express much? I mean, sometimes I feel like they were more written to sound eloquent, rather really express something meaningful.


So it is with Jane Eyre, who falls for the abusive Mr. Rochester. He teases her, torments her, and (when she threatens to leave) talks about how he could crush her with his powerful hands, although (of course?) he would never do that to his "beloved" Jane.

Teasing her: I would not consider that abusive - I always saw it as good-natured, and Jane does not seem to mind it
Torments her: When? I assume that you are referencing the time when he made her sit and watch him flirt with Miss Ingrim? I would not consider that "torment."
Sure, maybe it was not the best thing he could have done, but his intentions were not malicious - He was in love with Jane, and wished to see if she had any feelings for him. He, unlike readers like ourselves, had no idea of Jane's pain.
Threatening her: Once again, not one of his highlights. But, this is who he is - a Byronic with flaws. Rochester is a passionate guy, both in times of happiness and times of desperation. However, I would like to note that he does not harm her - I honestly do not think he ever would. Is there any evidence in the book that would suggest otherwise? He lived with his mad, violent wife for 15 years, the bane of his happiness, but refused to strike or harm her in any way. Moreover, he had many opportunities to take his anger out on Mason, one of his "deceivers" in the whole operation, but did not. Rochester is not a violent guy, just very passionate.


When Rochester calls Jane is "elf" or his "witch" his attempts at pet names betray his true nature as a narcissist and egomaniac. Is Jane Eyre a "witch" because she has "bewitched" Rochester? Rochester cannot think of anyone except by thinking of himself.

Sorry, Ecurb, I think you went too far on this one. I seriously doubt that every time he called by one of these names he thought about himself.
I've always seen these names as terms of endearment, showing Jane's uniqueness. Witch, elf, changeling, fairy? - Jane is no traditional girl. She is small and childlike in appearance, yet has a fiery personality and a strong sense of self. Jane is an interesting combination, and I think that Rochester's "irregular" pet names for her are well-deserved.


Rochester has abused his wife, has failed to love his daughter (surely nobody can condone his treatment of Adele, whom he promises to ship off to school as soon as he marries Jane. Perhaps Jane has forgotten Lowood.).

Rochester never abused his wife.

And with Adele, yes I'll admit, I never liked his treatment of her. On one hand, though, she is most likely not his daughter - he certainly does not think she is - and yet he takes her in. Think about it, if your "girlfriend" cheated on you with someone else, had that person's child, and then presented you with the kid, how would that make you feel? I respect the fact that he took her in and gave her home, even though she was not his responsibility. However, in terms of his personal treatment of her, I do wish had been a little kinder to her. I understand if he still felt resentment for Adele's mother, but I don't think he should have projected some of that resentment onto Adele. Overall, he tempered a benevolent act with some negativity - not the worst thing in the world, we know he is not perfect.

In terms of sending her to boarding school, we do not know whether he was aware of them being good or bad. We do know, however, that Jane does not forget about Adele. Remember at the end when Jane found Adele's current school a bit too strict, and switched her into a more indulgent one?


Rochester is (I think) a man that only a fool could love. We may excuse Jane for loving him because she has had so little love in her life. But why should an objective reader love him? The only reason I can think of is that some women (and, especially, teenage girls) identify strongly with Jane.

You are right, I do identify strongly with Jane. However, Rochester is also romantic, passionate, strong, protective, and slightly vulnerable - all qualities that make me adore him (And he's head over heels in love with Jane).


So much for racism, but Jane is not immune from class bigotry (despite being penniless herself).... Modest, plain Jane Eyre seems to be a bit full of herself here. Transforming those dull rustics into actual human beings must take some doing.

Yes, Jane is still influenced by the patterns of society - never said she was not. When in the presence of Rochester and Miss Ingrim, she recognized that she was of a lower social class, and then behaved accordingly. Therefore, when exposed to uneducated farm girls of a lower social class, we cannot blame her for assuming her place as "above" them. However, I would not characterize this as being "full of herself;" she allowed herself to be impressed by her rustic students and was properly humbled by them - later she acknowledges that she was mistaken in her initial assumptions.


[...] if they are, they differ considerably from Mr. Rochester, who is indecent, conceited, and utterly unworthy of respect. He's a whore monger, a wife abuser, and a cruel, egotistical excuse for a man.

Rochester is rough around the edges, but not ill-intentioned. He is proud - not conceited. He made inexcusable mistakes as a young man, but learned from them. He is not a wife abuser. He is not cruel, and is described as a "kind, generous master."


By the way the Jane Austen novel which can be reasonably compared to "Jane Eyre" is "Mansfield Park".

Noted - will add that to my reading list.

[Ecurb]

Fair enough, Laura. I enjoyed reading "Jane Eyre" myself, and Rochester's attic may have been preferable to Bedlam(although I still don't see why Rochester kept his wife's existence a secret). Also, both authors were the daughters of Anglican clergymen. I wonder if Charlotte Bronte was mocking St. John's Puritanism (Austen was clearly mocking her cleric, Mr. Collins). I will continue to think that Rochester was, if not abusive, at least close to it. He tells Jane (while dressed as a gypsy) that he is going to marry Miss Ingram and later excuses his lie by saying he wanted to make her jealous. That's a minor sort of abusiveness.

If you didn't like "Pride and Prejudice", you probably wouldn't like Mansfield Park. Austen's style remains the same, although the circumstances of her heroine are close to Jane Eyre's.

Also, I don't think Rochester is thinking of himself when he uses his pet names for Jane. Instead, he is betraying his subconscious by choosing the names he does.

[mona amon]

Austen sets the reader up to believe that Darcy's flaw is his pride (characters complain of it), and Elizabeth's her prejudice. But the two are flip sides of the same coin. Elizabeth's prejudice is born out of her pride -- she herself suggests that she is proud of her perspicacity and quickness of judgment. Darcy's pride is a form of prejudice -- prejudice in favor of certain values and associations. So both protagonists are proud AND prejudiced, and their pride and prejudice are inseparable.

True. If Austen had stuck to her original plan and called the book First Impressions, we wouldn't be judging them like this and finding pride and prejudice everywhere we look. :)


You see, I never liked that idea. Have you heard the saying that people don't change for a marriage? I understand that nobody is perfect, but marriages should stand on the basis of accepting each others flaws, not on "changing" oneself like Darcy apparently did. If Darcy was snobby before marriage, he will stay that way. And remember that Elizabeth does not like the prideful side of Darcy - she only marries him after she thinks he changed.

Oh I don't think he changes all that much, and Elizabeth finds plenty to tease him about even after they are married. As Ecurb says, he wasn't so bad to begin with. The story is more about overcoming unfavourable first impressions and getting to know and accept each other. She marries him not so much because he has changed but because she has overcome her initial misperceptions, and now knows the real Darcy and loves him.


When Rochester calls Jane is "elf" or his "witch" his attempts at pet names betray his true nature as a narcissist and egomaniac. Is Jane Eyre a "witch" because she has "bewitched" Rochester?

Well, yes. :D I love it when he calls her elf, witch, sorceress, etc., - and Janet! It was at the point where he accuses her of bewitching his horse that I fell in love with the book. I was 10, and nobody ever talked like that in any book I'd read till then. I think Charlotte does a great job at creating this sizzling chemistry between them. They just scorch up every page they appear on together.


When she runs off after the "wedding" I lost all patience with her - I mean preferring death by exposure and starvation to an extra marital romp with her beloved Rocky ? C'mon.
Then she stumbles upon her cousins (oh really!) and finds she is rich (you're pulling my leg) and that "call" from Rochester (oh stop it now).

I wouldn't mind those plot twists if I was being sucessfully carried along -

It does sound ridiculous when this wildly unlikely plot is described, and evidently Charlotte thought so too. After reading some of the plot summaries in the reviews, she asked her publisher if "the analyses of other fictions read as absurdly as that of Jane Eyre always does." I feel she pulls it off with aplomb, but I guess it doesn't work for everyone.

[kiki1982]

I thought the last section was a bit weak for those reasons. I think it is fair enough for her to run away considering her mental state, but to stumble upon her cousins after roaming around at random. It would not be so bad if she decided to get off at that town because there was something about the town's name, like it had a familar ring to it, but that is not how it was written. The inheritance was rather fortunate too. I suppose the idea was to put her on an equivalent footing to Rochester, but it does not do her any credit. Her uncle was the successful merchant, not her. Then there was the telepathic cry for help.

You're right there, it's got a lot of the novels of Dumas and Hugo where a lot of fortunate coincidences happen. Particularly Dumas was very good at it, but I think Hugo gave him a good run for his money... It's indeed all too 'cheap' in a certain way, but OK, it had a lovely ending. TYhat's why we all like it. :)


Yes, Charlotte could've written a less incredible ending quite easily and kept the resolution as it is - so we have to assume she chose not to. Why???

To be really cruel and brutal, for all her merits as a writer, I think she wasn't as good as her younger sister Emily. Anne neither, now you come to mention it. They were both good word smiths (Anne the more pompous one), but they lacked the creativity that was necessary to make a good and credible story, that felt natural. I don't say that because I didn't enjoy Jane Eyre, I did tremendously and devoted several years to a love affair with Rochester because he's so real, but at the same time, the sections before Thornfield and after it are flawed to the extreme, I find. I like having those coincidences, but the reader should never become acutely aware of them (although admittedly that becomes harder the more of this stuff you have read).


I often wonder if Jane could have coped if Rochester's brother in law had turned up after her wedding night - could her faith and those unbending morals have coped ? Would Rochester end up with two wives in the Attic? A much better ending I think.

Or God forbid a year and a day later! Interesting point... A real woman might have run away and hoped nothing came of the wedding night... But I think Charlotte, as the good God-fearing Christian she was, didn't even consider that situation. In a sense it's a bit like a tragedy where the evil guy gets punished for his wrongdoings and another scenario never really comes into it.


Let's start with St. John. I honestly respect him. He is honest, hardworking, and devoted to his beliefs. Yes, he does have faults - he is a little to cold and unfeeling to be considered a "likable" character, but I would not call him cruel.

You're right that he is hardworking and honest, on a pittance at that. That's commendable. However, the way he kind of 'grooms' Jane (to use the word that's in vogue at the moment) and then tries to push her into a marriage with him (not taking 'no' for an answer almost), is really not on. It's as if he saw her, slumped at his door, then learned she was a teacher, gave her a job and a house with the idea of keeping her there to ingratiate himself and then pounce on her. That's probably not what Charlotte intended him to be, though, but the pressure he puts on Jane just before she hears that cry from Rochester is quite devious, i'd say. After all, what will become of her if he withdraws his good will from her?


And the dialogues in Pride and Prejudice? Yes, the dialogues are pretty elegant- (well-written by a talented writer, I'll admit) but do those dialogues really say or express much? I mean, sometimes I feel like they were more written to sound eloquent, rather really express something meaningful.

Yes, but that's pulling both things out of context. Rochester is different to Darcy for a start. Rochester started out more like a Bingley man: easy manners, likes having fun, etc. Darcy is the total opposite: he's quiet and shy (IMO, other readers would say he's aloof) and doesn't like big groups of people he doesn't know and who don't know him because he knows how he comes across. In a sense he's a bit like me.
Also, the conversation in the Victorian and Regency eras is totally different. Regency is contained at all times, puts a lot of emphasis on wit (saying what you think without doing it directly). I'm not sure when people actually did speak as we do, their minds (they must have done, surely), but definitely not in public. Emotional restraint was everything. Nothing should show. In Victorian times it slackened a bit. And not to forget, Rochester has decided 'to hell with the world', so he doesn't care. Darcy has defo not decided this.
Also remember that Rochester is speaking to his servant and trying to impress her like a lion with his roar. Darcy is talking to equals and is not trying to impress. The only time he does try, he doesn't do it through conversation, but through action. Miss Bingley regularly tries to impress with her wit, but Darcy is having none of it (indeed Lizzie is much better at it).


Teasing her: I would not consider that abusive - I always saw it as good-natured, and Jane does not seem to mind it
Torments her: When? I assume that you are referencing the time when he made her sit and watch him flirt with Miss Ingrim? I would not consider that "torment."
Sure, maybe it was not the best thing he could have done, but his intentions were not malicious - He was in love with Jane, and wished to see if she had any feelings for him. He, unlike readers like ourselves, had no idea of Jane's pain.
Threatening her: Once again, not one of his highlights.

Now, if you don't mind me saying, that's where you are totally wrong. Especially the playing with her feelings is not only wrong and despicable, but also an absolute no-no. Never ever ever should a Victorian gentleman make a lady/girl think he has feelings for her and then not follow up on them. Ingram wasn't only trying, Rochester encouraged her, or Ingram encouraged him (both did each other). He knew perfectly well that Jane took a shine to him and he set out for her to do so the moment he invited her into his presence with Mrs Fairfax (which is in my mind quite a singular thing to do; he should have left it with the first interview). He becomes more intimate with her, tells her about his daughter, which intimacy is inappropriate. And then he courts Ingram in front of her eyes? Knowing full well that Jane is upset, he tells her to sit there? It's not only cruel in our day and age, it's a total outrage at the time as well. A Victorian gentleman only becomes intimate with a woman (in terms of friendship) if he has honorable intentions. And if he wants to know a woman has feelings or not he speaks (as in proposes), he does not, under any circumstances, do what Rochester does.


But, this is who he is - a Byronic with flaws. Rochester is a passionate guy, both in times of happiness and times of desperation. However, I would like to note that he does not harm her - I honestly do not think he ever would. Is there any evidence in the book that would suggest otherwise? He lived with his mad, violent wife for 15 years, the bane of his happiness, but refused to strike or harm her in any way. Moreover, he had many opportunities to take his anger out on Mason, one of his "deceivers" in the whole operation, but did not. Rochester is not a violent guy, just very passionate.

Yes, OK, that's right too. The Byronic hero often hurts people out of sheer indifference.
Though Rochester's speech after the thwarted wedding where he says that he could crush her like a reed, I personally find quite frightening to be honest... But probably that was a hollow threat he didn't consider really following up on.

That said, he indeed didn't 'harm' his wife as such, but he could have chosen to care better for her. Most readers of Jane Eyre seem to think the treatment of the mad was necessarily terrible like Bedlam (which was for the poor in most cases), but this was definitely not the case. The early Victorians were optimistic people who had not been acquainted with Darwin yet and who genuinely believed they could cure lunacy, if only they found the right method. Admittedly they did purge and things in an attempt to do so, but things like occupational therapy and not tying people up, but calming them down instead, find their origins in these times. How does that compare with the room with no window and only a very sparse smoking light an unkempt Bertha is kept in. Victorians also believed in cleanliness and a good appearance, also for the mad (just look at pictures from asylums). He could have found and paid for far better care than he did, but then he wanted to forget her existence, didn't he?


And with Adele, yes I'll admit, I never liked his treatment of her. On one hand, though, she is most likely not his daughter - he certainly does not think she is - and yet he takes her in. Think about it, if your "girlfriend" cheated on you with someone else, had that person's child, and then presented you with the kid, how would that make you feel? I respect the fact that he took her in and gave her home, even though she was not his responsibility. However, in terms of his personal treatment of her, I do wish had been a little kinder to her. I understand if he still felt resentment for Adele's mother, but I don't think he should have projected some of that resentment onto Adele. Overall, he tempered a benevolent act with some negativity - not the worst thing in the world, we know he is not perfect.

Ah, but you see, essentially Rochester is a liar (at least before he changes). The mere fact that he takes Adèle in means he suspects, indeed even tacitly admits, she is his daughter. I agree, he tells Jane he is unsure, but then he's trying to come across as more honorable at that particular moment than he really is. It must be remembered that he knows he is talking to someone who has been raised with very puritanical values, is naïve and to whom people like Céline are harlots. By telling Jane Céline cheated on him, he exonerates himself a little and casts doubts in her mind as to whether he does have a bastard daughter or not. If he did tell her she was his, she would have drawn her conclusions about him straightaway and his game would have been up from the start. He expresses that when he asks her if she'll now look for another position, now she knows she's teaching the daughter of a dancer (or something along those lines). With that question, he is essentially looking whether his manipulation has worked. And it has.


In terms of sending her to boarding school, we do not know whether he was aware of them being good or bad. We do know, however, that Jane does not forget about Adele. Remember at the end when Jane found Adele's current school a bit too strict, and switched her into a more indulgent one?

I tend to agree with that. It had become quite fashionable to send girls to boarding school. Though maybe Adèle's school was one that was on the cheaper side (read: not necessary to spend a lot of money one her...). We will never know.


However, Rochester is also romantic, passionate, strong, protective, and slightly vulnerable.

Slightly? I see him as a deeply hurt man who has turned narcissistic to protect himself from any more. I think deep inside he's terribly lonely and just wants to be loved. Though at first he goes about it in the wrong way and then, when his lie is exposed, he expects everyone to say 'there, there'. Maybe that's where his ideas have become skewed through the years.


Fair enough, Laura. I enjoyed reading "Jane Eyre" myself, and Rochester's attic may have been preferable to Bedlam(although I still don't see why Rochester kept his wife's existence a secret).

Preferable to Bedlam yes, but then there were lots of places that were far better than Bedlam.
Rochester's keeping his marriage a secret is facilitated from the beginning by his own family who are embarrassed and just don't publish the marriage in the newspaper. At the point where his brother Rowland and father have died, there are presumably no people left who know about it, and he 'rolls' into that evil situation of bigamy, so to say. Granted when he locked her up at Thornfield, I suppose Mrs Fairfax knew. In my mind that's why she cautions Jane several times without really saying why. I think she knows but can't say, either out of pity for Rochester or out of fear, I'm torn between those two. Other than that, though, there was no-one to tell him 'no' and he kind of gets used to the lie. Some bigamists just don't dare to get rid of a partner or so. They don't really set out to look for a second wife, they just don't know how to get out of a relationship and eventually they end up in front of the altar. It's weird. Even in this day and age there are bigamists like this, even with two happy relationships. Rochester I suspect didn't set out to look for a second marriage (as he says himself), but he rolls into it with Jane because she doesn't know about his wife up there in the attic. His emotional torment about this, IMO, comes to the fore in the fire in his bed which weirdly coincides with the full moon.


Also, I don't think Rochester is thinking of himself when he uses his pet names for Jane. Instead, he is betraying his subconscious by choosing the names he does.

Indeed, I think so too. On one level, he fancies himself a kind of God/supernatural being (backed up by Jane's thought just before the wedding that she was losing track of God because Rochester was there).

[Laura Clarke]

Hmm Prendrelemick... seems like a lot of people agreed with you on this one...


That's fair enough. I have a similar problem with Jane, the woman has no faults! she's so perfect she makes you sick. When she runs off after the "wedding" I lost all patience with her - I mean preferring death by exposure and starvation to an extra marital romp with her beloved Rocky ? C'mon.

Jane is nowhere near perfect. She is small, plain, and child-like in appearance. She has a fiery personality and is passionate - do not mistake her for Helen Burns. She has plenty of faults.

And running off after the wedding? That does not make her "sickeningly perfect," that makes her admirable. Jane has by no means an easy life. As a child, she is abused by her cousins and aunt. She is later starved at a boarding school and watches her best friend die beside her. When she finally falls in love with Rochester, and we think she'll finally get her happy ending, even he hurts her by deceiving her. Jane is ultimately tested when given the choice between righteousness and suffering vs immorality and happiness - and struggles to make the right decision. Even after doing so, she often yearns that she had been weak and given into temptation. Trust me, she's human, but strong.


Then she stumbles upon her cousins (oh really!) and finds she is rich (you're pulling my leg) and that "call" from Rochester (oh stop it now).

Okay, so meeting her cousins was a pretty lucky thing when you look at Mary and Elizabeth, but what about St. John? I mean, sure he saves her life and all that, but its not that makes her life any easier. In fact, he is actually pretty mean to Jane as he pressures her to marry him (remember his "bible passage" that basically said that if you don't devote yourself to God you go to Hell?) and seems to like controlling her - I would not call that paradise on Jane's part. St. John is the cause of Jane's second major decision in the novel - don't we all breathe out a sigh of relief when Jane finally escapes him?

Becoming rich? Yes, I'll admit that's pretty lucky. But I thought that it added to novel in that it truly emphasizes the depth of Jane's love for Rochester. I mean, here she is, rich, young, and independent, returning to and older, crippled, blind man. I honestly think that the novel would be considerably weaker of this had not happened - it shows that Jane returns for nothing but love (imagine if Jane returned to Rochester, poor and dependent on him. One could question whether she was returning because she had no other choice).

It also, I think, beautifully reverses the original situation. Earlier in the book, Rochester was the man - rich, overbearing, and proud, and had Miss Ingrim pretty much begging him to marry her. In contrast, Jane was weak, poor, and his employee. Jane's love for Rochester is understandable, but Rochester's truly showed depth. However, at the end, they switch places: Jane returns rich and invigorated, while Rochester is broken and helpless. In this case, Jane is the superior in the situation, and yet she still loves him unconditionally. Jane and Rochester's mutual love for one another remains unchanged, regardless of the circumstance.

Lastly, the "supernatural call." Alright, maybe I'm stretching this one, but I thought that this added to the novel as well. Yes, its unrealistic, but be honest, how could one not love that part? Also, remember the situation she is returning to - a blind, older, crippled man who lied to her. Not exactly a Prince Charming calling her. Rochester is by no means perfect, so I would not roll my eyes at this ending - it is happily "bittersweet," which makes it more real.


Or God forbid a year and a day later! Interesting point... A real woman might have run away and hoped nothing came of the wedding night... But I think Charlotte, as the good God-fearing Christian she was, didn't even consider that situation.

I agree completly, Kiki.

I can't imagine if either of those situations had happened. Jeez, Prendrelemick, you trying to scare me? :)

[prendrelemick]

Oh don't take any notice of me, I'll admit I've been playing devils advocate a bit, I do rate Jane Eyre and recently heard she was a new kind of heroine for that age, in that she stood up for herself (and for womankind) like no other before her. The school was based on a real School for Clergymen's Daughters, that did have a high mortality rate - basically because they weren't fed enough. The saintly Helen was based on one of her sisters who died in Childhood, as usual I can't remember details but Charlotte was adamant that it was an accurate portrayal. This is the sort of stuff that adds poignancy to the story.

That said, I still think Pride and Prejudice is better. In fact it is as perfect a book as I have ever read.

[kiki1982]

Oh don't take any notice of me, I'll admit I've been playing devils advocate a bit, I do rate Jane Eyre and recently heard she was a new kind of heroine for that age, in that she stood up for herself (and for womankind) like no other before her. The school was based on a real School for Clergymen's Daughters, that did have a high mortality rate - basically because they weren't fed enough. The saintly Helen was based on one of her sisters who died in Childhood, as usual I can't remember details but Charlotte was adamant that it was an accurate portrayal. This is the sort of stuff that adds poignancy to the story.

That said, I still think Pride and Prejudice is better. In fact it is as perfect a book as I have ever read.

Yes, OK, I'll admit that Jane herself is kind of new as a heroine. She's no Clarissa at any rate who is a bit easily led and too good to be true. And I also admit some of Jane's story was based on things that really happened, but still I'd say that Charlotte tried very hard, but didn't make the entire corpus of her knowledge into a really creative piece of lit (unlike her sister Emily). Though maybe it needs to be said that she was still developing as a writer. Who knows what she would have become if she had lived to a ripe old age and continued writing?

If you compare Jane Eyre to P&P and all of Austen's other novels, they are much more sophisticated as lit than JE, if a bit short on symbolism, although I think Austen tried her hand at some of it in Mansfield Park, but that IMO was a bit serious for her. She's best when she talks people. Austen at her age was much more a developed author than Charlotte Brontë. She knew what she wanted and how to do it. Charlotte still had a way to go, IMO.

[Jackson Richardson]

Clarissa easily lead? She spends the first 600 pages resisting her family and the rest of the book resisting Lovelace. I agree she is a bit too good to be true.

And Rochester may be a rotter, as Ecurb rightly says, but as the fascination with Lovelace shows, rotters can be dead sexy.

[kiki1982]

Clarissa easily lead? She spends the first 600 pages resisting her family and the rest of the book resisting Lovelace. I agree she is a bit too good to be true.

And Rochester may be a rotter, as Ecurb rightly says, but as the fascination with Lovelace shows, rotters can be dead sexy.

Yes, Clarissa spends the first 600 pages defying her family, but that makes her headstrong, not less naïve. The way Lovelace lures her is quite disgusting and the way she believes his lies is even more infuriating. To be honest, her family didn't really give Lovelace a chance and that's not fair. Despite his past and the fact that it's difficult to believe someone could change 180°, he seems genuine in his intentions, though I admit I haven't finished the book, due to eyesight problems. I need to download it on my Kindle. I'm led to believe that eventually does what he does out of sheer frustration.
That said the fact that Clarissa does what she does on that fateful evening might have everything to do with her sheltered life (if you don't have the experience, you can hardly have learnt from it). It's exactly what happens to Jane in the face of Rochester's manipulation. Mrs Fairfax knows it, but Jane is completely blind. And Rochester knows it and uses it.

But I agree, rotters are terribly sexy. :p

[Ecurb]

But I agree, rotters are terribly sexy. :p

Now you tell me! If only I'd known when I was younger, I would have performed rotten deeds more often!

I'm reading "Dr Wortle's School" by Anthony Trollope right now. I mention this only because the plot revolves around bigamy, just as it does in Jane Eyre, but the bigamists are not rotters. It's possible to be an honorable bigamist, apparently, although Mr. Rochester would not have qualified.

[Jackson Richardson]

I've started Mansfield Park. I'mm not sure of the analogy with Jane Eyre. Who's Rochester? Henry Crawford strikes me as too much of charmer.

[prendrelemick]

I too think it's a bit Jane Eyrey - probably because both the heroines have that same miserable sacrificial demeanor. They are both martyrs to the ideal of, what became known as, Victorian morality.

[kiki1982]

Now you tell me! If only I'd known when I was younger, I would have performed rotten deeds more often!

I'm reading "Dr Wortle's School" by Anthony Trollope right now. I mention this only because the plot revolves around bigamy, just as it does in Jane Eyre, but the bigamists are not rotters. It's possible to be an honorable bigamist, apparently, although Mr. Rochester would not have qualified.

Yes, but that sexiness only applies when it's not for real :p. I'm not sure whether I'd like to submit to that in reality...
Women are fickle, aren't they ;).

Seems an interesting plot... Rochester also presses the point that he deserves a second chance, because he has been tricked into a marriage with a wife whom he can't get rid of. It's a valid point. The problem in this case is that he can't divorce her, because even if she did commit adultery with another man (he alludes to this), which was the only means for a man to get rid of his wife at the time, this would, paradoxically, still not be a ground for divorce in this case, as Bertha was declared mad before he could petition for divorce and therefore is considered non-compus mentis. In essence she is not considered to be responsible for her actions and thus she cannot be accused of adultery. That's quite sad, because not only is he saddled with an abusive wife, he cannot solve his problem either because the law forbids him. So he is faced with the lonely existence of a bachelor without the prospect of a wife and children (so idealised in Victorian society), until Bertha decides to die of her own accord.

I don't think his mere attempt at bigamy makes him a rotter. After all the priest and the lawyer clearly have some kind of sympathy for it. They do try and argue their case, but it is plain that faced with Bertha and the reality of Rochester's existence and chances of happiness, they are kind of taken aback by their own argument. However, where Rochester does become a real rotter in Victorian eyes is that (apart from not really attempting to care all that well for his 'former' wife) he has had a string of mistresses, a child out of wedlock, and to top it all off, he tries to trick Jane into a marriage.
From Wikipedia, I gather the Peacockes' situation differs where they get married in the mistaken belief that she is a widow, but after their mistake has been revealed they decide to carry on the 'marriage' nonetheless. Rochester never tells Jane that he's got a mad wife, but that he'd like to marry her and be her husband. He makes that pledge under false pretenses. Which makes him untrustworthy. I mean, he can say 'but I truly love you and I won't leave you, ever, as long as I live' all he likes after his lie has been exposed, but if he was prepared to lure her into a bigamous marriage without taking her into his confidence about his terrible problem, then why should she be prepared to trust him in what will be for her a precarious situation?
Hardy also expressed ideas about bigamy in Jude the Obscure where he didn't see any problem with it either, I don't think. Just because those characters got married without really considering too much that it wa until either of them died, doesn't mean they should stay unhappily together. I think that was probably a reality for many people.


I've started Mansfield Park. I'mm not sure of the analogy with Jane Eyre. Who's Rochester? Henry Crawford strikes me as too much of charmer.


I too think it's a bit Jane Eyrey - probably because both the heroines have that same miserable sacrificial demeanor. They are both martyrs to the ideal of, what became known as, Victorian morality.

I see what they mean though. Fanny is also a bit of a goodie... Unless you know the plot already, we won't talk about it. But you'll see how Crawford fits into that picture, although admittedly it's less pronounced.

[Jackson Richardson]

I have read it at least twice already and I know the plot. I still don't think Henry is anything like the brooding Mr Rochester. He's a charmer - and unusually in Jane Austen not good looking.

[Ecurb]

OK, there's no Rochester in Mansfield Park. The similarities are that small, unloved heroines go to live with their aunts and uncles. MP is Austen's only novel that begins with the heroine as a young girl (if we discount the humorous introduction in Northanger Abbey, in which baseball is mentioned). Also, there's a Caribbean connection in both novels. Sir Thomas has economic interests in Antigua (which, we assume, involve a plantation using slave labor). The similarity is mainly with the situation and character of the heroine, though.

[Jackson Richardson]

I haven't read Jane Eyre for some time and given Ecurb's criticism of the heroine I am not likely to do so. But I'm not convinced the two heroines are that similar in character. In situation they are both dependents in a big house.

Presumably the similarity between Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice is that Rochester and Darcy both seem to have the same sexual attraction for a certain type. I'm gay for goodness sake and can find a man fanciable, but both of them leave me cold. (As do Heathcliff and Lovelace, the ****.) Henry Crawford though could flutter my heart.

[mona amon]

I'd have liked Mansfield Park much better if Fanny had married Henry Crawford and Edmond had married Mary Crawford. But the sanctimonious duo end up with each other not because of active pursuit but because everyone else has spent themselves out living life impulsively and passionately.

I don't think Henry Crawford is like Mr. Rochester but there is a point of similarity - they are both men of questionable moral character who are charmed by pure and virtuous women.

Jane Eyre however is nothing at all like Fanny. Fanny is quiet, passive and judgmental. Jane too is a little judgmental, but just the opposite of quiet and passive. She's a firebrand and a rebel. Look at this abused orphan at the age of ten, "John thrust his tongue in his cheek whenever he saw me, and once attempted chastisement; but as I instantly turned against him, roused by the same sentiment of deep ire and desperate revolt which had stirred my corruption before, he thought it better to desist, and ran from me tittering execrations, and vowing I had burst his nose. I had indeed leveled at that prominent feature as hard a blow as my knuckles could inflict; and when I saw that either that or my look daunted him, I had the greatest inclination to follow up my advantage to purpose; but he was already with his mama." Go Jane!

Maybe I do not remember Fanny properly and am misjudging her, but Jane Eyre I can vouch for - I've read it so many times I think I know the book by heart. :)

[Ecurb]

I'd have liked Mansfield Park much better if Fanny had married Henry Crawford and Edmond had married Mary Crawford. But the sanctimonious duo end up with each other not because of active pursuit but because everyone else has spent themselves out living life impulsively and passionately.

:)

Fanny Price and Henry Crawford would have been a match made in hell.

Like Northanger Abbey (Austen's other novel named after an estate), Mansfield Park is a parody of standard literary forms. However, it is more mature and subtle than Northanger Abbey (not to knock N.A., which is hilarious, and was written when Austen was not yet one and twenty).

In the standard romance, the hero goes out into the wide world to seek his fortune. In MP, Fanny Price wants nothing more than to stay home (at her adopted home of MP).

Although Henry Crawford is the villain of the piece, he is set up to resonate as the hero. Austen introduces him as follows: "“To anything like a permanence of abode, or limitation of society, Henry Crawford had, unluckily, a great dislike……” Why, the reader wonders, are Henry's heroic preferences "unlucky"? One possible reason: they are precisely the opposite of Fanny's preferences. Fanny is unadventurous and unsociable. A more unfortunate match can scarcely be imagined.

In an early scene in which Henry Crawford appears, Austen sets up the conflict around which the novel revolves. Mrs. Grant and Mary Crawford are talking about the surprises matrimony may bring: “You are as bad as your brother, Mary; but we will cure you both. Mansfield shall cure you both, and without any taking in. Stay with us, and we will cure you.”

Will the Crawfords change Mansfield (which is Fanny's Eden)? Or will Mansfield change the Crawfords? The whole shebang about the play, -- in which the participants actually DO change Mansfield by turning one of the rooms into a theater -- symbolizes this conflict.

Like Jane Eyre, Fanny Price is an abandoned child, searching for a home. Fanny has neither the spunk nor the physical courage of Miss Eyre, but her quest is no less poignant, and far more realistic. Fanny is a shrewd moral observer, when it comes to the Crawfords, or her own parents, or (even) Tom. But she (as is the case with Austen's other heroines) is blinded by her affections and desires for a home.

Here Fanny and Edmund ride back to Mansfield from her parents' house in Portsmouth:


“They were in the environs of Mansfield long before the usual dinner-time, and as they approached the beloved place…..her pleasures were of the keenest sort. It was three months, full three months, since her quitting it, and the change was from winter to summer. Her eye fell everywhere on lawns and plantations of the freshest green; and the trees, though not fully clothed, were in that delightful state when farther beauty is known to be at hand, and when, while much is actually given to the sight, more yet remains for the imagination. ”

Clearly, Mansfield is an Eden to Fanny, despite being funded by slave labor in Antigua, and being ruled by an unloving and dictatorial Sir Thomas. But Fanny wants nothing more than the approbation of Sir Thomas, despite the fact that his failings as a father are clear, and he never really loves Maria or Julia.

At the end of the book, Sir Thomas exiles Maria, and learns to love Fanny. "Fanny was indeed the daughter that he (Sir Thomas) wanted. His charitable kindness had been rearing a prime comfort for himself..." Sir Thomas, of course, lacks "charity". His kindness did provide him with a prime comfort, but charity (St. Paul tells us) "never faileth". In fact, St. Paul claims that charity "beareth all things" and "endureth all things" (presumably even such horrors as adultery). It is Mary Crawford (whom Edmund wishes had felt "modest loathings" at her brother's adultery) who wants what is best for her brother -- and even for Maria -- not Edmund, and not Sir Thomas. It is Mary Crawford whose love "never faileth". Sir Thomas' "charitable kindness" (is the word, so familiar from the King James Bible, chosen at random?) turns out to be merely "rearing a prime comfort for himself".

I don't blame Fanny for any of this, though. She is never more admirable than when she faces Sir Thomas's demands that she marry Henry Crawford, and simply says, "I - I cannot like him, sir, well enough to marry him." However well we readers might like Henry Crawford, Fanny is correct and honorable in refusing him.

[Jackson Richardson]

Fanny loves Edmund because from when she was a child, he was the only person in the house who treated her with consideration as a person in her own right. If that is to be self righteous prig, then the world needs more of them.

She has seen Henry playing off Maria and Julia while ignoring her. Not surprisingly, she is not likely to be impressed when he tries to woo her having up to then ignored her.

[Diggory Venn]

I would like to add this to the discussion if I may be so bold (and a bit mischievous) ?

Can preferring one to the other, (Austen Vs Bronte, Jane Vs Elizabeth) be a Class thing, or indeed a North/South divide question ? I am from the North of England and working class - I much prefer the Bronte`s works to Jane Austen`s. I am not suggesting that it IS a class thing, but I wonder, is there something going on which subconsciously makes me feel this way ? :crazy: Does anyone else think this way ?

[prendrelemick]

I'm a northerner and live in Bronte country, but I much prefer Austen. I see what you mean though about the class thing, you often find scornful comments of Austen's own narrow and privileged situation, and that of her heroines. A bit unfair I think, the Brontes were not exactly working class - nor were their subjects. Austen does appear more genteel, but she has a steely edge she barely keeps sheathed.

But your question was about the reader - I'll have to think about that.

[Jackson Richardson]

Tam Lin has an interesting point, but the difference is not primarily class or geography, to my mind. Both heroines marry landed gentleman and the books are set in the same social milieu. I don’t think the geographical setting is significant.

E P Thomson in The History of the Working Class spends some time discussing the Bronte’s political sympathies, which were Tory. Apparently in Charlotte’s Shirley the working class agitators are regarded in a hostile light.

The difference between Austen and C Bronte I’d suggest is personality. But I’ll post about that later.

[prendrelemick]

Without any evidence at all, apart from the tone of her book, I feel that Anne was a Liberal and was disaproved of by Charlotte.

[prendrelemick]

Fanny loves Edmund because from when she was a child, he was the only person in the house who treated her with consideration as a person in her own right. If that is to be self righteous prig, then the world needs more of them.

She has seen Henry playing off Maria and Julia while ignoring her. Not surprisingly, she is not likely to be impressed when he tries to woo her having up to then ignored her.

That was teenage me, couldn't talk to any girl I fancied.

[Jackson Richardson]

I don't think Henry ever has any problem talking to anyone he wants. He didn't talk to Fanny because he was amusing himself with Maria.

[Jackson Richardson]

My theory about the difference between the two authors can look like the class/north/south thing for reasons of their personality.

Jane Austen with her awareness of social distinctions and concern for appropriate social behaviour can appeal to snobs or at least the stereotype of the effete Southern middle class.

Jane Eyre’s feistiness and refusal to fit in could well appeal to the stereotype of Northern combative working class.

[Ecurb]

Edmund is a kind teenager; he is seldom as attractive as when he helps Fanny write the letter to her brother. All credit to him.

Fanny's secret love for Edmund protects her from Henry Crawford. Who knows if she would have been as judgmental about his behavior had her heart been unprotected? Some readers see Fanny as an astute, impartial observer. I see her as more like Austen's other heroines -- influenced by her own prejudices and desires.

Charlotte Bronte and Jane Austen were both the daughters of impecunious clergymen. Charlotte married in her late 30s, and died soon after of runaway morning sickness. Jane died of (probably) Addison's disease. They were both 39 (I think) when they died. So they were both the single (for most of their adult lives) daughters of relatively poor clergy.

The Bronte family met tragic ends: only Charlotte lived to see 31. Austen's siblings were more successful financially (and in terms of their health); one of Austen's brothers rose to the rank of Admiral in the British navy. Economically, England was changing from a rural, Regency society (for Austen) to a more financially diverse society (for Bronte), so class consciousness was changing as well. Nonetheless, Elizabeth Bennet would have been almost as impoverished as Jane Eyre, once her father died, if she hadn't found a husband. We are invited to scoff at Mrs. Bennet's husband hunting, but what loving mother would do otherwise?

Clergymen, however, were "gentlemen" in both societies, however rich or poor they might be. A pound might have been worth $100 in Austen's days (and slightly less in Bronte's), based on today's American money. So Darcy's 10,000 ponds a year was equivalent to $1,000,000 a year. There can be no direct comparisons, however, because goods were relatively expensive, and labor and food (servants, etc.) very cheap. I remember in some Victorian novels a good horse might cost between 50 and 100 pounds, which is almost as much as a decent (used) car today.

[prendrelemick]

Fanny's secret love for Edmund protects her from Henry Crawford. Who knows if she would have been as judgmental about his behavior had her heart been unprotected? Some readers see Fanny as an astute, impartial observer. I see her as more like Austen's other heroines -- influenced by her own prejudices and desires.



I have only read it a couple of times, and some time ago, but I think Fanny is simply wrong for today's reader. We like our heroines assertive and sexy, like Emma for instance - which is ironic because Austen said with Emma she created a heroine no one would like. As I remember Fanny gets her desires by waiting patiently and doing nothing to promote them. She is never active on her own behalf, she is completely selfless. Its an overtly christian moral tale, she knows her place, she waits and waits she is good, then everything falls into place for her. it's unsatisfying.

[Jackson Richardson]

I have to say that I identify with Fanny far more than Lizzie or Emma. But that says something about me.

[Ecurb]

Elizabeth Bennet is the World's darling (and with good reason), and Emma shares her active nature, pride, and intelligence. Catherine Morland has a heart of pure gold (and transparency). Fanny is quiet, observant, and little used to expressing her firmly held opinions. In this sense, she is like Anne Eliot. But everyone loves Anne. When she goes out to her sister's in-laws, everyone wants to talk to her. When she visits Lyme, Benwick and Mr. Eliot are instantly attracted to her. Although she is (at home) almost as quiet and disregarded as Fanny, she has a genuine desire to please others. She plays the piano for hours so that her beloved Captain Wentworth can dance with Henrietta and Louisa Musgrove. I can't imagine Fanny doing that -- she would go to her room with a headache.

Fanny is a bit of a prim spoilsport -- not so bad that we must dislike her for it, but the contrast with Anne makes it clear. Perhaps when she reaches Anne's age, after several years of happy marriage, she will develop some of Anne's quiet social confidence.

p.s. What's wrong with putting on a play? I'll grant that the shenanigans surrounding the play at Mansfield were unseemly, but we know that the Austen family put on family theatricals regularly when Jane was a girl. What is Austen getting at here? Is she opposing what we moderns would call "role playing"? Does it symbolize the Crawford's battle to either change Mansfield or be changed by it?

[Jackson Richardson]

That the play is so obviously inappropriate to Edmund, Fanny and Sir Thomas is the hardest thing to take about the book (as well as the Bertram's financial security being built on the slave trade.)

That is far more of a difficulty for me than the character of Fanny.

[prendrelemick]

Actresses were still not quite respectable, (and only middle class at best), the play they chose was a bit risque' - and they knew it - all that holding hands and declaring love! They were being thrilled by their own daring and sophistication.

But it needn't have been a play I suppose. The play is a device to illustrate the corruption being brought upon the family home by the Crawfords. Even Fanny and Edmund are incrementally persuaded to join in by peer pressure from their glamorous friends. Also the whole project was on the edge of chaos, a kind of anarchy preveiled because rules and conventions were being broken.

They all knew they were being "naughty" while Sir Thomas was away - as we can see by the guilty scurrying about that went on when he returned.

[Jackson Richardson]

We really ought to have a Mansfield Park thread. I'll start one.

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?82972-Mansfield-Park-love-it-or-loathe-it&p=1306440#post1306440

[kiki1982]

Two days ago I typed a whole thing about simimlarities between Henry Crawford and Rochester and then it got deleted :


Charlotte Bronte and Jane Austen were both the daughters of impecunious clergymen. Charlotte married in her late 30s, and died soon after of runaway morning sickness. Jane died of (probably) Addison's disease. They were both 39 (I think) when they died. So they were both the single (for most of their adult lives) daughters of relatively poor clergy.

The Bronte family met tragic ends: only Charlotte lived to see 31. Austen's siblings were more successful financially (and in terms of their health); one of Austen's brothers rose to the rank of Admiral in the British navy. Economically, England was changing from a rural, Regency society (for Austen) to a more financially diverse society (for Bronte), so class consciousness was changing as well. Nonetheless, Elizabeth Bennet would have been almost as impoverished as Jane Eyre, once her father died, if she hadn't found a husband. We are invited to scoff at Mrs. Bennet's husband hunting, but what loving mother would do otherwise?

Clergymen, however, were "gentlemen" in both societies, however rich or poor they might be. A pound might have been worth $100 in Austen's days (and slightly less in Bronte's), based on today's American money. So Darcy's 10,000 ponds a year was equivalent to $1,000,000 a year. There can be no direct comparisons, however, because goods were relatively expensive, and labor and food (servants, etc.) very cheap. I remember in some Victorian novels a good horse might cost between 50 and 100 pounds, which is almost as much as a decent (used) car today.

Actually Trollope touches upon that in Framley Parsonage. The regime that had been in place to pay clergymen was tithes from the congregation. Obviously it was kind of fair when it was set up, but things got more and more distorted with clergymen in places like modern-day Kensington getting loads while others who were put into a poor congregation faced with poverty. For the same work, or more (depending on their diligence). Patrick Brontë was obviously one of the poor guys. I think he lived on about £200 per annum, plus something maybe for the fact that he was perpetual curate). He paid his curate Nicholls (whom Charlotte married in the end, after the final blessing of her father) £50.

However, as wages were not indexed, Austen's father lived on more or less the same, but as Sense and Sensibility makes plain, even £200 per annum was quite decent. OK, you couldn't keep a carriage and everything, but you could live reasonably decently (with a very young servant girl) if you were careful. There were lots of working-class people and families who lived on much less.

If you index by the retail index, Darcy is indeed a millionaire, but if you index in comparison with wages, the result is even starker. Then he's a millionaire several times over. Just to give an idea: Bertha's £30,000 dowry, would have been the equivalent (in 1847, the year of publication of JE) £2,500,000, and actually we should remember that this would have been even higher as it was around 1820 that Rochester got the money.

I think by the time we reach Brontë's era, the class divide between clergy also becomes bigger. By the time we've reached Trollope's 1860s, the difference between the poor curate Crawley in his poor parish and the rich and fortunate Mark Robarts is so bad, Crawley is, though not overtly, treated like a standard case of poverty (with charity food parcels and everything). The idea that he would have been a gentleman nonetheless is far less present than in Austen's day, though that's maybe because Crawley can't even afford shoes for his children, whereas clergymen in Austen's day definitely still could.

The same £200 budget:

1820:
commodities index £14,280
wages index £807,500

1847:
CI £16,320
WI £578,800

1860:
CI £16,780
WI £460,300

That's an interesting thing to think about though...

[petaflop]

Laura, I have been Team Rochester since the book's age was still expressed in 2 digits, and my efforts to lighten up and cut Darcy some slack are ongoing.

[Laura Clarke]

Yes, someone who gets it! I don't think I'll ever understand how one could prefer Darcy over Rochester... or even prefer Darcy at all...