Share your favorite part of Jane Eyre below. :piggy:
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Share your favorite part of Jane Eyre below. :piggy:
I just started reading Jane Eyre yesterday, but I'll let you know.
First, I have to say Jane Eyre has become one of my all-time favorite characters.
My favorite part of the story is young Jane's confrontation with her aunt just before she goes off to school.
I have a theory that every girl who has read the book, wants to be Jane Eyre
Guilty as charged. I first read JE at age 14 and I am now the age that Jane is through most of the novel. (Arithmetic, you see, is useful.) In many ways it changed me as a reader and a person (with its subtle sensuality, pervading intertexuality, and rebellious feminism). I've read it at least once a year since that first time, always with greater fascination.
Jane Eyre is a part of who I am as a reader (and would-be academic/scholar) as a feminist, as a Christian and as an individual. It has shaped my thoughts, my feelings and my tastes. Its mighty sentences surge through my blood, sometimes chilling it, sometimes warming it until it tingles and thrills my whole frame. I suppose more than any other novel, I think of its characters as though they were real, yet it also first introduced me to intertexuality, pastiche and feminist criticism. I think it an inexhaustible store of literary themes, yet I turn to it as the best of “comfort reading”. “It runs in my blood, blends with my brains and seasons the marrow of my bones.”
I don't actually consider JE a perfect novel (whatever that could possibly mean). As a Janeite I find its Romanticism disturbing, and as George Eliot reader I find Jane's quick dismissals of other people's worth grating.
But, like Jane with Mr Rochester, "while I breathe and think, I must love" this novel.
aah, that's a really nice post! :seeya:
I'll confess :ciappa:, not obsessed with Jane, but with Rochester! After reading it years ago, I still get gooey thinking about him. And I get quite upset if peolple get him wrong. I don't know, it's just, he (and the rest of all those characters) are so very real. Despite her sister Emily's merits in her only work, I would go for the all time favorite Jane Eyre. The energy just splatters you when you read it, certainly in that Rochester section. How a woman who admittedly had had a few suitors (they all fell in love with her apparently, one even proposed to her after one afternoon's acquaintance!), but otherwise did not know an awful lot of people and did not have the chance to observe them en masse where she lived, could draw people so well and so multi-faceted, it is mind boggling.
Anyway, I'm sure Rochester would have loved that (and see, he becomes someone with an opinion) :ladysman:.
Ah, well I'm in love with Rochester too. His conversation is so piquant that I'm sure he's spoiled me for the conversation of any other male. (Except maybe Henry Tilney's.) I love the fact that he talks like a sphinx.
But if he was real (ugh, that sounds nutty... :rolleyes: Start again.) Last time I reread JE I was very disturbed by his "curious, designing mind" and the fact that in their second interview he's already forming his plans to "get pleasure" out of Jane and marry her as a form of expiation.
Remember, the shadows are just as important as the light
Yes, I do have to say, Tilney is also very charming. Though, I think, to be as inexplicably attractive (however strange and a little stupid that may be) you need to be Rochester. Indeed, his conversation is so piquant that it is scary. and I join you in my apprehensiveness that he indeed has taken his decision already beforehand. I think he has just fallen madly in love at that point already, is trying to fight it, doesn't succeed and is thrown from yes to no constantly. On the one side he is devious, on the other he is desperate. He has not told his governess that there is madwoman who is his wife up in the attic and he can't tell her now because she'll never trust him again. It would have been easier to tell her if he wasn't madly in love... (doesn't he mention during their discussion after the thwarted wedding that he actually spied on her the morning after, I think during that moment that she was thinking of Heidelberg)Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
Although I think I would stay well away from such a man if he was real. (let's be nutty for once :D), but as he is not, he's safe to be in love with :).
Every time I think about the versatility of that character it surpises me that he was created by a woman who had only known a few men in her life, been madly in love with one and didn't even notice the feelings of her later husband. She herself was apparently awfully charming, but surely she didn't know that?
Yes, and in their discussion after the thwarted wedding he tells her that his purpose in traveling Europe (after taking Bertha to Thornfield) was to find a woman he could love, his "ideal of a woman". He does this because he sees his own character as tainted and defiled by his union with Bertha. He calls Jane the "instrument of [his] cure" and when he proposes to her he declares that "it [this marriage to a pure, but poor woman] will atone." In short, this marriage, like his care for Adelle, works "rather on the Roman Catholic principle of expiat[ion]".Quote:
Originally Posted by kiki1982
(This also reminds me of something disturbing in Austen's Emma. The charade beginning "Kitty, a fair but frozen maid" is mentioned, but what is not generally known is that it referred to venereal disease. Tragically, some believed that the way to be cured of this was through intercourse with a young virgin - often a child. I am not at all accusing Mr Rochester of this. I just see a metaphorical parallel in his strong belief that a second marriage will secure him "peace of mind and regeneration of life". I suspect him of a belief that "without the shedding of [virgin] blood there is no remission". (Hebrews 9:22) However, while the text is proved correct in the plot, his interpretation is wrong, since it is his blood and Bertha's that be shed. [I'm still not sure about the last part of this hypothesis, since it seems to contradict the redemption theme. )
Ultimately Jane Eyre is an intensely (although unorthadoxly) Christian novel, with a theme of redemption. Mr Rochester ultimately comes to accept Jane's autonomy from his version of her and that he should "look higher than his equals for strength to amend and solace to heal." And, yes, he falls madly in love with her at some point, but until after she leaves his love is still intertwined with his own agenda, which he starts formulating the very first day after seeing her.
In the penultimate chapter Mr Rochester puts Jane off his knee to stand in humility and penitence, acknowledging the sovereignty of God, even over his greatest desires.
:iagree: It's just that I'm slightly ashamed of being madly in love with a fictional character, because some women make themselves so ridiculous over fictional characters.Quote:
Although I think I would stay well away from such a man if he was real. (let's be nutty for once :D), but as he is not, he's safe to be in love with :).
Absolutely! So all of the above is not criticism of the novel - because it shows how complex the character and novel are.Quote:
Every time I think about the versatility of that character it surpises me that he was created by a woman who had only known a few men in her life, been madly in love with one and didn't even notice the feelings of her later husband.
So after a mad week of French technical translation, I have now time to reply, FINALLY.
Now that is an interesting approach! It has been argued by at least one daft person that Rochester was afflicted by syphilis which his promiscuous wife gave to him. That would also have been cured (allegedly) by a virgin's blood. That is still believed in South Africa too as a cure for AIDS, resulting in horrible baby rapes... :eek: However, I cannot agree with the syphilis theory as Rochester would have been mad after 20 years and the end of Jane Eyre would not have seen bliss and a son, but total unhappiness.Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
But in figurative terms it is an interesting theory. He has indeed his own agenda and his love is not selfless as it should be but selfish. He wishes to be in control and be the centre of attention. It is very poignant that he gives away his hand, let himself be led and gives his watch away. The latter is reminiscent of the end of the shopping trip where he says he will attach Jane to a chain like that of his gold watch. As it is in the Conclusion maybe the chain with the watch will stretch to Jane forever and he will be the one attached. The same image also reminds of his question about the little cord under his heart (during the first proposal). It's quite a nice image. It evokes him giving away any control he had and abandoning himself to her. Something he could never have done before as he was too scared to do that. He did it once to the wrong person and got his fingers burned...
Ah, but we are not Twilight fans. We don't love mindlessly because Rochester has an actor's name, because he has black eyes, we love because Rochester is Rochester. He is sparkly.Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
Of course it is not criticism! Any criticism historical novelists are subected to I find mindless drivvle as it does not take into account any contemporary normality. If such structures are studied, they should be studied from the point of view of historians (novels are the best way to determine general opinion), not 'X is racist/masochist/...' because it is irrelevant as that is a modern point of view.Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
Obsessed with Jane Eyre, the novel, and most specifically with Edward Rochester. I have a collage of the novel hanging on my office wall. I have taught the novel to high school students, college students, and directed a reading study in my church group. I have the novel on audio and carry it in my vehicle but read it frequently. My closest friend wrote an entire novel from Rochester's perspective. I have a collection of Jane Eyre books, some quite old....and so many characters in literature just cannot hold up to Edward Rochester.
Kiki, you really should burn me in my bed for replying so late. I was too busy to reply when you first posted (over a month ago), and then I kept thinking, "It's too late to post now." But I wanna talk to my most perspicacious JE friend.
Yes, and I suppose they connect that to the blindness too. Yeah, a little far fetched, though I'd still be interested in seeing it.Quote:
Originally Posted by kiki1982
I'd never connected the two watch references. Thanks for pointing them out. :blush:Quote:
It is very poignant that he gives away his hand, let himself be led and gives his watch away. The latter is reminiscent of the end of the shopping trip where he says he will attach Jane to a chain like that of his gold watch. As it is in the Conclusion maybe the chain with the watch will stretch to Jane forever and he will be the one attached.
Rochester and Jane's relationship with God/Christianity plays a major part in my view of JE. As I said earlier, he thinks marriage to her can transform him, but she tells him that a sinner's reformation cannot depend on another person. And finally he acknowledges God's justice and mercy.Quote:
The same image also reminds of his question about the little cord under his heart (during the first proposal). It's quite a nice image. It evokes him giving away any control he had and abandoning himself to her.
But your above thoughts reminded me that even spiritually, by the end of the novel, Jane is the one with the power. She's become his mediator, his glowing "virgin Mary" figure.(She wears blue in chapter 38, before becoming a mother, and apparently Mary was often depicted wearing blue. I can't remember why. I'm not expressing this well - I'll have to find the article that first suggested this to me.)
Slightly off topic, but have you seen the new JE film yet? I just watched it today and I'm underwhelmed. It's chops the novel up into little pieces, leaving hardly anything but romance. I don't know how anyone who didn't know the story could follow it, much less learn any of its complex themes.
To be fair to the new film, I should mention that I appreciated it's obvious Pre-Raphaelite imagery. (This Jane looked strikingly like the famous Pre-Raphaelite model Elizabeth Siddal.) I'd only recently been reading about how Charlotte aimed to be an artist, but (I think) her eyes were not good enough. And the connection was made between Charlotte's detail and symbolism and that of Pre-Raphaelite art.
Well, well, well, I'll have to get out of my room in the attic then... :lol:. I didn't see your reply because at that point we were occupied with Christmas and before that we were on a brief holiday... I keep thinking the same, but please talk to me if I am so 'perspicacious'. Does it mean something like 'eagle-eyed' (I had to look it up, but my Google Dutch translator said something like 'invest', although my German one said something meaning 'eagle-eyed')...Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
I forgot to mention that we had an accident with a bottle of Russian desert wine on the way back from holiday which managed to break the charger of mu hubby's laptop, so ever since, we had to share the charger which meant less time on the internet for me as my battery is up the creek (we got a new one today)...
Anyhoooo...
I don't actually think about it all day, you know, I just let my thoughts run as I am writing and it comes to me. I sometimes got amazed at what I have written (oh, that sounds sooooo arrogant :svengo:).Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
Christianity is in my mind important to JE because the author herself at least knew the bible in detail. I would say she was religious. It is hardly possible for her not to have been as she did not only have a curate father but eventually also a husband. It takes devotion, not only to the husband, but also to the cause itself to be able to live like that...Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
Jane is right in that Rochester takes her firstly as an excuse to reform, but essentially no sinner will become a better person if he does not reform for himself alone. That is less Catholic and more protestant: tireless self-improvement. Perdition is not inevitable. Man is doomed, but can prevent being cast into hell for his lusts by tirelessly fighting them. That's also why phrenology took off more than physiognomy. Physiognomy essentially determines what your nose is like and so what you are like. I.e. if you have a criminal's features, then you are one - I am still wondering what if an aristocrat like Byron had such features, but there you go...-. Phrenology told you about your tendencies, but it was less 'determined and final' than physiognomy. Therefore, you might have had a tendency for not being empathetic (like Rochester I have argued), but if you are aware of it, you can account for it.
Charlotte had a phrenology assessment once... I have forgotten what its conclusion was, but it was not terrible.
So to come back to Rochester and his debauchery: if he wishes to become a different man, he will need to determine that for himself and work at it. Essentially Jane cannot do anything to make it work. She can be his motivation, although she probably rejects that because she lives as God directs her and consequently finds that the only motivation for change should be God Himself. Therefore she only returns (with God's approval we might say) when he has changed for himself.
Elaborating on becoming a better man and the reason why he has become debauched could be another interesting question. Do people not display such behaviour because they do not feel that they are worth it to be loved, in the same way as people self-harm. Seeing it that way makes Rochester start out with very low self-esteem (it is always hard to be the second, certainly in his class), therefore over-compensating by
being charming. However, at the moment he sees that his wife is embarrassing him (to say the least) he is moved to self-distruction. He maybe doesn't do it, but he is certainly at that lowest level. In order to climb out of that pit, Jane can only encourage, as therapist can do, she cannot hand him a magic pill and that is, although that is what he wants from her initially. To Brontë the 'help' consisted of belief in God, as evoked in that Mary-connotation that you so cleverly highlighted :). It wouldn't be enough these days, although people do tend to turn to religion in their lowest moments.
Mary is often depicted or clothed in blue. Mary as a kind of agent bringing God into his world... She being touched by the Holy Ghost. There is something in that.Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
Wikipedia (referenced) says that several Jewish clerics argued that blue was the colour of God's glory. The Arc of the Covenant was transported (if that happened at all) under a blue veil. Early Jewish culture associated the colour blue with the heavens (as pure as a cloudless sky) so In a way God's golry follows that. Then it is easy to see why Mary was clothed in blue very often by early Christians who were still mainly Jewish in culture.
That's actually a lovely picture, as Rochester has been trying to reach a higher level for ages, but never succeeded. Maybe the 'glittering ornament' round her neck could be paired with the morning star of Venus in the sky?
I haven't seen it, no, but I always find that any adaptation, be it poetic (Zefirelli) or very peisodical and almost a copy (the 1983 version) always lacks a great deal. It is either romance or a feeble attempt at capturing the whole (mostly total shambles). Or they do it well (as in 1983), but then the whole thing is very episodical and not a good film...Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
I should look into early- and mid-Victorian art views. That could be important yes.
Obviously she had a good eye and at least knew how to draw (don't know about the result :p), judging from some of the sequences in the novel. But then again, she would have been taught to draw as all middle class girls back then.
Yeah, burn me again.
Lol. You're clever enough to get out.Quote:
Originally Posted by kiki1982
Perspicacious basically means "discerning" or "penetratingly perceptive". So actually eagle-eyed works too. ;)Quote:
I keep thinking the same, but please talk to me if I am so 'perspicacious'. Does it mean something like 'eagle-eyed' (I had to look it up, but my Google Dutch translator said something like 'invest', although my German one said something meaning 'eagle-eyed')...
That must've been annoying, but kinda funny too. Glad you've got a new one now.Quote:
I forgot to mention that we had an accident with a bottle of Russian desert wine on the way back from holiday which managed to break the charger of mu hubby's laptop, so ever since, we had to share the charger which meant less time on the internet for me as my battery is up the creek (we got a new one today)...
Absolutely. Though I think Charlotte Bronte went beyond just being the good curate's daughter and explored questions that still engage Christians today.Quote:
Christianity is in my mind important to JE because the author herself at least knew the bible in detail. I would say she was religious. It is hardly possible for her not to have been as she did not only have a curate father but eventually also a husband. It takes devotion, not only to the husband, but also to the cause itself to be able to live like that...
One of the first reviewers of JE wrote, “The autobiography of Jane Eyre is pre-eminently an anti-Christian composition. There is throughout it a murmuring against the comforts of the rich and against the privations of the poor which.. is a murmuring against God's appointment.” I would argue exactly the opposite. I'm convinced that JE is pre-eminently a Christian composition, in which the curate's daughter attempts to reconcile the Christian principle of self-sacrifice with the equally Christian principles of freedom and equality.
The book's main Christian message is not one about how to be saved. (Indeed, though I am convinced that the fiercely anti-Catholic author of Villette included a theme on Protestant vs. Catholic redemption, the overall theology is strongly Universalist.) No, the Christianity of Jane Eyre addresses practical questions that still engage Christians today. Questions like, “Do I have to give up my autonomy to be Christian?” “What is a woman's place?” “Does Christianity prohibit or require equality in marriage ?” “Can a Christian woman have sexual desires?” And, of course, “Did God really ordain class hierarchy?”
(Okay, so maybe most of those were problems unique to Victorians, but there's a tendency within conservative Christianity, which I grew up in, to deny women equality [because of what I consider misreadings of the apostle Paul]. And JE so intelligently deals with the actual sin of Victorian attitudes that elevated men and denigrated women, that I consider JE the book that made me a Christian feminist.)
I don't mean to contradict, because I really do see your point here, but I would have argued for its Protestantism from the fact that Rochester can not reform through "good intentions" and "paving hell with energy", i.e. "good works". He has reared Adelle on the "Roman Catholic principle of expiating numerous sins by one good work." While the word "conversion" may be a little too Evangelical for what Bronte herself would have believed, it is only through submission to providence and unearned forgiveness that Rochester is redeemed. (But maybe I'm underestimating the emphasis on grace - unmerited favor - within Catholic theology, since I'm Protestant.)Quote:
Jane is right in that Rochester takes her firstly as an excuse to reform, but essentially no sinner will become a better person if he does not reform for himself alone. That is less Catholic and more protestant: tireless self-improvement. Perdition is not inevitable. Man is doomed, but can prevent being cast into hell for his lusts by tirelessly fighting them.
Great thoughts. I think I agree on everything here.Quote:
So to come back to Rochester and his debauchery: if he wishes to become a different man, he will need to determine that for himself and work at it. Essentially Jane cannot do anything to make it work. She can be his motivation, although she probably rejects that because she lives as God directs her and consequently finds that the only motivation for change should be God Himself. Therefore she only returns (with God's approval we might say) when he has changed for himself.
Elaborating on becoming a better man and the reason why he has become debauched could be another interesting question. Do people not display such behaviour because they do not feel that they are worth it to be loved, in the same way as people self-harm. Seeing it that way makes Rochester start out with very low self-esteem (it is always hard to be the second, certainly in his class), therefore over-compensating by
being charming. However, at the moment he sees that his wife is embarrassing him (to say the least) he is moved to self-distruction. He maybe doesn't do it, but he is certainly at that lowest level. In order to climb out of that pit, Jane can only encourage, as therapist can do, she cannot hand him a magic pill and that is, although that is what he wants from her initially. To Brontë the 'help' consisted of belief in God...
I grew up on the Old Testament sanctuary story, so why didn't I think of this? I applaud you for figuring this out! Furthermore, in Number 15:38 the Israelites were instructed to put a border of blue on all their garments to remember the commandments. Oh, and I've also heard a theory that the Ten Commandments (if you assume the story is literal, of course) were originally on blue stones/tablets. So, yes, blue obviously has a lot of symbolism for holiness. (I also love the fact that contrasted to the drab colors imposed at Lowood ostensibly to mortify the flesh and make them better Christians, the mature Jane - who has, as you said, lived as God directed her -can wear beautiful colors. She's still the same modest, self-possessed, deeply principled woman, but she knows that eschewing beauty doesn't make you holy.Quote:
Wikipedia (referenced) says that several Jewish clerics argued that blue was the colour of God's glory. The Arc of the Covenant was transported (if that happened at all) under a blue veil. Early Jewish culture associated the colour blue with the heavens (as pure as a cloudless sky) so In a way God's golry follows that. Then it is easy to see why Mary was clothed in blue very often by early Christians who were still mainly Jewish in culture.
Hm, care to elaborate on the significance of Venus? Somewhat in the same line, I researched the meaning of the name Helen on a hunch and these are some of the meanings: "light or bright", "torch", "moon", "sun ray, shining light". Which makes perfect sense, since she's the one who teaches Jane about self-respect (which we see when she leaves Rochester) and forgiveness (and she has to forgive not only Aunt Reed, but St. John and Rochester as well, for how they try to control her).Quote:
That's actually a lovely picture, as Rochester has been trying to reach a higher level for ages, but never succeeded. Maybe the 'glittering ornament' round her neck could be paired with the morning star of Venus in the sky?
I absolutely agree with you about the two adaptations you mentioned, and I think we also agree about 2006 (and the horror of the most recent Emma). I'll tell you when I get around to posting some of my thoughts on JE2011 on my blog.Quote:
I haven't seen it, no, but I always find that any adaptation, be it poetic (Zefirelli) or very peisodical and almost a copy (the 1983 version) always lacks a great deal. It is either romance or a feeble attempt at capturing the whole (mostly total shambles). Or they do it well (as in 1983), but then the whole thing is very episodical and not a good film...
Obviously she had a good eye and at least knew how to draw (don't know about the result :p), judging from some of the sequences in the novel. But then again, she would have been taught to draw as all middle class girls back then.
I recently saw some good paintings/drawings of flowers by Charlotte in Jane O'Neil's The World of the Brontes. However, I can't find them online. Here's her sketch of Anne, which I find inferior to her "nature" sketches. http://www.gutenberg.org/files/19011...mages/anne.jpg
Ok, this is going to be very long, but my thouhts ran away with me :)
Oh, you... :cornut:Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
[QUOTE=L.M. The Third;1109738]That must've been annoying, but kinda funny too. Glad you've got a new one now.[/QUOTE
Haha, yes it was quite funny, actually. My husband and I were actually getting off the bus from Prague at the station of Nürnberg to get on a train home. and we had about five minutes because it was rushhour - still on time though. My husband grabs the laptop bag with two bottles of drink: one desert wine and one quite expensive Armenian cognac (Ararat, it is so good that the French are now buying the vineyards! You should try it). As he is getting down the stairs (we were at the top floor of the double-decker bus), he drops the bag because he was in a hurry and hadn’t really got hold of it properly. It starts leaking and my husband has a quick look and finds that the bottle of desert wine has lost its bottom, but there is no time to really deal with it as there were only about five minutes before the train. It was about 5 o'clock and we still had a scheduled 6 hours of travel before us... Anyway, so there we go through this big station with a bag dripping with red liquid :lol:, onto the train (only made it by one minute), into a carpeted compartment, stinking of portwine :lol:. I was so embarrassed I told the people behind us that my husband wasn't exactly an alcoholic, but that we had had an accident... Anyway, so my husband gets into the bathroom, splatters the whole thing with wine so it looks as if someone has committed a murder in it... Then the guard comes whom I have to tell that my hubby is dealing with a broken bottle of wine in the bathroom and that he has the tickets :lol:. As the guard comes back, he looks into the bathroom and is so appalled that he locks it because it couldn’t receive any peeing passengers really (Germans are very meticulous - wasn't angry though) and thus we ended up with my hubby's laptop's screen stained red from port wine and the charger on the blink. We bought a new charger and the laptop itself is surprisingly still working...
Funny story though :lol: particularly in the train :lol: Germans are so nice. :)
So now for serious:
Oh I agree. Very intelligent woman. Although the idea that God had determined the order of things was still quite prevalent in the days before Darwin. It's quite strange: on the one side the rich were the rich and the poor the poor, but the rich were supposed to help the poor. Questioning the very make-up of society was ungodly, but helping to relieve God's order was not. :confused: For us that is profoundly strange. After Darwin had filtered through the philosophy of the rich-poor, sane-mad etc. became even worse though: the poor were just useless and they could not be helped anyway (survival of the fittest). Of course that is a total misrepresentation of Darwin who was aiming for the common ancestor, but that misinterpretation led to the mad being abandoned and the poor and criminals being classified as doomed (in physiognomy and phrenology). I don't know what was better: the tireless philanthropists which Rochester seems to despise (mind you, the workhouses did not work out so well although they were meant as a good thing) or later...Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
Those who did impute anti-Christianness to Jane Eyre I think were mainly motivated by fear of the Chartist movement which was threatening revolution, all over Europe in fact. They saw the order they knew crumble and were afraid of what those clueless people were going to do. In view of the French Revolution, I think their fear was justified. I wouldn't have wanted to lose my head over something like that... The Restoration had proved ineffective and had led to the barricades in Paris Hugo writes about in Les Misérables. They kicked out the king, I think it was Louis-Philippe, and then kicked out the first president (a Bonaparte) who crowned himself emperor. Not the original Bonaparte, though, but Napoleon III (I believe it was). It was quite a volatile age and casting doubt on the order was deemed dangerous, particularly in the year 1847 (when JE was published) the so-called year of revolution in Europe.
But it is commendable that she did actually question the 'order' because it shows intelligence. The question 'why' is always more daunting than 'how', ‘who’ or 'when'.
Quakerism has also been addressed in these terms and there is such a vast amount of interpretations of the Christian religion (as of other religions of course) that the point could be made that the answers to those questions depend on your religious point of view (and necessarily on the Christian wing you belong to). As you say, St Paul is often blamed for inequality. It is strange that he is never quoted as an excuse for Christian women to cover up, because I think in his first letter to the Corinthians he says that man is the head of woman, but goes on to state that a woman should cover her modesty. The first is often quoted to validate male dominance (the Jehova’s Witnesses for example) where the second is not really quoted. It would be unacceptable at any rate. All those who claim on the basis of bible verses fail to take into account the historical and maybe symbolic context. The Quakers for example were champions of women’s rights, although they were deeply religious. They also acknowledged that love in marriage could be passionate (from both sides ;)). From their vow of honesty they were also responsible for displaying prices on their goods, for example, as some of the first shop-keepers to do so. Maybe it’s a bit like the ‘passion’ evangelical and born-again Christians allegedly feel. I find that a bit strange, but if the love of God rules your life (and indeed it should for them) then it cannot be condoned that a man may grieve his wife and betray his sacred wedding vows to her (and God, may we add), ignore the commandment that one should not commit adultery and still be seen as honourable to society… However, it is probably the case that practices cloud any morality there is. If people wish to keep money, they cannot afford to marry a person without and thus they are limited. The stable boy, however beautiful and loving, is not an option, so they marry in spite of their own inclination and the marriage break down. But as ‘what God hath joined, no man shall put asunder’, both partners are stuck in a (possible bad, otherwise indifferent) marriage and what does one do to stay sane? Victorian morality is quite rich (read sarcastically), richer than Georgian. In Georgian times as long as you had provided an heir, you could sleep around, provided it was done discretely (flaunting yourself like Lydia was not really deemed a virtue). In Victorian times, with the virgin Queen and her wonderfully looking and intelligent Biedermeier husband, there was none of that, apart from of course for men. Women were divorced. If you were stuck in such a loveless marriage, you should have had an iron will or otherwise you went mad… Certainly if you knew your husband had been out shagging again. At least the Georgians were straight about it.Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
No, no, that is a good point. You may be right there. The one does not rule out the other . The nasty Catholic idea that one can pay for his sins by expiation indeed should not qualify one to go to heaven… As far as I know, in Catholic religion (I grew up Catholic, but not really too religious and devoted – my grandparents were but those who I was closest to died too early) God forgives if you are sincerely sorry. However, I know the Vatican still provides indulgences (as apparently they are called in English - I know of someone who got one for her and her father, nice document), but they were converted into sincerer documents in the 16th century. Catholics, compared to really pious Protestants are still quite materially oriented. So I can understand why Brontë would have been horrified, but she may have jumped to conclusions. Maybe it is a too modern approach, but I don’t think that it was ever considered alright to go and confess, then pray and then get on with drinking, smoking, fool around with women and do the same thing all over again the following week. Although many did it and then got absolution on their death bed… Essentially the idea that God forgives if you sincerely regret, even if you really do not deserve it (like Rochester), is present in both.Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
The distinction between Catholic good works and English good works (and by extension protestant good works – I don’t know how it is in the Netherlands or Germany for example) is also maybe to do with the Anglo-Saxon idea of what a rich person should do. The Anglo-Saxon kings or whatever they were had a duty to supply their people with food, drink and housing to show their wealth (and to keep their alliance :D). Famously, in Waverley the Scottish lord Waverley stays with provides a big feast nearly every night because it is his Germanic duty. Similarly, in Lost in Austen Darcy declares that it is his duty to give money to the poor. In this way, it is the duty of the rich, that if they are rich, to let other people also enjoy their riches. A rich person should not feel guilty that he is rich, he should use his money not to enjoy it for himself alone (of course also), but to let other people enjoy it too. Hence the great works of philanthropy in England. Not only Quakers (of which the Rowntree foundation is still a major force nowadays), but also normal rich Englishmen built villages in order to improve the condition of the poor and even tried tireless to explain to them how to keep things clean out of pure zeal. This way of looking at things is still visible in this day and age. Over the Channel it is a kind of obligation to do good if you are rich. On the other hand, Catholics on the continent could not deal with God’s order and tried to tell themselves that God had wanted it thus, but started to compensate for the ‘sin’ by doing charity work. They did a lot less personally than the church who was the main supplier of charity works. Most of the time, ‘good works’ would constitute of giving money to others for poor relief. In that way, maybe Rochester spent too long in France in order to personally care about his tenants, staff and estate?
I will have t look into that, but I also did research Helen’s name in connection with the four elements and ether, Jane’s journey as a quest almost for the ideal balance of air (intellect), fire (passion), earth (body/material) and water (emotion/feeling). Indeed she teaches Jane to think her own thoughts, in spite of what goes on around her or what other people do to her.Quote:
Originally Posted by L.M. The Third
I adore Jane Eyre!!! My favorite part? It's too difficult, because I love almost every part of it... almost, because I find St. John's part a bit annoying... but I especially like the gypsy scene (too humorous!! ;)) and, of course, the marriage proposal! One of the most beautiful thing in this book is, in my opinion, the wonderful romanticism that is never tiresome or sugary!
Now this is a truly shamefully late reply. My excuse is that I've been distracted by blogging lately. I have to get back into the habit of visiting Litnet regularly, so I don't keep dragging conversations out or missing interesting threads.
ROFL at your wine experience! Thanks for sharing.
Yes, I think you're right about the fear of revolution. Although one could argue that Evangelicalism and upward mobilization (such as that in Jane Eyre or Great Expectations) helped prevent revolution in England, that might have been inevitable if the divide between the common laborers and the aristocracy had not started to crumble. I'll definitely have to research what was going on in Europe in 1847.
Kiki, your thoughts on Quakerism are fascinating and definitely something I'll have to research more on. I was thinking about the 2006 adaptation today (which in many ways I'm appalled by). But it did highlight (through its musical theme, etc) the 19th century idea that Bertha's madness was inextricable from her sexual appetites. (Of course, it seems that madness due to sexuality was more possible for women than for men. ;) Yet Jane (who as Gilbert and Gubar have pointed out is in some ways Bertha's double) is also a highly sensual person and the film shows that too - although in anachronistic ways. What the film failed to do was present that reconciliation of sexuality with reason and conscience that the book achieves, which may well owe something to the understandings in Quakerism or Judaism.
Btw, I think you may be interested in my review of the newest adaptation here.
the laptop :lol: and it is still working despite all the predictions of doom from other people.
No problem for the late reply, I have been stuck in a discussion on 'is Hitler to be called "evil" or not'...
Anyway...
Upward mobility was certainly a great redeeming fact in Victorian times. It has been researched that nowadays, upward mobility is less than during the 19th century. And that's saying something. Although I think if people were middle class (could afford some small pleasures and could eat properly) they were already satisfied. They did not necessarily have to sit in parliament in the House of Lords... I think although people with a profession were despised by the aristocracy (in Edwardian times around the turn of the century it was not fashionable amongst the landed gentry to refer to Saturday and Sunday as 'the weekend' because it implied that one had a working week :rolleyes:) and there was a divide between middle class landed gentry (like Rochester and Darcy) and landed aristocracy (like young Ingram), the divide was less than on the continent. Maybe because of protestant fluidity. A lady like Blanche Ingram had to marry a Rochester not to sink into poverty and that had already been done or ages. Although her connections were what people were after, it would not have been really 'shameful' for her to have a middle class husband, provided he fit his role and he was of the long-standing sort (not a guy like Pip in Great Expectations). The divide fizzled out that way, becausz there were a lot of 'mixed' people like Darcy. In France, I believe, you had more of such a divide. In Belgium where I come from, aristos used to marry aristos and would never sink to middle class, even though they were impoverished and the 'pool' of rich aristos got smaller and smaller. I mean, the upcoming king is the very first who married low aristocracy (and it is still aristocracy!). They called her 'a commoner'. After WWII there was a big riot in Belgium (literally) because during the war, the king who was widowed (his wife, Swedish princess Astrid died, it had been love match; she was killed in a car accident in Switzerland by her husband who was at the wheel) had made the daughter of a governor pregnant and had married her without the parliament's permission. The governor was high middle class and member of parliament. The king had to abdicate... There is no-one in the Belgian royal family that can be compared to a Mary of Denmark or Maxima of the Netherlands, Kate of the UK or Laetizia of Spain... I think you got redeemed as a middle class person if you got a title. But where upward mobility in the UK could take you from the debtors' prison or even the workhouse to the table of the Prime Minister in one generation (provided you got to know the right people and you had brains), you couldn't do that on the continent. I think that is why mobility worked in the UK: minds were less material. Catholics are rule people: you do that, but not that. Prostestants are more fluid.
I think Dickens's Barnaby Rudge addreses this issue of revolution. I have never read him (seen the last BBC adaptation of Great Expectations) because I don't like his style, but I have come across Barnaby Rudge in conjunction with the Chartist movement and the year of revolution. I think that was 1847 or otherwise 1848, but it won't have made much of a difference in people's minds anyway.
Actually the 2006 adaptation was the reason why I read Jane Eyre in the first place. At the time, another Belgian channel with less money put on the 1996 one (or 1997) with Ciaran Hinds. I had seen it before when I was a teenager, but at the time I was so puzzled at the sheer difference that I decided to investigate. And that's how I came to this forum...
It did make Bertha's madness relative to her sexuality, which is a valid claim, historically, but indeed, as you say, it did not go the whole hog when it came to that theme. The adaptation stopped short in a number of places, I can recall, but not in detail. I mean, by all means make the woman passionate, and make him passionate as well, but don't betray the character by letting her lose her reason. It seems that they saw certain themes, but failed to carry them on somehow. A flaw also present in Emma.
I am obsessed with Jane Eyre. Favorite parts, too many... probably the moment when she decides to leave Rochester ("...there I plant my foot.") most powerful chapters to me are her roaming around moors, almost starved before being rescued.
I'm obsessed with JANE EYRE! What a great story, and character!