Put yourself in the shoes of a 19th century girl. My answer is No. Her line "I must respect myself" hit home.
Yes, given the circumstances. He wasn't in love with Bertha. He wasn't in a committed sane relationship with Bertha. She was more of an animal than human being. I understand Jane's thoughts and feelings, but life is short. I would have married him.
No because that would be adultery.
However, since he was deceived in the marriage, I think it would have qualified for an annulment. However, if he had done that, there'd be no story.
God loves you as if you were the only person on this earth.
After Jane discovered Bertha and Rochester pleaded with her to 'marry' him he meant live as man and wife unmarried. At that point he wasn't asking Jane to commit bigamy.
The distance is nothing. The first step is the hardest.share
Nope, definitely not. It is often hard to imagine the strength of religious conviction back then, but Mr. Rochester was not just asking her to 'live in sin' but actually to live in SIN....and damn any children they have and make her an outcast socially.
It was a selfish thing to do and any woman with self respect would have turned him down at that point, so the important point here was not that Jane turned him down, but that Mr. Rochester was so morally bankrupt as to ask her and debase her further.
If you love Satan and are 100% proud of it copy this and make your signature!
Was there no grounds for divorce back in those days?
shareLittlesue, this article might help in clarifying the law regarding divorce and insanity. (It's only short.)
http://www.stanford.edu/~steener/su02/english132/MoralMadness.htm
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.
Thanks Supergran xx
shareIs it still true that a man cannot divorce a wife who exhibits the first signs of insanity after the marriage?
www.freerice.com
Can't argue with that, anatja. Rochester should never have asked her in the first place. Shows how he underestimates her principles and sense of self-worth. Yet......
..Rochester is desperate. He loves Jane passionately. He has managed to delude himself that he isn't married in any real sense. Indeed, Bertha's adultery would have freed him from the marital tie under any other circumstances. I cut him a great deal of slack, especially when Bronte tells us:
Mr Rochester has a thoughtful nature and a very feeling heart; he is neither selfish nor self-indulgent; he is ill-educated, misguided; errs, when he does err, through rashness and inexperience: he lives for a time as too many other men live, but being radically better than most men, he does not like that degraded life, and is never happy in it. He is taught the severe lessons of experience and has sense to learn wisdom from them. Years improve him; the effervescence of youth foamed away, what is really good in him still remains. His nature is like wine of a good vintage, time cannot sour – but only mellows him. Such, at least, was the character I meant to portray.
Rochester errs and is taught a very severe lesson. The contrite Rochester of a year later is a very fine man indeed.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.
"Rochester errs and is taught a very severe lesson. The contrite Rochester of a year later is a very fine man indeed."
Hi Supergran. I think Rochester was a real piece-of-work, as a man, and, of course, as an iconic literary figure. From a psychological point of view he was unbridled id and Jane was the one with the super-ego, who could see the bigger picture and recognize the boundaries of others (despite her being younger) - she could rein him in, sort to speak. Rochester recognized an equal intelligence in Jane, and he saw someone, like himself, who wasn't a blind conformist to the thinking of the day. I think Jane saw his "living in sin" proposal as something that, more than just an affront to christian piety, would be extremely dangerous for her own integrity as an individual - there was also an establishing of a balance of power in the relationship, and Rochester was testing her every step of the way (not always consciously) - almost like a powerful steed who can't relax until he feels that his rider is able to contain his impulses, and through a gentle touch, guide his way. Ah, I think I rode that metaphor about as far as it can go. If you look at Rochester from a Jungian angle, you would recognize that his female side is ill (the insane wife being held captive and hidden from the outside world), it's out of balance (Jung actually did reference Rochester when discussing the male's anima). In Jane he sees a female side that's strong, healthy, full of spirit and integrity - and he senses that by coming into relationship with her, he will become a better man - he will be redeemed. There's the uncontrolled fire that consumes and destroys (that Bertha releases) and then there's the warmth and glow of the fire of the hearth (which is what Jane offers). Rochester has to go through hellfire before he's ready to accept and come home to a healthy, mature love - I see Jane as his youthful guide. As Jane finds her own place in the world (and power), through her example, her balance of passion and integrity, she and Rochester are able to find each other.
Rochester should never have asked her in the first place.I agree Supergran, but if the marriage had occurred would it have been legally binding. Wouldn't Rochester have been considered a bigamist? share
Hi spookyrat.
No, the marriage would have been illegal and Rochester would have been committing bigamy. He could not divorce Bertha because of her insanity, as he explains in chapter 27:
...I could not rid myself of [Bertha] by any legal proceedings: for the doctors now discovered that MY WIFE was mad...
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.
Thanks for your swift reply supergran. Nanas always have the right advice.
Whatever was Rochester thinking?
His unbridled lust for Jane may have compromised her virtue and sound principles.
I know Mrs Fairfax cautioned Jane to be careful, but I wonder whether it was loyalty to Rochester that stopped her from just having a further quiet word in Jane's ear?
Have you read the book, spookyrat? You'll have greater insight into Rochester's motives and intentions, how extenuating circumstances have shaped him, and how he has the potential to be a good man.
Turning to Mrs Fairfax - ah, the million dollar question: How much did she know? We never see her after the aborted wedding, so we never know for sure. When Jane returns to Thornfield a year later, the landlord of a local inn tells her:
"You are not perhaps aware...that there was a lady - a lunatic, kept in the house?...She was kept in very close confinement: people even for some years was not absolutely certain of her existence. No one saw her: they only knew by rumour that such a person was at the Hall; and who or what she was it was difficult to conjecture. They said Mr. Edward had brought her from abroad, and some believed she had been his mistress. But a queer thing happened a year since--a very queer thing....This lady..turned out to be Mr. Rochester's wife!"
So you pays your money......!
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.
Have you read the book, spookyrat?No supergranny.
...he has the potential to be a good man.I think the film managed to convey that message pretty well.
CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE BOOK
Does the book make it clearer as to how the secret of Bertha's "existence" could be kept secret from Jane and presumably others for as long as it was?
A girl of Jane's intelligence and curiosity would have gone in search of the cause of the "goings on", and questioned every Tom, Dick and Harry. Thornfield wasn't that big a place!Yes I agree. It seemed a little strange to me that Jane didn't discreetly investigate further both the causes of the fire and the attack on Richard. She seemed extraordinarily willing to do what Rochester wanted: i.e. Shut up and ask nothing.
There is mention by Bronte that Rochester had had "them" keep Bertha's existence secret even before he ever met Jane. I guess "them" means the doctor and Poole. He says it is because he didn't think ANY governess would stay if they knew the truth.
That leads me to an interesting thought. We are led by strategic plot points to believe Poole might be dangerous and even a threat to Jane. Bronte has Rochester say things that encourage this belief. But when the truth comes out, I guess we are then to conclude that Poole was never dangerous...physically.
No, she wouldn't harm Jane physically. But she knew a secret and went along with the subterfuge required by Rochester that WAS dangerous to Jane emotionally, if not physically (almost starving on the moor). Some say Jane was strong and dealt with it handily. Whether I agree or not, as the story unfolds there is no way for Poole and even Rochester to know that. Yes, she survived and overcame, but as far as they were concerned, she could have been damaged much more severely than she was.
Or are we to think perhaps Poole and the doctor never knew Rochester intended to try to marry Jane?
I think it's assumed that, based on social doctrine, Rochester could never love or marry Jane because he is a nobleman and she is just a governess. They were aware of the fact that he favored her companionship but wouldn't believe that it could possibly be anything more. Furthermore, the two of them seemed to take great care in hiding their deeper affections for each other. Add in Jane's self-respect and Rochester's habit of emotionally toying with people and I don't find it at all difficult to believe that none of the servants or visitors of Thornfield knew of Rochester's true intentions, never mind Poole and the doctor, who spent the majority of their time away from Thornfield's inhabitants.
shareNo. Honestly he wouldn't have wanted her if she would have said yes. He wanted her because she was pure and innocent and for her to live at his literal whore would make her anything but pure and innocent. Not only that but as a governess all she had was her reputation with which to make her living. If she lost her reputation she could never work again and if she didn't marry him she would have no legal recourse if anything should happen to him.
shareIMHO, it isn't whether a person might go along with him...apparently many women were happy to shack up w/ him and I guess, since his wife is unable to provide him the emotional and ... he craves, it would be ok for some women to think it was ok. BUT, Jane did not. And he seems to not notice how badly she is feeling as he is cajoling her. The entire Ch27 is one long selfish rant on his part to find any crack in her armor. Even if she was being a bit too prudish...that's what she felt and he didn't respect it. THAT is the material point...HE didn't respect her needs and desires and only complained of his own.
As to Bertha...it's not HER fault she's crazy. She didn't really trick him given she probably wasn't in her right mind when they married. There seems to be so much leniency granted Rochester because of the sad hand he's been dealt. But what of Jane's sorry hand. Why didn't his sad and traumatic background make him MORE sympathetic to a fellow sufferer instead of less? Would we grant Jane the same liberty of behavior if SHE was the one tricking him, intentionally making him jealous by flirting with other men in his presence, lying to him to the point of endangering her life (Bertha could've tried to kill her like she tried R and brother.) Would we forgive her for chiding him for his righteous intentions when she was trying to get him to do what any sensible person would think was underhanded. And I'm NOT thinking of the getting her to be his mistress. Many women might be happy to be some married guy's mistress if, you know, he loved them enough to lie to them and threaten them with violence. I'm talking about not honoring what she felt was right. What kind of love is it that disregards the heartfelt and honest concerns of the object of that affection?
But of course, I am being aggressively naive!
It seems that Rochester's claim that he was overthrowing a mere social convention by wanting to take a second wife is true...but his attitude diminishes the importance of that convention. It wasn't just Jane that could have been hurt when their nonexistant marriage was found out...it would be any children born of that illegal union. Since Rochester was going to tell Jane a year and a day after they married, she'd know any of her children were illegitimate bastards born out of wedlock PER SOCIETY. I am not expert of society in that day and age, but I imagine that could put them at a substantial disadvantage in good society. If Bertha lived on would they even be able to legally take the name Rochester?
shareI don't know how I would act if I was a 19th century girl but if you put me in Jane's shoes my dignity and self respect would be out the window in a second if you were talking Michael Fassbender as Mr. Rochester. Even if you subbed him for some other version of Mr. Rochester the promise of wealth and companionship on it's own would be tempting for anyone with a strong connection to someone. I would probably go along with being his mistress or pressure him to dump her in some remote woods or maybe plot on my own to drown or poison her. She was awful, crazy and a burden so if I was a 19th century girl with loose morals I would not feel too bad about that plan. I love that Jane didn't do it because she needed to prove something to herself and she wanted to maintain Mr. Rochester's respect for her but I think it would have been perfectly acceptable for her to take the easy way out.
RIP Cory Monteith your fans miss you dearly
Hi blondiebear.
Some weeks before she discovers the truth about Rochester's marriage to Bertha, Jane begins to grow uneasy about her relationship with him.
Remember when, in the book, he takes her shopping? He wants to dress her in rich silks and jewels. Jane "hated the business". She keeps making references to being "dressed like a doll", to being "a second Danae", a "slave" to Rochester's "sultan", part of his "seraglio". Further, writing in retrospect, she realises that she has made him her "whole world", her "hope of heaven", her "idol". None of these are compatible with the Jane we know.
She writes to her rich uncle in Madeira, informing him of her impending marriage. Her reason?-
"If I had but a prospect of one day bringing Mr. Rochester an accession of fortune, I could better endure to be kept by him now".
All of this is before she finds out about Bertha. Even as Rochester's prospective wife, she's worried about losing her independence.
Of course, she eventually discovers the truth. She then hears the full story about Rochester's past mistresses and the disdain he feels towards them. Jane makes a mental note to help her in her moment of temptation:
I felt the truth of these words; and I drew from them the certain inference, that if I were so far to forget myself and all the teaching that had ever been instilled into me, as--under any pretext--with any justification--through any temptation--to become the successor of these poor girls, he would one day regard me with the same feeling which now in his mind desecrated their memory. I did not give utterance to this conviction: it was enough to feel it. I impressed it on my heart, that it might remain there to serve me as aid in the time of trial.
Why have I gone into all this detail (forgive me)? It's to, hopefully, illustrate how even marriage to Rochester, let alone living with him, would not have worked. Jane and Rochester need to undergo the whole process described in the book. Jane has to achieve financial independence, and to find the balance between principle and passion. Rochester has to be chastened. They can then come together as equals.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.
Nice answer, supergran. While the film didn't go into details of the finances and writing to the uncle, I liked how the uneasiness was expressed in Jane's nervous traversing of the gardens, and how the hedges seemed oppressively closed in around her. One of my favorite scenes was her resting her cheek against Rochester's leg, as she says he's the most phantom-like of all, that she instinctively knows there's something wrong, and that there remains an imbalance between the two. And his face in that scene is this mixture of guilt and earnestness, as he insists that he's real enough. The image of the scene visually captures the disparity of their respective positions, such that, as you say, them being together would not have worked.
shareIf I was Jane, no doubt I would I would marry Edward, even if Bertha was still alive. This is not a matter of religion or politic or whatever social thing: it's about two people going against all human laws in order to find themselves and each other. It's about the strong connection between two people whose life has been nothing but moral and physical pain. It's about how two people who weren't meant to live together find an interest in each other and fall in love, a true and strong love. Of course, having a second wife was not allowed back then, but Edward was in constant suffering while living with Bertha and Jane was in constant suffering while living with her aunt and, after, while beeing at Lowood; they needed each other to finally find the good side of life, they couldn't live without each other. I know the society didn't mind about that last point, but two people having been seeking for their soulmate all their life and finally finding this person shouldn't be unable to marry each other.
They're in love, they're happy, that's all that matters. The rest of the world can go *beep* itself if it is against it (sorry for using such words, there's nothing else to explain myself more clearly).
An understandable, but kneejerk, reaction.
Not for nothing did Bronte write the story arc the way she did. Only after the subsequent events in the book could Jane and Edward come together as true equals.
If there aren't any skeletons in a man's closet, there's probably a Bertha in his attic.
True ;-)
sharePurely for interest, it happened to my grandmother. Her husband died in the first world war and she lived with my 'Uncle Jim', who she couldn't marry because his wife was in an asylum and so he was unable to divorce her. The shame was so great that my mother was dying before she told me (though I think I'd more or less got it by then). I never found out Uncle Jim's wife's name, nor where she was held. I am now in my 80s and haven't things changed?
shareVery true. I think to really understand this novel and the character of Jane herself, you have to put yourself into the mindset of an early Victorian, because their attitudes were so different from our own. That's something I had to keep reminding myself of when I first read the book because I SO wanted her to stay with him. Ultimately of course, it's for the best that she didn't.
shareUltimately of course, it's for the best that she didn't.
Still indomitable was the reply--"I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad--as I am now.
I'm afraid I didn't read the other posts, I just skipped straight to the end!!
Thank you for the wonderful quotes (particularly the first one - I'd completely forgotten it), every time I re-read passages from Jane Eyre I'm struck once again by how beautiful and perceptive Charlotte Bronte's writing was. When I first read this novel it was primarily for the love story, but now what I appreciate the most is how strong, courageous, intelligent and wise Jane is. She's a remarkable woman with so many admirable qualities.
I think it may be time for me to read the book again!!