The Eyre of the Beholder: A Literary Analysis of Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre is a novel written by Charlotte Brontë during the mid-nineteenth century.  The story centers around Jane Eyre and follows her life from her troubled childhood to her complicated adulthood and relationship with her employer, Rochester.  From the very beginning, Jane shares her thoughts and feelings with her audience, and the reader quickly realizes that the action and circumstances take a backseat; what Jane feels is where the focus will be.  The entire novel is told in first-person, and that poses a question: is Jane a reliable narrator?  There are instances of her blind-sidedness or naïveté that should be considered when reading the story.

Because the reader only has a single point of view, it becomes easy for the reader to be biased to Jane and internalize all of her emotions as well as her opinions of the people she interacts with.  As a result, there is a call for caution and careful consideration when analyzing Jane’s story.  There are several instances in which Jane’s judgement ought to be questioned such as when she described the abuse of her aunt and her one-dimensionally characterized siblings and when she described her romantic rival Miss Ingram as “very showy, but … not genuine … her mind was poor, her heart barren by nature” (239).  Jane admitted a fair number of times that she allowed jealous feelings to fester in her heart.  Was Miss Ingram really as dull as Jane says, or does Jane just let her pride get the better of her?  The matter is left up to the reader to decide.  Whilst Jane admitted that she is indeed a plain Jane, she does think very highly of herself when it comes to her intellect and her sophisticated way with words that existed even in her childhood and persisted into her adulthood.  She also insisted that she had as much worth as anyone else despite her lack of credentials as seen when she rebuked Rochester and declared, “I have as much soul as you” (17). She often shined when she reproved those that treated her poorly or at any point had a poor view of her. Taking that into account, questions may be raised like: Could Jane have twisted the characters of others even slightly in order to satisfy her discontent with them?  She states with pride, “I care for myself.  The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself” (102).  It could be interpreted that Jane believes herself to be better than women of high society because of her past sufferings and her academic inclinations.  Furthermore, the fact that Jane is the most dynamic and developed character of the entire story is certainly due to the fact that she intends her audience to identify and relate to her and mainly her on a deep emotional level.

Aside from the emotional bias, Jane Eyre acts not only as a compelling, controversial story, but also as Charlotte Brontë’s semi-autobiography.  Many of the events that happened in Jane’s life are similar to or directly parallel events in Brontë’s own life.  Thus, the story serves as an extension of Brontë’s emotions, opinions, struggles, and victories.  While Brontë’s firsthand experiences are beneficial to her writing in terms of the genuine depth of Jane’s character and the emotional relatability, Brontë’s intent in writing the novel seems to be very self-fulfilling: a satisfying, romanticized version of her life experiences.  Jane is objectively a good person, an ideal person, from her passion for academia to her humility.  Her meekness is shown most obviously in her refutation of Rochester when he fawned over her and constantly called her his fairy or angel: “You are dreaming, sir—or you are sneering” (25). In addition to her graceful turn of phrase, Jane is admirable for her strong character and bright fire which was something not commonly found in women at the time.  Jane stood as Brontë’s paradigm of what a woman ought to be; Jane is essentially—aside from her irrational infatuation for Rochester—a perfect, near faultless character.  Because of the self-fulfilling nature of Jane’s character, Brontë may have sought to live through her and therefore tailored the story to work in Jane’s favor.  Despite the problems that arise from Jane’s first-person perspective, it is apparent that Brontë never minded that her story was one-sided and missing the whole, impartial picture.  Her key focus was Jane’s emotional state, her resilience in whatever circumstance, and her subversive views on women, social class, and love and marriage.  When taking those factors into account, Jane Eyre’s point of view issues seem less crucial than it would be in other novels.  Admittedly, Jane and Rochester’s relationship should be no one’s ideal, but as a historical piece as opposed to a life example, their story is rightly revered as incredibly remarkable.

In conclusion, Jane Eyre features a number of questionable moments because the reader receives the entire take in Jane’s first-person point of view.  However, in light of the fact that Brontë’s underlying messages of equality of the sexes, marriage, and social class are the intended take-aways, the issues that arise from first-person storytelling enhance the experience of the novel rather than detract from it.

 

 

Works Cited

Brontë Charlotte. Jane Eyre. Arcturus, 2009.

History.com Editors. “Charlotte Bronte Born.” History.com, A&E Television Networks, 29 Nov. 2009, http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/charlotte-bronte-born.

---

On Faith and Knowledge: A Dialogue

“Paul’s idea of the relationship between knowledge and faith is certainly something I have not thought of before,” I pondered over the readings and turned to my friend, Hudson.  “Even before I read the scripture in the same mindset I read Plato and Aristotle, I thought that faith and knowledge were related, but not the same.”

“And what do you think is the relationship of knowledge and faith?” asked he.

“Knowledge and faith are bound together, but knowledge begets faith.”

“I disagree.”

“I beg your pardon?” I huffed, “Actually, Paul talks a lot about how knowledge is revealed by God, and through a relationship with him, people attain a deeper knowledge.  I do not mean to say that a relationship with Christ comes before faith; after all, from a human stand-point, how can one trust whom one does not know?”

“And what do you mean when you say, ‘to know’?”

“Well, there are two different kinds of knowledge to Paul.  There is ginōsko, which means ‘to be aware, to understand’, and there is oida, which means ‘to know from experience’.  Paul states that ‘the person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness’ (1 Cor. 2:14).  Therefore, no one can fully understand God without first having knowledge revealed to them by the Spirit.  Mary Healy states that ‘each act of preaching and hearing the gospel in faith involves an encounter between Christ himself and the bearer’ (Healy 138), affirming that there is a certain knowledge that is God-given.”

“So, do you mean to say that one may achieve faith through knowledge?”

“Yes, but not alone,” I replied.

“”Knowledge is a tool; it is objective,” Hudson interrupted, “Anyone can have it but that does not mean that they are guaranteed to use knowledge virtuously.”

“One may have knowledge and no faith, but one may not have faith without knowledge.  Knowledge about anything can be gained, but faith is a different kind of choice.  Anyone can have the knowledge (ginōsko) that Jesus died and rose again, though it is an act of faith to believe in the resurrection fully and apply it to life.  There is nothing in the Bible (at least as far as I am aware) that advocates for blind faith.  Whether it was the Lord’s past accounts of deliverance or God speaking to someone directly, the Bible heroes that acted in faith did not act without knowledge of God.”

“But can’t knowledge work against faith?” he reasoned, “Knowledge has the potential to sway someone away from the truth.  What of atheists?  What of evolutionists that refuse to believe in the Christian God because of their knowledge of science?  Knowledge doesn’t lead to anything on its own.  You’ve also said nothing on virtue.”

“One thing at a time, dear friend.  Paul said that God does not make himself hidden.  There is evidence of God in all things, so that people are ‘without excuse’ (Rom. 1: 20)”.  I never mean to say that knowledge always leads to faith, but one must have knowledge before one can have faith.  Knowledge can lead to faith which inevitably leads to virtue which may lead to the hunger for more knowledge, and when knowledge (oida) increases, so does faith increase.”

“I disagree.”

“Don’t you always?”

We left the discourse there, but we were sure to take it up again soon.

 

Works Cited

Healy, Mary, and Robin A. Parry. The Bible and Epistemology: Biblical Soundings on the Knowledge of God. Paternoster, 2007.

The Bible.  New International Version.