Genre: Classic
Series: Standalone
Page Count: 500
Publication Year: 1847
Publisher: Smith, Elder & Co.
Summary: A woman becomes a governess and so much more.
I already loved the 2006 tv adaptation, so going into this I was nervous it’d be another Pride and Prejudice situation. Happily, it wasn’t.
The book opens with Jane as a child living with her aunt and cousins. Almost immediately it’s shown that Jane is not a welcome addition to the family and she’s treated contemptibly by the whole household. She is soon sent to school where her living conditions are worse but after eight years she is ready to move on. She advertises to become a governess and soon arrives at Thornfield and meets its master, Mr. Rochester. He sees her as no one ever has and soon it seems as if love might bind them together. But what if there were an impediment?
The beginning conjures up some serious Harry Potter vibes because of how awful Jane’s relatives treat her. Her cousin John assaults her and when she defends herself she’s the one who’s punished. Seeing decent kids punished unjustly is extremely upsetting to me.
Jane does voice her distress to her aunt and I cheered her on for that. But when she gets to the school, she’s branded “a liar,” which comes across as akin to being a murderer. When her aunt informed the head school guy that Jane is a liar (she isn’t), he assures the aunt that she’ll be closely watched and he tells Jane to read a book with “an account of the awfully sudden death of Martha G—, a naughty child addicted to falsehood and deceit.” I’m not saying kids should lie all the time, but I don’t think ostracizing them or threatening them with sudden death is the best way to encourage truthfulness. And if lying had such a harsh reaction, how would they deter worse actions? It’s a miracle she turned out sane.
It’s about a hundred pages before she arrives at Thornfield, which is the part I really wanted to read. I think it’s the best part of the book and it certainly has the most interesting conversations and plot points. The major climax happens with a hundred and fifty pages to go and the remainder of the story casually moseys toward the conclusion. From a believability standpoint it makes sense to have the long break before the finale, but I think it could’ve occurred in fewer pages. I wasn’t bored with the tonal shift but I can’t say I’d eagerly reread that part.
Jane is one of the best female protagonists I’ve ever read. She is confident in her abilities and when major upheaval crashes onto her path, she reacts in a calm, reasonable manner. She’s levelheaded, capable, honest, helpful, direct, not a moocher, has a grip on reality and she makes mistakes. I understand her. I think in part I am her. Her thought process sometimes reminded me of how I think or would think in the same situation. I rarely relate to characters, but believing a character’s motives and mindset because they’re familiar is a cool experience. Go Jane!
Jane is leagues ahead of any 18-year-old of today and I think, despite their twenty-year age gap, she handled the relationship with Rochester well. Their age difference is not nearly as painful to witness as Rebecca.
Rochester. Rochester Rochester Rochester. I adore him in the adaptation and he’s good here too. He does make one jumbo mistake, which is plausible, but…like…dude…why? I feel bad for him though. I saw some reviews saying he’s manipulative and Jane should never have loved him. I can see their side. He does have a strong presence and Jane maybe gets swept along with it, but I do think Rochester loves her and wouldn’t treat her maliciously. I really enjoy his gruff attitude, especially when coupled with his humor. When Jane says she’s going to advertise for another governess position, his response is: “You shall walk up the pyramids of Egypt!”
He’s more emotional than modern male love interests and very expressive of his love for Jane. He says, “Oh, Jane! my hope—my love—my life!” and releases a deep, strong sob, which is kinda weird to see. But it doesn’t come across as unmanly, which I appreciate, and it fits within the story.
St. John Rivers needs to be slapped. He is way more of a manipulator than Rochester. He wants Jane to be a missionary with him in India, but only if she marries him first. And she says she’ll go, but only as his sister/companion. I’m over here like, “Whoa! Whoa Nelly! This can’t be coming out of her mouth.” That was a dumb thing for her to even contemplate. Read this stunning display of St. John’s persona as Jane’s Hindostanee teacher:
I found him a very patient, very forbearing, and yet an exacting master: he expected me to do a great deal; and when I fulfilled his expectations, he, in his own way, fully testified his approbation. By degrees, he acquired a certain influence over me that took away my liberty of mind: his praise and notice were more restraining than his indifference. I could no longer talk or laugh freely when he was by; because a tiresomely importunate instinct reminded me that vivacity (at least in me) was distasteful to him. I was so fully aware that only serious moods and occupations were acceptable, that in his presence every effort to sustain or follow any other became vain: I fell under a freezing spell. When he said “go,” I went! “come,” I came; “do this,” I did it. But I did not love my servitude: I wished many a time, he had continued to neglect me.
And she was poised to go with him to India when she knew her desire to please him (and stifle half of herself) would result in her premature death! No!
He basically says that if she doesn’t join him, she’s a terrible person and worse than an infidel (which is a flagrant misquote of the Bible reference. Way to go, clergyman.). On top of being a manipulating scumbag, he is longwinded and just plain unlikable.
All the other characters do a fine job, but does anyone else think the name Bertha should solely be reserved for prize winning pigs? Anyone?
Sometimes during the description, conversations and long inner monologues I zoned out and had to reread them. But some of the conversations still didn’t make complete sense. I feel like if I had read this when it was published, I’d find it an easy, yet lovely, read. Fast forward 170 years and I felt like a bit of an idiot trying to understand and follow their dialogue. Not to mention the untranslated French. I did learn some new words though (contumacy, diablerie, and badinage to name a few).
Overall it’s a good book and I enjoyed it…much more than Pride and Prejudice. There. I said it and I stand by it.
But the most important question is: Is it better than the 2006 tv adaptation?
…
…
Uhh…
…
Yes…?
Jane’s internal thoughts are very good but absent in the show; I especially love and support her opinions of Miss Ingram. The plot does drag at times, whereas the show skips merrily along. I do prefer Rochester in the show and St. John is less of a pain there too. But as is always the case, the book has a more intricate view of the story and Jane’s thoughts during them are half the fun. I will certainly reread it at some point.
Check out my rating here.
My review for Wuthering Heights.