Jane Eyre: A Revisionist Reading by Bertha Mason

A literary satire piece . . .

INTRODUCTION / ABSTRACT:

This re-reading of Jane Eyre, authored by the novel’s antagonist, Bertha Mason, calls into question many narrative elements that were easily accepted in 1847 at the time of its publication. Primarily, the author argues that labeling her a “mad lunatic” with a “pygmy intellect” serves to cloak the more troubling power dynamics in the text and to de-center the fact that she is being held against her will by her husband in an attic. It is the author’s hope that in 2025, with emerging sensitivities to mental health care, systemic racism (her Creole heritage is tacitly critiqued), and the psychological ramifications of hostage-taking situated within the context of trauma theory, the reading public will be more open to alternate interpretations of the author’s character. Additionally, this reading recruits contemporary psychology to address relationship dynamics such as gaslighting, passive-aggression, and the toxicity of locking up first wives in attics.

METHODS:

The data I analyze in this paper comes from empirical research conducted from my vantage point in the attic, where I had literally nothing to do but eavesdrop for 10 years, again while I was being held hostage in the attic by my husband. For ten years. How on earth have I ended up being the “problem” in this story?

RESULTS AND ANALYSIS:

For the sake of examining what really happened back in 1847, I ask the reader to consider just two scenes between my husband, Edward Rochester, and the novel’s heroine, Jane Eyre. I trust you will find both illuminating.

Example 1, Rochester and Jane’s initial meeting:

Rochester invites Jane to join him for tea-time but then ignores her completely when she arrives, gazing instead at his dog, Pilot. When Jane tries to engage him, he acts irritated that she’s even there and proceeds to needle her about everything from her piano-playing, which he himself had requested, to his sprained ankle, which he received from falling off his own horse, an incident he claims happened because Jane “bewitched” the horse from afar (WTF).

He then interrogates Jane about her paintings. She complies and patiently responds to his inquiries, after which he blames HER for keeping his young ward, Adele, up too late, and abruptly dismisses them both.

This manipulative and toxic behavior serves to destabilize Jane, making her question her own sanity and estimation of the scenario. I suspect all women have been there at one time or another.

Example 2, Scene in which Rochester tells Jane he will marry the beautiful Blanche Ingram and then in the space of that same conversation proposes to Jane (while still being married to me, FWIW):

By this point in the book, Jane has fallen in love with Rochester, for reasons I don’t understand, probably because she’s a victim of gaslighting. I think he has borderline personality disorder.

In this scene, Rochester lures Jane to him by inviting her to inspect a moth he has caught (weird tactic, but it works on her — she’s 18). He then asks her if she likes living at Thornfield Hall, and she says yes, yes, she is very attached!, to which he basically responds, “Too bad! Get out! [paraphrasing here], I will marry the beautiful Blanche Ingram!” In a dazzling pivot within that same conversation he then likens his upcoming marriage to a “sacred noose,” calls Blanche “an armful,” and then directly after fat-shaming her begins to fetishize her fatness by saying “one can’t have too much of such a very excellent thing.”

From there he mocks Jane for being interested in moths (projection–HE’s the moth ogler) and then, bafflingly, segues immediately into a marriage proposal–to Jane. When she slightly hesitates, he insists that if she doesn’t marry him he is in danger of “bleeding inwardly.” Then, suddenly and without any logical reasoning whatsoever, Rochester and Jane together decide that God Himself has sanctioned their engagement to be married, while I, from my attic, question how God could even keep up with these maniacs.

Clearly, these two are both drama llamas, but because of the power dynamic, I believe we must hold Rochester more responsible.

DISCUSSION:

I could continue–I could dismantle the claims of my being “feeble minded” by juxtaposing them against the claims of my being “cunning as a witch.” I could reveal that the fire that burned Thornfield Hall to the ground was never even investigated. I could explain how it was just assumed that I set it, which seems like a pretty big leap given that the master of the house has a history of anger management problems, violent behavior, and pathological lying, but whatever– it was the 1840s.

The bottom line of this revisionist reading is that, stacked up against all the rollercoaster insanity of Rochester and Jane’s relationship, I did exactly two verifiable “crazy” things over the course of the whole book: I once bit Rochester on the face, which was self-defense–once again he was holding me hostage in an attic; and I once stood on top of the roof of Thornfield — because it was on fire.

I’ll conclude this reading by employing an outside source, the words of Taylor Swift, who is a more contemporary “Mad Woman.” Swift asks, “Every time you call me crazy / I get more crazy / What about that?”

What about that? I’m just saying it’s worth some thought.