JANE EYRE: THE MARRIAGEABLE WOMAN?
An essay regarding women's roles in nineteenth century courtship literature

It is a popular notion that most nineteenth century courtship novels end with a marriage of at least one of the protagonists. However, when one stops to consider the implications of such a marriage occurring, many questions rise to the surface. What happens after happily ever after? What happens to the sense of self? Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre explores the notion of both marriage and self, as experienced by Jane Eyre, as well as supporting characters Diana and Mary Rivers.

Firstly, one must consider exactly what self means. Jane has the opportunity to be more introspective than other women do, since her life is unlike that of the typified female. She is not coddled or spoiled by the people around her because she has no familial ties that one is aware of from the time she is child. If anything, Jane is despised as a child by her aunt, who considers her little more than a burden. For some, this animosity might weaken or damage the spirit. Jane, though clearly unhappy, never chooses this path. Instead her resolve to be her own person is a most important goal, to which she aspires even in youth. Jane is a pillar of strength, and that is what sets her apart from most of her contemporaries.

As a child, Jane exhibits several forms of her developing independent and spirited nature. One of these times occurs when she learns that she is leaving Gateshead, and will be completely abandoned by her aunt.

That eye of hers, that voice stirred every antipathy I had. Shaking from head to foot, thrilled with ungovernable excitement, I continued:- 'I am glad you are no relation of mine: I will never call you aunt again as long as I live. I will never come to see you when I am grown up; and if any one asks me how I liked you and how you treated me, I will say the very thought of you makes me sick, and that you treated me with miserable cruelty'
(Bronte 31).

It should be noted that Jane's behavior toward her aunt, while justifiable, almost seems unrealistic for a child of her age. She speaks as if she had the burden of maturing at an accelerated rate. Mrs. Reed is presented as an odious, weak-minded character, but her greatest crime lies in not allowing her ward to grow up in the manner her own children do. Jane is an outsider and is clearly treated as such.

Most children of this time period were not expected to defend themselves, verbally or otherwise. Jane goes against the grain because she must. Any other course for her would yield disastrous results. As a child, she has no rights. However, Jane's gender also works against her, and is part of what makes her shun the traditional child/adult relationship. Jane is very advanced for her age, and shunning what is expected of her is only reasonable.

As an adult, Jane is more capable of putting her well-defined sense of independence to use. Although governess is a typical profession for an unmarried woman, it was she who sought the position in the first place. Possibly she chose this course in order to avoid further dreariness and death at Lowood School. In any case, the inner Jane she carries with her to Thornfield has remained intact. She expresses herself through drawing, speaking French and playing the piano. Jane will be challenged yet again. One of these times occurs, interestingly enough, in the first attempt to leave Thornfield. In the first instance, Jane is summoned away to return to her dying aunt, the same one who neglected her so cruelly as a child. Although she is willing to make the journey, it is her employer, Rochester who tries to stop her. He assumes in this case the role of the patriarch. Jane, however, does not let him get the better of her. In standing her ground, seems more independent and in touch with her sense of self than ever.

'And what good can you do her? Nonsense, Jane! I would never think of running a hundred miles to see an old lady who will, perhaps, be dead before you reach her: besides, you say she cast you off...How long will you stay?'
'As short a time as possible, sir.'
'Promise me only to stay a week-'
'I had better not pass my word, I might be obliged to break it.' (Bronte 196)

Here, Jane is not asking for Rochester to give her leave. She is telling him of her imminent, if temporary, departure. In telling, rather than asking, she preserves her self-respect, sense of self-worth and independence. Any one of these qualities is rare in any female contemporary of Jane's, especially the latter. Having been deprived of the ability to retain these qualities as a child, she entirely embraces them in adulthood.

Jane is a woman who knows her own mind. That is, in essence, what defines her sense of self. She is not afraid to stand alone, if need be and often does so throughout the course of the novel. Society's conventions only allow her a certain amount of independence, and Jane Eyre utilizes every single ounce she can claim as her own.

Rochester acknowledges that his employee is essentially free to do as she pleases, but not without a bit of convincing. Initially he looks upon her as his property. To him, she is no more than a servant carrying out his commands. However, his opinion of Jane seems very prone to change. Once in his favor, Rochester begins to assert a bit of possessiveness. It is clear enough that he does not want Jane to leave him even for a short period of time. Even though sense wins out over sensibility, it is clear to the reader that Rochester is beginning to feel some ardor for the governess of his ward. His possessiveness is a sign of his feelings for her, which he seems to keep hidden with a thinly veiled restraint.

When Jane leaves Rochester for the second time, it is in order to retain her own self-worth rather than stay with a man who has manipulated and lied to her. His lies have been more than substantial. He has nearly committed bigamy and keeps his insane wife locked in his attic. In Rochester's favor, he does try to care for his wife instead of sending her to an asylum. Locked in a building filled with broken minds, Rochester's wife would fade away, as if she had never existed. Yet, it does not change the fact that Rochester has been lying to Jane the entire time he has known her.

In staying with him, Jane most certainly would have sacrificed her independence. Leaving him this second time is a frightening prospect, but the only one that could have a positive long-term outcome. Rochester may have believed that he was protecting Jane by concealing the knowledge of his first wife. Nothing could be further from the truth. Jane is not a child. She does not need the kind of protection Rochester offers. In attempting to protect her, Rochester only insults Jane's intelligence and forms a more solid, unyielding barrier around himself. What Jane doesn't know does hurt her, ultimately.

Amusing and convenient is the situation into which Jane catapults herself. Starving, she finds herself at the doorstep of the Rivers' family and soon discovers that they are related! Although this device of coincidence is more than a little ludicrous, it shall be set aside for the time being. The two sisters and brother form a most intriguing threesome. Here, is yet another tightly woven patriarchal structure. If the sisters are not cognizant of the fact, Jane certainly is.

As for me, I daily wished more to please [St. John]: but to do so, I felt daily more and more that I must disown half my nature, stifle half my faculties, wrest my tastes from their original bent, force myself to the adoption of pursuits for which I had no natural vocation. He wanted to train me to an elevation I could never reach; it racked me hourly to aspire to the standard he uplifted. The thing was as impossible as to mould my irregular features to his correct and classic pattern...(Bronte 351)

Jane could never find the kind of marriage that she needs in a familial structure such as this one. St. John views himself as more knowledgeable, spiritually and intellectually, than his sisters or Jane. Certainly Jane is looked upon as inferior to him. The most frightening aspect of these words is that Jane is beginning to believe them herself. If she were to marry St. John it would not only be a great mismatch, but also unbalanced. No scrap of Jane Eyre could remain in such a relationship. St. John doesn't view marriage as a partnership, but rather a teacher/student experience He expects that Jane will learn from him, but never the other way around.

To take on the role as missionary's wife would be arduous and demanding. Without the presence of love or affection the demanding aspects of the marriage could become destructive. Marriage could not be "completion" of either St. John or Jane. Neither loves the other. A second point of interest would be that since St. John believes himself superior to Jane in every way, he is also convinced of his own completion. At least, he believes himself to be closer to completion than Jane is. No successful marriage could come about between these two characters.

With Mary and Diana, the situation is slightly different. If St. John does not revere Jane as an intelligent human being, then surely he does not view his sisters this way either. These two sisters are more ready for the concept of a nineteenth century marriage. They are by no means, unintelligent women, but they seem more comfortable with what is expected of them in a male constructed society. They do not believe themselves capable of greatness. If they do not believe in themselves while they are single, how can they possibly grow and change in marriage? Marriage will be completion for them, for they do not consider themselves whole from the outset.

Of these two sisters, it is Diana who has the countenance of a more strong-willed woman. In hearing of St. John's proposal to Jane, she offers her this advice.

'Madness!' she exclaimed. 'You would not live three months there, I am certain...Think of the task you [will undertake]- one of incessant fatigue: where fatigue kills even the strong; and you are weak. St. John- you know him- would urge you to impossibilities: with him there would be no permission to rest during the hot hours; and unfortunately, I have noticed, whatever he exacts, you force yourself to perform. I am astonished you found courage to refuse his hand (Bronte 365).

Diana has broken away from convention only slightly, for she does at least recognize that a woman should not accept a proposal blindly. However, she also discusses marriage in terms one perceives as most unflattering. She likens St. John to a slavedriver, and Jane to a weakling, incapable of thinking for herself. The folly in this kind of union is more than apparent to Diana, but it appears that this is what she expects out of a marriage. She sees the rut a woman might easily fall into, but does nothing to break the barriers that are blocking Jane and herself. Diana shall live by the rules; for her, there is no other practical manner of going through the motions.

Mary, on the other hand, also accepts the conventional marriage, but in a manner unlike her sister. She does not indulge in the same kind of sober reflections that her sister does. Mary is not apt to voice her own opinions. She fits the image of a follower, and is content to merely be under the guidance of someone else.

Of all three women, Mary is best suited for the kind of marriage that would eventually be offered her. Her characteristics are well suited for it. Jane observes the following of Mary:

"Mary would sit and watch me by the hour together: then she would take lessons; and a docile, intelligent, assiduous pupil she made" (Bronte 308).

Here, is a description of a perfectly molded nineteenth century woman. Mary may educate herself, but only under the encouragement. While she remains single, it shall be her sister and brother. In marriage, it shall be her husband. She is viewed as an incomplete woman. She will only be made whole by the presence of a man.

The realization of the attitudes prevailing in the Rivers' household eventually sends Jane back to Rochester. The decision to finally marry Rochester is slightly confusing. Ambiguity hangs tauntingly overhead. Jane never makes it too clear as to whether she is marrying him for reasons of love, pity, an odd sense of duty, or a combination of all three elements. The reader knows Jane loved Rochester before she departed from Thornfield, so perhaps a considerable amount of that love still remains. She finds, in marriage, that all her attention is devoted to her husband. There is no time in Jane's life for anyone else.

I soon asked and obtained leave of Mr. Rochester to go and see [Adele] at the school where he had placed her. Her frantic joy at beholding me again moved me much. She looked pale and thin: she said she was not happy...I meant to become her governess once more; but soon found this impracticable; my time and cares were now required by another- my husband needed them all (Bronte 396).

Jane is no longer a free individual. There is no time to spare for herself or for Adele. She has instead become a nursemaid to Rochester's needs. She takes on a nurturing, affectionate role, but that is all. She has succumbed to the kind of marriage that is expected of her. Rochester has, through no fault of his own, become crippled. However, he does appear to be slightly self-pitying. He does nothing for himself, not seeming to believe himself capable.

Perhaps if Jane had married Rochester prior to the accident, their marriage could be a radical departure from nineteenth century courtship. At that point, each was capable of existing on their own terms. Each was a whole and complete individual. They complemented one another, but did not act as completion of the other person. Jane was able to enrich her soul and spirit, as was Rochester, if they so desired. As individuals they could have functioned as helpmeet to the other. Their marriage would have worked as a system of giving and taking, equally.

As the marriage stands now, this will never occur. Jane's time would be spent entirely in caring for her husband and leaving absolutely no time for herself. She will not fully develop the "self," as she would if she were free. Rochester needs her, but in a demanding, consuming sense. In needing constant care, Jane might easily see her identity become absorbed by Rochester when her sense of duty overtakes her. Her waking hours shall be engulfed with thought of only her husband. If she cannot find time for Adele, how can she possibly find time for even her own children? Even when Rochester regains his sight, he is still in need of Jane to act in a mothering way toward him. This is a responsibility she shall endure for the rest of the days she spends with Rochester.

In the point of possessing economic independence, Jane does have a certain freedom. Once she marries Rochester, however, the money is no longer hers alone. Considering Rochester's nature, the money shall most likely belong to them both. It shall be theirs, rather than merely his. In this sense, their marriage is a little unusual, in a positive way. In just about any other instance, the money would revert entirely to the husband's ownership.

Additionally, Jane does love Rochester. At this point, it is difficult to determine to what extent she loves him, and whether it outweighs the pity she feels is not made clear. In the love that does exist, Jane finds some recompense for having to look after Rochester. Their marriage is by no means destructive, but it is not advancement in an age where nursemaid is also an appropriate synonym for wife.

In the final pages of the novel, we also discover that Mary and Diana have finally married. Each of their marriages meets, and even goes beyond, all expectations.

Diana and Mary Rivers are both married: alternately, once every year, they come to see us, and we go to see them. Diana's husband is a captain in the navy; a gallant officer and a good man. Mary's is a clergyman: a college friend of her brother's; and from his attainments and principles, worthy of the connection...Both Captain Fitzjames and Mr. Wharton love their wives, and are loved by them. (Bronte 398).

Mary's husband turns out to be no more than one would expect. Here is a typical teacher/pupil relationship. It confirms the suspicion that Rich's statements are true as they pertain to Mary. She has, strangely enough, chosen a man in the same profession as her brother. Additionally, he is the sort of man who can guide Mary and instruct her. Although her character is less defined than Diana's, the reader is given the assumption that she is pleased with her marriage, and expects little more than what she already has. She certainly cares for her husband, but she will probably have less opportunity to guide than to be guided. She is a woman, eager to learn, but her relationship would prove to be of an unequal standing.

Diana's situation is once again different, although she too, works within the confines of convention. She has married someone who will not often be present. While he is at sea, Diana will have the opportunity to be reflective, to improve herself and nurture her "self". She too, enters into a marriage with a sum of money. If her marriage proves conventional, then she shall lose that economic independence. For Diana, however, it may very easily seem a fair trade. Even if she is not on completely equal terms with her husband, she has more freedom than both Jane or Mary will have. Having the opportunity to look inward, if she so decides, shall prove to be eminently more satisfying than the role of pupil or nurse. Her present conditions have superseded her original expectations.

Endnotes - Bronte, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. Pleasantville: The Reader's Digest Association Inc., 1984.