Jane Eyre: A Cinderella Story

Jane Eyre is the story of an orphan who overcomes that barrier and makes a name for herself later in her life. Jane did not have much, if any support from her relatives or anyone she met, and therefore Jane often spent much of her childhood and adulthood within her own imagination, her only refuge from the cruel world outside her mind. This "second self," which Germans call a "dopplegänger, is what helps Jane become a successful woman. By putting herself within her own imagination, Jane finds a way to cope with her unfortunate circumstances, and that avenue allows her to grow as a person in ways that she might not otherwise discover if she took circumstances in her life for what they are, rather than what they could be.

Jane's entire double-life within the real world and the worlds she reads about in such novels as Gulliver's Travels and Arabian Tales creates an interesting parallel between it and the fictitious lives of other heroines in fairy tales like Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel, Sleeping Beauty, and others. In these stories, those heroines were thrust into just as unfortunate a situation as Jane was in the novel's beginning. Charlotte Brontë plays with this parallels through her choices of language throughout the novel, the setting (and those choices stemming from its description, and even how Brontë describes some of the characters, like Rochester.

In the opening pages of the novel, I felt that the scenes at the Reed house seemed to mirror the same feelings and attitudes that the fable of Cinderella told. First of all, there are 3 children, Eliza, John, and Georgiana, opposite the orphan Jane, as there are three "wicked stepchildren" within the house that Cinderella was expected to care for. A few scenes into Jane Eyre, Jane narrates that she was "humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority" (6) to those three children, whom, like the three wicked stepsisters of Cinderella's, constantly chided Jane and were quite nasty to her altogether. The fact that Jane believes that she is humbled by their presence is perhaps of no surprise, seeing as Jane is well aware that she is an orphan and not technically part of the Reed family. But, I felt that this realization is two-fold, the first fold being that she is humbled by them.

But it does not end there. Jane is humbled, yes, but it is the realization that she is not quite of the same level that the three children are that interests me. I think that because she realizes that she is of lower class than the Reed family, this allows her more of the ability to be able to consider her actions and thoughts toward them, rather than being part of that higher class that only cares for themselves and perhaps does not take into account the value of foresight. This idea that the Reeds are knowingly of higher class than Jane, and therefore exploit that knowledge consistently can be seen in the scene on page six of the novel, where the children are able to participate in a gathering around their mother, Mrs. Reed. Jane is an orphan and nothing else in the eyes of Mrs. Reed, and therefore at this moment, she decides to exclude Jane until she endeavoured "in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition" so she could then be more like the "contented, happy little children" by the side of Mrs. Reed (6).

At this point, I felt that Brontë's story mirrored the story of Cinderella simply because of the introduction of a character, Mrs. Reed, and her close resemblance, in terms of attitude and behavior, to the infamous "wicked stepmother" in Cinderella's tale. That particular character in Cinderella never gave her a chance at anything, no opportunity to explain her thoughts and feelings, just as Jane is ripped of these opportunities to become a grown child, even a human being on the same level as the Reeds. Furthermore, not long after Jane is excluded from the evening with Mrs. Reed and her children, Jane is sentenced to what Mrs. Reed called the "red room," whereby she was locked up without explanation or second chance to gain the trust of the Reed children and Mrs. Reed. Here again, the story of Jane Eyre closely mimics that of Cinderella, as she too was deprived of opportunity and locked up in her own dungeon. But like Cinderella, Jane Eyre maintains that aura of someone who, while she may not be physically sound or socially acceptable to the standards of the time, she maintains that mental composure that undoubtedly makes her a very effective heroine in the story, a composure that also serves to remind readers that it is her mind that is going to get Jane toward her goal of actually being seen rather than being heard, which is what we readers hope for with Jane.

When Jane first comes to Lowood, I felt that perhaps Brontë used the sad place to serve as a real-world extension of the designed "red room," because Jane's feelings seem much the same; feelings of disorientation, fear, and utter sadness at this place which, like the red room, seems only like a place where people put all the orphans they can find who seem no better off there than where they lived before, as is the case with Jane and her original establishment at the Reed's home. The fact that the "red room" even has a name seems to me to imply that it has a purpose, that purpose being to house children who seem unruly to their caretakers, but perhaps are not truly "bad" children. Lowood seems to feel much like the same kind of place, at least at first.

But then Jane meets and befriends Helen Burns, a fellow orphan. It is that point at which I believe Lowood ceases being an extension of the dreaded "red room" at the Reed home, and becomes an avenue for which Jane can perhaps further her life, if only within her own mind. However, since Jane relies so heavily upon her thoughts and imagination to allow her some freedom within the tight walls of England's social class, this realization with the help of Helen Burns and her treatment of Jane seems all the more plausible. Jane's quest for a more meaningful life continues and grows in strength and potential when she tells Helen that she lives by a different creed than Helen, one that "extends hope to all: it makes Eternity a rest-a mighty home, not a terror and an abyss" (59).

This connection between hope and imagination seems to me to be part of that creed by which Jane lives. Later, Jane's growth away from being mentally-burdened by her orphan life continues when, in one moment, she takes some time to consider what she truly wants out of life: "a new place, in a new house, amongst new faces, under new circumstances", and she realizes that she "wants this because it is of no use wanting anything better" (87). Jane knows that she doesn't need to have the same life as the Reeds, but instead can live more happily than now with just those things she mentioned. Moments later she figures out that the one way to step toward getting those things is to try and make herself available to people who have already acquired those things, like, as she discovers later, Mrs. Fairfax and Mr. Rochester at Thornfield Hall.

For what the fairy tale tells us a place where opportunities live in tandem with perceived barriers and challenges is, Thornfield Hall is that place. Just looking at the kinds of language that emerge from the simple name, Brontë allows readers to delve even further into their own imaginations right alongside Jane, with her descriptions of Thornfield Hall, and the images we ourselves conjure up in relation to her choice names. When we as readers picture these certain images in our minds with the help of Brontë, we then bring ourselves more into the story, and, as may happen with fairy tales, we may be able to better understand the emotions of the characters, because as we feel certain things in conjunction with the ways Brontë purposely names places like Thornfield Hall, the characters themselves may feel much of what we readers feel.

For example, if we examine Thornfield Hall, we may think of the differences between "thorn" and "field," and what each name does to further the story Brontë is telling us, and how each name plays into the idea of a fairy tale-like narrative. "Thorn" should make readers think of ideas like brambles, which for me then makes me think of barriers and perhaps a challenge. While Brontë doesn't specifically mention brambles in the story, the idea of barriers and challenges certainly comes into play. Jane, for example, must overcome certain barriers and challenges when she arrives at Thornfield Hall. As she spends days there and upon her initial arrival, she must win the superficial approval of her employer, Mr. Rochester. Given Rochester's countenance, this begins as quite a challenge for Jane. In the moment when Jane first arrives, she is out walking the grounds, and Rochester comes upon her riding his horse. He sees Jane, and momentarily loses focus and falls with his horse, hurting himself slightly. He asks Jane for help, and while she tries, each exchange glances, and I felt that an initial connection was made. But, upon overcoming this challenge and gaining his initial approval, her quest is not yet over. She must then continue to work hard to gain his respect and trust. I think that the moment when she gains his trust happened when Bertha set part of his bedroom on fire, and Jane senses something and goes into save Rochester from death. After that moment, I noticed Rochester treating Jane differently. Just afterward, Rochester realizes that Jane only has good intentions, and for that one moment, his hard demeanor softens as he says "I feel your benefits no burden, Jane" (154). Furthermore, in this moment Jane's opinion of Rochester begins to change, and her strong mind is able to sense something in Rochester at this moment she had not before. She notices that "words almost visible trembled on his lips" (154) but that he resisted saying them, no doubt words of fancy toward Jane. Jane internalizes these unsaid feelings that night as she tosses and turns with a heart full of trouble and joy.

While Thornfield Hall presents many challenges to Jane's character, all is not as bleak as it may seem. The name Thornfield could also play off the idea of a field, and what that could mean to readers. Ideas and people may be somewhat more abrupt and sharp at Thornfield, but there seems to also be plenty of opportunity at Thornfield Hall.

When I thought about this idea of possibility and opportunity, then, I began to think about the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty. Not only does Thornfield Hall, in its medieval and ancient sense make me think of a giant castle, but in the tale of Sleeping Beauty, the prince's quest lay inside the castle, just as Jane's opportunities and possibilities that could lead to a better life lay mostly within the walls at Thornfield. Readers of the tale of Sleeping Beauty already know that when the prince came to the large foreboding tower where she lay, they already knew what he must do in order to break the spell Sleeping Beauty was under. Like the prince, Jane too has already gained some insight and character into her own quest, and knowing that, she works toward completing her quest with those ideas in mind.

Sleeping Beauty isn't the only fairy tale that comes to mind when I think about Jane Eyre and her time at Thornfield Hall. It seemed to me that Jane's journey to Thornfield may have similarities to the story of Hansel and Gretel. While Jane is a single person, I think that the idea of Jane's "second self" could parallel the story in an interesting way. I felt that the two selves of Jane, the physical self of Jane and the self which spends so much time within imagination, left clues along her entire journey, from Lowood all the way to Thornfield, for readers to discover that would help guide us into better understanding Jane and why she makes the decisions she makes.

The next part of Jane's quest to discover her new self finds Jane at Marsh End, St. John's world. When one thinks of a marsh, we may think of being sucked into it, whether by its mystery, or quite literally by the muck and mud which waits for us. I felt that Jane was strongly attracted to Marsh End, and Brontë describes it in such a way that I felt the same as Jane did. While there, St. John slowly seems to drain Jane of her character which she had been so careful to uphold, much like the mud and overgrown plant life of a real marsh drains an area of its resources which it needs to survive. St. John, because he is so confident and aware of the strength of his own faith, threatens Jane's faith and forces her to question it, as she realizes when she says "...but I began to feel he had spoken truth of himself, that he was hard and cold" (399) thereby allowing for the possibility that Jane may make the poorer decision in haste, and lose track of her quest to discover herself. At this point, I felt that there were a couple ideas that Brontë seemed to play with in terms of the idea of a marsh. In a marsh there are many pathways, just like at this point in Jane's life she too has many decisions to make, all of which could lead her exactly where she wants to go, but because of the mystery and fogginess of her life in these moments at Marsh end, she cannot be sure of the true destinations of those pathways. She may end up where she wants, or she could just as easily fail and end up wallowing in the mud of her own downfall because she made hasty decisions. However, Jane, because of her unfailing strong will, smartly rejects St. John's proposal to stay at Marsh End, thinking to herself that he "would hardly make a good husband" (399) because of his unfailing interest in himself, and thus can continue her true quest.

The last place Jane finds is Ferndean, which to me played with many different ideas. When I think of a fern, I think of life that is renewed and stronger than it was before, and also life that has had much experience and can hold fast and survive no matter what. At this point in the story, I felt that Brontë is eluding to exactly those ideas in Jane's life, contrary to what she writes that Jane thinks: "Can there be life here?" (438). Jane is drawn to Ferndean, and there she finds Rochester, the old love that has indeed held true to her, even though her love is indeed torn and tattered and beaten down. But like the fern, Rochester stands fast to his true feelings and true self, and never gave up on Jane. It is here at Ferndean that Jane discovers her true self, a self that cannot live without its other piece, Rochester. In Ferndean Jane discovers renewed love, but she also has reached the pinnacle of her quest, renewed life. So it would seem that Jane's question is answered. There CAN be life here.

Works Cited

Bronte, Charlotte. "Jane Eyre." Penguin Group, 1997.