Eyre End Towards an Appropriate

Eyre End

Towards an Appropriate Ending for Jane Eyre: The Anti-Hero's Faith in Principle and Law

Jane Eyre is almost epic in scope despite the deeply personal focus and perspective of the novel, incorporating themes of enormous scale and certain trajectories that are millennia in the making. Strong religious symbolism and the direct appearance of religion in a variety of forms permeates the text, and commentary on British history and social practices can also be found in the larger plot structures of the novel and in many of the seemingly trivial activities Jane has in her day-to-day life. While the central story appears to be that of Jane's struggle to carve out her own space in the world and to find a life that allows for the fullest expression of her own identity and drives, and indeed the action begins and almost culminates with Jane's narration of her life from childhood through to the birth of her first child, there is far more going on for the speaker, the author, and the reader than the coming-of-age story of a girl in uniquely trying circumstances. The larger themes and trajectories of the novel are of great importance to its structure and to the choices Charlotte Bronte made in choosing her characters and the timing and style of their representation.

To find evidence of the larger meaning and importance of the novel that extends beyond Jane Eyre's own version of discovery and identity formation/fulfillment, one need look no further than the last lines of the novel. The action comes to a close when Jane returns to Mr. Rochester, marries him, and bears him a son as he begins to regain his sight; she has found fulfillment in her love and in her new role as a mother (not to mention with her fortune and livelihood now secured), and all the problems of the past have been laid to rest and made way for a solid and certain future. But though the action ends here, the narration does not; after delivering the last of her news, Jane goes on to relate the fortunate marriages off her cousins Diana and Mary, and closes with a longer description of St. John's solitary yet strong-hearted work as a missionary in India. The very last lines of the novel are taken from a letter St. John wrote to Jane, the last letter (she is certain) she will ever receive from him, detailing his eager waiting of Jesus' return. This closing letter and the paragraphs preceding it seem to extend Jane's story, and appear necessary to wrap up some of the larger themes embedded in the novel. A close reading of this passage reveals the ultimate religious, colonial and even the personal statements Bronte was making in her choice of conclusions

Faith and Martyrdom

One of the central struggles in the novel is that between love and autonomy, with Jane seeking a life that is able to afford her the greatest measure of both and that is also socially and morally acceptable. Both social and moral acceptance hinge upon certain religious beliefs and mandates, and for Jane -- largely due to Rochester's own circumstances until their change at the close of the novel -- the path of love means a path of denying these beliefs or breaking these mandates, and this is not something she is able to reconcile with herself. Though she refuses to marry Rochester (or to live with him as a wife without a legal marriage) and St. John, she is not truly choosing autonomy over love, but rather she is refusing a love without principle on one hand and a life without the possibility of love on the other. She recognizes in St. John a supreme morality and goodness, but no love, noting that she "felt a veneration for St. John" but that "to have yielded now would have been an error of judgment" as she knew there was no true love between them (p. 294). She admires St. John in principle, however, and even seems to feel a certain lack in herself for not being able to live up to the same heights of principle, evincing both regret and pride in St. John as her receiving his final letter "drew from my eyes human tears, and yet filled my heart with divine joy" (p. 343). Her faith in principle and in St. John was not strong enough to lead her to the martyr's life, but she acknowledges is a definite appreciation for its potential throughout the book and her long periods of quiet suffering.

While Jane's reflection on her own attitude is of course important to understanding the novel's conclusion, it is the very last lines of the novel, the text from St. John's letter, that makes the importance of this interpretation and the need to trace its trajectory in the novel so compelling: "My Master…has forewarned me. Daily He announces more distinctly, -- 'Surely I come quickly!' And hourly I more eagerly respond, -- 'Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus!'" (p. 344). St. John is actively working towards the culmination of millennia of religious effort that he feels to be imminent, a sentiment that Jane seems in full agreement with. She celebrates his ongoing efforts and his success, but more than that Jane -- and Bronte -- cannot conclude the tale any way but with this last sign of ultimate faith on their and St. John's parts. Though Jane could not help but choose to live a life that gave her personal fulfillment and that provided a vent for her passions, she implicitly (and at times explicitly) recognizes the virtue of St. John's calling and of a more complete faith and sense of sacrifice generally.

Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar note that St. John has a "blatantly patriarchal name" and argue that he serves as a symbol of the last system of rules and authority that Jane must escape to find herself (p. 365). While this may be true to some extent, it is also clear that Jane's happiness is not complete in having her passions fulfilled, but that she perceive and contribute to some moral goodness -- some principle of preserving and propagating faith -- in order for her story to conclude completely. There is even a certain arrogance here, with Jane connecting herself to the end times and the second coming of Christ, but much greater is the sense of satisfaction that this greater trajectory exists and can be reflected upon. Both narrator and author give the religious element of the story centrality through Jane's repeated martyrdom, which has long been the feminine foil of the Christian patriarchy (Joan of Arc being the most obvious and extreme example) -- her denial of Rochester and his offered jewels and other luxuries, her initial time at Lowood (and the near purgatory of the post-Brockhurst years there, as well), and her time as a poor and dependent schoolteacher -- and its culmination in St. John's work in India and his hastening of the savior, that ultimate martyr, appears at the end of the novel to signal this centrality (Zonana).

Law and Empire

St. John also represents more than religious progress, devotion, and sacrifice, however. Jane's personal connection to these aspects of St. John's character and what he symbolizes are quite strong, and certainly stronger than her nationalistic or imperialist tendencies, it cannot be denied that there is an imperialist element to St. John's character and that Jane Eyre both recognizes and approves of this aspect, as well. Again, there is the sense that Jane needs something extending far beyond herself in order to achieve true satisfaction, though in this case it has nothing to do with personal contribution to morality but to the collective good that she is an automatic part of through her country of origin. Susan L. Meyer notes a strong colonialist strain running through Charlotte Bronte's work, and though Meyer focuses more on the strategic elements of colonialism's presence in the plots of Jane Eyre and other texts her analysis also makes it clear that, while such off-shore adventures are not actually for her heroine, they are admirable and proper in their own right.

St. John is nothing if not admirable and proper (too much so for Jane's taste), and his trekking off to India to spread the word of God is a sign of the forward march of British civilization, as though Jane's personal satisfaction opened the doors for this conquest to begin in earnest. In relaying this news to the reader, Jane waxes poetic and manages to both forgive herself for not accompanying St. John on his life-long pilgrimage and to show again her veneration for her British intrepidness by listing his faults as though they were boons to his purpose, as well they might have been: "He may be stern; he may be exacting; he may be ambitious yet; but his is the sternness of the warrior Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from the onslaught of Apollyon" (p. 343). This same pious fellow who reports in his letter that he hears God announcing His approach is also the picture of imperial majesty, brave, stern, and exacting, and of course only working for the betterment of those he is bringing into his empire. St. John's rousing finale allows the work to finish as it almost physically completes a conquering of Jane's secular world, as well.

The celebratory nature of Jane's (and apparently Charlotte Bronte's) attitude towards imperialism is off-putting to some scholars, who find Jane Eyre and other "women's texts" to be a feminist re-appropriation of imperial ideals and mechanisms, and it must certainly be acknowledged that Jane is only able to exalt fully in this image of British dominance when she herself has found the freedom she sought and that was so long denied her as a woman (Spivak, p. 243). More important than the timing of Jane's joy, however, is the fact that the joy itself exists at all. It is perhaps easier to conduct a reading of Jane Eyre that finds fault with colonial and imperial tendencies, as the most evident struggle in the novel is Jane's struggle for her own freedom form the patriarchal and imperialistic forces of first her cousin and then Brockhurst, Rochester, and St. John. When it comes to actually spreading British Christendom, though, Jane is in full support and in fact she cannot achieve her full measure of satisfaction until this feat is underway and meeting with success. No longer the "abstraction" of herself that she was when she first encountered St. John, Rochester's love and now St. John's service and extension of her own sentiments into the heart of foreign and savage lands give her completion and concrete identity, with the latter more lasting element eclipsing even the news of her son (Marcus, 206). St. John's imperialist endeavors make Jane real, in a sense, and through his abundance of effort St. John allows her to rest or at least remain stationary in her own life, quietly cared for in England.