Bertha Mason: Madwoman or Oppressed Woman in Jane Eyre

Introduction: Jane, Rochester, and the Question of Dependency

"Why, Jane, what would you have? ... You will stipulate, I see, for peculiar terms — what will they be?" "I only want an easy mind, sir ... I shall continue to act as Adele's governess; by that I shall earn my board and lodging, and thirty pounds a year besides. I'll furnish my own wardrobe out of that money, and you shall give me nothing but —" "It is your time now, little tyrant, but it will be mine presently: and when once I have fairly seized you, to have and to hold, I'll just — figuratively speaking — attach you to a chain like this" (touching his watch-guard).

In this brief but telling exchange, the reader sees that Jane Eyre, after unwillingly allowing Rochester to buy her some new clothes, has grown uncomfortable with her changing status and imminent heightened dependency on him. He insists she must have six new dresses, which she does not want. She persuades him to purchase only two, but he then announces he will choose them himself. Jane is unwilling to become completely dependent upon him. She does not want Rochester to dress her "like a doll" (p. 297).

She thinks, "If I had ever so small an independency, if I had but a prospect of one day bringing Mr. Rochester an accession of fortune, I could better endure to be kept by him now" (p. 297). We can conjecture that Rochester's relationship with his first wife Bertha probably started in a similar manner — with attraction, excitement, affection, and generosity. Probably, he bought Bertha all new clothing too and lavished gifts upon her. Perhaps Bertha did not feel that her identity was threatened until it was too late, and she was already married to him. This essay argues that Bertha was not insane, but an oppressed and possibly abused woman who refused to submit to the societal norms of nineteenth-century patriarchal society.

When we meet Bertha in the story, she is nearly always off-stage. She no longer uses language but is heard expressing herself in gurgling, moaning, and demonic laughter. On the night Bertha tries to kill Rochester by setting his bed on fire, Jane hears "a snarling, snatching sound, almost like a dog quarreling." Because Bertha has been so completely silenced, she cannot tell her side of the story, and we can only see her through the eyes and behavior of others.

Bertha and Rochester: Mirror Images

Rodas (2003) suggests that instead of seeing the madwoman as Jane's "alter ego" who acts out Jane's secret fantasies, it would be more fruitful to see Bertha as a reflection of her husband Edward Rochester. She points out that Rochester "may be seen as the distorted image of the lunatic," sharing the same hirsute body, flowing black hair, olive skin, full nostrils, and "flexible looking mouth." Rochester is considered an ugly man and, as Rodas notes, "identifies himself with a variety of unpleasant creatures," such as gnome, ogre, ghoul, and scoundrel. Bertha likewise is continually portrayed as animalistic.

It is not only physically that Bertha and Rochester are similar — their personalities also bear striking resemblances. Rochester has a violent and moody disposition and a history of sexual self-indulgence with several women whom he afterwards found disgusting. Furthermore, he characterizes Bertha as having "a nature wholly alien" to his own, "a cast of mind common, low, narrow, and singularly incapable of being led to anything higher, expanded to anything larger" (p. 333). However, Zonama (1993) suggests that Rochester himself is little more than a despot, "a man who has bought women [and] is willing to become a bigamist."

Unsubstantiated Allegations and Rochester's Unreliability

Rochester attributes his own proclivities to Bertha in what psychologists might call a denial and projection of his own faults onto another — the logic being, "I am not the evil one; she is." The particular characteristics he projects onto her — sexual appetite, unpredictable moods, and anger — are especially intolerable in a Victorian woman. Whereas such traits might be excused in a man as eccentricity or a passing phase ("sowing wild oats"), the Victorian mind found them disgusting and revolting in a woman, marking her as "fallen," a social pariah and outcast.

Having said this, Anderson (2004) points out that "the allegations of Bertha's lacking both temperance and chastity remain unsubstantiated." We have only Rochester's testimony, and he cannot be depended upon to be entirely truthful. In fact, we know he is a liar — as a potential bigamist, his deceptions extend to a criminal degree.

Bertha as Jane's Future: Parallels and Warnings

If Bertha is not assumed to be Jane's alter ego, then what is the connection between the two? Bertha is inarticulate, imprisoned, and hopeless. Perhaps Bertha represents Jane's future after she marries Rochester in the sham wedding ceremony he has planned. Both women have loved Rochester enough to marry him. If Rochester mistreats Jane — and he does — then it is likely he mistreated Bertha as well, though he denies ever having been cruel to her. His mistreatment of Jane could very well escalate to more serious abuse after they are married and she becomes his "property." Jane has a history of childhood abuse and likely carries unresolved issues stemming from it, which may factor into her attraction to Rochester. It is therefore plausible that he will abuse her, just as he likely abused Bertha. Jane believes her influence will change him and make him a better person — perhaps Bertha believed the same, and failed to bring about any improvement.

When Jane first met Rochester, he showed a strong interest in her as a person. He did not ask whether she could cook, clean, or sew. He wanted to know about her family, to hear her play the piano, and to examine her drawings — compelling expressions of her essential selfhood. She has reason to believe, therefore, that he values her intellectual and artistic capacities rather than her domesticity. Probably, Bertha thought the same, especially since Rochester himself admits: "I was dazzled, stimulated; my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her." Probably Bertha never imagined that Rochester would try to press her into a mould and expect her to perform the role of the ideal Victorian woman.

Conclusion: Mad, but Not Crazy

The ideal Victorian woman was a near-impossible model of saintliness. She perfectly controlled her emotions and never complained or raised her voice. She was obedient and never criticized or contradicted her husband even when she knew him to be wrong. Rebellion was unthinkable. She was ever cheerful and patient. If she were abused, she tolerated it without complaint. She was pious, Bible-reading, and devoted in her faith. Her whole life took place within the confines of her home, and all her interests were domestic. She was pure — free of any hint of sexual thoughts or feelings — while simultaneously compliant and dutiful in accommodating her husband's "baser instincts."

Because Bertha was more like Rochester than she was like the ideal Victorian woman, she represented a danger to him and to society. Uncontrolled and uninhibited in her manners and habits, she had to be restrained. Because she willingly engaged in sexual activity and made demands, society declared her "mad." She was not sufficiently domestic to keep an orderly home for her husband. She probably did not attend church, let alone pray and read the Bible. When she was restrained, she became angry and fought back with all her will, strength, and energy. This was her undoing in nineteenth-century society.

Bertha was mad, all right — but not necessarily crazy.

References

Anderson, J. Z. (2004). Angry angels: Repression, containment, and deviance in Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre. Retrieved from http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/bronte/cbronte/anderson1.html

Donaldson, E. J. (2002). The corpus of the madwoman: Toward a feminist disability studies theory of embodiment and mental illness. NWSA Journal, 14(3).

Great Books Foundation: Jane Eyre. Retrieved from

Logan, D. (1998). Fallenness in Victorian women's writing: Marry, stitch, die, or do worse. London: University of Missouri Press.

Martin, C. (1983). An angel in the house. Midwest Quarterly, 24, 297–314.

Rodas, J. M. (2003). Brontë's Jane Eyre. Explicator, 61(3), 149–151.

Su, J. J. (2003). "Once I would have gone back ... but not any longer": Nostalgia and narrative ethics in Wide Sargasso Sea. Critique, 44(2), 157–174.

Waller, D. G. (2004). Avoiding dangerous sexuality in Jane Eyre. Retrieved from http://www.victorianweb.org

Welter, B. (1966). The cult of true womanhood. American Quarterly Review, 18, 151–174.

Zonama, J. (1993). The sultan and the slave: Feminist orientalism and the structure of Jane Eyre. In V. A. Clark et al. (Eds.), Revising the word and the world: Essays in feminist literary criticism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.