Morality and Happiness in Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre is an independent, rational heroine who braves physical hardship and social disapproval to make the right decisions for herself.

This is not a review. See why.

Context

Jane Eyre, an orphan, grew up being made to feel like a burden on her wealthy aunt and cousins. But Jane refused to simply lie down and take their cruelty, instead speaking up for herself by referring to the inconvenient facts of their treatment of her. Rather than adjust her own behavior, when Jane was ten her aunt decided to send her away to a strict boarding school. There Jane learned a lot, and after six years she became a teacher, though the rigidity and monotony at times bothered her. When the head teacher, a dear friend, married and left the school, Jane decided to seek a position as a governess, which would enable her to see more than the small corner of the world she’d been exposed to thus far. She ends up at Thornfield, teaching the ward of the enigmatic Mr. Rochester. She enjoys this situation, though it is eventually interrupted when she must make a choice regarding her relationship with Mr. Rochester after dark secrets are revealed.

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Key Ideas (Overall evaluation: very good)

• Happiness depends on behaving morally

• Living well requires using reason and acknowledging emotions

• Engaging with your interests makes hardships easier to bear

Happiness depends on behaving morally

Jane Eyre is the story of an independent young woman creating her own identity through a series of choices, big and small. The novel’s drama comes mainly from the key decisions Jane makes, and one element stands out in each decision she makes: She always consciously considers what would be the morally right thing to do in her situation. Moreover, she does this not out of a sense of blind duty; in her reflections on her decisions, she explains that if she behaved immorally, she would not be able to experience deep, lasting happiness. As she puts it at one point, she will feel better if she is poor, honest, and free than “a slave in a fool’s paradise” (238, Kindle edition).

Despite the rigid social norms of 19th-century England in which the book was written and set, Jane Eyre makes clear that “Conventionality is not morality. . . . To attack the first is not to assail the last,” as the author herself put it in the introduction to the second edition. In fact, in his pursuit of happiness Mr. Rochester seems to throw off conventionality entirely, though never morality. When he’s trying to persuade Jane to make a big decision that many would disapprove of (though Jane does not yet know the full context), he says, “For the world’s judgment—I wash my hands thereof. For man’s opinion—I defy it” (168). Later, when Jane fully understands the situation, he implores her “to transgress a mere human law, no man being injured by the breach” (209). Mr. Rochester does not lack a conscience, but in his desperation to be happy, he eagerly discards conventionality and, in Jane’s view, improperly disregards morality in the process. (A large part of the dilemma he finds himself in is a result of the laws of the time.)

Jane herself, willing to act against others’ opinions when she deems it right, demonstrates the importance of morality through a positive example: She acts in accordance with her principles—always. Even when it is difficult in the short term, she knows it will benefit her in the long term. So she clings to them when it’s time to make a difficult decision; at one such point, she tells herself:

Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth? (209)

Integrity, not social conformity, is what’s at stake here, and Jane knows what matters to her even though her emotions at the time make it difficult for her to act accordingly. But she later reflects that she made the right choice, knowing she would never be happy if she broke her own moral code.

Living well requires using reason and acknowledging emotions

A recurring idea throughout the novel is the contrast between a rationalistic, rigid, pious, duty-bound lifestyle and a more passionate, freespirited, emotionalistic one—but Jane, in the end, chooses the path that harmonizes reason and emotions. This split and resolution occurs in multiple characters’ choices and actions throughout the novel, including Jane’s, but I will focus on one instance of it that is spoiler-free: the adult Eliza and Georgiana Reed, two of the cousins Jane grew up with.

When she is working at Thornfield, Jane is called back to the house she grew up in to visit her aunt, who is on her deathbed. There she spends a lot of time with Eliza and Georgiana, who likewise are keeping their ailing mother company. The two sisters present a sharp contrast: Eliza is austere, self-sufficient, and keeps a rigid schedule, constantly working on something, whereas Georgiana is self-indulgent, richly attired, lazy, and attention-seeking. Eliza later becomes a nun, whereas Georgiana eventually marries a wealthy, fashionable man. While visiting them, Jane tires of both. Though she appreciates Eliza’s industry, she shudders at a life so limited in expression and human connection. Georgiana’s idleness she endures only because she knows it is temporary and at a difficult time in Georgiana’s life. She concludes that “Feeling without judgment is a washy draught indeed; but judgment untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition” (155). In other words, to live fully as humans, we need to express and acknowledge our emotions, but we also need to use our minds and make judgments when necessary.

Engaging with your interests makes hardships easier to bear

It is not the main focus of the story, but a positive element of Jane’s character is that she engages with her passions, particularly drawing, to deal with hardships. For example, at school, she and the other students are underfed, and she often fantasizes about food before falling asleep. But when she first starts learning to draw and paint, her nighttime fantasies transform into visions of her crafting beautiful renderings of stunning landscapes or imagined scenes. Later, when Mr. Rochester is admiring a few of her school-era works, she tells him that, “To paint them, in short, was to enjoy one of the keenest pleasures I have ever known” (81). And when she is accompanying her cousins and they are at first cold to her, she occupies herself by creating a portrait of Mr. Rochester from memory. “There, I had a friend’s face under my gaze,” she thinks, “and what did it signify that those young ladies turned their backs on me? I looked at it; I smiled at the speaking likeness: I was absorbed and content” (153). Having life-serving interests, hobbies, or passions that absorb us is a remarkably powerful but simple way to deal with stress or difficult circumstances, and it pays to remember the role such activities play in building a happy life.

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The Vibe

Jane is a person of deep feeling, enduring curiosity, and clear thinking. She sees things as they are and is totally honest. As we get the novel from her perspective, this makes for a read that is sparklingly clear and reminiscent of being told a story by a witty and perceptive friend. The environment she’s in is also vividly described, so we get the sense of the dark, confined atmosphere at her school, the stern but proud appearance of Thornfield and its surroundings, and the cozy house in the wildly beautiful moor she lives in afterwards.

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Adaptations

There are many adaptations of Jane Eyre available; I can comment on three. In the 1986 BBC miniseries, Zelah Clarke as the adult Jane is delightful and charming; Timothy Dalton as Mr. Rochester looks and sounds the part, and has the appropriate gravitas, but at times I found his line delivery a bit stiff. This adaptation, though in some ways very faithful, cuts out some of the most interesting parts in the conversations, which is disappointing given the long runtime.

The 2006 BBC miniseries starring Ruth Wilson and Toby Stephens focused very heavily on the romance between Jane and Mr. Rochester and the mystery at Thornfield Hall, speeding through Jane’s childhood and her time at Moor House. Toby Stephens’ excellent use of facial expressions brings Mr. Rochester to life wonderfully. However, Wilson’s Jane is much more confident and lacks the “Lowood restraint” she’s described as having in the novel, reducing the early tension between them. Further, it removes a few instances of her using her agency to change her situation. Much of the dialogue was rewritten for this version, using a style that’s less formal to modern ears.

The 2011 movie starring Mia Wasikowska emphasizes the gothic element of the story through its darker, subdued color palette and sadder soundtrack. Nevertheless, it does focus on Jane’s development more so than the 2006 series does, using the framing device of Jane at Moor House looking back on the earlier parts of her life. Wasikowska has lighter hair than Jane is described as having in the book, but her features and mannerisms lend themselves well to the fairy-like, ethereal quality Mr. Rochester often describes her as having.

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Conclusion

Jane is an independent, rational heroine who braves physical hardship and social disapproval to make the right decisions for herself. Her tale of developing her own identity and the romance and mystery that tangled her path to becoming her adult self is entrancing. In sum, Jane Eyre is a fascinating novel, at once moving and thought-provoking, and fully deserving of its status as a timeless, beloved classic.

P.S. I’m working on a YouTube video about lessons for making good decisions from Jane Eyre. It will assume knowledge of the book, and is not as spoiler-free as I’ve tried to make this article. But if you know the story and you’re not already subscribed to the Fictionosophy YouTube account, do so now so you’ll be notified when the video is out!