The Ethics of Jane Eyre

Let's get spicy, shall we?

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(Starting PSA:  I am aware that I should use photos of Bertha in this post because I'm talking about her so much and because she is a Human Person and not a Plot Device and all that.  I get that.  But Bertha was the bogeyman of my childhood, and old terrors die hard.)

Jane Eyre has always been controversial in classic lovers' circles.  Charlotte Brontë's novel has been eliciting strong emotions for years.  Those who love it generally love it passionately.  Those who hate it generally hate it passionately.  (A smaller portion of the population appear able to regard it with moderation. 😄)

Whatever their opinion of the story itself, though, many people seem united on two opinions:  that Edward Rochester is gross, and that Bertha Mason is mistreated.  There's plenty to discuss on both fronts, but the first topic I want to dive into today is the blending of these objections.  I want to explore one of the most common arguments I hear in conversations (be they positive or negative) of Jane Eyre:  that Rochester is gross because he himself mistreats Bertha. 

This is a bit of a hot topic; as I already admitted, this story is controversial in many ways.  And this facet of the conversation is particularly emotional for a lot of people.  There's good reason for that:  it delves into the politics of mental illness and the rights of those who struggle with it, which is a critically important discussion with exceptionally high stakes.  So before I begin, let me state that by what I say in this post, I am in no way trying to diminish the reality of mental illness, or the human rights to which mentally ill people are entitled. 

Additionally, I'm not necessarily here to change people's minds on the story, or even on these specific aspects of it.  I'm only here to share my own two cents on it; to share the thoughts that have percolated in my mind while observing and participating in a wide range of discussions over the years. 

Bottom line:  I may very well upset people from both sides of the proverbial aisle with this one. 😄

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To begin, I'll say that I don't mind people disliking Edward Rochester.  I don't mind people thinking that he's a toxic person.  (Because, in many ways and for quite some time, he is.)  I don't mind people finding him ethically unacceptable.  Dislike who you dislike.  Heck, I dislike Steve Rogers for the same reasons (finding him morally objectionable).  There's no accounting for taste.

What bothers me is the claim that Rochester abuses his wife.

Because . . . he doesn't.  

Rochester does Many Bad Things, and those things certainly need to be Acknowledged and Addressed.  And we'll get into all of that a little later.  But one Bad Thing that he does not do is abuse his wife.  In fact, when I consider all of Rochester's actions over the course of Jane Eyre, his treatment of Bertha is the one I find least objectionable. 

Let's review the options available to Rochester once he discovers that his wife is clinically insane:

1)  Divorce her? ✘

2)  Commit her to a mental institute? ✔

3)  Take her to a small estate he owns (not Thornfield) and sequester her there with live-in care? ✔

4)  Keep her at Thornfield where she will need to be more restricted for the safety of the other inhabitants? ✔   

Now let's examine the viability of the three options he has remaining to him (remember, the law will not allow him to divorce her):

1) Commit her to a mental institute.

Quite possible, but quite inhumane given the appalling conditions of asylums at the time.  Rochester refuses to do this.  Point Rochester.

2)  Take her to another small estate he owns.

Ah, possibly the most controversial decision Rochester has to make when determining how to care for Bertha.  As he explains to Jane, the estate in question could have worked, yes.  It would have allowed him to keep her out of sight, out of mind.  It would have (theoretically) allowed her some more freedom, in that she and her caretakers would be the only members of the household. 

However, Rochester knew that the local climate of this additional estate would likely destroy Bertha's physical health, and would quite probably kill her.  So, yet again, Rochester refuses to make this arrangement. 

In my mind, that's another clear point for Rochester.  The reason I say it's controversial is that I recognize that some people would consider taking Bertha to a climate that would quickly kill her more "humane" than "locking her in an attic" for years.

Now, myself, I don't concede that this option is "better" than the one Rochester ultimately chooses — and that's largely because I've never bought into the moral premise of euthanasia.  I'm not going to argue this point too finely here because I know that I'm not going to change my mind on it, and neither are those who differ, and it's best to leave it alone and agree to disagree on this particular ethical conundrum.  I'm only bringing it up for clarity's sake.   

So, yes:  This was another option.  It was an option that Rochester considered immoral, and personally, I agree with him.  Others will not.  C'est la vie.

3)  Keep her at Thornfield.

Are there consequences to choosing this option?  Yes.  Should Rochester have been honest about keeping Bertha at Thornfield, at the very least with the other people who lived there?  Yes.

But all things considered, did Thornfield offer the greatest possibility of the highest level of health and care for Bertha?  . . . Yes.  

Or, at the very least, if a valid argument can be made to the contrary, an equally valid argument can be made to the affirmative. 

("But he locked her up!"

Um.  You guys.  

Actively violent psychopaths . . . need . . . to be . . . "locked up"? *scratches head*

Actively violent psychopaths cannot enjoy all of the same "liberties" as the general population.  Heck, actively violent anybody cannot enjoy all of the same liberties as the general population!  

This . . . is a foundational concept of society? We all know this?  Right?  Right?!)

By all means, let's address the ethical issues contained in Jane Eyre. Because, make no mistake, there are plenty of ethical issues contained in Jane Eyre.  For example:

- The double standard of sexual ethics.  (The multiple mistresses Rochester keeps during his European travels are "lesser people" because of their "profession", unworthy and incapable of true spiritual intimacy; yet somehow that same shallowness does not transfer to the you-know-what who "employs" them?)

- The classism and elitism which even Jane herself exhibits towards the end of the novel.

- The needless cruelty and offensiveness of describing Bertha in animalistic terms and otherwise dehumanizing her.

- The casual racism of the implication that Bertha's indigenous heritage is at least partially to blame for her insanity.

I'm not trying to pretend that Jane Eyre is an immaculate story, y'all.  That's not what we're doing here.

The story has flaws. 

It's just that Edward Rochester's treatment of Bertha Mason isn't one of them.

Because, despite all the sin and bitterness in his soul, despite all his other mistakes, Rochester maintains an adamant commitment throughout the entire story to "do right" (or, at the very least, "do right to the best of his knowledge and ability") by Bertha.

And I believe that, overall, in the broad scheme of things, he succeeds.  Perfectly?  No.  Primarily?  Yes.

Plus, also, can we just . . . I'm so sorry to bring this up; I'm really not trying to be petty here, but . . . I just have a hard time accepting that a man who risks his own life running back into a burning building in order to try to save the woman who deliberately set it on fire to begin with — and who comes out blind and an amputee for his trouble — is somehow "a monster" who "treated the mental patient so terribly".

*salty ahems*

Now, once again, please understand: this is not a defense of Edward Fairfax Rochester. I have no blind attachment to Edward Fairfax Rochester. (I root for him, but I don't have a hero hang-up on him.) He is a flawed, flawed flawed flawed man. He has Issues, and I am Aware. Trust me.

You want to talk about Rochester's sins? Let's do it.

Let's talk about his dishonesty.

Let's talk about his half-baked, pathetic, contemptible treatment of Adele.

Let's talk about his sexual entitlement and his hypocrisy (i.e. Adele's mother and the other mistresses).

Let's talk about his sadistic tendencies.

Let's talk about any number of serious, serious problems in Rochester's character.   

Let's just not pretend that he mistreats Bertha in the process.

To reiterate ad nauseum:  I'm not saying that you can't dislike Rochester or disagree with him or disapprove of him. There's plenty of room for doing all three. All I'm saying is that if you want to accuse him of neglecting or abusing Bertha specifically, I think you need to have a pretty deliberate disregard for the actual, objective facts of the story.

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Another of the most vehement complaints I tend to hear about Jane Eyre is that Brontë excuses adultery on the grounds of mental illness — people's objection, naturally, being rooted in the (clearly true) fact that people do not lose their right to marital fidelity simply because they struggle with mental illness.

Again:  that is clearly true.

But do you know when people may very well lose — or at the very least, jeopardize — their right to marital fidelity?

When they have already committed marital infidelity.

(Which Bertha has.)

When they physically assault everyone they encounter.

(Which Bertha has.)

When they literally try to set their spouses on fire while they sleep — twice.

(Which Bertha has.)

There is a difference between "mental struggles" and clinical psychosis.  There is a difference, as we have already discussed, between the mentally ill and the dangerously violent.  

It is misleading, simplistic, and unfair to claim that Brontë is excusing Rochester from his marital responsibilities to Bertha simply because she is "mentally ill". 

First, because most of us would concur that people should not be compelled to stay with violent spouses, period.  Full-stop.  Whatever the spouses' mental illness.  And because, in this particular fictional scenario, the law did not provide the option of leaving said violent spouse. 

Second, because the claim that Brontë excuses adultery for any reason whatsoever is patently false.  If you actually pay attention to what actually happens in the story, it is unequivocally clear that Brontë's entire point is that nothing excuses adultery or bigamy, however horrific or unjust the marriage in question may be. The literal message of the book is that the upright will never consent to an adulterous or bigamous relationship, be the extenuating factors whatever they may. Jane and Rochester's union can only be morally sanctioned once he has repented for his sin and once he has become — through no fault of his own and despite his own best efforts — a widower.

Do Bertha's violence and infidelity justify Rochester attempting to marry Jane "on the down-low" while Bertha is still alive and legally his wife?  Of course not.  That is outrageous and wrong, on many levels, and nothing could make it anything but outrageous and wrong.  

But again, as Brontë herself would say, that is the point.  

That is why Jane leaves him.  That is why they cannot be a couple.

Had Bertha already violated their wedding vows?  Yes.  Should Rochester have been able to legally separate himself from her?  Yes.  But he wasn't, and for that reason — and no other — it would be immoral for him and Jane to be together. 

[Plus, if you're concerned with looking out for the mentally ill in this story, you have to be concerned with looking out for Rochester himself, since he is most certainly mentally ill as well.  (The precise diagnosis could be debated; personally, I suspect bipolar or borderline personality disorder.)]

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There is one last facet to this conversation that I want to address before I go:  the fact that this story perpetuates the "crazy woman in the attic" trope.

Hysteria has long been used to dismiss, discredit, and do away with "troublesome" women.  Historically, it has been one of the first "explanations" deployed against women complaining of anything, from health concerns to marital abuse.  The damage that has been wrought by this stereotype — that women are more prone to mental fragility, hypochondria, and "overreaction" — is devastating.

In light of that, I think there's space for critiquing Brontë's decision to write the story in the way that she did.  I think there's space for questioning the ethical integrity of writing a story in which the "villain" is a "hysterical woman," thereby reducing her narrative significance to that of being an obstacle to the "virtuous woman's" happiness.  I absolutely think that is a valid concern. 

However, as I have said throughout this whole post:  Given that Brontë did write the story the way that she did — given that the woman in the attic legitimately is actually, literally insane in this specific fictional situation — and given that it is possible for individual women to be actually, literally insane in real life — I cannot agree that it is some kind of heinous sin for Rochester to want to distance himself  from her.  Nor can I agree that this particular "woman in the attic" — in this specific story — is mistreated because of her (very real) mental illness. 

You can blame the author (if you like) for giving her characters the set of circumstances that she did; but I do not think that, in this particular instance, you can blame the characters themselves for their responses to that set of circumstances.

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Whew.  That took a while, y'all.  There are so many angles to this conversation, and so many valid perspectives on it, and I only scratched the surface of a few of them.  So, whether you agree or disagree with my own opinion, I hope you enjoyed reading it. ♥

What do you think of Jane Eyre?