Phoebe: Okay, all right, so Jane Eyre: First of all, you’d think she’s a woman, but she’s not. She’s a cyborg.
Rachel: A cyborg? Isn’t that, like, a robot?
Phoebe: Yeah, this book was lightyears ahead of its time.
And the Friends quotes continue! Okay, before I get into the story, I just want to say: thanks, everyone, for the sweet comments that you all left on my Septemb-Eyre introductory post. I loved them, I have now approved and replied to them all, and I’m working on getting to everyone’s blogs to leave comments in return. I really appreciate all of your patience – this move has not gone quite as smoothly as I would have liked it to, and it took me a few days to get my computer up and running. Even now that I have internet access back, I am finding it hard to get online much, because I’m spending most of my time either entertaining the baby or unpacking. But I will get around to reading everyone’s introductions in good time, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of my reading buddies thought about the first week’s reading. I can already tell that this read-along is going to be a lot of fun!
Okay, so, to my thoughts on the first eleven chapters. (Warning: spoilers abound. If you’re not participating in Septemb-Eyre and you don’t want to ruin the story, be advised.)
Synopsis
When the book opens, we meet young Jane, a child of around nine or ten years, friendless ward in the home of her late uncle Reed. Mrs. Reed, her guardian, and the three Reed children are unfriendly, even cruel, to the sensitive heroine. When Jane finally rises up against her bullying cousin John, she is blamed for the fit of temper he provoked and locked in “the red room,” the chamber where her uncle breathed his last. Jane, an imaginative child, falls victim to a fit of hysterics when she dreams up her uncle’s ghost – and her fit leads to her being sent away to school, because Mrs. Reed can’t bear to have her around the house anymore. (Before she leaves, Jane does manage to tell Mrs. Reed exactly what she thinks of the treatment she has received, in a stunningly mature reaming-out.)
Lowood, the school for orphans and friendless girls to which Jane is consigned, seems at first blush to be a harsh, cheerless place. The food is inedible, and the wash-basin water is frozen. The school is run by the hypocritical Mr. Brocklehurst, who preaches humility in both behavior and dress, going so far as to chastise one girl for having naturally curly hair, while his gaudy wife and daughters bedeck themselves in satins and ermines and ringlets. Mr. Brocklehurst uses “Christian piety” to justify depriving the young girls of nutritious food and warm clothing – but the school isn’t completely desolate, despite its governor’s cruelties. At Lowood, Jane finds a true friend in Helen Burns, and a steadfast, sympathetic heart in the school superintendent, Maria Temple. The school itself becomes more habitable when a typhus attack decimates the population and causes the donors to demand reforms (and a reduced role for Mr. Brocklehurst). Jane thrives at Lowood, even after consumption carries off her dear friend Helen, but eight years after arriving there, she decides to strike out on her own when her beloved Miss Temple marries and departs. Jane advertises her services as a governess and is engaged by Mrs. Fairfax, housekeeper at the imposing Thornfield Hall, to teach young Adele Varens, the ward of the estate’s mysterious owner, Mr. Rochester. At the close of this chapter in our read-along, Jane has just arrived at Thornfield to a hearty welcome from Mrs. Fairfax, and is getting on well with her young pupil. But something isn’t quite right: Jane has heard strange, mirthless, tragic laughing in the attic. Now what could that be?
Thoughts Thus Far
I’ve said many times that Jane Eyre is my favorite book, and that it had been too long since I’d re-read it. In fact, I hadn’t spent time with Jane in several years. So far, I’m happy to report, I love the book just as much as I always did – maybe even more. This first section held new meaning for me now that I’m a mother. On past readings, I’ve rushed through the first few chapters, blazing by Jane’s childhood and her education at Lowood to get to “the good part” – the part with Mr. Rochester. (Sigh.) But this time, I found myself taking my time over the young Jane, and I was heartsick at the way the Reeds treated her.
Since I became a mother, I’ve found myself infusing Peanut into any reading selection that involves a child. Not so much casting her in a specific role, but thinking, “What if this was my daughter?” (Anne of Green Gables, which I just finished re-reading, was a prime candidate for this. I so wanted to gather Anne up in my arms and mother her. But more on that later.) I found that, in the case of Jane Eyre, I can no longer read the beginning of the book without feeling hot sparks of anger at the wanton cruelty of Mrs. Reed (what kind of person shakes off and abandons a clearly terrified child?) or the neglect of Mr. Brocklehurst (the fact that there are really people who profit from neglecting orphaned children disgusts me – it always has, but now more than ever). And I’m even more grateful for the kindness and compassion Jane finds in Miss Temple, who proves herself not only caring, but also brave, and willing to stand up to Mr. Brocklehurst and demand better treatment for the girls. (Hurray for Miss Temple! She’s now one of my favorite minor characters in literature.) My admittedly limited (my kid is one, after all) experience of motherhood is infusing all kinds of new colors and lights into this reading.
Now Jane is happily situated at Thornfield, looking to a brighter future, and I’m glad to be there too. I’d forgotten the kind bustle of Mrs. Fairfax, and the sweet girlishness of Adele. Oh, and the creeping chill of that horrible laughter coming from the attic… And, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to it. It’s about time for one of my favorite literary leading men to ride onto the scene. Come on, Mr. Rochester!
Are you reading (or re-reading) Jane Eyre this month too? Are you loving it?
covered in flour 
Those early chapters were so hard for me to get through–I wanted to adopt all the fictional orphaned girls and give them all hugs and as much food as they wanted to eat. And I love the Anne of Green Gables reference as well. That is personally my favorite book ever 🙂
Ok, I’ve never read Anne of Green Gables, either… this readalong is teaching me so many things, not least of which how many books I still need to read someday.
Wait – you’ve never read Anne of Green Gables?! Oh, my goodness – next read-along? I love L.M. Montgomery – even named my daughter after one of her heroines. (Not Anne, even though I love her. A different heroine.)
That’s never a bad thing! We all have lots of books we need to read someday 🙂
Great thoughts, Jaclyn, especially from your perspective as a mother. Mrs Reed is really the ‘worstest’. I was SO happy when Jane left Gateshead!
I must confess to being very excited for the enigmatic Mr Rochester to make his appearance 😉
Bring on the Rochester!
Chapter XII! I love his entry onto the scene. So very awkward.
I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your re-read of Jane Eyre! Parenting has changed how I relate to everything in my life, including the characters I meet in fiction. I didn’t identify with young Jane when I was about her age–her life felt so foreign to me–but, now that I’m an adult, I see young Jane the way I would see one of my girls. Also, through my job, I’m more aware of the effects of poverty, and I’m more familiar with the experiences of young children who have grown up in conditions similar to what Jane experienced at Lowood (hunger, illness, no parents, etc).
I can see how Jane’s experiences would feel totally foreign if I were reading this at a younger age — I don’t know that I had the worldview to appreciate her life, even if I would have know it was cruel and unfair.
It certainly was foreign to me. Growing up comfortably in the suburbs, with two parents, I really couldn’t tap into any experiences to color Jane’s early life. If anything, I thought the first part of the book was a little dull, and too long before Rochester’s introduction. (Now I value it and I think it’s important to lay out Jane’s personality through the lens of her childhood. But at the time, I was all… wut?)
Concentrating on and not going past the first 11 chapters made me pay more attention to Jane’s early life. I think I just left myself with an abridged version and raced ahead to meet Mr. Rochester on all of my previous re-readings. This time I paid much more attention to the Reeds and the privations suffered at Lowood and kept thinking of poor little Oliver Twist, all while being very glad that, despite the orphan thing and the getting tossed around thing, Jane did have it much better. I am extra grateful for that.
I’ve done the same thing, on past readings. (And Oliver Twist… there’s another one I haven’t read in a long time.) When I was younger and reading this book for the first time, my experience of “orphan lit” was pretty much restricted to L.M. Montgomery, whose orphans generally go to live on beautiful farms with people who are a little strict at first but really love them. That’s NOT what happened to Jane, for sure!
Love to hear how your perspective as a mother has changed your reading of the book. I think that’s one of the best parts of re-reads at different stages; we know the text hasn’t changed, but our interpretations and appreciations of it are sure to change over time.
So true! Can’t wait for the rest…
I am definitely loving the re-read so far! I find it so touching how reading the first chapters have affected you differently now that you are a mother. I don’t have kids yet, but when I do think I have taken away different things whenever I re-read Jane Eyre at different points of my life. Sometimes it’s the romance or the self-respect Jane has or her need to make a change. I’m sure there’ll be a day when I feel the same as you do about the first chapters!
There’s so much in this book, that I think you could read it every year and find something different to take away! The first time I read it, it was the romance for sure. (Mr. Rochester… sigh.) Then it was the gothic creepiness that I found really compelling. Then the romance again. Then the feminism (although I didn’t recognize it as feminism at first – I sort of skimmed the paragraphs where Jane ruminates on women needing the same things as men, and focused more on Jane’s assertion of independence). This time, I hope to pick up more of the feminist philosophy. And the romance, too, of course.
I’ve noticed the same phenomenon since becoming a mother myself. It has made books, movies, and current events take on a different look. I also share your love of Miss Temple. I did not remember her at all from my first read let alone how quietly subversive, rebellious, and just she really was. She was a true warrior for those girls and a great literary character!
I too am quite excited to get Mr. Rochester rolling in! I’m hoping he doesn’t let me down!!! Like I said on some one else’s comment section, Mr. Darcy is the man you bring home to mom and dad, but Rochester is the one you REALLY want 🙂
Ha, I love that – Rochester is the one you really want! Totally agree. He is a bit of a bad boy, isn’t he? And we ladies often have a soft spot for the bad boys. (I dated one, a LONG time ago, and remember him fondly, but I married the nice guy and I’m glad I did.)
It’s amazing how reading the same book after having a little one changes things, doesn’t it? I shudder to think of what life would have been like at Lowood without Miss Temple there – don’t know if my mama heart could stand reading about THAT school.
What an awesome comparison between the two romantic heroes!!!!
Hallo Jacyln!!
You have my full sympathies on tech issues & time constraints!! I have been swimming in a sea of tech issues for nearly a full fortnight!! I am happy to say, I seem to work my way through them, but ooh! I even ran into one as I uploading my post for Septemb-Eyre! Oyyy. Woe is us, eh!? Moving is never easy, and it is always far more complicated than we’d prefer, so I will be thinking of you over this next week and hope that you’ll be in a calmer and more settled state soon!
And, your welcome with the happy notes we left you last week! I am enjoying the community and collective reading aspect to the read-a-long as well as getting to see everyone’s unique perspective of the story as they read it! We may not all agree on each point, but I celebrate that too, because it proves that reading is a transformative experience that takes on different point of views for each reader who reads!
I *love!* your new-found joy of Eyre!! And, all of it stemming from your new role as a Mum! That is simply classic! If you read the story originally as a young teen or in your early 20s, I can see why your attachment was on Rochester and not on the blight of childhood that reared young Jane! Your eyes are open further now to the full picture of what Eyre had to go through, and being that you love being a Mum — its nearly too hard to choke over the words and sequences that left her without nurturement and love for such a long period of time! You’ll find that my review of the story nearly matches your own, as we each brought to light similar sequences and passages! We each felt protective of Jane, and we each could not fully comprehend how abusive and destructive those around her chose to behave! And, like you, although I might be ‘aware’ of the world, it does not mean I have to condone it!
I am reading Jane Eyre for the first time, but this isn’t my first time in knowing Jane Eyre (as I saw the adaptation in film). What I am enjoying the most, is only reading each set of chapters assigned and each week, only having those chapters reflective and at the forefront of my heart and mind as I lay down my thoughts therein! I cannot wait to see what comes next Monday!! For myself, but also, to see your transition post that leads into Rochester’s entrance!
PS: I, too, love Anne Shirley! I mention other strong female leads in the Epilogue section of my post, as it was in reference to another Septemb-Eyre’s blog I had visited!
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