THE PAINFUL STATE OF PLEASURE
IN CHARLOTTE BRONTË’S JANE EYRE
by
Michelle Cannon
A Thesis submitted to the Faculty of
The Wilkes Honors College
In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of
Bachelor of Arts in Liberal Arts and Sciences
With a concentration in English Literature
Wilkes Honors College of
Florida Atlantic University
Jupiter, Florida
December 2008
1
THE PAINFUL STATE OF PLEASURE
IN CHARLOTTE BRONTË’S JANE EYRE
by
Michelle Cannon
This thesis was prepared under the direction of the candidate’s thesis advisor, Dr. Hilary
Edwards, and has been approved by the members of her supervisory committee. It was
submitted to the faculty of The Honors College and was accepted in partial fulfillment of
the requirements for the degree of Bachelor of Arts and Sciences.
SUPERVISOR COMMITTEE:
___________________________
Dr. Hilary Edwards
___________________________
Dr. Laura Barrett
___________________________
Dean, Wilkes Honors College
____________
Date
ii
2
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to Dr. Hilary Edwards for her encouragement, dedication and patience in
helping me with this project. Without your guidance and assistance, this would have been
an impossible feat.
Thank You to Dr. Laura Barrett for bringing a different perspective to this project and
helping me improve upon my ideas with clarity and concision.
iii
3
ABSTRACT
Author:
Michelle Cannon
Title:
The Painful State of Pleasure in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre
Institution:
Wilkes Honors College of Florida Atlantic University
Thesis Advisor:
Dr. Hilary Edwards
Degree:
Bachelor of Arts in Liberal Arts and Sciences
Concentration:
English Literature
Year:
2008
The heroine of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre is torn between her physical desire to
remain close to Mr. Rochester and her psychological need for distance from him. Jane’s
need for distance tends to dominate her desire for closeness, and this internal conflict is
reproduced externally in her relationship with Rochester, with Rochester’s desire for
physical proximity conflicting with Jane’s desire for distance. These internal and external
power struggles create a healthy sense of tension necessary both to Jane, and to her
relationship with Rochester because it prevents either of them from being fully satisfied,
and ensures that both remain in a perpetual state of self-inflicted suffering. The suffering
these characters impose on themselves and each other is necessary for the preservation of
desires, which would be destroyed by fulfillment. Through my reading of the novel we
gain a greater understanding of how the pain of unfulfilled desires becomes synonymous
with pleasure, and the beneficial role pain, tension and unfulfilled desires plays in the
text.
iv4
Table of Contents
Introduction
………….1
Chapter One: Jane’s Internal Struggle
………….8
Chapter Two: Jane’s External Struggle
.…………22
Chapter Three: Pain without Pleasure
………….36
Conclusion: Pain as Pleasure
………….47
Works Cited
………….56
5v
Introduction
Jane Eyre has been widely discussed and analyzed by critics since its original
publication in 1847. Brontë was acclaimed by her contemporaries, who included William
Makepiece Thakeray and Harriet Martineau. Despite being a success among critics, the
novel was also censured by numerous religious organizations for being lewd, sexual and
pornographic.1 Thackeray commended the novel: “It is a fine book…I have been
exceedingly moved and pleased by Jane Eyre” (Frasier 278). Jane Eyre has also been the
focus of numerous feminist critics. Virginia Woolf claimed that, “[a]t the end we are
steeped through and through with the genius, the vehemence, the indignation of Charlotte
Brontë” (1329). Gilbert and Gubar2 assert that the novel is a revision of Bunyan’s
Pilgrim’s Progress, while Postcolonial theorist Gayatri Spivak argues that the text
appeals only to mainstream feminists while excluding non-white and minority females.3
The novel has been highly contested, critiqued and praised from a variety of perspectives
over the years.
My main goal in writing this thesis was to discover why pain is so important in
Jane’s relationship with Rochester as well as for Jane herself, and what the significance is
of creating a book in which pain, desire and integrity are intertwined. After re-reading the
text with the various critics in mind, I became acutely interested in how Brontë utilizes
pain in her text. The subject of pain is widely discussed among critics as being crucial to
Jane’s religious integrity. Earl A. Knies asserts that although Jane finds herself weak and
1
For a more detailed discussion on the negative reception of Jane Eyre among religious organizations of
the nineteenth century, see Rebecca Frasier’s book, The Brontë’s.
2
The Madwoman in the Attic offers further insight into feminist arguments in Jane Eyre.
3
For a more on the Postcolonial perspective, see Spivak’s “Three Women’s Texts and a Critique of
Imperialism.”
1
willing to give in to a sinful life of adultery with Rochester, “[t]he returning awareness of
God ultimately gives [Jane] the strength she needs to resist Rochester’s pleadings and her
own temptation to become his mistress”(132). In other words, despite the fact that
leaving Rochester is painful to Jane, she still decides to leave him for the sake of her
religious devotion. Similarly, Cynthia Linder claims that it is only after leaving
Thornfield that Jane “recognizes in nature the visual embodiment of the infinitude,
omnipotence and omnipresence of God” (38). It is only through the painful act of leaving
Rochester that Jane is able to return to her religious roots as Linder asserts that “Jane’s
spiritual growth” can take place only “after [she] has left Thornfield” (38). In general,
these critics assert that Jane achieves religious integrity through the difficult and painful
act of leaving Rochester, who tries to compromise her moral beliefs. There is an acute
need to justify Brontë’s use of pain in this text because it is such a prevalent and
consuming aspect of the novel. It makes sense that critics would turn to religion as a
suitable explanation for the presence of pain in this text considering Brontë’s religious
upbringing as a parson’s daughter, and the “ethic of purity” and “Victorian prudery”
taught in church and within the home that infiltrated life in the nineteenth century
(Houghton 419).4 I found myself unwilling to accept such an obvious answer to the
complex issue of pain in this text. It became apparent to me that pain plays a crucial role
in the text not because of religious fervency on Jane’s part, but because pain provides a
venue for pleasure and is directly connected with desire and integrity for Jane.
My thesis begins with a discussion of Jane’s internal struggle to illustrate how
pain first manifests itself within Jane’s thought process through physically and sexually
4
See Walter Houghton’s The Victorian Frame of Mind for a more detailed discussion on religion and
morality in the nineteenth century.
2
violent imagery. This painful struggle is a result of her desire for physical proximity to
her love interest, Mr. Rochester, and her conflicting need for distance from him. In the
second chapter, I discuss how her internal struggle is reproduced externally in her
relationship with Rochester. Rochester’s desire for proximity to Jane conflicts with her
need for distance from him, and these external conflicts often mirror the struggle Jane
faces internally. The result of these two struggles is a painful state of pleasure. In chapter
four, I then go on to illustrate how the pain of both Jane’s internal struggle and Jane’s
external struggle with Rochester is ultimately a source of pleasure.
The struggles Jane encounters are complex and multi-faceted. As stated earlier,
these struggles occur at both an internal and external level. Internally, Jane is torn
between her physical desire to remain close to Mr. Rochester, and her psychological need
for distance from him. Jane’s need for distance tends to dominate her desire for closeness
throughout the text because her desire for distance correlates with her need to retain her
integrity. Distance and integrity have a symbiotic relationship in this text because
integrity can only be achieved through distance. This internal struggle manifests itself in
a visceral, sexual manner through Jane’s dreams and thought process, forcing her to
maintain her distance from Rochester. Although the scenes in the text are sexually
graphic and brutal, the consequences of Jane’s internal struggle are ultimately, and
ironically a means of preserving her integrity and chastity as well as maintaining her
desire. It is Jane’s conscience and integrity that prevent her from giving in to her desires
to Rochester. Her internal struggle against such submission allows her to maintain
possession of her desires rather than abdicating them to Rochester is her way of
maintaining her integrity. Integrity within this text refers to Jane’s need to sustain her
3
desires for Rochester by preventing him from overtaking those desires. If Jane were to
give in to Rochester, her desires would dissipate, and Jane wants to ensure that the
dissipation of desire does not occur, because she experiences pleasure through desire. Her
conscience becomes a means of allowing her to preserve her chastity while
simultaneously experiencing the full effect of her desire. Her integrity is not a barrier to
keep Rochester out so much as it is a barrier to keep Jane’s desires from fading or
escaping from her. The painful internal turmoil and tension Jane endures is disturbing,
but also necessary in order to experience and prolong the pleasurable state of desire.
The second chapter of my thesis deals with the internal struggle in chapter one,
and how this struggle is reproduced externally in Jane’s relationship with Rochester
because Rochester’s desires for physical proximity to Jane conflict with Jane’s desire for
distance from him. Rochester uses his power as Jane’s employer to force her into
physical proximity with him because it is his way of asserting control in their
relationship. Jane reacts to these entreaties by continually maintaining physical distance
through various plot devices such as asserting that she must go and see her dying Aunt
Reed, and separate from him, etc. Such devices become convenient and socially
acceptable ways of allowing Jane to keep her distance from Rochester. This struggle
between Jane and Rochester’s conflicting desires continues throughout the majority of
the book, and ensures that ultimately Jane and Rochester are never fully satisfied as long
as they remain in conflict with one another’s desires for distance and proximity. The
result is that their desires continually increase because gratification is denied. The
numerous points of high tension in the text between Jane and Rochester are associated
with pain, but simultaneously associated with pleasure as well. There is overt sexual
4
language and gestures in Jane and Rochester’s relationship that is similar to the internal
struggle Jane faces between her conscience and desire. While both the internal and
external struggles serve to heighten the sense of pain and tension for Jane and Rochester,
these instances of extreme conflict also serve as a means of self-preservation for Jane and
ultimately protect her from losing herself to Rochester’s desires as well as her own.
The struggle Jane faces internally as well as the struggle Jane and Rochester face
in their relationship are both accompanied by a sense of tension that ultimately results in
pain. The novel uses this tension to ensure that the pain in Jane and Rochester’s
relationship remains. It may seem that Brontë is a masochist or is presenting Jane as one,
but instead, as we have seen in my argument from Chapter Two, pain is a means of
achieving pleasure, because without the painful preservation of desire, pleasure would be
unattainable. In this text, pleasure is achieved only through the constant maintenance of
desire. To illustrate this, Brontë makes a point of distinguishing pain for pleasure’s sake
and pain for pain’s sake, and ultimately characterizes the former as desirable and the
latter as unacceptable. Brontë distinguishes these two types of pain through Jane’s two
most prominent relationships with men. Up to now, I have described the role pain and
tension has in Jane’s relationship with Rochester, and how this particular type of pain
ultimately results in a form of pleasure. The second pain-related relationship Jane has
dealing with pain is her relationship with her cousin, St. John Rivers. St. John is generally
characterized by critics as a moral sadist. Psychoanalytic critic Margaret-Ann Fitzpatrick
comments on this popular assessment, claiming he is a “moral masochist, with a sadistic
conscience” who wields a “mastery over Jane” that is “strong and painful,” and whose
manipulative force should not be underestimated (1056). In contrast with these critics
5
who focus on the power and danger posed to Jane by St. John’s sadism, I argue that Jane
it is precisely because of his sadistic nature and the fact that he believes in pain for pain’s
sake which make him physically and emotionally unappealing and to Jane. It is Rochester
who poses the biggest threat to Jane because he appeals to her emotions in a way that St.
John is incapable of doing. Brontë is using St. John’s character to demonstrate a certain
unacceptable employment of pain, namely pain for pain’s sake, and to suggest that this
sort of pain should be rejected by both Jane and the readers.
Finally, in my conclusion, I argue that pain is a crucial aspect of Brontë’s novel
because for Jane and Rochester the act of feeling pain creates a venue for pleasure. The
struggle and tension that arises in their relationship prevents gratification for both
characters, and this prevention is necessary to the preservation of desire, because
gratification ends desire. Many critics think that Jane is simply a devout Christian, and
that her need for distance from Rochester is a result of a need to remain holy and pure in
the eyes of God, enduring pain in spite of her desires. Notably, George Eliot chastised
Bronte for making Jane leave Rochester after she finds out he is married to Bertha
because Eliot believed that Jane leaves for religious reasons.5 However, my thesis argues
that Jane does not resist Rochester’s entreaties for religious reasons, and is not struggling
against desire, but is on the contrary, fighting to ensure desire by maintaining her
distance from Rochester. The most climactic and sexually imagistic scenes in the text
arise during these painful moments of high tension between Jane and Rochester when
Jane asserts her need for distance. It is through the pain of this tension that Jane achieves
a sense of heightened desire. In her discussion of Denis deRougement’s book, Love in the
5
From George Eliot’s Life as Related in her Letters and Journals. Eliot asserts Jane’s decision to leave
Rochester was unjustified as the decision its roots in preserving the “diabolic law” of marriage, an
inherently religious institution in the nineteenth century.
6
Western World, Jean Wyatt asserts that “[r]omantic love in the western world has at its
heart a desire for desire”(202). It is truly desire, and not pleasure that is at the heart of this
text, as Jane is primarily concerned not with gratification, but with the painful pleasure of
heightening her desires.
7
Chapter One: Jane’s Internal Struggle
“She discovered her passion to herself in the unshrinking utterance of despair”—
George Eliot, Middlemarch
Throughout the course of Jane Eyre, Jane experiences various conflicting
emotions in her relationship with Mr. Rochester. She is attracted to him and desirous of
his physical presence in her life, but also feels an acute need to maintain her distance
from him in order to preserve her integrity. Peter Grudin states that the tension in the
novel is largely the product of Jane’s “passionateness” and the “conflict between this
quality and her strong sense of moral duty” (154). This conflict is clearly illustrated in
Jane’s internal struggle as, Jane’s physical desire, or “passionateness” to remain close to
Rochester conflicts with her rational and moral need for distance from him.
Jane first begins to realize her desires for Rochester after having several friendly
and personal conversations with him. She tells readers his “easy manner freed me from
painful restraint” and that “I felt at times he were my relation rather than my master”
(166). When he tells her of the grief he has experienced in the past, she tells the reader: “I
cannot deny that I grieved for his grief” (167). Over time, their relationship becomes
increasingly intimate as Rochester shares the details of his life with Jane, and after Jane
saves Rochester from burning alive as he is sleeping in his bed. He thanks her by taking
her hand in his, almost refusing to let it go, and initiating physical contact for the first
time. Jane describes the moment claiming, “He still retained my hand, and I could not
free it” (172). This moment represents the beginning of Jane’s recognition of her physical
desires for Mr. Rochester. Her claim that she “could not free” her hand from his suggests
to readers that after experiencing this brief moment of physical intimacy, she has an acute
8
desire to continue this touch and is unable to break free of her physical desires for
Rochester just as she is unable to free her hand from his own.
After Jane’s intimate encounter with Mr. Rochester, the tension between her need
for distance from him and her desire for proximity to him commences, and these
conflicting desires are made particularly apparent the day after she saves Rochester from
the fire in his room. She claims that, after saving him, the rest of her night was spent “on
a buoyant but unquiet sea, where billows of trouble rolled under surges of joy” (172).
This moment is indicative of the beginning of her struggle. Jane’s “surges of joy” are
interrupted with thoughts of trouble looming near by. Peter Grudin claims Jane’s fears are
her “own dark potentials” at the idea of giving in to these physical desires (145). Ruth
Bernard Yeazell agrees with Grudin, claiming that for Charlotte Brontë, “passion” is a
dangerous feeling because “its threat is the annihilation of the individual and ultimately
death itself” (133). The idea of self-annihilation because of passion is a primary concern
for Jane, because her integrity is about maintaining her individuality in part, by
maintaining and controlling her desires. Her desires for Rochester, however, threaten her
individual identity because those desires have the potential to consume Jane. She
recognizes the potential danger in her growing passion for Rochester because “[p]assion
springs from the very core of the self and yet is hostile, alien, invasive” in its efforts to
overtake the body (Eagleton 17). Passion for someone of the opposite sex is a new
sensation for Jane, and as Eagleton points out, it is “alien” and “invasive” to her physical
and emotional feelings. The reason desire becomes such a threat to integrity is because
desire allows Rochester to Jane’s thoughts and emotions. As Eagleton points out, passion
is alien to the individual experiencing it. In Jane’s case, the “alien” aspect of passion is
9
that passion is quite literally the presence of another person invading and permeating
Jane’s internal self.
Jane’s conflicting desires continue to intensify after she consciously
acknowledges to the reader her desire for proximity to Rochester. She states: “I repaired,
glad at least to go downstairs; for that brought me, I imagined, nearer to Mr. Rochester’s
presence” (178). Her physical desires in this scene lead her to seek physical proximity to
her love interest. However, she learns that Mr. Rochester is gone to town to bring back a
party of people, including the beautiful and eligible Miss Ingram. At this realization,
Jane’s passion is checked by her rationality. Believing she was mistaken in her
assumptions about her relationship with Mr. Rochester, she feels foolish and chastises
herself for imagining that any sort of intimate relationship is impossible with her
employer. She explains: “Reason, having come forward and told, in her own quiet way, a
plain, unvarnished tale, showing how I rejected the real, and rapidly devoured the ideal”
(181). After delighting in the idea of being close to Mr. Rochester once again, Jane’s
sense of rationality rebukes the idea, and fills her mind with the possibility of placing
distance between herself and Rochester in order to combat her emotional desires. At this
point in the text, Jane’s rationality has a “quiet way,” telling a “plain” truth to Jane.
Rationality is a mild feature within Jane at this point, because she believes that a barrier
between herself and Rochester has already been placed in the form of Miss Ingram. The
situation is out of her control, and at this point in the text, her internal struggle is still
mild because she does not yet have to assert her need for distance, as it seems inevitable
at this point in the text. Further illustrating how mild her inclination for distance is, she
confesses to readers:
10
[…]but ever and anon vague suggestions kept wandering across my brain, of
reasons why I should quit Thornfield[…]these thoughts I did not think it
necessary to check; they might germinate and bear fruit if they could. (184)
These two passages, the first in which Jane seeks to be closer to Rochester, and the
second in which she ponders the idea of distance, are some of the initial signs of internal
conflict. However, at this particular juncture, both inclinations are rather weak and docile.
Jane is not overly concerned with her ideas or need to leave Thornfield claiming she did
not think they were “necessary to check” as they were only “vague suggestions” that she
does not want to “germinate and bear fruit.” The reason these initial desires for distance
are not “necessary to check” is because Jane believes the seeming unalterable situation of
Rochester’s relationship with Miss Ingram will inevitably assure that barriers exist
between Jane and her employer. It is clear that at this point that the struggle is mild and
inconsequential to Jane. She is not fully aware of her desires for Rochester as of yet, and
she knows she will be parted from him before these desires begin to grow into something
more intense. This soon changes, as Jane’s struggle begins to increase in fervor and
intensity as the novel progresses.
Jane’s internal struggle for distance from Mr. Rochester begins to materialize in a
series of violent, visceral psychological images after Miss Ingram’s arrival at Thornfield.
Miss Ingram’s presence in the novel as a potential wife for Rochester forces Jane to
acknowledge her growing desires for him while simultaneously making her aware of the
fact that she will be separated from him. Prior to Miss Ingram’s arrival, and the threat she
poses on Jane’s relationship with Rochester, Jane is unaware of the full extent of her
physical desires for him. She was removed from the situation with Rochester absent from
the house, and Miss Ingram was not yet a physical presence in the text. After her arrival,
11
however, the situation becomes all too real as Jane sees Miss Ingram for the first time and
recognizes her as Rochester’s future wife. In this sense, Miss Ingram is crucial to the
establishment of Jane’s internal struggle. Before Miss Ingram’s presence, Jane’s internal
struggle manifested itself in the image of a “buoyant but unquiet sea” with “wild waters,”
“billows of trouble,” and “surges of joy” (172). These images are inoffensive and
somewhat aesthetically pleasing descriptions of Jane’s conflicting feelings. With the
threat of Miss Ingram looming in the background, Jane’s internal struggle manifests itself
in a more disturbing manner.
The first internal image of violence occurs upon Jane’s return to Thornfield after
visiting her dying Aunt Reed. She returns to find the Thornfield party and Miss Ingram
and tells herself Rochester “is not thinking of you” because of his preoccupation with
Miss Ingram (278). At this thought, Jane finds herself overwhelmed by her physical
desires for Rochester, and oppressed by the knowledge that she must soon depart from
him:
—But what is so headstrong as youth? What so blind as inexperience? These
affirmed that it was pleasure enough to have the privilege of again looking at Mr.
Rochester, whether he looked on me or not; and they added—‘Hasten! Hasten! Be
with him while you may: but a few more days or weeks, at most, and you are
parted from him forever!’ And I then strangled a newborn agony—a deformed
thing which I could not persuade myself to own and rear—and ran on. (278)
The graphic nature of this scene implies that the conflict between Jane’s desire for
proximity and her opposing desire to maintain physical distance from Rochester is
beginning to increase in intensity. The child is symbolic of Jane’s rational need for
distance, and is at odds with her physical desire for proximity. From this point on in the
text, there is always a powerful tension between these two aspects of her character, as her
12
physical desire to be close to Rochester works against her rational desire to maintain a
sense of distance from him.
This scene begins with Jane questioning her youth, and blindness to
“inexperience” as she realizes the “pleasure” she has in “looking at Mr. Rochester.” Jane
is acknowledging and understanding the amplified intensity of her physical desires for
Rochester in this moment. Her “youth” and “inexperience” as well as her yearnings are
encouraging her to “be with him while you may.” However, this recognition of desire
also births “a newborn agony.” Although the child can be seen as a symbol of Jane’s
sexual desires for Rochester,6 I argue that the newborn agony is berthed from the conflict
of Jane’s desires to be near Rochester, and simultaneously her understanding that she
must be “parted from him forever,” and is ultimately a symbol of her need for distance
from Rochester. At this realization, Jane strangles the “newborn agony,” claiming she
“could not persuade” herself to rear the “deformed thing.” Jane is able to deny the child
initially because she believes that distance from Rochester is inevitable because of his
impending marriage to Miss Ingram. She tries to eradicate the infant by means of
strangulation, (another violent, physically painful image), claiming she could not “own
and rear” it because of the acute sense of agony it would cause her, and therefore must
eliminate the infant from her psychological thought process. The reason Jane is able to
strangle the newborn at this point is because the infant is asserting her need for distance
from Rochester, something that Jane believes is inevitable regardless of how she feels
about him. At this point, Jane can deny the infant because the infant primarily functions
as a barrier to Rochester, and there is already a barrier keeping her from Rochester.
6
It could also be argued that the child is born from and a result of Jane’s desire for Rochester. Clearly, the
child can be seen as the result of sexual satisfaction, and the fact that is deformed may indicate an
unhealthy sexual relationship.
13
Jane’s belief in Rochester’s impending marriage to Miss Ingram is this barrier, and
therefore Jane does not need to rely on her rationality to maintain her distance from him.
The fact that Jane tries to strangle this newborn agony is incongruous with her
thoughts of departure prior to this passage in which Jane’s “reason” nurtured a “vague”
inclination to leave Thornfield and Mr. Rochester and seek employment elsewhere. The
child has grown in response to the growth of Jane’s desires, and will be necessary after
Jane learns of Rochester’s attachment to her. It becomes apparent that while Jane
struggles to strangle this child, she is also the one who nurtured it into being, ironically
through the development of her physical desires. This further illustrates how her internal
desires for proximity to Rochester and her psychological need for distance from him are
continually at odds and result in a contradiction of emotions and actions in Jane.
Although these two actions oppose one another, they also thrive on their opposition for
existence and function in a symbiotic relationship within Jane. The intensity of Jane’s
struggle in this passage is increasing, but it does not fully develop until after Jane learns
of Rochester’s feelings for her and there are no longer any barriers in place to keep her
distanced from him. It is only when these barriers are removed that Jane’s internal
struggle begins to increase in intensity, because her rational need for distance becomes
necessary in her relationship with Rochester.
As the novel progresses, Miss Ingram departs Thornfield on bad terms with Mr.
Rochester, and is no longer perceived by Jane as a threat. Rochester admits he only used
her to make Jane jealous, and then insists on Jane marrying him. Initially, she happily
complies with his request. However, as their marriage date draws closer, Jane’s “newborn
14
agony” grows into a sickly and helpless child in Jane’s dreams, illustrating the growth of
her need for distance from him. She describes these dreams to Rochester:
On sleeping, I continued in dreams the idea of a dark and gusty night. I continued
also the wish to be near you, and experienced a strange, regretful consciousness of
some barrier dividing us[…]I was burdened with the charge of a little child: a
very small creature, too young and feeble to walk, and which shivered in my cold
arms, and wailed piteously in my ear. I thought, sir, that you were on the road a
long way before me; and I strained every nerve to overtake you…but my
movements were fettered[….]while you, I felt, withdrew farther and farther every
moment. (323)
In this imagistic dream sequence, it becomes clear that Jane did not successfully strangle
her “newborn agony,” because it has grown into a “little child” that she claims she is now
“burdened with.” In the dream, Jane is struggling to remain physically close to Rochester,
but finds herself unable to do so because the child is a burden, and “barrier” to physical
proximity. Jane’s physical desires are once again struggling with her psychological desire
for distance, and with a growing intensity.
The child is symbolic of Jane’s psychological desire for distance, and this desire
has grown stronger since her engagement to Rochester because the threat of physical
proximity becomes more acute as her impending nuptials draw near. It was merely a
“newborn agony” when Jane believed him to be engaged to Miss Ingram, but now that
Jane herself is soon to be the mistress of Thornfield, her desire for distance has increased.
Initially, Jane refused the child, strangled it, and “ran on,” successfully averting the desire
for distance. However, it is apparent in this sequence that physical distance is inevitable
in this relationship, as Jane describes Rochester going “farther and farther” from her
“every moment” because she chooses to keep the child in her care. Jane is now choosing
to maintain rather than strangle the child, because the child is now necessary to keep a
barrier between herself and Rochester. Prior to this scene, Jane believed Miss Ingram was
15
the barrier. Now that Miss Ingram no longer poses a threat, Jane must recognize that she
needs to distance herself from Rochester. The growing child is a symbol of Jane’s
growing need for a barrier between herself and Rochester.
The second dream Jane tells Rochester about is comparable with the latter one,
but the child continues to grow and strengthen until, in the following sequence, nearly
succeeds in strangling Jane. In this last sequence, Jane describes the physical hold the
child has over her:
I dreamt another dream, sir: that Thornfield Hall was a dreary ruin, the retreat of
bats and owls. I thought that of all the stately front nothing remained but a shelllike wall, very high and fragile looking. I wandered, on a moonlight night,
through the grass grown enclosure within: here I stumbled over a marble hearth,
and there over a fragment of cornice. Wrapped up in a shawl, I still carried the
unknown little child: I might not lay it down anywhere, however tired were my
arms—however much its weight impeded my progress, I must retain it. I heard
the gallop of a horse at a distant on the road; I was sure it was you; and you were
departing for many years, and for a distant country. I climbed the thin wall with
frantic, perilous haste, eager to catch one glimpse of you from the top: the stones
rolled from under my feet, the ivy branches I grasped gave way, the child clung
round my neck in terror, and almost strangled me: at last I gained the summit. I
saw you like a speck on a white track, lessening every moment. The blast grew so
strong I could not stand. I sat down on the narrow ledge; I hushed the scared
infant in my lap: you turned an angle of the road: I bent forward to take a last
look; the wall crumbled; I was shaken; the child rolled from my knee, I lost my
balance, fell, and awoke. (324)
Although the child is merely a psychological manifestation of Jane’s need for distance,
the scene is once again visceral and violent. She describes the child as clinging to her
neck in “terror” and describes how it nearly “strangled” her. This image contrasts with
Jane’s initial encounter with the child, when it was a mere “newborn agony” that she tried
to strangle and kill. The “deformed” infant grew into a feeble “little child,” and has now
acquired enough potency to pose a physical threat to Jane. This final scene symbolizes
16
how Jane’s rational need for physical distance is continuing to grow and strengthen, and
is beginning to dominate her physical desires for proximity to Rochester.7
Brontë symbolizes Jane’s growing need for distance through the growth of the
child in these psychological sequences. Jane initially refuses the child and wants to
murder it, but as time passes and her intimacy with Rochester increases, she claims she is
“burdened” with its charge, and finally, in this last dream sequence, she asserts, “I might
not lay it down anywhere, however tired were my arms—however much its weight
impeded my progress, I must retain it.” She progresses from wanting to kill the newborn,
to tolerating the small child it grows into, until ultimately she feels a sense of loyalty and
commitment to this child, and is unable to let it go. Despite her physical exhaustion, she
refuses to lay the child down. Jane is now in full possession of her charge, who continues
to “impede” her “progress” towards Rochester, who is “lessening every moment.” She
has chosen to retain the child not in spite of the fact that it impedes her progress to
Rochester, but rather because it forces her to maintain her distance from him. In her essay
entitled “The Dream to Repose on,” Susan Ostrov Weisser asserts that “Brontë
reconceptualizes sexual love as a ‘power’ which must itself be resisted” (53). Weisser’s
assertions are particularly relevant to Jane’s dream sequences because these sequences
are primarily concerned with Jane’s abilities to overcome, or at least control her physical
desires for Rochester and place barriers between herself and him.
Finally, Jane hushes the “scared infant” that ceases its crying only after Rochester
“turned an angle in the road” and Jane takes a “last look” before losing sight of him. Even
7
Although I argue that the child is a symbol for Jane’s need for distance, many psychoanalytic critics such
as Michelle Masse assert that the child in Jane’s dream sequences are a representation of Jane’s childhood
and her acute need for love and affection. Alternately, the child can be seen as the consummation of desire
that ultimately ends desire for Jane.
17
though Jane refuses to let go of the child, she also refuses to stop trying to reach
Rochester. Robert B. Heilman comments on the significance of the dream sequences
claiming, “Jane’s strange, fearful symbolic dreams are not mere thrillers but reflect the
tensions of the engagement” (460). Clearly, these dreams are psychological illustrations
of Jane’s struggle, and the tension she feels because of the permanent physical threat of
proximity that marriage poses. She is struggling to retain her distance and proximity with
Rochester simultaneously, without being consumed by the threat of continuous proximity
that marriage promises. However, it becomes apparent in this final sequence that the
battle between distance and proximity is slowly being won by Jane’s psychological need
to separate herself from Rochester.
As stated earlier, Jane must be able to retain her integrity by retaining her
individual identity in the face of her passion for Rochester because for Jane, “the self is
all one has,” and she is in jeopardy of losing that sense of self to her desires for another
(Eagleton 24). In other words, by giving in to her desires for Rochester, she would be
abdicating a part of herself to Rochester. She claims she must keep his love “in
reasonable check” because her “future husband was becoming [her] whole world; and
more than the world; almost [her] hope of heaven” (315). Clearly, Jane recognizes the
danger of her desires because she asserts Rochester is becoming her everything, and she
must keep his love and affection at a “distance” claiming it will be to their “mutual
advantage” (314). Passion is equivalent with sexuality for Jane, and her need for
distance from sexuality is crucial because sexual desire is a physically consuming
emotion. Weisser, like Yeazell, states that sexuality can “signify death” because it is
18
“complete surrender to another or a total abnegation of a character’s humanity” (2).8
Jane recognizes this possibility, and expresses her growing sense of anxiety claiming, “I
both wished and feared to see Mr. Rochester on the day which followed this sleepless
night: I wanted to hear his voice again, yet feared to meet his eye” (172). She recognizes
subconsciously that there is an acute need to maintain a sense of balance between her
physical desire for proximity to Rochester and her rational9 need for distance from him in
this passage, as she expresses the fear and joy she encounters internally at the thought of
being close to him once again.
Janet Gezari comments on Jane’s internal struggle claiming that Brontë utilizes
the body as a battle site that engages “with acts of self-defense and self vindication, and
its representation of the body as the site of emotional and psychological struggle—are
interdependent” (3). This idea is clearly relevant to Jane’s internal conflict, as her need to
maintain physical distance from Rochester is an act of self-defense. Jane’s struggle
manifests itself from within, and as Gezari points out, her body is the site of an emotional
and psychological struggle. This is crucial to Jane’s struggle because despite the fact that
her desire for proximity and her need for distance are conflicting sensations, they also
function to maintain a sense of balance within Jane.
The tension between Jane’s physical desire for proximity to Rochester and her
psychological need for distance from him reaches a climax when the sickly child from
her dreams grows into the masculine Conscience, and uses his “iron fist” to strangle
Jane’s passions. The scene occurs after Jane learns of Rochester’s marriage to Bertha,
8
In The Madwoman in the Attic, Gilbert and Gubar also discuss the negative effects of uncontrolled
passion in the novel and assert that Bertha is a metaphorical representation of what Jane would become if
she succumbed entirely to passion.
9
As physical desires are irrational, the psychological recognition of a need for distance form her love
interest is Jane’s sense of rationality in the situation.
19
and she finds herself tempted to remain at Thornfield as Rochester’s mistress. However,
Jane’s conscience steps in and, in a tyrannical manner, prevents Jane from succumbing to
the temptation of continual physical proximity to Rochester. The internal struggle in this
scene illustrates how Jane’s need to maintain her integrity through distance overpowers
her physical desires. Referring directly to the idea of leaving Rochester, Jane says:
“I cannot do it.” But then a voice within me averred that I could do it, and
foretold that I should do it. I wrestled with my own resolution: I wanted to be
weak that I might avoid the awful passage of further suffering I saw laid out
for me; and Conscience, turned tyrant, held passion by the throat, told her
tauntingly, she had yet but dipped her dainty feet in the slough, and swore that
with that arm of iron he would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony.
(341)
Jane’s conscience and need for physical distance has now gone from a “deformed”
infant, a sickly child, to a full-grown man. The rape imagery is visceral and disturbing,
illustrating how intense and climactic her struggle has become. Conscience, who is
insisting on physical distance in order to keep Jane away from Rochester and maintain
her integrity, is ironically a sexualized rapist in this scene10. Her conscience acts in her
own interest, however, because her conscience forces Jane to reject Rochester’s entreaties
by “thrusting” down Jane’s passions and keeping those passions controlled and subdued.
Her conscience functions as a defense mechanism against Rochester and allows her to
resist Rochester rather than capitulating to his wishes, which would violate her integrity.
John Maynard comments on Rochester’s pleas to make Jane his mistress, claiming,
“[t]here is no question that his way of overcoming her scruples is in itself a kind of
attempted rape, a violation of her conscience that would allow him to touch her body”
(112).
10
Conscience and integrity are interchangeable terms in my reading of the text because they both function
to preserve Jane’s desires by preventing her from giving in to Rochester’s desires.
20
Ironically, Jane’s means of self-preservation are manifested in a sexually violent
manner. Conscience, using his “arm of iron” to “thrust her [passion] down” to
“unsounded depths of agony” is blatantly phallic and representative of violent sexuality.
Jane describes her conscience as having “turned tyrant” and holding “passion by the
throat,” which again suggests strangulation. She has nurtured this sickly infant and it has
now grown in size and strength. She claims that she “wanted to be weak” and “avoid the
awful passage of further suffering,” but as “conscience turned tyrant,” Jane knows she
will be forced to leave Rochester. As we will see in later chapters, the act of leaving him
ensures that the physical tension, which would have disappeared after their marriage, will
continue to thrive between them, and that Jane will be able to ensure her own sense of
integrity by refusing to become Rochester’s mistress. Moglen asserts, “[d]espite the pain
of her conflict, she has acted decisively to preserve her own integrity” (102). As we have
seen, Jane’s internal struggle between her conscience and her passion is manifested in a
painful and violent sexual manner indicative of a rape scene, in which the masculine
conscience rapes the feminized passion. However, Jane’s violent psychological images
are actually a means of allowing her to preserve her integrity and prevent her from
succumbing to Rochester’s as well as her own desires.
21
Chapter Two: Jane’s External Struggle
“Our passions do not live apart in locked chambers, but, dressed in their small wardrobe
of notions, bring their provisions to a common table and mess together, feeding out of the
common store according to their appetite”— George Eliot, Middlemarch
The tension between Jane and Rochester is a principal focal point for numerous critics in
their discussions of Jane Eyre. Peter J. Bellis claims that “[t]he struggle between Jane and
Rochester is embodied in a conflict between two different modes of vision” (639). He
asserts that the tension arises from Rochester’s penetrating male gaze conflicting with
Jane’s efforts to “withhold” herself from that gaze (639). John Maynard also remarks on
this issue, asserting that “Jane resolves to keep Rochester a good distance from her” and
that “[s]ex has become something to be approached as a conflict (122). In more general
terms, Terry Eagleton states that Charlotte Bronte’s novels “dramatize a society in which
almost all human relationships are power struggles” (30). It is apparent that tension has
been the subject of considerable discussion among critics and will continue to be a point
of debate.
As discussed in Chapter One, Jane’s internal struggle was primarily with a
conflict between her desire for physical proximity to Rochester and her need to maintain
a sense of distance from him. The tension between the need for distance and the desire
for physical proximity is prevalent throughout the course of the novel, and extends
beyond Jane’s internal conflict, however, and this extension demonstrates that tension in
Jane Eyre can be the product of an external conflict as well as an internal one. The
internal conflict Jane endures is reproduced externally in her relationship with Rochester,
with Rochester’s desire for physical proximity conflicting with Jane’s desire for distance.
22
The result of this external conflict between the two characters is a healthy tension within
their relationship that serves to ensure that Jane and Rochester never fully satisfy their
desires, causing those desires to strengthen and grow, something I will illustrate as the
chapter progresses.
Rochester utilizes his position as Jane’s employer to force her into
physical proximity with him in order to maintain control of their relationship as well
Jane’s emotions. One of the first instances of Rochester manipulating Jane occurs after
the arrival of Miss Ingram and Rochester’s other socialite acquaintances at Thornfield
Hall. Jane already finds herself growing uneasy at their presence in the house, claiming “I
was beginning to feel a strange chill,” a “failing at the heart” and “a sickening sense of
disappointment” (183). She soon calls her “senses to order,” however, in an effort to get
“over the temporary blunder” of her intimate feelings for Mr. Rochester (183). She finds
herself resolved to remain rational under the circumstances. However, Rochester
dampens Jane’s resolve by forcing her into his and Miss Ingram’s presence. Mrs. Fairfax
informs Jane that Mr. Rochester has ordered Adele to join their party and “request[s]
Miss Eyre to accompany her” (191). Jane tries to reject this proposal in order to maintain
her distance, claiming, “Yes; he said that from mere politeness: I need not go, I am sure”
(191). Her wishes are thwarted, however, when Mrs. Fairfax states:
I observed to him you were unused to company…and he replied in his quick way,
‘Nonsense! If she objects, tell her it is my particular wish; and if she resists, say I
shall come and fetch her in case of contumacy.’ (191)
This quote clearly illustrates how Rochester is manipulating his status as Jane’s employer
to force her into his presence. He claims he will “fetch her in case of contumacy,”
suggesting that a rejection of his invitation would be comparable with disobedient
23
resistance to authority. Jane finds herself unable to escape the desires of her master and
asserts with some defeat, “I will go, if no better may be, but I don’t like it (191).
Jane finds herself entwined in a painful state of pleasure when she is in physical
proximity with Rochester after being forced into his company and made to observe his
actions with Miss Ingram. As the party enters the drawing room, shortly followed by Mr.
Rochester, Jane finds herself overwhelmed with the emotions. She states:
My eyes were drawn involuntarily to his face; I could not keep their lids under
control…I looked and had an acute pleasure in looking—a precious yet poignant
pleasure; pure gold with a steely point of agony: a pleasure like what the thirstperishing man might feel who knows the well to which he has crept is poisoned,
yet stoops and drinks divine draughts nevertheless. (197)
It is evident from this quote that although Jane resists physical proximity to Rochester,
she derives an acute sense of pleasure from being near him. Her pleasure is described as
being mixed with pain. The “steely point of agony” suggests a perverse sort of pleasure
that will only result in more pain. It is a poisonous pleasure, but a form of pleasure
nonetheless. Jane admits to the fact that Rochester exerts control over her emotions when
she confesses, “[he] took my feelings from my own power and fettered them in his” (197198).
Even when Jane sees she has “time to slip away” from Rochester unnoticed, her
own physical desires for proximity summon her back into his presence, further
illustrating that Jane does derive a sense of pleasure (albeit painful pleasure) from being
close to him (204). Just as she escapes from the drawing room unnoticed, she is drawn
back at the sound of Rochester’s voice as he sings with Miss Ingram. She describes this
voice as:
[m]ellow, powerful bass, into which he threw his own feeling, his own force;
finding a way through the ear to the heart, and there waking sensation strangely. I
24
waited till the last deep and full vibration had expired…and made my exit by the
side door. (204)
The scene prior this one illustrates how Rochester exerts control over Jane’s vision. In
this scene, it is evident that he has also exerts control over Jane’s auditory senses as well,
paralyzing her, and seducing her into remaining in the drawing room until “the last deep
and full vibration had expired.” It is clear that when Jane is in close physical proximity to
Mr. Rochester, she loses a sense of self-control that her rational need for distance
struggles to keep intact.
Finally, Jane leaves the room in an effort to escape Rochester’s power over her.
Upon exiting the drawing room however, Jane is once again summoned by Rochester,
who follows her out of the room and orders her to “return to the drawing room” on the
grounds that she is “deserting too early” (204). He begins questioning her and accusing
her of being “a little depressed” and unsociable (204). He continues to pressure her for an
explanation as he is “face to face” with her, and in a climactic moment, her emotions
surge forth and she begins to cry, giving in to Rochester’s unspoken wishes for complete
control over her emotions. He thrives on these types of encounters because it gives him a
sense of power over Jane.
Jane understands that the result of continued physical proximity will result in the
loss of self. Adrienne Rich comments on the idea that Jane does not want to lose herself
to another by contrasting Jane with Emily Bronte’s heroine, Catherine of Wuthering
Heights. While Catherine revels in being consumed by another, and asserting she is her
lover, Jane asserts her need for individuality. Rich states, “Charlotte Bronte is writing—
not a Bildungsroman-but the life story of a woman who is incapable of saying I am
25
Heathcliff because she feels so unalterably herself (463). Jane is an individual who
recognizes that the price of surrendering to one’s desires is the loss of self.
In order to avoid losing herself to Rochester, which would simultaneously
destroy the tension in their relationship, Jane must retain her distance. It is only through
the constant tension of their opposing desires that Jane and Rochester’s relationship can
succeed because the tension created by the opposition reinforces and ensures that their
desires for one another thrive, as satisfaction would promptly put an end to desire. Jean
Wyatt comments on this idea, claiming:
Since possession takes the edge off passion, brings it down to the level of everyday
experience, what the lovers need is not so much one another’s presence as one
another’s absence. (202)
This quote illustrates why tension is a necessity in Jane and Rochester’s relationship. She
recognizes not only the possibility of losing herself to her desires for Rochester, but also
the fear of losing her desire through the act of gratification. The danger of possession
becomes evident in the drawing room passage, when Jane not only loses control over her
emotions, but her physical actions as well. She claims her eyes are drawn “involuntarily”
to Rochester, and that her emotions are a bittersweet combination of pleasure and pain.
Rochester is in possession of her, and as Wyatt asserts, it is possession that “takes the
edge off passion” (202). She cannot succumb to Rochester’s desire for physical
proximity, because in doing so, she would be abandoning her own need for distance from
him, thus ending the healthy sense of tension on which their relationship thrives.
Jane asserts control over the situation by placing physical distance between
herself and Rochester. This distance is vital to their relationship because, as Wyatt
claims, “what the lovers need” is “absence” from one another rather than presence in
26
order to maintain their mutual desires. Jane asserts she will leave Thornfield temporarily
to visit her dying Aunt Reed, who serves as a plot device Bronte employs to allow Jane to
gain footing with Mr. Rochester by giving her a reasonable excuse for physical distance
from him. She cannot refuse the request of a dying relative, and it becomes a socially
acceptable way of allowing Jane to regain control of the situation. Rochester is forced to
give in to Jane’s request for distance, and Jane is able to reassert her own authority into
their relationship.
Rochester initially refuses Jane’s request for a leave of absence in an effort to keep her at
Thornfield:
What good can you do her? Nonsense, Jane! I would never think of running a
hundred miles to see an old lady who will, perhaps, be dead before you reach her?
(255)
Rochester asserts he would never act in such a way and questions the length of her of
absence, trying to force a promise from her not to stay away for longer than a week. She
responds, claiming she will “not pass” her “word” on any length of time, and therefore
succeeds in increasing Rochester’s anxiety with the thought of her departure by omitting
an exact return date. At this point in their relationship, Jane is slowly gaining control of
the situation by withholding information from him. Rochester’s concerns are increased
and this becomes apparent when he states, “[a]t all events you will come back: you will
not be induced under any pretext to take up permanent residence with her?” (256). Jane
responds that she will return, but it is apparent through this sequence of dialogue that she
is gaining control of their relationship by employing the threat of physical distance.
Immediately after her departure from Thornfield and Mr. Rochester, Jane
declares, “I experienced firmer trust in myself and my own powers” while the “dread of
27
oppression” fades, illustrating how distance from Rochester allows Jane to regain control
over her and emotions and physical senses (260). Her return to Thornfield however, is
marked by an acute “pleasure in meeting” her “master” mixed with “fear,” because she
finds herself once again losing control over her emotions (280). After continually
retaining a sense of physical proximity to Jane, Rochester heightens her sense of desire
for him, by allowing her to believe that Miss Ingram will be a permanent barrier between
them, creating a sense of “pleasure” and “fear” within her, and making it so she has
“never love[d] him so well” (282). When Jane is thoroughly in love with him, Rochester
lies and tells her he hopes to “be a bridegroom” in a month and tells Jane she must find
employment elsewhere. The situation results in one similar to the drawing room scene:
Jane’s “tears gushed out” and she “sobbed convulsively…shaken from head to foot with
acute distress” (289). After a climactic scene of tears and convulsions, in which
Rochester is satisfied by Jane’s vulnerable display, he claims that it is Jane he wants to
take as a wife.
In her book, The Body in Pain, Elaine Scarry explains how proximity is utilized
by the torturer to heighten the pain of the victim. The description of torture Scarry
discusses is clearly relevant to Jane’s relationship with Rochester because he tortures
Jane psychologically by forcing her into physical proximity with him while he declares
his love for another woman. Scarry asserts that in testimonies of torture victims, almost
all “inevitably include descriptions of being made to stare at the weapon with which they
were about to be hurt” (27). This component of torture is one Rochester employs in the
text. Rochester is the torturer, and he uses Miss Ingram as the weapon. Jane is the torture
victim forced into intimate physical moments with the weapon by which she knows she is
28
“about to be hurt” because Rochester forces Jane to observe his “courtship” with Miss
Ingram. Scarry goes on to assert that “torture is a process which not only converts but
announces the conversion of every conceivable aspect of the event and environment into
an agent of pain” (28). This concept also describes Jane’s situation, because Rochester
ensures and prolongs Jane’s agony by going to great lengths to announce the necessity of
her departure from Thornfield and everything she loves because of his engagement to
Miss Ingram. He protracts the charade to make his torture victim “sob convulsively”
(285). The passages from Scarry’s text as they pertain to Jane Eyre illustrate the danger
of proximity for Jane because it places her in the position of the victim, or the tortured.
As the victim, Jane has no control over the situation, as it all lies in the hands of the
torturer.
Rochester tortures her by enforcing her proximity to him, and then prolongs her
pain by asserting that she must leave him as he is to be married. In doing so, he prompts
Jane to “answer” whether or not she will be “sorry to leave? (289).” Scarry’s comments
on the interrogation of the prisoner offer some insight to Rochester’s actions. Scarry
claims that “[p]ain and interrogation inevitably occur together because the torturer and
prisoner experience them as opposites” (29). This assertion is clearly pertinent to
Rochester’s motives, as he seeks to torture a confession of love from Jane by creating a
“vehemence of emotion” within her “stirred by grief and love” (289). The interrogation is
a source of pain for Jane because it forces her to come to terms with her permanent
separation from Rochester. In opposition to Jane’s emotions, Rochester gains pleasure
from Jane’s pain because it is through her pain that he is able to gain control over her
emotions. In other words, the “prisoner” and “torturer” experience “pain and
29
interrogation” as “opposites” because Jane feels pain, and Rochester feels pleasure at the
sight of Jane in pain. The experience of opposition does not just occur externally between
Jane and Rochester however, but also within Jane, who feels pain and pleasure
simultaneously through these interactions. Her pleasure derives from being near
Rochester and being made to face her desires, while her pain comes from Rochester’s
admonition of love for another and her eventual permanent separation from him. Scarry
asserts that “Torture, then…consists of a primary physical act, the infliction of pain, and
a primary verbal act, the interrogation. The verbal act consists of two parts, ‘the question’
and ‘the answer’ (35). This is exactly what Rochester seeks to do with Jane. Jane, the
torture victim answers appropriately by admitting that she “grieve[s] to leave Thornfield”
and confessing that it “strikes [her] with terror and anguish to feel [she] absolutely must
be torn from [Rochester] forever” (289). Jane has played the role of the torture victim
well, because she has given an adequate confession to the torturer’s “question,” and as a
result, the “infliction of pain” will stop because Rochester will admit that he is not
engaged and she need not leave him. The torture Jane endures at the hands of Rochester
is painful, but still a pain mixed with a degree of pleasure that serves to heighten her
emotions and desires for Rochester. As we will see in Chapter Three, there are certain
types of pain Jane will not endure. She rejects the kind of pain her cousin, St. John tries
to inflict upon her because it is pain for pain’s sake. Jane only endures pain that serves to
heighten her emotions and desires.
After Jane and Rochester acknowledge their mutual desires for one another and
become engaged, Jane continues to ensure that the tension between them subsists. Prior
to their engagement, Miss Ingram served as a convenient barrier allowing Jane to be
30
simultaneously close to and distant from Rochester, whom she believed was as good as
married. Upon the revelation of the engagement as a hoax, however, Jane is forced to rely
on her actions and language to maintain her distance, thereby ensuring that the tension
remains in their relationship. She tells Rochester that she will not “sink into a bathos of
sentiment” and that “distance between [herself] and [Rochester]” is “most conducive”
and to their “mutual advantage” (314). The result of Jane’s rejection of proximity and
sentimentality is a heightened sense of mutual desire for both characters. Jane asserts:
The system I thus entered on, I pursued during the whole season of probation; and
with the best success. He was kept, to be sure, rather cross and crusty; but on the
whole I could see he was excellently entertained, and that a lamb-like submission
and turtledove sensibility, while fostering his despotism more, would have
pleased his judgment, satisfied his common sense, and even suited his taste less.
(314)
It is apparent from the latter quote that despite Rochester’s protests and exaggerated
frustration at Jane’s behavior, that he enjoys the continual tension of their relationship
because it is intriguing. Jane declares her “system” was a “success” as it kept Rochester
“entertained,” but also at a distance from her. Jane will not succumb to a state of “lamblike submission.” The word choice of lamb here is interesting as it implies that Jane
refuses to act as a sacrificial figure to Rochester’s desires. Instead, he is kept “cross and
crusty,” as Jane refuses to give into his requests. The frustration of deferring pleasure is
for Jane a way of maintaining desire as she prefers “fierce favors to anything more
tender,” but also a way of preventing Rochester from controlling their relationship (314).
Jane claims the thought of her impending marriage was “something stronger than was
consistent with joy—something that smote and stunned: it was…almost fear” (296). The
idea of continual proximity is a source of fear for Jane because it means giving up the
blissful, painful tension their relationship is based on. Continual proximity with
31
Rochester will result in the demise of their “seductive discourse” because this discourse
is only seductive for these characters when they are at odds with one another (Kaplan 82).
If they were to succumb to a relationship without conflict or pressure, then it would cease
to be intriguing because the delightful tension Jane thrives on would dissipate. Yeazell
comments on the necessity of courtship tensions, claiming:
The banter in which she delights serves to attract as well as repel; if it keeps the
lovers at arm’s length, it also intensifies their mutual desire. The tension generated by
the lovers’ verbal play thus reflects the dialectic of the entire novel. (141-142)
In other words, the “banter” Jane engages in is a means of heightening their “mutual
desire” through tension. Jane’s verbal rebukes “attract” and “repel” simultaneously,
which is necessary to maintain the state of conflicting desires in the text. The reason
verbal banter is so necessary to Jane is because she has a “desire for desire,” something
Denis deRougemont asserts is crucial to romantic love in the western world. Jane
increases the tension in her relationship in order to increase desire, and avoid succumbing
to satisfaction, which would result in the destruction of her desires.
The struggle Jane faces in her relationship with Rochester reaches a climax after
Jane learns of his marriage to Bertha and refuses to become his mistress. The scene
mirrors Jane’s internal struggle between her conscience and her passion, with Rochester
acting as the voice of passion and Jane acting as the voice of conscience. Jane’s
intentions are evident almost immediately, as she rejects Rochester. She refuses to speak,
touch or listen to him, thereby denying him the pleasure of control over her senses and
emotions. Additionally, upon first learning about Bertha, she refuses to go near
Rochester, and keeps herself separated from him by locking herself in her room. After
32
continually increasing his suspense by remaining apart from him, she emerges from her
quarters in the following scene to find him waiting patiently outside her door:
“You come out at last,” he said. “Well I have been waiting for you long, and
listening: yet not one movement have I heard, nor one sob: five minutes more of
that deathlike hush, and I should have forced the lock like a burglar. So you shun
me?—you shut yourself up and grieve alone! I would rather you had come and
upbraided me with vehemence…I expected a scene of some kind…But I err: you
have not wept at all!...Well Jane! Not a word of reproach! Nothing bitter—
nothing poignant? Nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion?” (342)
It is evident from the latter quote that because Jane withholds and conceals her physical
emotions and feelings, Rochester’s increase. Jane denies Rochester the satisfaction of
being able to control her physical senses in this scenario, and this denial in turn seems to
heighten his passion. Prior to this event, Rochester has been able to control her emotions,
as she burst forth in tears and anger at his actions. He has evoked her sensual side and
had intimate moments with her in which she tells him she loves him and they kiss
passionately. While Rochester longs to evoke emotion from Jane in this scene, (i.e. her
“hot tears” and drenched handkerchief), because it is a source of power for him, he
cannot. Instead, Jane presents herself as being devoid of emotions. She “sits quietly”
regarding Rochester with “a weary, passive look” (342). He asks her if she will ever
forgive him and she tells the reader, “I forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly”
(343). This statement suggests that she is intentionally refusing to acknowledge her
physical desires in order to punish Rochester and exert control of the situation.
Withholding her physical desires from Rochester is a way of maintaining distance from
him and simultaneously asserting herself as the figure of authority in the scene.
As Jane maintains her composure and calmly denies Rochester’s entreaties,
Rochester, in turn, loses control of his emotions. She firmly informs Rochester she has no
33
intentions of going to the Mediterranean with him; “take Adele with you, sir,” she
suggests (347). Rochester understands her meaning and is infuriated. Jane remains
perfectly composed, and the more composed she is, the more enraged Rochester becomes
as a result. He yells, “Jane, will you hear reason?” and threatens her that if she will not
then he will “ try violence” (347). Jane remains collected; in juxtaposition to her
composure, Rochester is becoming a slave to his senses. Jane describes him:
His voice was hoarse; his look that of a wild man who is just about to burst an
insufferable bond and plunge headlong into wild license. I saw that in another
moment, and with one impetus of frenzy more, I should be able to do nothing
with him. The present—the passing second of time—was all I had in which to
control and restrain him…But I was not afraid: not in the least. I felt an inward
power; a sense of influence which supported me. The crisis was perilous; but not
without its charm. (347)
This quote illustrates that while Rochester loses control over his senses, Jane is
simultaneously able to keep hers in control. In fact, Rochester’s increasing loss of control
seems to increase Jane’s control and composure. This is largely because she is able to
control Rochester’s emotions by threatening to distance herself from him. The scene
shows that Jane is calculating Rochester’s actions. She realizes she has a few moments to
“control and restrain him” and that his wild, animalistic behavior is a source of power for
her because the more agitated he grows, the more she finds she possesses “an inward
power.” She claims that the “crisis was perilous; but not without its charm.” The crisis,
she finds, is charming and invigorating, because the fact that Rochester is already married
will ensure that Jane is able to retain a sense of distance from him. Ultimately, although
she is saddened at the discovery of his wife, there is also a sense of relief for Jane
because she is able to maintain control over her emotions by asserting her need for
distance once again.
34
The most intense example of Jane’s internal conflict being externalized occurs
just prior to Jane’s departure from Thornfield. The scene mirrors her internal struggle in
the previous chapter, in which Jane’s conscience rapes her passion in an effort to force
her into defending her integrity. Jane’s need for distance in this section of the book
becomes a dominant force, and allows her to reassert control over her relationship with
Rochester just as her conscience was able to control her. Jane becomes the masculine
voice of conscience by refusing to stay with Rochester, and Rochester acts as the
feminized voice of passion by trying to impose continued proximity with Jane,
illustrating how these scenes are reproductions of Jane’s internal struggle.
Ultimately, Jane and Rochester’s hindered marriage is necessary to the survival of
their relationship because it allows the tension between them to progress rather than
dissipate as it would if the marriage had gone on uninterrupted. Although Jane is pained
at the news of Bertha’s existence, she is simultaneously relieved because this revelation
gives her an opportunity to reassert her own authority into their relationship, thereby
allowing the intriguing power struggle to continue and strengthen rather than dwindle and
expire. Without the presence of Bertha, Jane would be forced into continual proximity
with Rochester through marriage. Bertha, however, is a means by which Jane can
continue to establish a reasonable need for distance from him. The relationship between
these two characters thrives on the tension between the desires for distance and
proximity, just as Jane thrives on her own internal struggle between her conscience and
her passion.
35
Chapter Three: Pain Without Pleasure
“He beats me and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! Would it were otherwise—that I
could beat him while he railed at me.”—Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida
The struggle Jane faces internally as well as the struggle Jane and Rochester face
in their relationship are both accompanied by a certain type of pain and tension.
Ultimately, Brontë uses pain to ensure that the healthy sense of tension in Jane and
Rochester’s relationship remains potent and effective. It may seem that in giving such a
positive role to pain in this novel is championing the value of the idea of pain for pain’s
sake, but, in actuality, the pain that results from Jane and Rochester’s relationship is a
means of preserving Jane’s desire and integrity. Brontë makes a point of distinguishing
between pain for pleasure’s sake and pain for pain’s sake, and ultimately characterizes
the former as desirable and the latter as unacceptable.
While Jane’s internal and external struggles are examples of pain for pleasure’s
sake, Jane also briefly encounters a relationship based on pain for pain’s sake. This
relationship is with her cousin, St. John Rivers. Many critics writing on the subject of St.
John and dominance agree that he is a threat to Jane’s character. They credit St. John with
the ability to control and manipulate Jane. In her article entitled “Sadomasochism in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre,” Margaret Hanley asserts:
The relationship and the setting that most repeat the sado-masochistic
childhood motifs are the relationship with St John Rivers and the setting at
Marsh End. (1055)
Hanley goes on to explain the relations between St. John and Jane, claiming that “there is
a dreadful potency in St. John’s influence over Jane” and that his “mastery” over her is
“strong and painful” (1058, 1056). Arguing for a somewhat different king of mastery,
Patricia Menon argues in her book, Austen, Eliot, Brontë, and the Mentor Lover that
36
Jane’s relationship to St. John is one comparable to that of a student to a teacher. Menon
asserts that “[...]it is the power inherent in St. John’s mentorship that dominates Jane’s
perception of the relationship,” and goes on to claim that St. John’s “intellectual
superiority” would eventually contribute “to the formation of a relationship of dominance
and submission” with Jane in the position of the masochist (102).
In addition to the latter critics, others assert that St. John’s sadistic nature poses a
threat to Jane because she is a masochist. John Maynard makes the argument that St. John
“tempts” Jane “as Satan did Christ” (133). He expands on his argument, claiming that
“[i]n St. John, Jane finds a far more serious threat to her independence than any
Rochester ever posed” because St. John is a sadist in need of a masochist over whom to
exert authority (134). Robert Keefe is in complete concurrence with Maynard, asserting
that “of all [Jane’s] male enemies, the young clergyman [St. John] represents the ultimate
threat to her existence” and his “insatiable lust for power” will eventually lead to her
“destruction” (111). Ruth Bernard Yeazall agrees with Keefe and Maynard, and makes a
similar assertion stating: “the threat to Jane’s integrity […] comes from St. John Rivers”
(139).
Critics are not entirely wrong in these assertions because there is a brief time within the
text that could lead readers to believe that St. John exercises complete control over Jane’s
actions and emotions. In order for me to address and respond to this counterargument
against my claim in this chapter, it is first necessary to examine the passages in which St.
John proposes marriage, as these passages are most commonly cited by critics making the
argument that St. John is in control of Jane.
37
In these passages, it appears at first that St. John is making some progress in
winning Jane over to his control, as she begins to “shudder” when he speaks, and
describes herself as falling “under a freezing spell” that makes her “daily wis[h] to please
him more” after he proposes marriage (469, 460). She is averse to the idea of marriage
with St. John, claiming her “heart is mute” to his proposal and he claims he must “speak
for it” (464). For the course of several pages, St. John tries to wear Jane down, insisting
that it is God’s will to see them joined. He informs Jane that he “claims” her “not for
[his] pleasure, but for [his] Sovereign’s service” (465). He asserts that marriage is no
form of pleasure for him, but only a means to achieve religious goals for his “Sovereign’s
service.” What many critics do not take into account during this brief time in the novel,
however, are the various ways in which Jane seeks to counteract St. John’s advances, and
her ultimate success in doing so.
Upon St. John’s first proposal, it becomes apparent to readers that Jane is
guarding herself against him. She claims: “[m]y iron shroud contracted around me”
(466). She then tells him outright that “nothing speaks or stirs” in her when he “speaks,”
and that she is “sensible of no light kindling—no life quickening—no voice counseling or
cheering” (466). During her encounters with Rochester, Jane is often in danger of losing
herself to her desires, but in this scene the ”iron shroud” contracted around her ensures
that St. John poses no threat to her: he cannot penetrate the shroud as Rochester can.
Jane’s primary objection to St. John is the fact that he does not love her as a man should
love his wife, nor does she love him as a wife should a husband. She tells readers, “he
prizes me as a soldier would a good weapon” (468). When she informs St. John that she
will not marry a man with whom she does not share mutual affection, he tries to induce
38
her to marry on religious terms claiming, “I cannot accept on His [God’s] behalf a
divided allegiance: it must be entire.” At this point Jane sarcastically reproaches him,
stating, “ Oh! I will give my heart to God...You do not want it! (469).” St. John is shocked
into silence at her rebuke of his offer. This outburst illustrates that Jane rejects the idea of
marriage without love, and in addition to her “iron shroud,” she uses her sharp tongue to
rebuff St. John’s entreaties.
Despite the fact that Masse, Menon, and Maynard, etc. all assert that St. John is
the character who most threatens Jane’s independence, and that their relationship
exemplifies sadomasochistic traits more than any other relationship in the book, it is
apparent that Jane does not submit to the role of the masochist in these scenarios as she
“scorn[s] the counterfeit sentiments[St. John ] offers” and rejects him (472). It is true
that St. John is indeed, a sadist, but he is not Jane’s sadist. She refuses him at every turn,
refusing him physically, verbally and visually. Although she admits he is attractive, she
asserts she has “only sisterly affection for him” as he does not appeal to her physically
(481). He is unable to penetrate her sensory desires, because he rejects these desires in
himself and “should despise himself” if he succumbed to a “love of the senses” (454).
Critics seem to believe that it is St. John’s cold, marble-like features and hard ways that
make Jane vulnerable to his entreaties, when these qualities in fact constitute her primary
defense against him. He does not provoke her emotions as Rochester does, and can
therefore have no real effect on her character.
That St. John cannot control Jane with his cold nature first becomes evident after
he finds employment for her at a local schoolhouse, and their relationship begins to
develop. He begins by trying to control her through the act of withholding information.
39
During a particular conversation with her, St. John claims that he has some news for her,
but would “rather not now” tell her. She states, “You must!” but he denies her entreaties
and the following conversation ensues as a result of his rejection of her wishes:
“But I apprised you that I was a hard man”
“And I am a hard woman—impossible to put off.”
“And then” he pursued, “I am cold: no fervor infects me.”
“Whereas I am hot, and fire dissolves ice. The blaze there has thawed all the snow
from your cloak…”
“I yield; if not to your earnestness, to your perseverance: as stone is worn by
continual dropping.” (443)
This conversation occurs right before Jane learns of her inheritance from a distant uncle,
but even at this moment before her financial stability is guaranteed, it is Jane, not St.
John, who seems to possess the power in their relationship.11 She does not submit to his
efforts to withhold information, and he capitulates to her wishes in the end. He makes an
effort to control her by withholding knowledge from her until, “[a]nother time,” claiming
that he “would rather have Diana and Mary tell you” (443). Jane promptly rejects these
proposals claiming: “You certainly shall not go until you have told me all” (443). St.
John looks “rather embarrassed” at this point, as Jane blocks the doorway, refusing to
allow him to leave. These actions result in the conversation above in which Jane wears
down St. John’s defense, and ultimately gets her way. Many critics claim that it is St.
John’s “stony presence” and “marble features”—in other words, his cold, hard nature—
that gives him power over Jane, but in this passage, the stone is worn down and Jane
becomes the dominant figure, as she metaphorically “dissolves ice” with her fiery
11
We see in this moment that Jane utilizes her passion to defend herself from St. John. When she is with
Rochester, the extremity of her passion threatens her integrity, as I will demonstrate in chapter four.
Conversely, when she is with St. John, who inspires no desire in her, her passion becomes a mechanism to
prevent desire from withering internally. Rochester and St. John foil one another and in doing so, Brontë
illustrates that while too much passion can consume, extreme self-denial can cause passion to wither, and
some sort of balance must be achieved in order to keep these two extremes alive.
40
passion. It is true that S. John does possess certain emotions, but they consist of pride,
rage and the need for power. She is not in danger of capitulating to a sadist’s emotions,
but rather to someone such as Rochester, who is prone to human sentiments such as love,
passion, and desire.
It becomes apparent that St. John is not a mystery to Jane—on the contrary, she
“kn[o]w[s] his thoughts well and could read his heart plainly[…]”—and that he has no
emotional effect on Jane’s character: despite his coldness, his frustration with Jane makes
St. John burn with anger, and in the end it is he and not Jane who is heated up by their
interactions. As she notes, “I felt calmer and cooler than he” (428). Jane establishes her
sexual indifference to St. John when she describes him as “hard and cold[…]” and says
that she “comprehended all at once that he would hardly make a good husband” (454).
Masse comments on this idea asserting that “[t]he absence of love” and “St. John’s cold
reason[…]let her rebut St. John” (234). His disposition does not appeal to her on an
emotional level. St. John even admits, “[h]uman affections and sympathies have a most
powerful hold on you” (410). This description of Jane’s character further implies that St.
John can have little or no control over her because his unsympathetic nature remains a
“barrier to friendship with him” (404). Jane finds his extreme religiosity and denial of
self-satisfaction in any form to be inhuman, and states it is “trying” and “gloomy” (454).
While Jane is not drawn to St. John’s personality, Brontë makes it clear that he
also has no sensory appeal for her. Throughout her time at Marsh’s end, Jane remains at a
distance from St. John both physically and emotionally. Her thoughts still belong to
Rochester whom she “again and again” meets in her mind when she is alone, and in
response to whom she experiences “the burst of passion” that results from his absence in
41
her life (423-424). She claims he is “cold as an iceberg, and that she is “not happy at his
side” (513). In addition to this, she asserts that he wishes to “stifle and destroy” sensory
pleasures because the “flow of joy” within human beings was something with which “he
could not sympathize” (454-455). His utter disapproval of Jane’s physical pleasure
further ensures that he will be unable to exert control over her.
In addition to Jane’s lack of physical desire for St. John, he can neither withhold
information nor tempt Jane to act on his behalf through language. His voice is dull and
bland to Jane—she describes him speaking “almost like an automaton” –and seems to
exercise no authority over Jane. As we have already seen in previous conversations
between them, St. John is incapable of withholding information from Jane. In a later
conversation, after attempting to critique and scold her for being light-hearted, he
demands: “Do you hear Jane?” Her indifferent response is “Yes: just as if you were
speaking Greek” (452). In this scene, she rejects St. John for rejecting pleasure and lightheartedness on her part, and it is evident that his efforts to control her through language
are futile. She responds to his attempt by claiming that he may as well be speaking a
foreign language, because his criticism is meaningless and insignificant to her.
Aside from St. John’s inability to control Jane through sight, sound and scolding,
he is equally incapable of controlling her through touch. We already know that Jane is not
physically attracted to his appearance, and she describes her first physical contact with
him as something less than enthralling:
There are no such things as marble kisses or ice kisses, or I should say my
cousin’s Ecclesiastical salute belonged to one of these classes[…]It was not
striking: I am sure I did not blush. (460)
42
This passage clearly illustrates that St. John’s touch does nothing for Jane internally. She
does “not blush” and the kiss is devoid of any emotional content or sense of pleasure
from either party. He is nothing like Rochester, whose voice “thrilled along [Jane’s]
every nerve,” and St. John invokes no passion or pleasure from Jane’s heart (348). Jane
tells the reader that “vivacity was distasteful to him” and she “could not laugh freely
when he was by” (459). St. John’s lack of emotions combined with his distaste towards
experience or seeing pleasure in others renders him unacceptable in Jane’s mind.
Ultimately, Jane does not marry St. John, but responds instead to the supernatural
summons, and critics claim that this summon from Rochester is ultimately what saves
her. Menon claims that “Jane cannot escape from this relationship through her own
rational efforts, without the help of the mysterious voice” (103). Similarly, Masse asserts:
We find Jane unable to understand the depth or strength of his [St John’s] hold on
her and she escapes him only by what she experiences as the workings of a
psychic power. (1055)
As these examples demonstrate, it is common among critics to make the argument that
Jane is saved from the “moral sadist” only through Rochester. According to this line of
argument, it is Rochester who channels Jane’s “psychic abilities” to deliver her from St.
John’s tyrannical drive to find “a wife; the sole helpmeet [he] can influence efficiently in
life, and retain absolute till death” (469). St. John is undeniably forceful and strong
willed. Even as Jane pleads for compassion from his continual entreaties for marriage
claiming, “Oh St. John[…] have some mercy,” he denies her request. He responds to her
pleas by stating, “you are formed for labor, not for love,” and “you shall be mine” (465).
It is undeniable that he is a sadistic character, and critics are not unreasonable in making
these assertions. However, the critics who make this claim have failed to examine the
43
passage leading up to the “mysterious summon[s]” and the evidence it provides for the
counter-claim that Jane never actually capitulates to St. John. She claims she would
marry him if she “were but convinced that it is God’s will,” but never actually states she
will marry him (484). Menon asserts that St. John assumes Jane’s statement means she
has capitulated to his will, but, in actuality, Jane is not capitulating and does not agree to
marriage. Therefore, readers and critics cannot assume that Jane has given in to the
sadist. She never consents to St, John’s will, but only defers his entreaties for a while
with her ambiguous answer.
While Jane does not consent to St. John’s efforts to control her senses, she does
capitulate to Rochester’s efforts. During the scene following her final conversation with
St. John, in which Jane hears the mysterious summon from Rochester, we see that Jane
actually loses all control of her senses, and does not in fact gain strength or power from
the summon as critics suggest. She feels her heart pulsating at the sound of his voice and
is filled with “an inexpressible feeling that thrilled” (485). This is not a moment in which
Jane regains her “rational senses” (Menon 103). It is a moment in which she loses control
of her senses to the sound of Rochester’s voice:
My heart beat fast and thick: I heard it throb. Suddenly it stood still to an
inexpressible feeling that thrilled it through, and passed at once to my head and
extremities. The feeling was not like an electric shock, but it was quite sharp, as
strange, as startling: it acted on my senses as if their utmost activity hitherto had
been but torpor, from which they were now summoned and forced to wake. They
rose expectant: eye and ear waited while flesh quivered on my bones. (485)
Critics such as Menon and Hanley claim that the moment Jane hears the summon from
Rochester is when she regains her rationality and her senses. Menon claims that Jane is
“more in control of Rochester than St. John” (103). Kucich agrees and claims that “over
44
and over we learn of Jane’s power with Rochester […] this is what she misses in St. John,
who would control her completely” (932).
There are strong arguments to be made against these critics because the latter
passage clearly illustrates that Rochester is controlling Jane’s senses in a way that St.
John never could. It is apparent that Jane’s senses have been dormant and without
temptation until now because St. John had no appeal to or affect on Jane’s senses, and
therefore posed no real threat to her integrity. In this scene, we see that Jane is losing all
control of her senses as they are reawakened by Rochester’s voice. It is also significant
that Jane specifically mentions the physical stimulation of her heart, eyes and ears, three
things St. John could never penetrate: Rochester, however, who is not even physically
present, obviously has control over each of these body parts because at his summons,
they “rose unexpectant” from within Jane when she heard his voice. She explains how
her body reacted, claiming the feeling “thrilled” through her and claims that the feeling
was “inexpressible,” illustrating her loss of power through language, her primary defense
with St. John, to Rochester. With St. John, she “did not blush” and she found nothing
“striking” in his kiss (453). His “marble breast” and stony features have no effect on her.
Her body reacts involuntarily to Rochester’s summons, unlike St. John, whose entreaties
she resists. Rochester need only summon her in order for her to immediately drop
everything to go find him.
After a close examination of the text, it is evident that St. John poses no threat to
Jane’s integrity as numerous critics suggest. His callous nature and denial of human
emotions such as love, compassion and desire render him incompatible with and
undesirable to Jane’s character. By contrasting Jane with St. John’s character, Brontë
45
illustrates that Jane is not a masochist in search of pain for pain’s sake, because
ultimately she rejects this lifestyle. She does, however, embrace a life in which pain is
pursued for pleasure’s sake, as it is in her relationship with Rochester. Ultimately, it is
not St. John but Rochester who poses the greatest threat to Jane’s integrity because he is
passionate and prone to emotion.
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Conclusion: Pain as Pleasure
“Oh! The sweetness of pain!”—Keats, Ode on melancholy
Throughout Jane Eyre, the tension created by Jane’s internal and external struggles plays
a crucial role in the development of her desires. As Jane struggles to maintain both her
integrity and her physical desires for Rochester, it becomes apparent that maintaining
integrity in this text is directly linked with maintaining physical desire. Integrity requires
distance, despite Jane’s longing for proximity, because distance promotes physical desire.
The tension between these two struggles causes pain, but also leads to pleasure.
Although it may seem that Jane’s struggle is simply about pain and suffering, a
closer examination of some of the most tension-filled scenes in the novel illustrates that
the novel is about the pleasurable state of pain. One of the most prominent scenes
exemplifying the painful state of pleasure in the text occurs when Jane refuses to remain
with Rochester after learning of his marriage to Bertha. Although this scene was
discussed in chapter two in order to demonstrate the tension between Jane and Rochester,
a further examination of the passage reveals how this state of painful tension
simultaneously functions as a source of sexual pleasure for both characters:
His voice was hoarse; his look that of a wild man who is just about to burst an
insufferable bond and plunge headlong into wild license… [b]ut I was not afraid:
not in the least. I felt an inward power; a sense of influence which supported me.
The crisis was perilous; but not without its charm. (347)
In this scene, Rochester is experiencing something comparable to a sexual climax, as
Jane describes him as having the look of a “wild man who is just about to burst” after
threatening to “try violence” on Jane in an effort to make her stay (347). Although
Rochester is consumed with pain at Jane’s decision to leave, his pain is united with desire
47
in this scene. This is evident in the contradictory language used to depict his appearance.
His voice is “hoarse,” and he is burdened with an “insufferable bond,” while conversely,
the descriptions of bursting and plunging suggest a state of sexual pleasure. The passage
exemplifies how pain and pleasure function as one entity in the text.
Jane experiences similar reactions to the one she describes in Rochester in the
latter scene. After informing readers of Rochester’s sexually charged actions, she asserts
that although the “crisis was perilous” it was “not without its charm.” Her description of
the “crisis” illustrates how Jane’s recognition of the hopelessness of her relationship with
Rochester will be painful, but that pain is accompanied with a certain kind of pleasure
and “charm.” Jane then goes on to describe her emotions as being “such as the Indian,
perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid12 in his canoe” (347). This description, much
like her description of Rochester, is also indicative of a sexually climactic moment in the
text in which Jane recognizes the perilous nature of her situation results in a form of
sexual satisfaction. The description of the Indian floating down a river in his canoe13
waiting for the moment of climax when he is to fall over the rapid, clearly parallels
Jane’s feelings. The intensity of her struggle has been building up to this moment, slowly
gaining momentum, until the point of climax arises and she slips over the rapid much like
Rochester plunging “headlong into wild license.” Both characters reach a point of no
return and a heightened state of pleasure because of the tension in their relationship, and
both are able to appease their desires in an unconventional manner.
12
According to the Oxford English dictionary, a rapid is a steep descent causing a swift current, similar to
a waterfall.
13
This scene is also indicative of a gender role reversal and laden phallic imagery, as Jane compares her
physical emotions to those of a male Indian in a rather phallic Canoe. For a more in-depth account of the
gender role reversal in Jane Eyre, see Gilbert and Gubar’s The Madwoman in the Attic.
48
The characters appease, but never gratify their desires, because “[d]esire is
committed to permanent revolution, to an enduring disappointment as a way of
guaranteeing its survival” (Goodheart 3). Goodheart makes the assertion that
disappointment is essential to the preservation of desire. In this sense, the pain of
disappointment results in the pleasure of continued desire. The pain and tension Jane and
Rochester endure in their relationship is never inseparable from pleasure because their
actions result in a painful, but enjoyable, sort of tension by heightening their desires. Leo
Bersani comments on the idea of appeasing without ever fully satisfying desires, claiming
that although desire constitutes “an absence or a lack…[i]t is accompanied by activities
designed to satisfy desire” (235). In other words, the painful act of preventing the
fulfillment of desires results in the absence of pleasure, but this absence of pleasure is in
itself a sort of satisfaction because “absence initiates desire” (235-236). It is evident that
for Jane and Rochester, the prevention of desire is agonizing, but also gratifying, and
these moments of seeming pain are simultaneously associated with a sexual climax,
illustrating how pain and pleasure function as a single entity. It is important to note,
however, that although these moments are associated with a sexual climax, the climax is
never quite reached. Rochester is “just about to burst,” but never reaches that bursting
point, while Jane, described as an Indian, is in the process of slipping over the rapid in a
canoe, never completely descending. These descriptions illustrate that although pleasure
is involved during these passages, there is never complete fulfillment for these characters.
In this text, passion is vital, but must also be kept in check. While Brontë utilizes
the character of St. John to illustrate the negative effects of denying desire, she also
utilizes Rochester to demonstrate what happens when desire consumes an individual. Just
49
as St. John is punished to death for being a complete masochist in his religion and
denying his physical desires (as well as trying to make Jane a masochist), Rochester is
condemned to burn in passion, to the point that it is literally burned out of him in the
Thornfield fire caused by his insane wife, Bertha.14 The novel alludes to Rochester’s
physical mutilation in an often-quoted scene that takes place shortly after his engagement
to Jane. In the scene, Jane addresses a chestnut tree that has been split and burned out by
a lightning strike:
‘You did right to hold fast to each other,’ I said: as if the monster splinters were
living things, and could hear me. ‘I think, scathed as you look, and charred and
scorched, there must be a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of adhesion at
the faithful, honest roots: you will never have green leaves more-never more see
birds making nests and singing idylls in your boughs; the time of love and
pleasure is over with you; but you are not desolate: each of you has a comrade to
sympathize with in his decay.’ (317)
Brontë explicitly connects this tree with Rochester’s condition by having him assert to
Jane at the end of the book that he is “no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut tree
in the Thornfield orchard” (514). By this point in the novel, Rochester is now “scathed,”
“charred” and scorched” much like the tree he compares himself to. He literally has the
passion burned out of him, and as Paul Pickrel asserts, “[t]he Mr. Rochester that we see
after the fire is not a very arresting figure” because he has had the “swagger burned out of
his speech” (172). Once the virulent picture of masculinity and intense passion, Rochester
is now a “sightless block” with “rayless eyes” and a “soul athirst” who has been severely
punished for his unchecked passion (Jane Eyre 502, 504). The result of Rochester’s
unchecked passion is the destruction of desire, and his physical sense. He is blind,
14
Gilbert and Gubar also assert that Bertha is a representation of Jane’s passionate side, and exemplifies
what would become of Jane if she succumbed to her desires.
50
missing a hand, and lacks the potency of his former self because he was a slave to
passion.
It is apparent that the scorched chestnut tree is alluding not only to Rochester’s
physical deformities, but to the dull and unsatisfying state of Jane and Rochester’s
relationship at the end of the novel as well. Pickrel asserts that “Jane is a much less vivid
figure at the end” and that “[n]othing in the novel survives the transition” from the fire to
the scene in which Jane and Rochester reunite, and that “the fire consumes a lot more
than Thornfield” (172). Many critics assert that the end is unsatisfying for a variety of
reasons,15 and, in my reading of the text, it is precisely the satisfaction of Jane and
Rochester that is so unsatisfying. The struggle and tension that has existed between them
since the beginning of the novel suddenly dissipates when Jane and Rochester reunite.
Jane becomes “his right hand” and “bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh” (521, 522). As a
woman who has struggled to assert her independence, maintain her integrity, and keep
herself at a reasonable distance from Rochester for the course of five hundred pages, Jane
suddenly goes from asserting the need to maintain her distance to literally becoming a
part of Rochester. The struggle ends in the last few unsatisfying chapters of the novel in
which the birth of Jane and Rochester’s marriage signifies the end of tension between the
two characters, and ultimately the death of Jane’s desire.
I have argued that throughout the text, Jane maintains her integrity by maintaining
her distance from Rochester. Many critics disagree with me on this point, asserting that
Jane’s integrity is linked instead to her religious fervency. Knies asserts that the
“returning awareness of God ultimately gives her the strength she needs to resist
15
In addition to Pickrel, G. Armour Craig finds the ending problematic because of Rochester’s symbolic
castration while Martin S. Day asserts that the male role has been reduced to that of a child.
51
Rochester” (132). Similarly, Craik claims the novel is about “the growth of moral,” and
her need to retain her religious values (71). Although these critics bring up valid
arguments, using morality and religion to explain Jane’s need to maintain her integrity is
too simple an answer to a complex question. In fact, what Bronte is describing is much
more complicated than mere religious integrity. Jane’s integrity is about pleasure, and not
morality. She maintains her integrity throughout the text by maintaining her distance
from Rochester. Although her strategy for maintaining integrity through distance results
in pain, it is crucial to note that this strategy is not a form of repression, but rather a way
to preserve her desires rather than thwart them. It is only by distancing herself from
Rochester that she can maintain her desire.
The concept of denying gratification to preserve desire in literature is a prominent
issue and has been explored by other writers. Keats in particular discusses the importance
of defending desire from gratification. In his poem, Ode on Melancholy, he illustrates
how distance and the containment of desire are necessary to the survival of those desires:
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous
Tongue
Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine:
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her trophies hung (26-30)
These lines help provide a rationale for Jane’s need to keep her physical desire contained,
and illustrate how this need can be motivated by the goal not of thwarting, but rather of
nurturing them. When reading these lines in the context of Jane Eyre, Rochester is
revealed as a stand-in for the “strenuous tongue” that seeks to “burst Joy’s grape.” Jane’s
desires in this scenario are the grape that the strenuous tongue seeks to rupture. When
looking at the text from this perspective, Jane’s need to distance herself from Rochester
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for the sake of her integrity is clearly an act of preserving her physical desires. It is only
by distancing herself from him that she can prevent him from bursting and gratifying
those desires. If she allows Rochester to “burst Joy’s grape,” then her physical desires
will dissipate because gratification ends desire.
In his book Love in the Western World, Denis deRougemont asserts:
The passion […] is compelled by its very nature to reject satisfaction. The more
intense, the more it recoils from being assuaged. This passion therefore, is not a
hunger, but a kind of drug which produces intoxication. (141-142)
DeRougemont’s quote is referring to perceptions of passion in literature, and the idea that
passion and desire thrives on the absence of gratification for their existence. In this
passage, deRougemont explains that as passion intensifies, it simultaneously increases the
need to defer gratification. He also denotes that passion is not a “hunger,” seeking
satisfaction, but rather in a state of intoxication that seeks to continually heighten desire.
This is precisely what Jane seeks to do in her relationship with Rochester. She does not
seek gratification, but rather the heightening of her desires through continual deference of
pleasure. If she were to allow Rochester to “burst Joy’s grape,” then her desire would
dissipate, because the “supreme exultation” of desire “is destroyed in being fulfilled”
(deRougemont 53). Bersani also comments on the idea of denying desire in order to
maintain it:
But to deny desire is not to eliminate it; in fact, such denials multiply the
appearances of each desire in the self’s history. In denying a desire, we condemn
ourselves to finding it everywhere. (6)
Bersani’s assertions help us see that although it appears that Jane is “denying” her
desires, this “denial” ultimately heightens her desires. Her need for distance from
Rochester may seem to be a means of deferring her desires; it is in fact a means of
53
preserving those desires by preventing them from being fulfilled, something that would
inevitably happen if she were to remain close to Rochester.
Desire is clearly a prominent issue in this text, and one of the most intriguing
aspects of desire is the fact that it thrives on the tension of opposition. Jane’s conflicting
needs for distance and proximity as well as the fact that pain results in pleasure are the
two primary examples of how tension arises from opposition in this novel. We see that
distance results in pain while proximity results in pleasure. In order to maintain desire,
however, the need for distance and the desire for proximity must remain intense and at
odds with one another.
The fact that pleasure can result from pain is not a new concept in literature, and
as Eugene Goodheart asserts, “[s]uffering and joy, sorrow and happiness become
indistinguishable in the career of desire” (3). Goodheart’s assertion suggests that although
suffering and joy are opposite emotions, they function as one unit in the context of desire,
and become indistinguishable from one another. This is true for Jane because, through
her opposing needs for distance and proximity, she succeeds in heightening her desires.
Pain and pleasure, like suffering and joy, become indistinguishable from one another
because they function together, ironically by working in opposition to one another in
order to heighten the tension of that opposition, and increase Jane’s desires as a result. In
concurrence with Goodheart, deRougemont asserts that desire and passion are emotions
that will “enrich” life “with enjoyment ever more violent and gratifying” (282). This idea
is clearly pertinent to Jane Eyre, for as we have seen, Jane’s desires and the tension of
opposition that creates those desires often manifest in a violent sexual manner within
Jane as well as in her relationship with Rochester. Jane’s desire is one that “nothing can
54
satisfy, that even rejects and flees the temptation to obtain its fulfillment” (deRougemont
62). Her desire thrives on the tension of opposition because it is ultimately the continual
state of opposition arising from her conflicting needs that nurtures and cultivates her
desires. The novel is not about a desire in search of pleasure and satisfaction, but rather it
is about the continual quest of heightening one’s passion and preserving the flame of
desire from burning out.
55
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