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Moderate: Racism, Antisemitism
Okay, so yes—Jane is a fiery little thing and I respect her spine of steel, but can we talk about how utterly humorless she is? It’s all brooding and morals and zero fun. Even her flirtation with Rochester feels like two philosophy students trying to out-suffer each other. Speaking of Rochester—what a gaslighting, manipulative sadboi. "Oh, I can’t legally marry you because of my other wife in the attic, but let’s just run away together anyway. For love!" Sir, that’s not romantic—that’s a felony. And let’s not pretend the side characters don’t blur together into a sea of Victorian types: the angelic martyr (Helen), the evil stepmom (Mrs. Reed), the wet blanket clergyman (St. John), and so on. Distinct, sure, but nuanced? Not really. They exist to orbit Jane’s Great Moral Journey™, not to be people in their own right.
The Gothic aesthetic works overtime to keep this story interesting—honestly, if the vibes weren’t so impeccable, this book would feel like a sermon with candlelight. But sometimes it leans a little too hard into gloom porn. Do we really need the red-room trauma and the typhus plague and the literal burning mansion? Brontë is out here trying to kill Jane with symbolism. Subtlety? Never met her. Still, the settings do carry emotional weight—Thornfield is deliciously eerie, and Lowood is practically Dickensian—but once we hit Moor House, the story loses its teeth. Suddenly we’re in pastoral purgatory being courted by a sexy colonizer? No thanks.
I’ll say it: this book could’ve used a ruthless editor. Brontë has a habit of writing like she's being paid by the comma. For every brilliant line, there’s a paragraph that reads like a thesaurus exploded. I found myself skimming Jane’s internal monologues more than I care to admit—not because I didn’t care, but because I got it the first three times, Jane. Also, I refuse to excuse the pacing crimes committed in the final act. Everything grinds to a halt while Jane goes full martyr at Moor House, and we get 200 pages of emotional constipation before she finally does what we all knew she was going to do and goes back to Rochester. Speaking of whom—
This plot had so much potential. Creepy estate, mystery wife, class/gender dynamics, proto-feminist heroine. And yet, it spends too much time moralizing and not enough actually developing its romantic core. The twists are either predictable or ludicrous—Jane just happens to stumble upon her long-lost cousins in the middle of nowhere? And inherits a fortune? Come on. It’s wish-fulfillment dressed in sackcloth and ashes. There’s also the uncomfortable fact that the book sets fire to the literal “madwoman in the attic” trope but doesn’t do a damn thing to interrogate it. Bertha exists to suffer and then conveniently die so Jane and Rochester can be legally and morally in the clear. Romantic, if you ignore the colonialist, ableist baggage.
It starts strong—childhood trauma, school from hell, mysterious rich man with weird vibes—but the second half starts to drag like a wet cloak. The whole “St. John wants to marry me for missionary clout” subplot is the literary equivalent of hitting a wall and then just lying there for 100 pages. Even the Big Gothic Reveal™—Bertha in the attic—is over too quickly to really satisfy. It’s juicy in theory, but Brontë brushes past it like she’s embarrassed by her own plot twist. Honestly, if I wasn’t so emotionally invested in Jane not getting screwed over, I might’ve given up halfway through.
Let’s not pretend this is a healthy romance. Rochester lies, manipulates, and emotionally torments Jane for 300 pages, and we’re supposed to forgive him because he got barbequed and blinded in a tragic act of divine punishment? Yikes. Jane returning to him isn’t an act of empowered choice—it’s a reward for his suffering. Meanwhile, St. John’s cold proposal is framed as just another trial for Jane’s resolve, even though it reeks of spiritual manipulation. And don’t even get me started on Bertha—whose treatment is unforgivable. The world-building also creaks under scrutiny. How did Jane suddenly become rich, and why are we just fine with it? Why is everyone either a saint or a villain?
I wanted to love this. I really did. And I enjoyed parts—the orphan angst, the gloomy mansion, Jane dunking on Rochester with moral superiority. But it’s too long, too self-serious, and too in love with its own moral posturing. I came for the Gothic scandal and stayed out of sheer stubbornness. Would I recommend it? Only with a disclaimer: expect melodrama, misogyny, and a man who really shouldn’t have been a romantic lead.
Jane Eyre is like a really intense friend who always has great stories, but never lets you get a word in and will absolutely guilt-trip you for eating dessert. Iconic, yes. Enjoyable? Sometimes. Exhausting? Also yes.
Graphic: Child abuse, Confinement, Emotional abuse
Moderate: Ableism, Domestic abuse, Infidelity, Misogyny, Physical abuse, Sexism, Suicidal thoughts, Toxic relationship, Grief, Fire/Fire injury, Gaslighting, Alcohol, Classism
Minor: Animal cruelty, Bullying, Cursing, Death, Mental illness, Racism, Self harm, Violence, Death of parent, Murder, Abandonment
Graphic: Child abuse, Confinement, Death, Mental illness, Violence, Forced institutionalization, Death of parent, Classism
Moderate: Ableism, Racism, Fire/Fire injury, Gaslighting
Minor: Antisemitism
Moderate: Ableism, Mental illness
Minor: Racism
Moderate: Bullying, Child abuse, Child death, Confinement, Death, Mental illness, Misogyny, Racism, Fire/Fire injury, Injury/Injury detail, Classism
Moderate: Racial slurs, Racism, Sexual violence
Graphic: Ableism, Death, Emotional abuse, Misogyny, Racism, Suicide, Fire/Fire injury, Injury/Injury detail
Graphic: Mental illness, Misogyny, Racism, Xenophobia, Cultural appropriation, Classism
Moderate: Ableism, Child abuse, Confinement, Religious bigotry, Gaslighting
Minor: Body shaming, Child death, Suicide, Antisemitism, Death of parent, Fire/Fire injury, Colonisation
Minor: Racial slurs, Racism, Classism
That said, I liked Charlotte's Jane Eyre better than Anne's Agnes Grey. Jane is an endearing character, one who is far more flexible in her morality and ambiguous in her actions (though not too much so, I assume, to make her unsympathetic to contemporary readers, which is kind of a shame to me as a modern reader, but I digress). Mr. Rochester is a fucking piece of work, and I do hate him, but I totally understand why Jane wants to fuck him. I'm weirdly charmed by St. John Rivers as well, but he's also an asshole, and why are all these men trying to manipulate my girl Jane? On a somewhat related note, it's so funny that Jane's ugly appearance comes up CONSTANTLY. And that Jane's Aunt Mrs. Reed has beef with her. Like, she's ten.
I'm fascinated by Bertha Mason and the idea of a dude having a crazy wife he keeps in the attic, so I will be reading Wide Sargasso Sea. I also think Jane's life would've been better if she'd decided to be a lesbian spinster with the Rivers sisters.
Graphic: Ableism, Body shaming, Confinement, Death, Infidelity, Mental illness, Misogyny, Toxic relationship, Grief, Fire/Fire injury, Abandonment, Classism
Moderate: Child abuse, Child death, Racism, Xenophobia, Medical content, Religious bigotry, Death of parent, Gaslighting
Minor: Racial slurs, Suicide, Alcohol, Colonisation