By Iman Waseem
Illustrated by Jessica Chan
While reading this novel, a consistent thought festered in my mind: “Is this book incredibly ahead of its time, or have human beings, on a very innate level, been the same all these years?”
As I perused the last page, I realised the answer lay somewhere in the middle.
Jane Eyre (1847) by Charlotte Brontë, is arguably one of the most prominent books in literary history. Written after her first book, The Professor, was rejected for its dullness and lack of drama, Jane Eyre carries with it, in every chapter, Brontë’s determination to prove herself to the publishers who rejected her. Thus, the novel embraces a genuine commitment to capturing the passionate, tempestuous, and beautiful human experience of feeling life.
The novel follows the story of Jane Eyre, a lonely and resented orphaned girl living in her aunt Mrs Reed’s house, who was bestowed the responsibility of Jane’s primary care by her uncle. Jane goes on to join Lowood School, a reprimanding, repressive, and religious school. Eventually, at the age of 19, she progresses to her stay at Thornfield Hall, a house where she becomes a governess—a role that raises her status and thus places her in a position of respect. At Thornfield Hall, Jane forms an unconventional relationship with the wealthy, older, and brooding Mr Rochester. The novel picks up pace here and revolves around the turbulent relationship between the two, slowly unravelling dark secrets, deep desire, and ardent love.
The plot of Jane Eyre was unconventional for its time, to say the least, so much so that the novel was published under the male pseudonym Currer Bell, as publishers were concerned about prejudiced responses due to Brontë being a woman.
However, there have been many books that resisted the norms of their societies and were revolutionary, so why, then, does Jane Eyre stand out?
Anyone who has read Jane Eyre understands how heart-warming it felt whenever Jane, amidst all her worry and serenity, addressed us as if we were her friends hearing her out at a sleepover with sentences like, “Reader, I married him.” Jane Eyre, although enriched by complicated themes like feminism, religion, social class, and gender relations, primarily, for me, reads as a deeply intelligent and relatable commentary on the psychology of humans.
Jane, our lovely and memorable protagonist, has been stratified into rigid categories since she was a child. She was the provocative and lying child for Mrs Reed, the bad influence at Lowood, and the repressed and formal governess at Thornfield. However, as Jane is also our narrator, we see a consistent rejection of these ascribed traits with her powerful and confident inner dialogue and outward behaviour, as well.
What makes this book so brilliant, then, is that while building Jane as a remarkably resilient, confident, and vocal character, it very realistically portrays her stormy inner world, dominated by a deeply feeling heart and a mind that constantly works overtime.
Jane has felt a wide range of emotions: rejection, deprivation, isolation, desire, love, cruel and unrelenting grief, separation, anger, ambition, and helplessness. This is common for many characters, and does not make her special per se. However, what does is the uncannily realistic, scattered, opposing, and nonsensical, but deeply emotionally resonating thoughts which she conveys while narrating these events.
There were many times when I had to physically shut my copy because it increasingly started to feel like a mirror.
How is it possible that the way Jane reflects upon her grief is the same as I do in 2025?
How is it that the anxious-ridden thoughts that plague her mind and that aggressively carve their way into her dreams also make their way into mine?
The emotional sensitivity with which the novel was written, to me, its unique and sadly overlooked beauty. Most books that take on the narration strategy fail to meet the criteria for which details a narrator would include in their summary of events.
Wouldn’t their mind be scattered?
Wouldn’t they go on and on about what they endured?
It’s incredible how Brontë managed to give off this impression within her writing without making it scattered or illogical.
Brontë thus proved that despite social stratifications and the complexity of emotions, humans will forever, on an innate emotional level, remain the same. The same things will always defeat us, and the same things will always save us. Much changed for Jane, but ultimately, she too desired one thing: love (bonus points for not just romantic love but also familial and platonic!).This is why, nearly two centuries later, Jane Eyre is not just read—it is felt.
