“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.”
I quoted this in the opening chapter of Gatekeeper III: The Keeping in Anna Merritt’s list of “Great First Lines”. It is, indeed, a scorcher, for it introduces all sorts of questions the reader must go on to answer. Why couldn’t you take a walk? Do you usually take a walk? What did you do instead?
If you’ve read Jane Eyre, you know these questions prove themselves well worth investigating. In fact, they lead to more questions – and, eventually, the reader’s search for answers follows Jane to a dark, brooding mansion with a dark, brooding master harboring a dark, brooding secret.
Be still, my romantic nerdy heart.
Thus, this week’s “Thunderclap” entry brings us to Jane Eyre, a figure no less real and dear to me than the writer-Jane we visited last week. I don’t remember how old I was when I finished my first readthru of Jane Eyre, but I remember where I was: in the den/lounge area of the house where I grew up, curled up in the recliner closest to the stereo. ’Twas one of my favorite reading spots. And, though I’m not sure of my age at the time, I do remember vividly some of the thoughts I had when I read the final lines – even more arresting than the opening line – and sat for a while in the chair, pondering.
The main feeling I remember is surprise.
I knew Jane Eyre was considered a literary classic and the grandmama of modern romance novels; therefore, I was astonished to find it, primarily, a book about faith – Jane’s faith in particular. We spend the majority of the novel watching Jane make decisions – incredibly difficult decisions – out of devotion to God.
Of course, there is romance (utterly swoon-worthy romance) and of course, Jane isn’t perfect, but her spiritual steadfastness and passion are blazing on every page. Even multiple readthrus later, she never fails to astound, challenge, and inspire me.
Being a person of faith myself, I took – and continue to take – two deep draughts of encouragement from this revelation:
~ In Jane Eyre, I found a literary heroine I could truly admire and seek to emulate. Not only is she strong and smart and talented and bold, but she is all of those things while operating under the same set of guiding principles by which I aim to live. I’m going through life using the same map as flippin’ JANE EYRE. As Gandalf would say, that IS an encouraging thought.
~ Jane Eyre proves that faith and literature are not mutually exclusive, nor are they enemies. That was where the surprise came from: I couldn’t believe that such a blatantly spiritual book was considered a classic! I remember thinking: “Is that even ALLOWED? Do They – that mysterious ‘They’ who decide these things – KNOW that this is a book about faith?”
I am not a fan of “Christian fiction”, as a reader or as a writer. I seek to write stories that ALL people can read and enjoy and find hope in. My faith is in every word, of course, because it is who I am; but, as I described in one of my posts about how I became a writer, my goal is to follow in the footsteps Tolkien, Lewis, Dorothy Sayers, and Madeleine L’Engle:
Rather than blazing down on the tale as a glaring spotlight, the faith of these writers seemed to be an exquisite stained glass window through which the stories shone, illuminating and informing every word and conveying truth and beauty far more wondrously and winsomely than I had ever been able to.
Jane Eyre is another example of a novel written from a spiritual perspective that still manages to be universal in its reach.
Thank you, Charlotte Bronte, for renewing my hope – the hope of a writer and a woman trying, like dear Jane, to find her place in the world; and, like Jane, seeking to be guided by faith.
Now, just for funsies, two songs from Jane Eyre: The Musical!
I have not found Jane’s faith portrayed in any film as powerfully as it comes through in the book, but the musical is different. Whenever Jane is at a turning point throughout the show, she comes back to this refrain: “What can I do now, my precious Lord?”
Everything that follows – all of her thoughts and questions and wrestlings – is part of this prayer.
(Mr. Rochester sings too . . . not sure who he’s praying to at this particular point in the tale, but you get the idea.)
In searching for the above, I found this fantastic performance at the Tony Awards. Again, note that Jane’s side is all prayer. Every soliloquy in the show, as in the book, is couched in prayer. I love it. (Plus, that James Barbour has a VOICE. My giddy aunt, that was good casting.)
How many ways ca I say I love this!! ❤❤❤❤
You do have a way with words, Ruth! Love you.
Yes!! I, too, was surprised to read the closing lines of Jane Eyre many years ago. Out of such darkness came life and hope. I love it!!!