Category: Jane Eyre

By Rachel Fergus

Throughout Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre we see the titular character frequently interact with the natural world. Brontë makes it clear to the reader that nature will be important in the novel when she opens the story on a young Jane talking about her contempt for going on walks (9). As I read Jane Eyre I was struck by the vastly different tone that the protagonist uses when referring to outdoor and interior spaces. At her aunt’s house and then when she first arrives at Lowood the outdoor world is dull, undesirable and something to dread. Yet, while at Thornfield and Moor House, even when wandering homeless after fleeing from Mr. Rochester, Jane finds beauty and delight in her surroundings. When considering Jane’s attitude toward the natural world, it is important to consider why she is outside. Was it her decision, or was she forced out of doors? When with her aunt and during her first months of Lowood, Jane is taken outside when others determine that she should go out and is then brought in when their clocks say that she should. However, when typhus spreads through the school and Jane can roam free past the designated play area that she was once required to stay within, her tone changes as she begins to discover the joys of the natural world (92). For example, Jane recounts that those who were sick needed to stay inside while she “andthe rest who continued well, enjoyed fully the beauties of the scene and season; they let us ramble in the wood, like gipsies, from morning till night; we did what we liked, went where we liked” (92). The use of images like “rambling through the woods” and “wandering anywhere desired” gives the passage a tone of freedom. No barriers existed for Jane during this time of her life. 

Why does escaping the walls of Lowood ignite Jane’s love for the outdoors? I argue that it is because she is able to escape a world that is restrictive for women. Jennifer Fuller, the author of “Seeking Wild Eyre: Victorian Attitudes Towards Landscape and the Environment in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre,” writes about the difference between the gardens and enclosed outdoor spaces that Jane had been frequently confined to and the rest of the natural world:

Since the Victorians generally viewed the garden as a safe, enclosed, educational space for women, and often connected the garden with larger concerns about society and its   place in nature, then Brontë’s choice to depict Lowood as a cold, diseased garden when Jane arrives is a highly subversive act. Brontë calls into question any benefits Jane might receive at the charity school, but more importantly, argues that the “natural” space Victorian women inhabit is corrupted and unstable. (155)

By trespassing the boundaries stereotypically set for women, Jane is stepping outside of social conventions and discovers joy in the natural world. In placing Jane in a world that is beyond the space commonly allotted to women, Brontë creates a protofeminist character. This can be seen in a variety of outdoor scenes, specifically when the protagonist receives proposals for marriage and responds to them.  

After finding a joy from the natural world at Lowood, the view of a dreary world briefly returns in Jane’s narrative when she first arrives in Thornfield and does not know where or what to do. Instead of exploring her unfamiliar surroundings, she simply looks out the window at the foreign territory. In this moment of bleakness, Brontë makes what, I would argue, is a feminist assertion about the wants and needs of Jane and all women: 

It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. … Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer. (129-130)

Brontë emphatically argues that Jane, like all women, cannot just sit all day and knit or sew; they need to be outside and move. The idea that women want and need to do more than what society classifies as respectful pastimes for the “delicate sex” transcends patriarchal standards. This feminist idea is emphasized when Brontë begins to compare women to men: they have the same needs and wants, making them, in this way at least, equal. This passage gives context to when Jane is walking through the natural world around the house. She wields the same rights that men have to explore the world past Thornfield Hall and its manicured gardens. 

As the novel unfolds the tie between nature and Jane tightens. While every scene set outside is interesting, I think those that best show the connection between Jane’s protofeminism and nature come when Jane is proposed to for marriage. Jane receives three marriage proposals throughout the novel: one from Mr. Rochester, one from St. John Rivers, and then a second proposal from Mr. Rochester a year after the original proposal. The circumstances surrounding each proposal are very different. However, they are tied together by their location: the natural world.

The first proposal occurs in the orchard outside of Thornfield. Jane is walking through the garden after the sun has set when she smells a cigar and knows that it is Rochester (286). Not wanting to be seen, she steps into the orchard to try to hide herself. The attempt of concealment fails and that location became the sight of the first marriage proposal. Jane’s transcendence of female cultural norms is seen in her walk outside, alone, after dark. And, by hiding in the orchard, she steps from the assumed safe space of the garden into a sphere that is not designated for women. Jennifer Fuller writes, “In Jane Eyre the orchard functions as a masculine equivalent to the garden. Instead of the female/flower, the male/tree is bound by walls and cultivated only for pleasure or profit. Rochester is constantly associated with trees, especially with the horse-chestnut grown in the orchard.” Thus, by stepping into the orchard, Jane decides to move to a masculine space. As when Jane wanders through the wilderness, moving into the orchard shows her ability to step outside of the garden and spaces designated for women. By moving into a space usually reserved for men Jane is making herself equal with the other sex. So, when Rochester proposes marriage and Jane accepts, Jane accepts the proposal as Rochester’s equal. 

When Jane realizes that Rochester is married and wants to distance herself from him to uphold her moral beliefs, she turns to the same place that she did when she agreed to marry Rochester: the natural world (367). Brai Deo Singh argues that the utilization of nature as an escape path is not uncommon. He writes, “nature, representing the world of peace and solitude, is an important theme in Victorian literature, and the demand to return to nature is an expression of the desire to escape from the moral constrictions of the present. Escapism is an important motif in Victorian novels” (86). When Jane contemplates what to do as she lay in bed on the night that would have been the first of her honeymoon, the moon becomes a motherly figure: I lifted up my head to look: the roof resolved to clouds, high and dim; the gleam was such   as the moon imparts to vapours she is about to sever.  I watched her come—watched with the strangest anticipation; as though some word of doom were to be written on her disk.  She broke forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first penetrated the sable folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. It gazed and gazed on me.  It spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart—

 “My daughter, flee temptation.” (367)

Jane doesn’t simply listen to nature when it tells her to leave Thornfield Hall, she actively seeks its aid. While lying in bed contemplating what to do Jane lifts her head as though she thought there may be an answer out of her window. Then when she first sees a piece of the moon Jane watches as it emerges from the clouds and focuses on its appearance. With anticipation Jane awaits advice from mother nature and then immediately follows her command. 

The second marriage proposal Jane receives is from St. John Rivers. He proposes to Jane in a space outside of the house and garden; a wild space filled with rocks, a waterfall and hills (462). I find it interesting that like Rochester, St. John not only proposes outside but he proposes in a place that is unfamiliar to Jane. While the Moor House and the surrounding area were new to Jane, they were not unfamiliar. She had spent time in the space and had begun a routine. While Jane may have walked on the path that St. John followed, it could not be as well-known as the house or garden. Is it possible that St. John brought her there because he knew it was unfamiliar, and thus more uncomfortable for Jane, hoping that she would agree to marry him because she already felt uncomfortable and did not want to put herself in an even more uncomfortable position? Or maybe, he took her away from the house and garden where his sisters were residing to distance Jane from two women who would advocate for her to remain in England? I think that these are both plausible explanations for St. John’s choice. Whatever his reason for taking Jane out into wilderness, St. John failed to scare or shame Jane into submission; she held fast to her beliefs even in a space that was new and absent of those who would speak on her behalf. Jane’s resolution against marrying St. John is made even clearer when she offers to travel to India with him as a sister but not as his wife (467). Many scholars have worked to unpack the importance of missionary work and religion in the novel. For my argument, I see Jane’s continued declaration of being willing to move to India but not to marry her cousin as a clear message that it is not the change in scene or St. John’s ideals that prevents her from accepting his marriage proposal, it is simply that she does not want to marry him, so she says no again and again. 

Because Jane shows that she has the ability to say “no” to marriage proposals her decision to say “yes” to marrying Rochester when he asks a second time emphasizes that she marries him because she wants to do so, not because she was simply appeasing a man’s will. This also shows that Jane does not consent to marry Rochester solely to comply with the societal norm of marrying and starting a family. If that were her goal, she may have married St. John. Rather, Jane marries for love. Like Rochester’s first proposal and St. John’s attempt to convince Jane to marry him, the final marriage proposal in the novel is made outside in “the wet and wild wood [and] some cheerful fields” (507). Again, we find Jane in the countryside of England moving beyond the space traditionally allotted to women. The words “wet” and “wild” indicate that the landscape is very different from the comfortable and domesticated house and gardens that were the traditional spaces for women. It is in this wild landscape that Jane is put into a position of power over Rochester. Though Rochester and men are associated with trees and the rugged world, Rochester is not able to traverse this space alone because he is blind. Jane tells the reader that she led Rochester to where they sat when he proposed, emphasizing that Rochester had to follow — the position usually reserved for a woman — and that she willingly walked into a new space beyond the known. 

By creating a protofeminist character who moves beyond the space allotted to women, a protagonist who has the power to decide what her own future will look like, Brontë shows she was ahead of her time. 

Works Cited

Brontë, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. Penguin Classics, 2006.

Fuller, Jennifer D. “Seeking Wild Eyre: Victorian Attitudes Towards Landscape and the Environment in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre.” Ecozon@, vol. 4, no. 2, 2013, pp. 150–165.

Singh, Braj Deo. “Nature in Victorian Fiction: A Study of Five Major Novelists.” Order No. 10110663 Gauhati University (India), 1977. Ann Arbor: ProQuest. Web. 19 Mar. 2020.

By Michaela Brownell

There is a tendency to summarize Jane Eyre down to the romance between the titular character and Mr. Rochester. If there’s a bit more room people may discuss the red room or the madwoman in the attic. What is often overlooked are the chapters where Jane attends Lowood. When I read Jane Eyre for the first time, the Lowood chapters were some of my favorites. However, the rest of the world doesn’t seem to hold the same opinion: movie adaptions skim over these passages and academia stays clear of the subject. If addressed at all, it is only to condemn the conditions of the school. Perhaps some of this can be attributed to Charlotte Bronte’s own experience in schooling. Many people are convinced that Lowood is meant to represent the school Bronte herself attended as a child: Cowan Bridge. One former teacher at the school, fearing misrepresentation, even penned a letter to the editor, being “most anxious to vindicate an Institution, which has been… a blessing of inestimable value” (Littell’s Living Age, 652). Many seem to regard Jane’s time at Lowood as a period of suffering, but I argue quite the opposite. The Lowood chapters represent not a period of continued misery, rather they are a period of remarkable and positive change for Jane. Having Jane go through this period of change is revolutionary not only for the genre, but also for Jane as a character. The Lowood chapters bring a great deal of depth to Jane Eyre as both character and novel and their importance has long gone unnoticed.

Character development is not something commonly seen in the Gothic novel, and certainly not in its female characters. Female characters in the Gothic genre are unchanging, they do not learn or grow. Consider The Castle of Otranto’s Matilda and Isabella as well as The Monk’s Antonia. All three are perfect and pure. They do not grow as characters because how can perfection be improved upon? However, perfection can be rather limiting. Consider again these three characters, are they really anything beyond their virtue? If you take away their purity, is there anything much left to them? Furthermore, in being perfect they exist solely to be acted upon by others, they cannot act for themselves. They read, they sew, they pray, but they do not live for themselves. They live so that they can be married or killed.

Jane is not this perfect being. Jane makes mistakes, but she does so in order that she may learn from them and grow. She is not static, she is ever evolving. Because we are witness to this change, we as readers become more attached to her as a character. We want her to succeed because we have seen what she has already overcome. Lowood is the place where Jane experiences the most change and growth because she is placed in situations that are congruent to such a change happening. In situating Jane against the previously named characters, it becomes clear why change is so important. Having the ability to change means that she is in charge of her own actions. Jane is fully in control of her own being, she has flaws, she grows and develops, and because of this we are more connected to her than to traditional Gothic heroines. As she grows, so does our attachment to her as a character. 

The growth Jane sees because of her time at Lowood comes in three major areas. First, the character she developed because of her childhood trauma is corrected. Second, she learns important life lessons. Last, she is given the tools to become sensible and independent. While she certainly can’t be blamed for it, Jane arrives at Lowood with an overdeveloped sense of justice. She is quick to seek retribution against those that have wronged her. When confronting Mrs. Reed for calling her a liar, Jane describes, “that eye of hers, that voice, stirred every antipathy I had. Shaking from head to foot, thrilled with ungovernable excitement, I continued” (Bronte, 44). Jane furthers her quest for justice, saying to Mrs. Reed, “you think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or kindness; but I cannot live so: and you have no pity” (44). Mrs. Reed treats Jane with cruelty, showing her no love or kindness, always accusing her of wickedness. Having grown up under such conditions, it is no wonder why Jane became so defensive. However, she could not continue this behavior at Lowood or in life. When talking to Helen, Jane tells her that “when we are struck without a reason, we should strike back again very hard,” (68) a lesson that she learned as a result of her upbringing. Helen responds that “it is not violence that best overcomes hate– nor vengeance that most certainly heals injury” (69). Through these lessons with Helen, Jane is tempered. One cannot go through life constantly striking out against those who seek to wrong you, one must be cool-headed in the face of adversity.

Margaret Lenta writes that Jane “goes to Lowood more in need of loving care than of education, and is fortunate that in Miss Temple she finds both” (Lenta, 41). While deprived of the material comforts of Gateshead Hall, Jane is fortunate to receive the love that she always needed but was never given before. She finds friends, people who are willing to help her grow, and people who believe in her goodness. Living at Gateshead Jane remarks, “all said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be so” (19). Everyone assumed the worst of her, she had no one to support or believe her. She was considered guilty before a crime was even committed. While the Reeds were against her, at Lowood she learns that that is not the case of everyone. Consider the incident where Mr. Brocklehurst declares to the school that, per the word of Mrs. Reed, Jane is a liar. Jane is used to being a scapegoat, she is then surprised when she is given the chance to calmly defend herself by Miss Temple. Miss Temple tells her, “when a criminal is accused, he is always allowed to speak in his own defense. You have been charged with falsehood; defend yourself to me as well as you can” (84). Jane has never been given an impartial chance to defend herself. This scene shows her that the whole world does not view or treat her as the Reed household did. She no longer has to fight for her own justice. 

Of those that do mention Jane’s school days, they often focus on the skills she gains so she can seek employment as a governess. Having these skills means that she can work independently to support herself. As Jane remarks:

During those eight years my life was uniform, but not unhappy, because I was not inactive. I had the means of an excellent education placed within my reach; a fondness for some of my studies, and a desire to excel in all, together with a great delight in pleasing my teachers, especially such as I loved, urged me on. In time I rose to be the first girl of the first class; then I was invested with the office of teacher; which I discharged with zeal for two years. (100)

Jane has gained a high level of skill because of her education as well as a great desire to succeed. This combination of work ethic, skill, and determination has prepared her to fend for herself in the outside world.

She is no longer dependent on the Reeds who abhorred her so much. At Lowood, she is still connected to the Reeds, which is why, before pursuing her new career, “Mrs. Reed must be written to, as she was [Jane’s] natural guardian” (106). When the letter returns, Jane is told that “I might do as I pleased: she had long relinquished all interference in my affairs” (106). This letter formally severs Jane’s reliance on the Reeds. She is free to go her own way and live her own life. But she would not have been able to do this were it not for the education she received at Lowood, both in and out of the classroom.

Without the Lowood chapters we wouldn’t have a clear picture of Jane, we wouldn’t truly understand her. Adult Jane seems very different from the typical gothic heroine. She does not scream at shadows, faint, or fall into fits. She does not cry delicate tears after hearing a beautiful sermon. Her value does not come from her being fair and lovely. If we go into the novel with traditional gothic assumptions of what a heroine should act and be like, Jane might come off as a bit aloof. She does not seem to have strong feelings nor possess the typical feminine graces. However, as Jane says herself, “you think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or kindness; but I cannot live so” (44). The Lowood chapters show that Jane cares and feels deeply, she has just learned how to be sensible. In having these chapters, we are made aware of not only how Jane has suffered, but how she has overcome and grown from it. Without Lowood, Jane would always be the child who lashes out from hurt. She would not know love or friendship, and she would always be dependent on the Reeds. She has learned to fend for herself and because of it she won’t settle for less. She has been through Hell and emerged a better and stronger person. She knows she can face anything, and we admire her for it.

Works Cited

Brontë Charlotte. Jane Eyre. Penguin, 2006.

A, H. “”JANE EYRE” AND THE SCHOOL AT COWAN BRIDGE.” Littell’s Living Age (1844-1896), vol. 10, no. 590, Sep 15, 1855, pp. 652. ProQuest, https://login.ezproxy.stthomas.edu/login?url=https://search-proquest-com.ezproxy.stthomas.edu/docview/90316639?accountid=14756.

Lenta, Margaret. “Jane Fairfax and Jane Eyre: Educating Women.” ARIEL: A Review of International English Literature, vol. 12, no. 4, Oct. 1981, pp. 27–41.

By Mary McCartney

Enter any bookstore, and you are sure to find a wall of novels with typographic cover art. Typography and design play a key role in twenty-first century book marketing—to the point that some media outlets argue modern book design is becoming monotonous. What has prompted this focus on typography? Is it simply a marketing ploy? Franco Moretti has conducted extensive research on the evolution of novel titles. In the article “Style, Inc. Reflections on Seven Thousand Titles (British Novels, 1740-1850),” he argues that titles became increasingly similar to each other by the mid-nineteenth century. He further states, “The title is where the novel as language meets the novel as commodity, and their encounter can be extremely illuminating” (135). Indeed, by analyzing various editions of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, I suggest the same sentiment can be applied to cover art. Cover art is designed to attract readers, but it also functions as a visual representation of the novel.

There are countless publishers and editions of Jane Eyre—each edition with a unique cover. While I will not, and cannot, discuss the entirety of the cover art in a single blog post, I will examine a specific subset of this data. This post explores the evolution of Jane Eyre cover art from thirteen Penguin Books editions between 1966 and 2020. In the span of roughly 50 years, the cover art transforms from portraiture sourced from existing art (used to introduce the book’s themes and approximate Jane’s appearance) to bold typography.

Design decisions are complex; they are determined by marketing, industry trends, editorial prerogatives, as well as by the interests of readers. While many scholars have studied the ways in which cover art affects purchasing habits, this post instead explores the connection between cover art and the reception of the novel. My argument is twofold: First, I contend that the portraits representing Jane (seen in the first section) highlight her limited mobility and agency. These portraits are in various settings, but they all feature an immobile woman. My second argument traces the evolution from portraiture to typography. This shift, I suggest, parallels a change in the reception of the novel from the late twentieth to the early twenty-first century.

Representations of Jane

Out of the thirteen total covers in my data set, nine feature portraits meant to represent Jane. I would like to initially examine the first six editions of the novel, as they are more traditional portraits. From 1966 to 2006, Penguin exclusively features a portrait on the cover (Figure 1). Notably, Jane is not standing in one of these images, prompting the viewer to think about the opening line of the novel: “There was no possibility of taking a walk that day” (Brontë 9). When Jane is punished by Mrs. Reed for defending herself against John, she is told, “There, sit down, and think over your wickedness” (Brontë 15). At Lowood, Jane is directed to “sit in a quiet corner of the schoolroom” and sew (Brontë 63). Likewise, she “sits in the shade” (i.e., a shadowy area of the drawing-room) at Thornfield Hall while Rochester hosts Miss Ingram and his guests (Brontë 202). Thus, when she is sitting, Jane is punished, cast aside, or ignored. It is significant, then, that the cover art shows Jane sedentary. She is not going anywhere; she is enduring her circumstances.

Moreover, in these portraits, Jane is most often looking away from the viewer. In the 2003 edition, for example, Jane is looking at neither the book nor the child in her lap (Figure 2). Recall that Jane notices Helen Burns avoiding eye contact while Helen is punished at Lowood and assumes she is daydreaming. She notes, “Her eyes are fixed on the floor, but I am sure they do not see it—her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart” (62). I suggest that we can read Jane’s lack of eye contact in the 1985, 1994, 1996, 2003, and 2006 editions in a similar manner. Jane is looking elsewhere, implying that her mind is not focused on her current surroundings.

These portraits of Jane also place her in domestic settings. For instance, in the 1966 and 1994 editions, Jane is represented by a woman sewing—a task she was often assigned at Lowood and presumably at Thornfield Hall. The 2003 edition features representations of Jane, Adele, and Miss Ingram. Miss Ingram and Adele are both standing in this image, signaling their mobility and opportunities to advance in society. In contrast, Jane is sitting and tending to Adele, and she is looking away from her companions and the viewer. These portraits all generally focus on Jane’s isolation.

From Portraiture to Typography

A noticeable shift occurs in 2009 in the Penguin editions: the cover art evolves from portraiture to typography and illustration. There is admittedly a marketing factor at play (i.e., some of these covers exist within a series of classic texts and the 2011 edition promotes the movie adaptation that came out that same year). However, this change in cover art also reveals a shift in the way publishers and readers perceive Brontë’s story. For instance, since 2010, there have been three representations of Jane on the cover (Figure 3). No longer is Jane imagined as occupying domestic space. In the 2010 and 2016 editions, Jane is outside[1]. In this sense, modern marketers give Jane more mobility, as do many modern readers who see Jane as an early feminist.

In addition, these representations are decidedly more Gothic than the portraits examined in the first section of this post, indicating a shift from classifying Jane Eyre as a domestic or romance novel to a Gothic novel. The fog and the fact that viewers cannot see Jane’s face in the 2011 edition hint at the mysterious nature of the tale (Figure 4). Readers cannot see Jane clearly; there is more occurring than meets the eye. The 2010 and 2016 editions include Tim Burton-esque illustrations—an uncanny style that would surely be recognized by readers. In addition, the 2010 publication shows Jane in a subterranean space below Thornfield Hall, which is depicted as both home and castle. Fred Botting contends, “[In Gothic literature] the castle gradually gave way to the old house: as both building and family line, it became the site where fears and anxieties returned in the present” (3). Botting’s assertion is certainly displayed in the novel.Yet, visually, a castle elicits Gothic themes more than an old manor. Jane is in motion, as if hurrying away from Thornfield Hall. The lantern in her hand suggests that it is dark outside. Similarly, the 2016 edition has Jane sitting in the woods at night. These covers ask viewers to consider what is lurking in the shadows—a tactic often employed by modern media with the resurgence of Gothic films and television shows. These covers, then, make Jane Eyre resonant to modern sensibilities.

Aside from these three covers, modern cover art for Jane Eyre is typographic, revealing Jane’s move from a woman in a household to a household name (Figure 5). A text-only approach implies that the title or reputation of the novel is enough to draw reader interest. Discussing the length of novel titles, Moretti contends, “As the number of new novels kept increasing, each of them had inevitably a much smaller window of visibility on the market, and it became vital for a title to catch quickly and effectively the eye of the public” (139). Indeed, we see a shift from images back to text. The title of the novel once more carries the weight.

The background art of these text-only editions (i.e., the 2009, 2012, 2015, and 2020 publications) is worth noting. Three of these four editions include floral backgrounds. While this may be partially related to the style of Penguin’s graphic designers, it is notable that the pattern privileges the natural world over the domestic sphere—once again indicating that modern publishers give Jane agency. Furthermore, the 2015 edition includes a quote underneath the title: “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.” The publishers decided that this quote represents the novel—a stark contrast to the cover featuring a representation of Jane with Adele and Miss Ingram.

To close, I would like to examine the 2012 edition of the novel (Figure 6). This edition is part of the Penguin Drop Caps series—a series consisting of 26 novels, each representing a different letter of the alphabet. The description of this edition on Penguin’s website states, “‘B’ is for Brontë.” However, “B” also appears to stand for Bertha, especially considering it is paired with an illustration of flames. Bertha famously sets Rochester’s bed on fire in a scene where “tongues of flame darted round the bed” (Brontë 174). Bertha later burns Thornfield Hall to the ground. Considering early editions of the novel focus on domesticity, this choice of cover art is radical. The flames indicate that Brontë’s tale is more than Jane’s story. Modern readers and publishers are hearing marginalized voices, such as that of Bertha, who has been locked away by her husband.

Conclusion

Moretti asks, “How can a couple of words stand in for hundreds of pages? What does it mean, that they should do so?” (145). This post has explored a similar question: How can one image (or lack thereof) represent an entire novel? Moretti details the popularity of female first names as titles in eighteenth-century novels, thus suggesting the protagonist is in want of a surname. He proposes that a last name in a title, such as Jane Eyre, suggests “the marriage plot [was] becoming embedded within genres like the bildungsroman” (147). As this post has detailed, modern readers are interested in more than Jane’s marriage; they are intrigued by the bildungsroman and beyond.

In summary, cover designs indicate what thematic threads in a novel resonate with editors and designers, and thus, presumably, with readers. Closely examining the evolution of Jane Eyre cover art between 1966 and 2020 indicates that publishers’ and readers’ understanding of the novel is expanding. We see covers focusing on Jane in domestic spaces transform into covers where Jane is outdoors or absent entirely. Accordingly, one can infer that modern publishers and readers focus on aspects of the story beyond Jane’s function as a governess or an object of Rochester’s affection; they give Jane more agency and mobility. Indeed, in the typographic covers, Jane has walked off the page entirely.

Works Cited

Botting, Fred. Gothic. Routledge, 1996.

Brontë, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. Penguin Classics, 2006.

Moretti, Franco. “Style, Inc. Reflections on Seven Thousand Titles (British Novels, 1740–1850).” Critical Inquiry, vol. 36, no. 1, 2009, pp. 134–158. 

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[1] Unlike the outdoor cover from 1996, Jane does not appear to be at Thornfield Hall, thus signaling her independence.