Dear reader, it seems an act of fate that National Theatre uploaded a staged adaptation of Charlotte Brontë’s “Jane Eyre” to YouTube on April 9, and though streaming ended on April 16, I had just enough time to write about it for The Lamron. Thank you, Quarantine Gods!
This timely production is a great excuse for me to blabber on about my favorite novel. Jane Eyre is a whirlwind of female agency, denunciation of inequality between social classes and condemnation of the manipulative nature of power dynamics—but in this article, I’ll do my best to limit my analysis to the sections of the story involving themes of isolation and confinement. Because … you know. Those seem the most relevant to us right now.
The National Theater Live YouTube performance of “Jane Eyre” was made accessible online in collaboration with Bristol Old Vic, and both organizations posted links alongside the performance—https://bristololdvic.org.uk/support-us and https://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk—through which they are accepting donations at this time.
Sally Cookson, director of this particular production of “Jane Eyre,” reimagined the tale into a rousing spectacle for London’s National Theater stage. Cookson’s use of a bare wooden set in every scene emphasized the many instances of confinement that emerge in the novel to symbolize the oppression of women—particularly those of lower status—in the 19th century.
There are two major instances in which the women of “Jane Eyre” become physically confined, symbolizing the lack of freedom afforded to women by men in 19th century society. Major spoilers—and minor trigger warnings for anxiety and claustrophobia—up ahead, so turn back now if you haven’t read the book yet or if being locked indoors is really starting to get to you.
The first instance of female imprisonment occurs during Jane Eyre’s childhood. Jane grows up under the care of a cruel aunt and one day is physically attacked by her older male cousin. When Jane uses violence to defend herself, she is blamed for the fight and is locked in the “red room” of the house as punishment—the place where, years earlier, Jane’s uncle had died.
This “red room” reflects young Jane’s “improper” emotions back at her. The color red echoes the anger and defiance that Jane first feels. She narrates her frustration at the injustice of the situation and wonders why she was punished when her male cousin started the fight.
Female imprisonment and simultaneous male freedom symbolize the repression of female anger despite its justifiable origins in unpunished abuse from powerful male figures. Anger can be representative of any overly passionate emotion—such as desire, fear or depression—which ought to be silenced in women according to the protocols of 19th century society.
As daylight fades and the red room is cloaked in darkness, Jane begins to feel another passionate emotion: fear. She can only decide between three potential courses of action in her terrified state: physical escape, escape through death or escape through madness. A physical escape is ruled out immediately because it’s impossible for young Jane; she can’t break down the locked door and the servants outside refuse to let her out.
Jane briefly considers starving herself to death as a way to teach her aunt a lesson and a way to leave the miserable situation but, as Jane becomes more frightened at the loss of light, she starts to convince herself that she can see her dead uncle’s ghost. In a fit of terror and fear—otherwise referred to as madness—Jane faints, thereby escaping the situation.
This progression through passionate emotions—from anger to defiance to fear—represent Jane’s reaction to male privilege and the repression of female emotion. It’s easy to conclude that the red room is an allegory for social restrictions put in place by the patriarchy. This is further evidenced in a second, perhaps better known, instance of female imprisonment.
This instance is made known to readers when we discover that Jane’s suitor Mr. Rochester already has a wife who isn’t Jane Eyre. Oh, and that his current wife is chained up in his attic.
Bertha, Mr. Rochester’s first wife, has a mental illness that makes her violent and volatile. In the novel and in the stage production, Bertha is labeled insane. Sound familiar? Let’s look back at the three options granted to women who have been imprisoned by society. It’s clear which option Bertha is forced to choose after being locked away by Mr. Rochester: escape through madness.
In the stage production of “Jane Eyre,” Cookson chose to dress Bertha in red, drawing a visual parallel between Jane’s “red room” experience and Bertha’s own involuntary confinement. Bertha clearly experiences the same anger and defiance that the young, imprisoned Jane felt—she even tries to physically harm Mr. Rochester, presumably because it’s his fault that she’s locked away.
The difference between Bertha and Jane is that Jane experiences fear. This might be attributed to the fact that Jane remains bound to social norms, afraid of the influence of the patriarchal forces that govern society—embodied by the ghost of her uncle in the red room—while Bertha has nothing left to fear because she has escaped social constraint through madness.
By the production’s end, it is revealed that Bertha has been able to escape the attic, set Mr. Rochester’s house on fire and has killed herself by leaping from the roof. So once again, let’s look back to the three options granted to imprisoned women.
Bertha didn’t stop at physically escaping the situation. She didn’t stop at escape through madness. Bertha tried to escape through all three paths afforded to isolated women, and none ended happily. Bertha proved to her audience that 19th century women were forever imprisoned by men’s influence on society.
On that lighthearted note, maybe now would be a good time to remind you that our current, voluntary confinement will not last forever. We have resources to reach out to so that we aren’t trapped between a few miserable options.
If you find yourself feeling a little mad in isolation, talk to a virtual therapist, reach out to a helpline like the crisis text line at 741741 or just enjoy the free entertainment granted to us by generous organizations like National Theatre Live, Paramount Pictures, Lionsgate Live! and Focus Features.
Hopefully we can all be like Jane Eyre and come out of this isolation even stronger than before we went into it—but until then, let’s just try not to start any fires or convince ourselves that we’re seeing ghosts.