Delightful Wordplay and Concealed Conflict in 'Jane Eyre'
Charlotte Brontë’s novel, Jane Eyre, employs a wonderful turn of phrase, all stemming from Jane’s last name, “Eyre”. It is so unbelievably multifunctional, I could barely tolerate my excitement and exasperation while unravelling this etymological puzzle. I would like to present a linguistic account of symbolism from “Eyre” through connotative and denotative means followed by homonymic; firstly, “Eyre” has a literal and metaphorical meaning, and don’t get me started on the homonymic interpretations with the additional “Air”, “Err”, and “Heir”, which are, of course, used—hilariously—literally, physically, conceptually, and metaphorically to symbolize the mystery and concealment surrounding the hidden “Eyre”.
Let us begin with definitions so everyone is on the same page: an “eyre” is actually a word which means a circuitous court that makes rounds in a given geographical area. “Air” may be used to add to the hidden aspect of vanishment: to disappear into thin air. “Err” has meanings threefold: to make a mistake, to violate accepted moral standards and/or to stray, and finally, to make a mistake, but of godly proportion. Finally, “heir” also with three meanings: a person who inherits an estate, one who succeeds in line of rank, title, and/or office, and finally, a receiver of heritage.
To start, let’s begin with Jane’s last name: “Eyre”. Jane’s story starts with injustice, and by the end, she receives justice; that is quite literally the plot. “The Justice of Jane [Eyre]” could be the title. However, “eyre” also has a metaphorical meaning: a circuitous court... or, in other words full-circle justice. Her story has a metaphorical full-circle ending in various ways: discovery, identity, karma etc. It doesn’t truly matter how one looks at it because no matter the spectrum one judges Jane, she grows and comes full-circle from some kind of ignorance to some kind of wisdom or knowledge. So, that’s one aspect down.
Jane’s last name itself is hidden in plain sight: a hidden heir. Her “heir-hood” is hidden from her conceptually (she doesn’t realize she has living relatives), physically (she is hidden intentionally from blood), and literally (she doesn’t realize she inherits the estate). At the outset, the concept of her lineage is hidden from her by her aunt. When Jane is a child, her own lineage is concealed from her in the form of not knowing her parents, and not even knowing the status of her father. The scenario is that her actual witch of an aunt flagrantly abused and then misguided Jane about her family, stating her father was probably a vagrant of some kind and not the rich, upstanding man that he was—a man with two surviving brothers that she may have sought aid with no less.
The second unveiling of this situation is finding out she had an uncle inquire after her, but that the matter was, for some reason, dropped. The final reveal of this scenario is that the aunt, on her deathbed, admitted she had told Jane’s uncle a lie, saying that Jane had died at school in the Typhoid fever season, lying about her state of aliveness. This is revealed over years and years as the novel progresses with intricacies being woven in between, but the fact of the matter is, she is physically hidden from her uncle and hidden identity-wise from her cousins.
The final aspect is her not even realizing she is the heir to the estate. When her uncle dies, a mysterious niece is left the entirety of the estate, and Jane does not realize she is that niece. There are so many layers to this, it’s unbelievable.
Anyway, onward. I’d like to call this section: “mistakes were made”, or “to Eyre, or not to err; that is the question.” There are multiple follies, so let’s begin with the man, the myth, the legend: Mr. Rochester. There are three definitions of “err”, and unfortunately, Rochester satisfies every single one. The first is to make a mistake, the second is also to make a mistake, but of disappointing-God proportions, and the final is to stray.
He conceals his feelings for her from her, and attempts to incense her into a response of affection through taciturn means (ah, yes, the green-eyed monster in all his wisdom). The first indication of something fishy in the scenario is the gypsy woman who comes to the estate to tell all the single women of the house their fortunes. Mr. Rochester is, of course, the gypsy in disguise and is thus partial to information that no gypsy would obviously have. To the dim-witted females that come to the room prior Jane (not that Jane is a genius here, just not afflicted with mental deficiencies I suppose) they are astounded and freaked out, but Jane figures it out after a discussion about her feelings towards Mr. Rochester... with Mr. Rochester who was, again, (on the nose), disguised in plain sight. He is also, at this time, pretending to court one of the ‘dim-witted’ females, but not actually. Just... plot reasons, but I swear, it’s very entertaining.
The next portion to this juicy tale is that Mr. Rochester intends to marry, but will not say who the lucky lady is. Later, in a conversation when their relationship picks up speed, (this is to say, 0-100), Jane is walking by the moonlight when she encounters her employer, Mr. Rochester. He drops the bomb that the woman he has been intending to marry all along is Jane, and then he proposes. (Their minds, I have to say, are akin, and if she’d have ended up with anyone else, I would have cried because that would have been a straight-up tragedy, but they’re not happily ever after yet. The plot thickens like a nice roux up ahead.)
Finally, the last twist to this twisty plot is that, damn, the man’s already married to a psychopath upstairs, one who has already tried to murder both of them while they both slept. Whoops. Turns out he’s been hiding his wife of like, fifteen years, upstairs in the attic because she’s clinically insane. (He was obviously not aware of this when he tied that unfortunate knot. Get to know your intended before you walk down that aisle, kiddos or they may try to burn you alive in your bed.)
Mr. Rochester’s first mistake was marrying a stranger who happened to also be a murderous psychopath. His second mistake was keeping that psychopath hidden and confined to his own attic (and it could also be said that not divorcing her was a grievous third mistake, but is it really?? *squints suspiciously*.) He then really makes a mistake attempting to marry Jane while already married, which to the eyes of god and man, in traditional view, is sacrilege, or *le gasp* polygamy. Finally, after his marriage to Jane is squandered, he makes a third? fourth? mistake and remains married to miss lost-all-her-marbles-many-years-since, and she sets his house on fire; Mr. Rochester, as a result, “strays” to another estate of his. That’s like... how many mistakes? I’m bad at math and lazy, but that’s quite a few.
Naturally, learning that your fiancé is already married is alarming and upsetting... I imagine, it’s never happened to me. I’ve had altogether different shocks. Jane too has a couple of flawed-judgement moments, namely, leaving Mr. Rochester’s employ with nothing. As she knew nothing of Mr. Rochester’s previous marriage, she is not a part of the “at odds with God squad”, but nonetheless, she does then stray at the exact same time as erring. Did it all work out alright? Yes, but it’s a book, so it kind of had to. If this happened in real life? Dead in a field... or at her cousins’ doorstep because she didn’t give her real name. How funny would that be? Dying at your relatives doorstep because you refused to give up your identity as family. Anyway, that’s conjecture and irrelevant, so I will leave that as food for thought.
Back to the point... she conceals herself from Mr. Rochester in her running away from him, and in another twist of fate, finds herself at the doorstep of her cousins (unbeknownst to her) having given them an alias, Jane Eliot (moron... her cousins’ last names are Eyre. More hidden Eyre heirs.) They nurse her back to health, help her find a job and housing, and she lives there peacefully for some time. The cousins then get a letter that their uncle has died and that he has left all his wealth to another cousin. Then, they find out months after that, that Jane’s name is actually Eyre, and Sinjin, one of her cousins, confronts her about it, and then it is revealed to her that she is the other cousin that the estate was left to.
In short, Jane Eyre lied to her Eyre cousins, hiding the fact that she was the Eyre heir. She decides to split it in four between herself and cousins feeling what it is to have family for the first time. She then, after more trials and tribulations, finds that Mr. Rochester is now hidden from her.
The final homonym: air. This one is the cherry on top. In a nutshell, the situation is thus:
Due to Mr. Rochester’s previous errs, his Jane Eyre disappears into thin air before she finds out she’s an heir... Also, he loses his sight in a fire caused by his psycho wife, and he is blind, so he literally can't see her.
The irony. The tragedy. The drama. The play on words. Jane Eyre’s last name is a symbol for things that are hidden. It is a reoccurring motif; her heritage has like, eight tiers of hidden-ness, which is honestly impressive. The Victorian novel was known for plots on intrigue and mystery.
Jane Eyre does not disappoint. 10/10 I do recommend.