Irony Becomes Her

Jane Eyre I: "The love of human beings"

After being neglected and persecuted by her guardian, orphaned Jane Eyre, poor and ugly, is sent to a charitable boarding school where life is hard and comfort rare. Jane's best friend at school, Helen Burns, gently admonishes her not to mind the humiliation she has just undergone at the hand of its cruel superintendent:

"If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends."

"No; I know I should think well of myself; but that is not enough: if others don't love me I would rather die than live -- I cannot bear to be solitary and hated, Helen. Look here; to gain some real affection from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love, I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kicking horse, and let it dash its hoof at my chest -- "

"Hush, Jane! you think too much of the love of human beings; you are too impulsive, too vehement; the sovereign hand that created your frame, and put life into it, has provided you with other resources than your feeble self, or than creatures feeble as you. Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, for they are commissioned to guard us; and if we were dying in pain and shame, if scorn smote us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see our tortures, recognise our innocence ... and God waits only the separation of spirit from flesh to crown us with a full reward. Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness -- to glory?"

This is the first of many times I see myself vividly reflected in the novel's namesake. My deeds, if not my words, often display the same passion for acceptance as she expresses. The "love of human beings" has long been a chief solace for me, with my family and friends feeding the dependency by their constant kindness and approval. When it is withdrawn, even if only in my imagination, my courage quails and my entire self-concept is thrown off balance.

The cause of this appetite, in general, is uncertainty of what is true about ourselves; since we can't tell or would like to hide our weaknesses, our measures of success come from outside sources, and some of these sources are more reliable than others. That's where Helen's assessment of "the race of men" comes into play. Why assume the others from whom we crave approval have fewer or shallower weaknesses than those for which we compensate?

True, faithful, complementary, self-forgetting love, I admit in spite of Helen, is a human need, and it has been ever since Eve was given to Adam. But as soon as we focus on filling it, the "self-forgetting" part is ruined. Like manna in the wilderness, the daily divine provision for our need is spoiled when we attempt to grasp and hoard it. And Helen reminds us that the Father whose approval matters in eternity cannot be deceived by our efforts or by others' cruelty.

Later in the novel, Jane must decide if she really believes what she says here, if she really does prize human approbation over a clear conscience. All of our statements seem to be tested eventually by circumstances: mine, I hope, along with hers whenever I read the book. I intend to explore this in a later post.

Labels: Jane Eyre

posted by Lynn @ 6:20 AM