"Who in the world cares for you?"

Jane Eyre is my favorite book…

…and here is why: Because the loneliest girl in the world has enough respect for herself to give up the thing she wants the most.

Jane grows up in a world that spares no thought for her. She’s an orphan; she’s lonely; she never feels the comfort of human companionship. She has some friends, yes, but she never really finds a kindred spirit.

Until she meets Rochester. Even though their professional relationship is disparate (he is her employer) as is their social class (he is upper class, and she is a pauper) they become very attached to each other. And it isn’t mere chemistry; their intellect, their minds connect! “It is my spirit that addresses your spirit,” Jane tells Rochester. “Just as if both had passed through the grave and stood at God’s feet, equal. As we are.” Funny that I can write that line from memory.

Jane and Rochester eventually are engaged to be married. If you haven't read the book, I'll try not to spoil it for you here, but all you need to know is that a circumstance arises which makes it absolutely necessary for Jane to break the engagement and leave immediately.

“Not a human being that ever lived could wish to be loved better than I was loved” she says, “and him who thus loved me I absolutely worshipped: [but] I must renounce love and idol. One drear word comprised my intolerable duty.” And that word was “depart.”

Rochester makes a very persuasive argument for her to stay with him. “Give one glance to my horrible life when you are gone,” he says. “All happiness will be torn away with you.” How must she have felt hearing this—the girl who had nothing growing up? Who had been cold and lonely her whole life, and who finally found a kindred spirit only to have to renounce his companionship indefinitely?

While he speaks, her very conscience turns traitor against her, urging her to comply with him. “Think of his misery; think of his danger—look at his state when left alone; […] save him; love him; tell him you love him and will be his. Who in the world cares for you? or who will be injured by what you do?”

Who in the world cares for you? or who will be injured by what you do?

What a frightening question.

And this is why I love Jane Eyre. As Jane battles with her desire to be loved and accepted and her knowledge of what is right, this is her inward reply:

“I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad—as I am now. [“Mad” meaning in the heat of the moment.] Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth? They have a worth—so I have always believed […] There I plant my foot.”

I care for myself, too. That’s why I’m writing this post. My mind has been running around on this theme for the last little while. I do respect myself.

Tangentially, I think this is what God means when he talks about loving yourself in the context of “love thy neighbor as thyself.” Have the same kind of respect for yourself that you would have for your neighbor. And vice versa.

And if that self-respect means being alone, for whatever reason, then so be it. If doing what I feel, and deep down know, is right is the less convenient or accepted way to live, then… okay. I’m prepared to stand alone, but with my chin up. It is a fine and wonderful thing to feel needed by someone. But it is absolutely empowering to respect yourself.

Yes, Jane Eyre is my favorite book--and not just because I'm in love with Rochester (the original Edward, all you misguided Twilight admirers!) but because I admire Charlotte Bronte's representation of Jane. As I said before, the loneliest girl in the world has enough respect for herself to give up the thing she wants the most. (But there is a happy ending, p.s.)

Why is any book ever anybody’s favorite book? Because, on some level, it expresses some truth about our own, factitious (as opposed to fictitous?) lives.