this struggle. After all, According to Bronte’s philosophy, Mr. Rochester and Jane demonstrate the ideal relationship, one in which man and woman are equal. Undoubtedly, Rochester personifies the perfect Gothic man, from his moody and mysterious nature, to his home, the ruinous Thornfield Hall, but he is not the protagonist. By narrating Jane Eyre from a female protagonist’s perspective, Bronte creates a whole new genre, the female Gothic. Therefore, though Jane Eyre remains a Gothic novel, it subverts the commonplace phallocentric elements of Gothic literature by providing logical explanations to supernatural events, using female Gothic symbols, and emphasizing Jane’s impressions of the powerful men in her life. While most Gothic literature delves little into the supernatural events that plague their characters, Jane Eyre makes a point to logically explain every mythical occurrence. During Bronte’s era, misconceptions about menstruation led society to believe women were generally hysteric, and during their “monthly function,” they were thought to be passionate to the point of violence. Bronte ensures that detail for detail, Jane experiences this very same stigma during the iconic red-room scene. After her foster family traps her inside the red room, Jane grows increasingly convinced that the deceased Mr. Reed has returns to comfort her. Forgoing all pride, she screams for assistance, to which Mrs. Reed responds, “’Silence! This violence is almost repulsive…’ She sincerely looked on me as a compound of virulent passions, mean spirit, and dangerous duplicity (Bronte 13)” As opposed to what was common in Gothic literature, Mr. Reed’s apparition was only in Jane’s head, so Jane’s overreaction must significant on a deeper level. Symbolically, the color red often indicates unchecked passion, in addition to being reminiscent of blood, both of which were commonly associated with menstruation. Surely, if the red-room references the “monthly function,” then Mrs. Reed’s reply to Jane’s hysteria was the misogynistic invalidation of emotion women heard consistently. Moreover, the series of supernatural attacks, as well as the mysterious giggling Jane hears from the third floor, both turn out to be Bertha Mason, Mr.
Rochester’s insane wife. Throughout the novel, Bronte leads the reader to attribute the attacks to a vampire of some sort, when in actuality, there exists a logical explanation. Regardless, when Jane first encounters Bertha, she cannot discern, “what it was, whether beast or human being… it groveled seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face (316).” Notice how Jane continuously refers to Bertha as an “it,” even though Jane was already informed in advance the creature was Rochester’s wife. Instead of fully rationalizing Bertha’s actions, Bronte prominently blurs the line between human and animal when describing Bertha. As a result, she maintains some element of the supernatural, without leaving the attacks unexplained. Though improbable, Bertha’s derangement is hardly beyond the
pale. Similarly, Bronte refrains from relying on the supernatural, even when Jane hears Mr. Rochester’s voice calling out to her from an impossible distance. In fact, Jane herself disproves any inkling hearing voices through fantastical means. “’Down superstition!’ [Jane] commented… as the specter rose up black by the black yew at the gate. ‘This is not thy deception, nor thy witchcraft: this is the work of nature.”