Gothic Romance and Unlikely Endings

Charlotte Brontë, having been a mousy little governess for many years, knew well the limitations of women in her situation. Each passing year, and her social isolation, lowered her chances of meeting a marriage partner. With more than a rudimentary education, a vocation that encouraged the attainment of knowledge and critical thinking, and the psychological ability to live independently, she was not likely to find someone who would appreciate her inner self enough to dismiss all her social shortcomings. But in her imagination, anything was possible. Just think of all the books that have been written since Jane Eyre, in which an ordinary girl like you or me finds herself at an impressively dark and brooding castle or manor house, presided over by an equally dark and brooding (and invariably attractive) man, and, after a series of nerve-wracking adventures, finds that this man wants only her. His distant, moody arrogance masked a lonely heart in which only she had found a way to set up home. (Sigh!) As a teenager, my favorite author of that genre was Victoria Holt, which was one of the many pen names of Eleanor Hibbert. She was also Jean Plaidy and Philippa Carr, writing historical fiction.

Here we have Dolly and Minerva attending a party at Thornfield, Mr. Rochester's home. Edward and Jane are married, much to the chagrin of Blanche Ingram. Of course, Thornfield, at that point was burned and abandoned, and Edward was blind and blighted by scandal. Jane could have only made a life with him in that state; never as mistress of Thornfield.

Here's a factoid: Did you know that Charlotte Brontë was about 4'9" or 4'10" in height? Even in those days, she was considered exceptionally small. Her sister Emily was about 5'6".

Sources: room (Cooper-Hewitt Collection), ladies, Mr. Rochester, naughty couple, man in blue, man in black.

What Every Woman Ought To Know

Back in 6th Grade (way back), our teacher was talking about life for girls in colonial America. Girls were encouraged to learn the"Three R's", Reading, Writing, and 'Rithmatic, and the rest was at-home training for their future lives as homemakers and wives of farmers, laborers, or artisans. If a family was well-off, a girl might have a tutor or governess at home and continue on at a school for young ladies. There, she would study literature, geography, and history. She would learn to speak French reasonably well, to play an instrument or sing, embroider, paint pictures, and dance. Most importantly, she would learn deportment: how a lady should behave. As my teacher was telling us this, my mind wandered (as it usually did), putting myself into that situation. What bliss! What fulfillment! Imagine, eleven-year-old Me, spending all your days doing exactly what you love doing! 

Then (crash back to earth), I realized that she was describing how limited and unfair life was to females of those times. Today, we have choices and opportunities! Alright, I am happy for girls who want to be doctors, lawyers, scientists, and heads of state. But does that mean I can't go to Miss Standstraight's School for Young Ladies and not be considered a sad commentary on the the quality of education for females of today? It was 1963, and the times, they were a-changin'. One thing hasn't changed. If your earning capacity is based on the above skills, you are going to need a tall, dark, second income, as a single friend of mine once commented.

Here we begin the education of Dolly and Minerva. A governess was employed to live in their home and instruct the girls. Being a governess was one of the few respectable opportunities for a woman of good background who found herself with some education and no husband. It was often a lonely life, as she was ranked below the family she worked for, but above the servants, and, therefore, unable to socialize with either group. I'm sure you recognize Jane Eyre. I was in 8th Grade when I read (ate up) this book. It was the 1943 edition with the illustrations by Fritz Eichenberg that captured perfectly the dark agony of the story. Do you remember little Adèle, Jane's pupil? Jane spoke of her so dismissively, as a little "poppet", as the child's mother had taught her to be silly and vain, only thinking of gifts and new dresses. Poor Adèle! I think she turned out alright.