Jane Eyre’ (Charlotte Brontë, 1847) PAG 48

After the revelation that Mr Rochester is already married, they all go to see his wife, Bertha
Mason, who is guarded by Grace Poole.

In a room without a window, there burnt a fire guarded by a high and strong fender,
and a lamp suspended from the ceiling by a chain. Grace Poole bent over the fire,
apparently cooking something in a saucepan. In the deep shade, at the further end of
the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. What it was, whether beast or
human being, one could not, at first sight, tell; it grovelled, 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.
‘Good-morrow, Mrs Poole!’ said Mr Rochester. ‘How are you? And how is your charge
today?’‘ We’re tolerable, sir, I thank you,’ replied Grace, lifting the boiling mess
carefully on to the hob: ‘rather snappish but not, ’rageous.’ A fierce cry seemed to
give the lie to her favourable report: the clothed hyena rose up, and stood tall on its
hind feet. ‘Ah, sir, she sees you!’ exclaimed Grace: ‘you’d better not stay.’ ‘Only a few
moments, Grace: you must allow me a few moments. Take care, then sir! – for God’s
sake, take care!’ The maniac bellowed: she parted her shaggy locks from her visage,
and gazed wildly at her visitors. I recognised well that purple face – those bloated
features. Mrs Poole advanced. ‘Keep out of the way,’ said Mr Rochester, thrusting her
aside: ‘she has no knife now, I suppose, and I’m on my guard.’ One never knows what
she has, sir: she is so cunning: it is not in mortal discretion to fathom her craft.’ ‘ We
had better leave her,’ whispered Mason. ‘Go to the devil!’ was his brother-in-law’s
recommendation. ‘ Ware!’ cried Grace. The three gentlemen retreated
simultaneously. Mr Rochester flung me behind him; the lunatic sprang and grappled
his throat viciously, and laid her teeth to his cheek: they struggled. She was a big
woman, in stature almost equalling her husband, and corpulent besides: she showed
virile force in the contest – more than once she almost throttled him, athletic as he
was. He could have settled her with a well-planted blow; but he would not strike: he
would only wrestle. At last he mastered her arms; Grace Poole gave him a cord, and
he pinioned them behind her: with more rope, which was at hand, he bound her to a
chair. The operation was performed amidst the fiercest yells, and the most
convulsive plunges. Mr Rochester then turned to the spectators: he looked at them
with a smile both acrid and desolate. ‘That is my wife,’ said he. ‘Such is the sole
conjugal embrace I am ever to know – such are the endearments which are to solace
my leisure hours! And this is what I wished to have (laying his hand on my shoulder):
this young girl, who stands so grave and quiet at the mouth of hell, looking
collectedly at the gambols of a demon. I wanted her just as a change after that fierce
ragout. Wood and Briggs, look at the difference! Compare these clear eyes with the
red balls yonder – this face with that mask – this form with that bulk: then judge me,
priest of the Gospel and man of the law, and remember with what judgement ye
judge ye shall be judged!’

TRADUZIONE: Vedemmo una camera senza finestra. Davanti al caminetto

c'era un alto parafuoco, una lampada sospesa al soffitto rischiarava la stanza.
Grace Poole curva sul fuoco pareva che facesse cuocere qualcosa. Una forma si
agitava nell'angolo più scuro della camera, a prima vista non si capiva se fosse
una creatura umana o un animale. Pareva che camminasse carponi, e faceva
udire un ruggito da fiera, ma era vestita e una massa di capelli neri e grigi
formavano come una criniera intorno alla testa di lei. — Buongiorno, signora
Poole, — disse il signor Rochester — Come state e come sta la vostra malata? —
Abbastanza bene, signore, vi ringrazio, — disse Grace, alzando con cura il bricco
che bolliva, — è agitata ma non furiosa. Un grido selvaggio smentì subito il
favorevole rapporto; l'iena vestita da donna si alzò in piedi. — Oh! signore, vi
vede! Fareste meglio ad andarvene, — esclamò Grace. — Pochi minuti soltanto,
Grace; bisogna che mi concediate pochi minuti. — Ebbene, allora, signore, state
in guardia. Per l'amor di Dio, state in guardia! La pazza gridò: ella si alzò i capelli
dal viso e guardò i visitatori. Io riconobbi quel viso scarlatto, quei tratti gonfi.
Grace Poole si avanzò. — Ritiratevi, — disse il signor Rochester, spingendola da
un lato. — Oggi suppongo che non abbia il coltello e sto bene attento. — Non si
sa mai che cos'abbia, signore; è così maligna e non v'è forza umana che possa
resisterle. — Faremmo meglio di andarcene, — balbettò Mason. — Andate al
diavolo, — gli disse il cognato. — In guardia! — gridò Grace. I tre signori si
ritirarono simultaneamente, il signor Rochester mi spinse dietro a sé. La pazza si
gettò su di lui, lo prese per il collo cercando di mordergli il viso. Essi lottarono. La
pazza era forte, di statura quasi eguale al marito, ma più corpulenta; ella spiegò
una forza virile: più di una volta fu sul punto di strozzarlo, benché egli fosse un
vero atleta. Egli l'avrebbe potuta abbattere con un colpo vigoroso, ma evitava di
colpirla, voleva soltanto lottare. Alla fine afferrò la pazza per le braccia e gliele
legò dietro la schiena con una corda che gli dette Grace; con un'altra corda la
legò ad una sedia. Questa operazione fu compiuta in mezzo a grida feroci e ad
orribili convulsioni; allora il signor Rochester si volse agli spettatori e li guardò
con un amaro e triste sorriso. — Ecco mia moglie, — disse, — ecco i soli
amplessi coniugali che mi sono riserbati, ecco le carezze che debbono addolcire
le mie ore di riposo. E questa è ciò che desideravo avere, — aggiunse
ponendomi una mano sulla spalla. — Questa ragazza, che ha saputo rimanere
calma e grave dinanzi alla porta dell'inferno ed alle piroette del demonio;
l'amavo appunto per il contrasto fra lei e l'altra. "Wood, Briggs, guardate che
differenza! Paragonate questi occhi limpidi con quelle palle sanguigne, questo
volto con quella maschera, questo corpo con quella massa di carne, e ora
giudicatene voi, ministri del Vangelo, voi uomo della legge; soltanto
rammentatevi che sarete giudicati come avete giudicato.
SUMMARY:
Sophie helps Jane dress for the wedding, and Rochester and Jane walk to the
church. Jane notes a pair of strangers reading the headstones in the
churchyard cemetery. When Jane and Rochester enter the church, the two
strangers are also present. When the priest asks if anyone objects to the
ceremony, one of the strangers answers: “The marriage cannot go on: I declare the
existence of an impediment.” Rochester attempts to proceed with the ceremony, but
the stranger explains that Rochester is already married—his wife is a Creole woman
whom Rochester wed fifteen years earlier in Jamaica. The speaker explains that he
is a solicitor from London, and he introduces himself as Mr. Briggs. He produces a
signed letter from Richard Mason affirming that Rochester is married to Mason’s
sister, Bertha. Mr. Mason himself then steps forward to corroborate the story.
After a moment of inarticulate fury, Rochester admits that his wife is alive and
that in marrying Jane he would have been knowingly taking a second wife. No
one in the community knows of his wife because she is mad, and Rochester
keeps her locked away under the care of Grace Poole. But, he promises them
all, Jane is completely ignorant of Bertha’s existence. He orders the crowd to
come to Thornfield to see her, so that they may understand what impelled him to his
present course of action. At Thornfield, the group climbs to the third story.
Rochester points out the room where Bertha bit and stabbed her brother, and
then he lifts a tapestry to uncover a second door. Inside the hidden room is Bertha
Mason, under the care of Grace Poole. Jane writes:

In the deep shade, at the farther end of the room, a figure ran backwards and
forwards. What it was, whether beast or human being, one could not, at first
sight tell: it grovelled, 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.

Bertha attempts to strangle Rochester, who reminds his audience, “this is the
sole conjugal embrace I am ever to know.” Jane leaves the room with Mason
and Briggs, who tells her that he learned of her intent to marry Jane via a
letter from Jane’s uncle, John Eyre, to Mason. It turns out that the two men are
acquaintances, and Mason had stopped in Madeira on his way back to Jamaica
when John received Jane’s letter. Approaching death, John asked Mason to hurry to
England to save his niece. After the wedding crowd disperses, Jane locks
herself in her room and plunges into an inexpressible grief. She thinks about
the almost calm manner in which the morning’s events unfolded and how it
seems disproportionate to the immense effect those events will have on her
life. She prays to God to be with her.

Analysis
The incident of the “madwoman in the attic” is probably the most famous in Jane Eyre, and
it has given rise to innumerable interpretations and symbolic readings. For example, Bertha
Mason could represent the horror of Victorian marriage. Rochester claims to have
imprisoned her because she is mad, but it is easy to imagine an opposite relation of cause
and effect, in which years of enforced imprisonment and isolation have made her violently
insane or, at least, increased her insanity. Thus, the madwoman in the attic could
represent the confining and repressive aspects of Victorian wifehood, suggesting that the
lack of autonomy and freedom in marriage suffocates women, threatening their mental
and emotional health. Bertha’s tearing of Jane’s wedding veil could be seen as symbolizing
her revolt against the institution of marriage. Another interpretation is that Rochester’s
marriage to Bertha represents the British Empire’s cultural and economic exploitation of its
colonial subjects. Briggs’s letter states that Bertha’s mother is a “Creole,” which could
mean either that she is a person of European descent born in the colonies or that she is of
black or mixed descent. In either case, Bertha might have evoked British anxieties about
having to deal with the other cultures under Britain’s dominion, and Bertha’s
imprisonment might signify Britain’s attempt to control and contain the influence of these
subject cultures by metaphorically “locking them in the attic.” Still another
interpretation of Bertha is that she is a double for Jane herself, the
embodiment of Jane’s repressed fear and anger, both in regard to her specific
situation and in regard to oppression . For although Jane declares her love for
Rochester, her dreams and apprehensions suggest that she also secretly fears being
married to him, perhaps even that she secretly wants to rage against the imprisonment that
marriage could become for her. Although Jane does not manifest this fear or rage, Bertha
does. Thus, Bertha tears the bridal veil, and it is Bertha’s existence that stops the wedding
from going forth. Each of these arguments provides an interesting way of thinking about
the text, but it is also important to recognize that Bertha does not function merely as a
symbol. Her presence is also a gripping story element and a source of external
psychological distress for Jane, from which Jane develops and grows. Similarly, Thornfield
could be seen as “British Society at Large,” but Thornfield is more than just an allegory.
The relationships between Thornfield’s inhabitants as well as its architecture and grounds
are all important to Jane’s story. Lastly, Jane herself, while possessing many proto-feminist
viewpoints, is not simply a symbol for the “Victorian Woman.” Her individual psychology
cannot be read as representing the mindset of all Victorian women.