Tears of Joy and Sorrow

Of course I am so happy with the end of the book. (Although I hate to say book now; it feels as if we didn't read this account, but were with Jane through every part of the journey.) I cried like a baby. It was so beautiful. Emily, perhaps it was inevitable in the sense that true love reigns. Oh, how overcome with joy I was to know that Mr. Rochester was alive. My breath caught just as Jane's did as she was in the Rochesters Arms place talking to the man employed of the late Mr. Rochester. I about died. And just as Jane's blood began coursing through her veins again, mine did as well.
At their reunion, I cried. I couldn't help it. It was something I hoped for greatly, and would have been passionately fueled with anger if Bronte had not allowed their love to join in the end. I was so angry with St. John for the longest while, especially when he was reading out of the Bible with malice and smug hypocrisy. So, I skipped with joy throughout the entire three days of travel Jane embarked on and I feared the exact same things that Jane did. Had he left England forever? Was he still alive? Had he taken his own life, or had Bertha?
I was worried about Rochester, but my worrisome thoughts heightened as I learned he was blind and his hand was amputated. I must say, I almost laughed maliciously at the vivid imagery of Bertha's suicide. Yet I caught myself as I thought of her life. I must say that I have convinced myself that she was not correct in the head, and not just a strong woman notorious for sexual habits. Yet, I must dedicate a few moments of silence to her sad life of being locked up; I believe jealousy got a hold of her as Jane appeared. (Moulin Rouge has greatly altered my perception of everything.... Everyone is driven mad by jealousy in some way or another.)
At their reunion, I cried. I couldn't help it. It was something I hoped for greatly, and would have been passionately fueled with anger if Bronte had not allowed their love to join in the end. I was so angry with St. John for the longest while, especially when
The faith of Mr. Rochester in his fairy. (I absolutely love it when he refers to her as his fairy. And now she truly is his magical creature, leading him around when he had no hope. Her voice carried by magical wind to his aid, when they both needed a miracle so much.) With no sight, it was so easy for him to fall into the trap of imagination ruling out cruelest of cruel reality. I grieved for his longing to see Jane again and as he held her for the first time in the longest while, he could not see her. Yet memory is kind and cannot let go of the images of loves' truest form so quickly. Throughout the book, there was a lot of Christianity, yet this seemed to be the most gripping passage that instilled religion in every action of the characters. Mr. Rochester could barely see the blazing fire, and that was his only beacon. Yet he had to trust Jane, and have the faith to know she wasn't going to leave, or just let him wander off without aid. As she says how she never tires of helping him; reading to him, explaining the scenery, leading him around, being "literally, the apple of his eye" this shows ever greater love than what we witnessed two hundred pages before.
Lovely, short little marriage, long awaited. Happiness factory!
Mr. Lavender, you tease and deceive us tremendously! The bed that Rochester almost died in was not the honeymoon bed; Thornfield Hall was burnt long before the most important scene that we never even had a glimpse at. I was disappointed in this. All is well though. They had a baby boy, whose name was never mentioned. Adele is living a better life now, and so is everyone, I guess. Except us, who have to say good-bye to Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester, at least for the time being, and go on to other books.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and it is quickly added to my list of favourites! I can't wait to re-read it and re-analyze Bronte's amazing work! Thanks for posting, reading my posts, commenting, and adding your analysis! Lovely work classmates!