Social Classes In Jane Eyre

First published in 1847, Charlotte Bronte's popular and famous Victorian publication Jane Eyre transcends both the past and present, becoming one of literature's most renown stories with an original, yet brilliant pair of characters that define what it means to be truly in love. Following narrator and protagonist's Jane Eyre's abusive upbringing and maladaptive adolescence in the Lowood School, into her position as governess of the young Adele in Thornfield Hall, the story portrays a life that begins so backward and detrimental, but with the right dosage of love, passion, and direction, blossoms into a heart warming happy ending. Jane, having survived years of misfortune and forced to conformity through her possession, rightfully spends the latter part of her life, and the end of the story itself, with the man she desires: Edward Rochester. The compatibility of these two lovers, though quite perfectly matched through their temperament, physicality, and personality, differs in one specific area that, as a result, splits Rochester and Jane for several years before they are able to reunite. The difference in social classes between Jane's profession as a lowly, plain governess in the service industry and Rochester's position as rich, landowner aristocratic ultimately separates the two lovers on a level that they cannot themselves personally conquer, becoming the defining barrier between their love and the possibility of marriage. Rochester lives a life of riches, associating himself with the splendor and grandeur of the British upper classes, living in a large manor among several hired servants. Furthermore, Rochester's title and social class require that he spend his time around such "very showy, but not genuine" lords and ladies, those whose had "many brilliant attainments" but with "poor minds" and "hearts barren by nature" (Bronte 211). Individuals like Blanche Ingram and Colonel Dent, who waste much of their time basking in lavish parlors playing such silly games as charades and involve themselves in petty gossip to add merit to their actions. Through unwritten but nonetheless enforced social customs, Rochester is encouraged to marry a suitor of the same social status with wealth to spread to the family for generations, settling on the beautiful, but internally void Blanche Ingram as a bride. Because Jane is of such a lowly class and does not socially match Rochester, she cannot be considered as a realistic or probable suitor, making it all the more surprising when Rochester exclaims his infinite and undying love for her. Jane is dumbfounded at the ridiculousness of the situation, stating, "I was incredulous" after Rochester declares, "my bride is here...because my equal is here, and my likeness" (Bronte 292). Rochester declares the emptiness of arranged marriages, something that has plagued him before, announcing, "I would not- I could not- marry Miss Ingram" (Bronte 293). Despite this intimate and truthful connection that Rochester shares for Jane, and Jane for Rochester, their social status, in combination with prior events past fueled by the need for family inheritance hold their marriage back for several years. It is not until Rochester resolves his ties to Bertha Mason and truly ends their relationship in the form of Bertha's death in the fire at Thornsfield that him and Jane may finally reunite and unleash their full fervor. Even so, Rochester is partly crippled and blinded by the flames, symbolizing not only a literal loss of various functions and parts of the body, but a loss of social status that fortunately for the couple, equalizes them and finally makes them perfectly compatible for a fairy-tale, "happy ending'.

Satan: The First Antihero?

Depicted as the vengeful, controlling master of Hell in John Milton’s epic poem Paradise Lost, Lucifer, the fallen angel who seeks vengeance against those who have cast him from the sacred ranks in Heaven, is one of the most significant characters and arguably one of the most definitive antiheros in all of literary history. After the catastrophic conclusion of events between Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, Lucifer, blamed for the wrongs and sins the couple committed, is thrown down from the divine paradise, never to return again. Here, Milton begins his poem, narrating the plans of Lucifer and his exchanges with the other demons in Hell as he schemes to extract revenge against those who have wrongfully convicted and punished him. Through various monologues, conversations, and descriptions, Lucifer is illustrated rather positively throughout Book I of the epic poem, creating a character who despite his dreary predicament, displays extreme confidence and self-assurance, someone who possesses enough gusto to express, “better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven” (Milton 1.263). This confidence, along with Lucifer’s supposed innocence and wrongful conviction, allow the reader to easily sympathize, and at the same time, remain in awe of Lucifer’s untouchable response to such a catastrophe. Thus, Lucifer follows a typical pattern that countless literary antiheros also produce, in which the reader is at first turned away by the character’s “bad boy” qualities, but then later responds with a spellbound obsession, following this antihero and secretly hoping that they prevail in the end. In fact, Milton’s Lucifer may have been the first definitive antihero, possessing many of the characteristics that readers do not find “good”, but still having a distinctive set of qualities and a distinctive manner that readers find enthralling. Lucifer’s temperament, his adaptive abilities to make “a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven”, and a kingdom of his own, are all characteristics readers find appealing and make him as the first antihero in all of literature, leading the way for thousands of others to follow (Milton 1.255)

The Tempest

Miranda:
 I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison. (Act 1, Scene 2)

In The Tempest, one of the last published plays of famous poet and playwright William Shakespeare, main character Prospero avenges his right on the political throne by drawing a host of rambunctious sailors, along with his brother Antonio, to his remote island. As the action unfolds between the players, relationships and deep conflicts are revealed, ultimately leading to a fantastic conclusion for one of literature's most celebrated plays. Caliban, the only true native to Prospero's isolated island, is a truly conflicted man, caught in a life where he doubles as the mistreated slave, as well as a callous and savage monster that acts purely out of an animistic instinct. First "rescued" by Prospero, this son of the witch Sycorax appears as a half-witted, almost feral creature that is taught by both Prospero and Miranda to speak and act accordingly as a human being. Caliban's quest for acceptance and transformation into a sensible being, however, is hindered when he attempts to rape Miranda in order to further populate Prospero's remote island. From this point onwards, the father and daughter loose all respect for Caliban, regarding him as a fierce brute and their slave. In the passage above, Miranda openly expresses her attitude towards Caliban, and her failed attempt to teach him the virtues of human life, to which he turned away from and instead crawled back towards his monstrous origins. Shakespeare's use of certain adjectives and verbs in describing Caliban's learning process not only exhibits Miranda's lost faith and negative opinion of Caliban, but also develops Caliban's dual character as the violent, instinctual monster. Words such as "savage", "brutish", "vile", and even the verb "gabble", paint an extremely dissenting picture of his character, portraying him as a true fiend and turning readers away from Caliban's other side of the mistreated slave. Readers, and the audience, are less likely to sympathize with Caliban and pity him for having lost almost everything, and instead take Miranda's opinion that he is in fact a barbarian. Furthermore, the tone created in the passage and the degrading insults given by Miranda to Caliban show the strained relationships between the characters. Miranda's disapproving, almost hateful tone displays the change in their relationship before Caliban attempted to rape her and expose his side as a true monster, and as a consequence, her cold, distrust behavior afterwards. In the beginning, both father and daughter aide Caliban in his transformation from fiend to human individual, however, this attitude changes completely after his attempt. Thus, Miranda has lost all respect for Caliban, exclaiming that he is "deservedly confined to this rock...more than a prison", and expressing the broken relationship between the two. Caliban, a controversial character, clashes between character archetypes and defies reader's expectations, creating a place among Shakepeare's stage creations.

One Hundred Years of Indifference

As one of the most heralded and influential pieces of Latin American literature to date, Gabriel Garcia Marquez's epic novel One Hundred Years of Solitude has become an extremely important magical realist work in the literary canon. The novel spans the rise and fall of the remote and reclusive town of Macondo, as well as the progression of several generations of the legendary Buendia family, leading from their origin in patriarch Jose Arcadio Buendia, to their demise at the hands of Aureliano and Amaranta Ursula almost a century later. Throughout the novel and time in Macondo, Marquez, from an authorial point of view, adopts a characteristic element of magical realism, exhibiting authorial indifference and reticence in order to establish the supernatural components of Macondo and its inhabitants without undermining their existence. This brilliant use of reticence creates somewhat of an ordinary, mundane perspective of magic from both the narrator and the characters themselves. To them, these occurrences of the supernatural and otherworldly experiences are part of their everyday routines. For example, the levitation and disappearance of Remedios the Beauty into the sky is narrated calmly, observed almost with a note of indifference and nonchalance. The narrator states, "Remedios the Beauty began to rise... waving goodbye in the midst of the flapping sheets that rose up with her, abandoning with her the environment..." (Marquez 255). She is hardly even noticed by her family, or by other members of the community, as they "accepted the miracle" as she suddenly begins to float in the air and gradually vanish from sight, until she is all but gone (Marquez 255). Even her grandmother, Ursula, "was sufficently calm to identify the nature of that determined wind and she left the sheets to the mercy of the light" (Marquez 255).

Furthermore, this authorial reticence is displayed in patriarch Jose Arcadio Buendia's quest for the philosopher's stone, responsible for the transformation of lead into gold and eternal life. An element of magic itself, the philosopher's stone, and Jose Arcadio Buendia's search, is viewed plainly by the narrator, as if it happens frequently and is rather uneventful. Lastly, the reappearance of Melaquiades, who "really had been through death, but had returned beacuse he could not bear the solitude" is also treated rather modestly by both the narrator and the Buendia family (Marquez 54). They easily welcome the apparently dead man into their home without any hesitation, "dusting off old friendships" and acting as if the resurrection of this gypsy is an ordinary occurrence.

Marquez creates this authorial reticence and indifference in order to further point out and signify the
occurrence of these supernatural and magical events. Ironically, the use of this authorial technique and the equivalent character's responses throughout the novel alert the reader at a heightened intensity of when these enchanted events occur. Because of this setup, the reader is more likely to notice among the mundane lives of the residents of Macondo that such an event is happening, and thus be able to clearly discern between magic and reality. One Hundred Years of Solitude, a revolutionary novel filled with both the supernatural and the all too real, exhibits the characteristic components of magical realism, including authorial reticence and indifference. This application of reticence by Marquez allows for the reader to produce their own understanding of the magic in Macondo and create their own reasons for why such events would occur, changing the field of narration and including the reader in a firsthand experience of a lifetime.

The Individual and the Community: A Structuralist View of Brave New World

The modern classic, Brave New World, opened reader's eyes to the disturbing and an all too possible future based on psychological control, genetic and technological manipulation, and the dominant feature of the community throughout society. On a deeper lever of analysis, Aldous Huxley's masterpiece conveys one important binary oppositions hard at work to establish root conflicts that propel the plot and its narrative functions forward.

The struggle of the individual among the herd of the community, is a binary opposition prevalent throughout Brave New World. In this society, the individual is all but abolished, discarded for the importance of the community, either psychological manipulated at an early age to accept this fate, or placed into a drug-induced state (incorporating the notorious soma) as a way of cooperating. The remaining individuals, if there are truly any, lie within the highest castes of the society, the Alphas and Betas, and are intellectually superior then the rest of their fellow citizens. Even so, these "individuals" must fight against the grip of his community, they must find a way to speak out as a voice in the crowd without being crushed underfoot. One man brought to mind in this struggle of opposite concepts, Bernard Marx, a brilliant Alpha Plus, retains his individuality and does not conform to the community's standards. As a result of his individuality and nonconformist status, he is constantly alienated, ostracized, rumored to have blood-alcohol in his surrogate, unaccepted by his society and his peers. He spends most of the entire novel searching for a way of acceptance in the eyes of his contemporaries, some way to fit in without destroying his individuality. When he finally discovers such an opportunity into the communal fold with the discovery of "The Savage", Bernard's popularity skyrockets, and he is finally somewhat accepted by the members of his community. Here, the binary opposition in direct conflict makes itself known, as Bernard is pulled into the lure of his popularity, he begins to conform to their standards, completing certain actions just so that they will accept and like him further. During this time, he gives up a touch of his individuality, and begins to conform to the standards of a large group of his peers, finally motivated by the feeling of acceptance. As the novel comes to a close, however, and Bernard's scientific discovery runs amuck throughout London, he loses that popularity and conformity to the community that he earlier possessed, and is exiled to Iceland. Bernard is never able to fully abandon his individuality, or cover it up in a fog of drugs, as his difference in ideas and opinions still separate him from his "community" at the end of the novel.  Thus, the binary opposition of the individual and the community, two concepts in direct conflict, cannot function equally in Brave New World. Either the individual is overridden by the community, swallowed up whole to live a conformist and shared life, or removed from society completely. The individual causes instability in a world that strives for COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, AND STABILITY, his difference in ideas, opinions, and values, creates a rift, a variable in the community that could produce, if not dealt with, chaos and an end to the society itself.

Revisting Brave New World

As a conflicted individual living through a period in which many other individuals were stripped of their personal freedoms and subjected to harsh life under a dictatorship, Aldous Huxley observed first-hand the methodologies of famous 19th century dictators and their control over their subjects in crowds and as individuals. His essay, titled Brave New World Revisited, further discusses some of the more provocative and slightly disturbing techniques found within his fabled society, and also warns of coming dangers like overpopulation and over-organization. Overpopulation, a problem still facing some of the world's most populous countries today, is described by Huxley as an "impersonal force which [is] now making the world extremely unsafe for democracy", and is "the central problem of mankind" (Huxley 240, 242). In the 19th centuries, among technological advances in medicine that extended the life span of the average man and women and the creation of the developed, modern metropolis that supported millions of people in a small space, overpopulation became an up-and-coming complication for the world's leaders (the world's population in 1951 was two million and eight hundred million). Huxley believed that this imbalanced birth to death ratio, caused by advances in medicine and food production, would lead to a host of other problems, placing economic strain on a nation and eventually endanger "social stability" and "the well-being of individuals" (Huxley 242). Overpopulation leads to strained existing resources, eventually creating economic insecurity within a nation, which then according to Huxley, would allow for "more control by central government and an increase in power" (Huxley 245). Therefore, overpopulation is one of the key factors in the development of an all-powerful totalitarianism dictatorship, as it allows for a gradual release of freedoms by the nation's people in order to obtain economic and social stability from their government.

As the world progresses into the 21st century where even more of these technological developments are available and the birth to death ratio becomes increasingly skewed, overpopulation is still a remaining danger to the loss of democracy. At 7 billion strong, the world stretches its limited natural resources, especially those required for fuel sources (i.e. petroleum, coal, natural gas). Food sources, while mostly plentiful in nations that are wealthy, are dependable on harvests and fluctuating market prices and thus, cannot be depended on by the people to provide for. Countries like China, which are facing large overpopulation calamities, have tried to implement a strict birth control policy like the One Child Policy, which have largely been unsuccessful due to the uncooperative attitude of the Chinese people. For the most part, the world grows and grows to even larger populations without much effort to combat the effects of overpopulation and its drawbacks, including the threat to democracy and the individual.

"A Good Man is Hard to Find" Reaction

 What did I just read?!?!

"A Good Man is Hard to Find", one of Flannery O' Connor's shocking and brilliantly crafted short stories, throws the reader for an unexpected and horrific surprise that changes the entire dynamic of the plot. Narrating the seemingly mundane family road trip among a grandmother, her son Bailey, and his wife and three kids, the story turns the expected upside down, using the road trip to set up a rapid, and ghastly chain of events involving a car wreck, blood, and a criminal named the Misfit. In my opinion, O' Connor's ingenuity is best displayed through her build-up of tension, and the unforeseen ending she masterfully creates. By selecting a situation that a majority, if not all, of her readers can easily relate to, she makes it that much more devastating when the Misfit comes along and begins executing members of the family. Personally, I was dumbfounded, completely shocked, when the criminals systematically murdered each family member. I found myself emotionally attached to each character (some more than others), and was horrified when they met their end at the hands of the Misfit. In less than ten pages, O' Connor forges this level of attachment between the characters and the readers, making it that much more traumatizing and harrowing after this surprise ending. She creates this attachment through general associations with her audience: every reader can relate to the matriarchal grandmother, the stressed father, and the annoying kids in the back seat, all together in one car on a family road trip. The reader may have experienced an exact situation like this, as either a child themselves, as the adult, or on some sort of media. Nonetheless, the reader knows the characters, feels a bond to them, and becomes somewhat attached with what little information is given. This attachment and association that O' Connor employes effectively draws the reader in and invests them into the story, setting them up perfectly for the dramatic, surprise ending. Without such  characters and the emotional investment, O' Connor's ending would have not been as potent and successful, the reader may have been slightly effected, but not to the degree that O' Connor creates.
"A Good Man is Hard to Find", containing Flannery O' Connor's amazing application of foreshadowing, tension, and the surprise ending, throws readers a ridiculous curveball and takes them on a rather emotional rollercoaster that both devastates and horrifies her audience.