The Treachery of Windows

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In Charlotte Brontë’s novel Jane Eyre, much, if not all (I have only reached Chapter XXII) of the setting takes place within the domestic realm. In all the manifestations of homes that she visits – a list that most notably spans Gateshead and Thornfield – Brontë mentions windows in abundance. That fact would harbor no significance were it not for Brontë’s careful layering of symbols. Both literally and metaphorically, they serve as divisive elements in Jane’s life. The way they operate as obstacles, however, is unique. While windows impede a person’s progress, they enable a view of the greater world, most often observed from the inside looking out.

The first window Brontë details occurs very early on in the novel. Jane reposes to her window-seat after mentioning that Mrs. Reed said she “really must exclude [her] from privileges intended only for contented, happy children” (Brontë 63). Jane retreats to her window-seat, then, as a way of escaping the harsh treatment by her step-family. When she moves to her abode, her first action is to sit “cross-legged, like a Turk” (63). Jane’s use of the word “Turk” indicates the manner in which she exercises her imagination. “Turk” denotes a sense of Orientalism, fantasies akin to her references to The Arabian Nights throughout childhood. Perhaps more pertinent still is the book she reads at that moment, Bewick’s History of British Birds. She imagines abandoning herself to the “death-white realms” (64) of the Arctic Zone and, in a sense, piloting the air just as the birds do. Although reading lends Jane a sense of escapism, the presence of the window underscores just how far freedom she really is. The glass cleaves her from the natural world and stymies her in the dark dredges of Gateshead. Even her imagination cannot fully protect her, for she is wrested from that comfortable realm by John Reed and into the monotonous terror of the Red Room.

The treachery of windows is again expanded upon Jane’s arrival in Thornfield. While Jane and the visitors of Thornfield dawdle their day away, Adele exclaims to the company that she sees Rochester approaching. Deprived too long of their main source of entertainment, Jane approaches the window and Miss Ingram “[darts] forward from her sofa” (268). In her love-dazed eagerness to see Rochester again, Jane does not realize who the approaching figure is until Miss Ingram observes that “‘He rode Mesrour (the black horse) did he not, when he went out?’” (268). In this instance, too, the window serves as a beguiling barrier. The object of Jane’s affection, Rochester, roams around outside of the house while she remains inside Thornfield. As a governess, the greater part of her life involves spending time in the Hall and caring for Adele. That necessity, however, means she must remain imprisoned. As Jane frequently mentions, she lives as an “inmate” within the house’s walls. She quite literally exists in a thornfield, one populated with seemingly vampiric denizens and masked secrets. Although they provide an avenue for imagination and self-gratifying dreams of escape, the windows ultimately serve as a reminder of just how divorced from the external world Jane is.