Here's a passage I found particularly meaningful:
"Arraigned at my own bar, Memory having given her evidence of the hopes, wishes, sentiments I had been cherishing since last night - of the general state of mind in which I had indulged for nearly a fortnight past; Reason having come forward and told, in her own quiet way, a plain, unvarnished tale, showing how I had rejected the real, and rabidly devoured the ideal; - I pronounced judgement to this effect: -
That a greater fool than Jane Eyre had never breathed the breath of life: that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself on sweet lies, and swallowed poison as if it were nectar.
'You,' I said, 'a favourite of Mr Rochester? You gifted with the power of pleasing him? You of importance to him in any way? Go! your folly sickens me. And you have derived pleasure from occasional tokens of preference - equivocal tokens shown by a gentleman of family and a man of the world to a dependent and a novice. How dared you? Poor stupid dupe! - Could not even self-interest make you wiser? You repeated to yourself this morning the brief scene of last night? - Cover your face and be ashamed! He said something in praise of your eyes, did he? Blind puppy! Open their bleared lids and look on your own accursed senselessness! It does good to no woman to be flattered by her superior, who cannot possibly intend to marry her; and it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it; and, if discovered and responded to, must lead, ignis-fatuus-like, into miry wilds whence there is no extrication.
'Listen, then, Jane Eyre, to your sentence: to-morrow, place the glass before you and draw in chalk your own picture, faithfully, without softening one defect; omit no harsh line, smooth away no displeasing irregularity; write under it, "Portrait of a Governess, disconnected, poor, and plain."
'Afterwards, take a piece of smooth ivory - you have one prepared in your drawing-box: take your palette, mix your freshest, finest, clearest tings; choose your most delicate camel-hair pencils; delineate carefully the loveliest face you can imagine; paint it in your softest shades and sweetest hues, according to the description given by Mrs Fairfax of Blanche Ingram: remember the raven ringlets, the oriental eye; - What! you revert to Mr Rochester as a model! Order! No snivel! - no sentiment! - no regret! I will endure only sense and resolution. Recall the august yet harmonious lineaments, the Grecian neck and bust; let the round and dazzling arm be visible, and the delicate hand; omit neither diamond ring nor gold bracelet; portray faithfully the attire, aërial lace and glistening satin, graceful scarf and golden rose: call it, "Blanche, an accomplished lady of rank."
'Whenever, in future, you should chance to fancy Mr Rochester thinks well of you, take out these two pictures and compare them: say, "Mr Rochester might probably win that noble lady's love, if he chose to strive for it; is it likely he would waste a serious thought on this indigent and insignificant plebeian?"'
It's amazing how modern
Jane Eyre is in its depiction of abuse and victimhood (if that's the right word for it). You can clearly see Jane struggle with her self-worth, her criticism of her appearance (which is one of the main reasons she doesn't think Mr. Rochester would be in love with her - very telling), her shame at even thinking someone would be interested in her. I also found it interesting how she ascribes all these positive aspects to Blanche Ingram without even seeing her and some in contrast to the information she got from Mrs. Fairfax (that the Ingrams are not in possession of a fortune, so why would Blanche have diamond rings or gold bracelets and satin dresses?). Jane is purposefully creating this untrue image of the perfect woman to compare herself to, something that I think a lot of women do - even today - whether it be based on advertising or social media. There's always going to be the image of the "perfect woman," and we're expected to (whether by society or our family or ourselves) get as close to that as possible in order to feel accepted and secure in our self-worth. (I'm just speaking for myself here - feel free to disagree!)
So far, this has been the story of a woman who has pulled herself up out of abuse and poverty into a position that most would consider the best she could achieve, but there's still some internal conflict - some want of
more. And is that so wrong? Clearly, it was considered to be.
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