Bertha Rochester in the Time of Medicated Deinstitutionalisation

Bromeliad pink

Charlotte Bronte was sincerely horrified when it was pointed out to her that her depiction of an insane person in Jane Eyre (1847) had been devoid of sympathy for this most terrible of human conditions. 'It is true that profound pity ought to be the only sentiment elicited by the view of such degradation,’ Bronte wrote in her mea culpa: ‘and equally true is it that I have not sufficiently dwelt on that feeling; I have erred in making horror too predominant.’ 

Whilst Charlotte Bronte may have feigned horror when it was pointed out her depiction of Bertha Rochester was devoid of sympathy, the fact is that she was not the bowels of compassion when it came to her only brother's psychiatric illness.


It galls me that a cult of personality has developed around an emotionally immature narcissist such as Charlotte.  Her depiction of Bertha Rochester in Jane Eyre troubles me less so than her role within the Bronte family as a skilled liar and manipulator.


In the modern age of medicated deinstitutionalisation, families are forced to be the primary carers of members with acute-on-chronic psychiatric disturbances with little support.  The general public tends to only hear about celebrity lunatics on their way to 5-Star rehab with a  signed contract to give an exclusive interview to Vanity Fair in hand to defray the cost.


In the time of the Brontes, opiate-derivatives such as laudanum was all that was available to calm the thought-tortured mind.  It is regrettable that Branwell is still perceived as an opium-addicted inebriate when he was nightly subjected to his father's misguided yet good-intentioned attempts at a DYI exorcism of the "demonic" impulses that Reverend Patrick Bronte was certain afflicted his only son and heir.


Much is made of the oppressed and restricted roles of women in the 19th century, yet how much freedom from cultural tradition and societal expectation did an only son with three unmarried sisters and an aged father really have?  How much did Charlotte, Emily and Anne contribute to the deterioration of their only brother's psychological wellbeing through not seeking out and acquiring husbands?  Was Branwell the first documented victim to fall under the bustle of emergent pre-First Wave feminist insensibilities?


For my part, I have always questioned why Charlotte Bronte "blinded" the love interest of her protagonist, Jane Eyre: such a violent act and disturbingly controlling.  Sister Lottie was quite a nasty piece of work.