Jane's Inner Self

Passage:

"Anybody may blame me who likes, when I add further, that, now and then, when I took a walk by myself in the grounds; when I went down to the gates and looked through them along the road; or when, while Adele played with her nurse, and Mrs Fairfax made jellies in the storeroom, I climbed the three staircases, raised the trap-door of the attic, and having reach the leads, looked out afar over sequestered field and hill, and along dim sky-line: that then I longed for a power of vision which might overpass that limit; which might reach the busy world, towns, regions full of life I had heard of but never seen: that then I desired more practical experience than I possessed; more of intercourse with my kind, of acquaintance with variety of character, than was here within my reach. I valued what was good in Mrs Fairfax, and what was good in Adele; but I believed in the existence of other and more vivid kinds of goodness, and what I believed in I wished to behold." (Page 103-104)

Jane Eyre has always desired more than what she has in her life; she is a girl with goals and desires. However, each time she is given a new opportunity, she is hesitant to enjoy it or take full advantage of the opportunities it grants her. In this passage, she is working at Thornfield Hall with Adele, teaching her and playing with her, while Mrs Fairfax manages the house and other staff is also present. She is rather young here, a young adult who is trying to move on from school and work successfully. This passage tells a lot of Jane's character and personality through her feelings and thoughts that she shares. Jane expresses her longing for more adventure and the curiosity that pains her relating to the world outside the house walls that she has yet to see.
Right away, Jane acknowledges that many people around her don't always like or agree with her opinions and decisions by stating, "anybody may blame me who likes," showing that she is indifferent to the opinions that others may have of her but knows these negative reactions will come. This speaks to Jane's character in that she is independent and does not get affected by what others say about her. She is a young woman that had to grown up quickly and without any family support, which is not a simple task. In addition, it demonstrates that Jane does not need or desire the approval of others. Instead, Jane desires the approval of herself.
As the passage continues, Jane mentions the time she spends alone and how it affects her. She states that this alone time allows her to think of what may lie outside of the property lines and in the real world that she yearns so strongly to see and be a part of. Jane proclaims that she "longed for a power of vision which might overpass the limit," implying that she desired to achieve more and make a larger impact with her life than she was while staying with Adele. She continues the longing for power with dreaming of it, "reach[ing] the busy world, towns, regions full of life I had heard of but never seen," implying that all she wanted could be achieved outside of Thornfield Hall; the house was what was restricting her goals of life. Jane simply desired what she couldn't have or didn't believe she could have while working with Adele and being restricted to the house she shared with Mrs Fairfax, among others.
As Jane continues, she comes more realistic with her expectations and goals. She states that she "desired more practical experience than [she] possessed; more intercourse with [her] kind," implying that those she was surrounded by currently were not people she would typically make conversation with and befriend. Jane wanted simply possibilities in her life like speaking with people her age and making friends with similar interests, however, her job shielded her from making this desires possible. She continues by acknowledging that Mrs Fairfax was a good and kind women, as was young Adele. However, they were not the best the world had to offer Jane, she felt. Jane simply desired better people and opportunities and much more of them to be present around her.
This passage helps to develop Jane's character and further demonstrate her desires and goals for life. She is conveyed as a young woman who seeks out adventure and is always looking for new and better opportunities. She acknowledges what she has, however, she also acknowledges that she wants and needs to be better eventually in her life. While making her a strong and independent character, this passage also shows Jane as a young girl who hasn't been privileged enough to venture far outside of her restricted places and see the world for what it is. This passage is certainly beneficial in conveying Jane's inner wants and hopes and allows for them to be carried on throughout the novel.

Opposing Reactions to Punishment

“On reaching the bed-room, we heard the voice of Miss Scatcherd: she was examining drawers; she had just pulled Helen Burns’s, and when we entered Helen was greeted with a sharp reprimand, and told that to-morrow she should have half a dozen of untidily folded articles pinned to her shoulder.

‘My things were indeed in shameful disorder,’ murmured Helen to me, in a low voice: ‘I intended to have arranged them, but I forgot.’

Next morning, Miss Scatcherd wrote in conspicuous characters on a piece of paste-board the word ‘Slattern,’ and bound it like a phylactery round Helen’s large, mild, intelligent, and benign-looking forehead. She wore it till evening, patient, unresentful, regarding it as a deserved punishment. The moment Miss Scatchered withdrew after afternoon-school, I ran to Helen, tore it off, and thrust it into the fire: the fury of which she was incapable had been burning in my soul all day, and tears, hot and large, had continually been scalding my cheek; for the spectacle of her sad resignation gave me an intolerable pain at the heart.” (page 70)

Prior to meeting Helen, Jane had never had a companion near her age. When they do meet, Helen serves almost as guidance toward the behavior Jane is expected to exhibit at Lowood, compliant, intelligent, and pious. This passage demonstrates the difference in behavior and thought between the two characters, and how these differences relate to the belief of afterlife and judgment after death.

When Helen is reprimanded for folding her clothes in an unsuitable style she doesn’t try to fight her punishment, instead she is accepting and even admits to her mistake. Helen’s punishment also contains religious attributes further expressing Helen’s position as a holy figure in Jane’s life. The idea of public ridicule is reminiscent of the idea of martyrs who are given punishment and don’t at against it, instead silently accepting knowing that their suffering can eventually lead to change. The diction Bronte uses also also aids in Helen’s development. In describing the sign, she says the teacher “bound it like a phylactery round Helen’s large, mild, intelligent, and benign-looking forehead.” A phylactery being something used in worship instantly connects Helen’s sign to something more powerful.

Jane’s description of her anger is telling her balance with faith. In previous discussions with Mr. Brocklehurst she had mentioned her idea of the afterlife as a place of fire, and a place she was possibly destined. In describing her anger Bronte says“ the fury of which [Helen] was incapable had been burning in my soul all day, and tears, hot and large, had continually been scalding my cheek.” Jane’s soul is described as burning, possibly related to the burning of souls in the afterlife. Also, it is mentioned that Helen is incapable of such anger, showing her soul is destined for heaven. However, Jane is not an evil character. As the last sentence of the passage shows, her actions of hatred were out of her compassion for Helen, “the spectacle of her sad resignation gave me an intolerable pain at the heart.”

This passage develops Jane and Helen as the opposing outcomes in the afterlife, Helen the good, Jane the bad. By using religious imagery and words with religious connotation, Bronte is able to develop her contrasting characters through a seemingly simple life experience. Without writing a passage about death, Bronte is able to allude to it, causing an objective view on the goodness of each character’s actions.

The Poor Orphan Child

My feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary;

Long is the way, and the mountains are wild;

Soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary

Over the path of the poor orphan child.

Why did they send me so far and lonely,

Up where the moors spread and grey rocks are piled?

Men are hard-hearted, and kind angels only

Watch o’er the steps of a poor orphan child

Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing,

Clouds there are none, and clear stars beam mild,

God, in His mercy, protection is showing,

Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child.

So begins the song that Bessie sings to Jane as she recovers from her fit. The song does nothing to improve Jane’s mood, and it is not difficult to see why--the song is not a happy one. Besides being a sad song, it also tells the story of a sad life, and not just any life at that. The song directly parallels everything that happens to Jane throughout her childhood.

The first stanza calls to mind the long walks Jane took to and from church in the winter. In the frigid darkness, the students of Lowood had to walk miles every week as a part of their curriculum, making their feet sore and their limbs weary. The twilight closing also symbolizes the end of life, which many students faced as a result of the cold. Without proper health care and without any home to return to, many poor orphan children faced moonless, dreary deaths.

The second stanza is reminiscent of Mr. Brocklehurst, the most hard-hearted man portrayed thus far in the book. The school he runs is far and lonely from any other source of life, and it is strict and confining, with many students forced into cruel and unusual punishments for things that they cannot control. When he sees Jane and humiliates her in front of the entire school, she is avoided like the plague, ignored and shunned until the past fades into the past. Alone and angry, there are only kind angels watching over her steps.

Finally, the third stanza follows the path of her growing up. There is light at the end of the tunnel; the school is reformed, and after a time, she leaves for better prospects. Besides that, when students all around her are being punished and ridiculed, she is lauded and praised. When students are dying, she stays alive. Jane would not think so, as she doesn’t think much of God and religion, but many would say that, in this way, God is protecting her. As her life improves, clouds and breeze begin to fade away.

Bessie does not appear to have any sort of fortune-telling powers. She is just an aging governess with a propensity for singing sad songs to herself and to her children. However, this song in particular was sung at just the right time. As Jane listened, she was suddenly a witness to her own future, although no one--not even the readers--realized.

In the Eye of the Beholder

Passage:  (p. 11)
"He ran headlong at me: I felt him grasp my hair and my shoulder: he had closed with a desperate thing.  I really saw in him a tyrant, a murderer.  I felt a drop or two of blood from my head trickle down my neck, and was sensible of somewhat pungent suffering: these sensations for the time predominated over fear, and I received him in a frantic sort.  I don't very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me 'Rat!  Rat!' and bellowed out aloud.  Aid was near him: Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs Reed, who was gone upstairs; she now came upon the scene, followed by Bessie and her maid Abbot.  We were parted: I heard the words:-
'Dear!  dear!  What a fury to fly at Master John!'
'Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion!'
Then Mrs Reed subjoined:-
'Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there.'  Four hands were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs."


In this passage, Bronte presents Jane as an insolent ten year old who is unjustly punished for her companion's initialization of a fight.  The adults in the situation see only Jane's abuse of John, even though John was the one who was unprovoked in his hostility.  Though this seems unfair to Jane at the time, she realizes later in life that the adults acted as they saw fit.

Jane feels that she was punished for doing nothing; she was simply protecting herself, nothing more.  However, she was alone in her quest for justice. John had the upper hand; "aid was near him" (line 5), rather in between the brawlers as indiscriminate bystanders should be.  Instead, Mrs. Reed and the other adults saw only Jane and her fury.  Thus, they responded as they should in such a case- they punished Jane.  They were there only the "aid" John, both because he was greatly favored and that was simply the side they witnessed.

At the time, this infuriated Jane.  Being described as "a picture of passion" (line 9) is wholly in character for her; in whatever activity she involves herself in, Jane jumps with both feet into the matter at hand.  While at the time a horrible, nasty concept to those around her, this trait proves helpful later in life.  For instance, throwing herself into her friendship with Helen set Jane on a course for a more enriched lifestyle.  Helen taught Jane to not see the incident in such a jaded light.  Instead, by looking solely at the facts, Jane sees years later that Mrs. Reed was simply acting on what she witnessed firsthand.  Had Mrs. Reed entered the room moments before, Jane's punishment may not have been as severe and John surely would have received a slap on the hand as well.

In the end, Jane came out a better, more advanced, more gentlemanly person than John.  Years after instigating petty fights, John had not progressed much further.  He was kicked out of college, too dumb for law school, and too unmotivated to be much of anything else.  Whereas Jane went on to receive a hearty education and found meaning in her life, which is far above where the Reeds tried to tell her place in life.  This passage sets up the story for an ironic turn of events- learning that the one who was punished for the fight ended up becoming the victor in the end.

A Sense of Belonging

Passage:
   On the evening of the day on which I had seen Miss Scatcherd flog her pupil, Burns, I wandered as usual among the forms and tables and laughing groups without a companion, yet not feeling lonely: when I passed the windows, I now and then lifted a blind, and looked out; it snowed fast, a drift was already forming against the lower panes; putting my ear close to the window, I could distinguish from the gleeful tumult within, the disconsolate moan of the wind outside.
    Probably, if I had lately left a good home and kind parents, this would have been the hour when I should most keenly have regretted the separation; that wind would then have saddened my heart; this obscure chaos would have disturbed my peace! as it was, I derived from both a strange excitement, and reckless and feverish, wished the wind to howl more wildly, the gloom to deepen to darkness, and the confusion to rise to clamour. 
   Jumping over forms, and creeping under tables, I made my way to one of the fire-places; there, kneeling by the high wire fender, I found Burns, absorbed, silent, abstracted from all round her by the companionship of a book, which she read by the dim glare of the embers.

    Jane Eyre often ruminates on nature, be it the nature that surrounds her or images that she finds in a book. The images she enjoys most tend to be tempestuous: turbulent waters or, in this case, a blizzard. In these images she finds a sense of self, and she connects nature to her emotional state. In this passage, Jane comments on the weather at Lowood and her emotional reaction to it. Here, the snowstorm represents her past, and that past is overpowered by the present: the rowdy students and the opportunity for new experiences turn her indifferent to the state of the surrounding storm.
    Jane describes the snowstorm outside in an unflattering way, yet she enjoys it because she feels as if she impervious to it, it can't disturb her peace. Describing the sound of the wind as a "disconsolate moan" would usually bear a negative image, and to the reader it does. Jane has a different reaction to this, however, it stimulates excitement in her. She even wants it to grow louder, to rise to a howl. She wants the noise of the students to grow with it, and this evokes an image of nature's losing battle against the humanity of Lowood, something that Jane feels a part of.
    Because Jane feels at home at Lowood, the storm doesn't dampen her spirits, it raises them. She says that if she had left a good home and good parents, left somewhere she had liked, the wind would sadden her. Earlier in the novel, at Gateshead, she connects emotionally with images of stormy seas. This is because she was unhappy at Gateshead, and she has shifted in this passage from connecting with nature to connecting with the humans around her. She walks alone, but she doesn't feel lonely. This contrast puts her in a spirited mood, she moves with boldness around the hall, "jumping" and "creeping" as opposed to her more controlled and cautious movements at Gateshead.
    Jane's attitude towards nature's more violent moods changes significantly at Lowood. No longer does she connect with nature's intense productions, she connects instead with the people around her. This newfound world and its inhabitants excite her, and her emotions can settle on the feeling of community instead of the feelings of isolation that made her connect so strongly with nature in the past.

Reading Between the Lines

Passage (p. 46): "As yet I had spoken to no one, nor did anybody seem to take notice of me; I stood lonely enough: but to that feeling of isolation I was accustomed; it did not oppress me much. I leant against a pillar of the verandah, drew my grey mantle close about me, and, trying to forget the cold which nipped me without, and the unsatisfied hunger which gnawed me within, delivered myself up to the employment of watching and thinking. My reflections were too undefined and fragmentary to merit record: I hardly knew where I was; Gateshead and my past life seemed floated away to immeasurable distance; the present was vague and strange, and of the future I could form no conjecture."

This passage's main motif is loneliness. Jane expresses straight forward, true feeling loneliness. She admits that she "had spoken to no one", which is the reason for not making friends and contributes to being lonely. However, on the other side, Jane is "accustomed" to "that feeling of isolation" because of her time with the Reeds. That is why it does not "oppress" her. When the Reeds did not take notice of Jane, it was her time of peace, so being left alone, instead of being harassed is actually a novelty for her. Jane "[draws her] grey mantle close about [her]" and thus in a way is shielding herself from not only the cold, but from others. Wrapping the coat around herself gives a sense of self comfort she does not even know she needs. Jane has physical "unsatisfied hunger" that "gnawed [her] within", but the hunger is also metaphorical. The "unsatisfied hunger" Jane has is the hunger for emotional connections, friends, knowledge, and self peace. All of those things she needs gnaw at her. The absence of self peace is evident as her later self notes her "reflections were too undefined and fragmentary to merit record". Jane does not think her musings are worth remembering. They had no "merit" meaning she feels her thoughts are unimportant. Though Jane "hardly knew where [she] was" somehow she could mentally imagine her "past life float[ing] away" from wherever she perceived herself to be. The "immeasurable distance" implies completely forgetting it and putting everything she knows to the farthest back of her mind it can go. She wants to focus on the present, but it is "vague and strange". It is "vague" because she is unaware of how her new life works. It is "strange" because all around her girls seem to know what they are doing and always falling obediently into line. Finally, as the passage comes to an end, Jane, in an organized manner, ends her reflections on her future. "Of the future [she] could form no conjecture" because her past is gone from her now an "immeasurable distance" away and her present is too "vague" to understand. With a past and present such as that, it is understandable she is unsure of her future. The passage fits in with the rest of novel as Jane tries to come to terms with how she was treated in the past and what will become of her future. It also is important for recognizing Jane's own thoughts on her musings, and how she does not see the deep thoughtfulness of them.  

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (And You Know... Freedom)

Passage: It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquillity: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it.  Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot.  Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth.  Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags.  It is thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex.

     This passage shows a lot about Jane's character and the way she looks at the world. This passage implies that Jane has been both witness and victim to sexism and discrimination. Jane is restless and curious about life outside of her job. She lets her mind wander and uses her imagination. Jane also makes a reference that a rebellion is brewing in many women's minds. This passage shows the way Jane is feeling confined and how she wants more from life; she wants action and independence which is practically impossible for a woman at this time.
     Jane makes reference to a "silent revolt" and seems to suggest that many women are building up to a rebellion in their everyday lives. This makes a lot of sense considering the time period. The book was published in 1847, right around the time the women's suffrage movement would have started. This passage suggests that Jane may have been a suffragette although she never specifically mentions women when talking about a revolt.
     In this passage, Jane feels trapped and lonely. The audience can see how passionate Jane is through her calmer exterior. She also comments that "women are supposed to be very calm generally," however the audience knows that Jane is not actually calm. She is very emotional and angry when faced with injustice. By saying "women feel just as men feel," she shows more of her character and how she believes men and women are the same. Jane is suffering from her boredom and she discusses how men would suffer the same way. The use of phrases such as "rigid restraint" and "absolute stagnation" shows how desperate and trapped Jane feels. She even calls people who enforce gender roles "narrow-minded" and "thoughtless," showing that she believes her intellect is beyond theirs. She believes she is capable of more than people give her credit for and is angry at the injustice when people won't let her try.
      Jane had definitely fallen victim or been witness to sexism. She knows that women are condemned or laughed at for having ambitions or goals for something more than being a housewife and mother. She also knows that women are generally confined to household chores such as "making puddings and knitting stockings." Jane describes these things as if she seen them firsthand. Through these descriptions, Jane shows that she has experience with sexism and how angry it makes her.
      Jane is a passionate, independent character who is feeling trapped and confined in her current situation. This passage shows how she feels about that and the way she feels about the roles of women versus the roles of men.

The Poor Orphan Jane

Passage:

"My feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary;

Long is the way, and the mountains are wild;

Soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary

Over the path of the poor orphan child.

Why did they send me so far and so lonely,

Up where the moors spread and grey rocks are piled?

Men are hard-hearted, and kind angels only

Watch o'er the steps of the poor orphan child.

Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing,

Clouds there are none, and clear stars beam mild,

God, in his mercy, protection is showing,

Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child.

Ev'n should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing,

Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled,

Still will my Father, with promise and blessing,

Take to His bosom the poor orphan child.

There is a thought that for strength should avail me,

Though both of shelter and kindred despoiled;

Heaven is a home, and a rest will not fail me;

God is a friend to the poor orphan child" (21).

At this point in the book, Jane is recovering after her experience in the red-room. She feels hopeless, and the things that usually comfort her -- food, books, pictures, music -- hold no reassurance for her (20). A cheerful song that Bessie sings gives her a feeling of "indescribable sadness," and the melancholy song that Bessie sings next makes Jane weep (21). The song, a "doleful" ballad (21), describes the abandonment of an orphan and the mercy of God. This song reflects Jane's life perfectly, describing her life at Gateshead and foreshadowing her life at Lowood.

The song begins by telling of an orphan, alone in the wilderness at night, who has no hope and no companion. The description of the child's surroundings matches the way in which Jane often describes nature. Jane talks of the weather the day before as being "drear," with "ceaseless rain" driven by "a long and lamentable blast" of wind (8). This intensity surrounding Jane is very similar to the "wild" and "dreary" land described in the song. The narrator in the song, arguably the poor orphan child herself, is "sore" and "weary;" similarly, Jane is tired of living her difficult life, with those around her treating her cruelly or neglecting her altogether. Jane herself is an orphan, sent by her late parents to live at Gateshead, where she is abused and abandoned. The orphan in the song has also been sent to a place "so far and so lonely," where "grey rocks are piled" as formidable figures keeping the child afraid and isolated. Jane's "grey rocks" are the Reeds, who both intimidate her and impede her in her progress as a young woman by denying her the opportunities that the other children in the house have. Men, such as Mr Brocklehurst, are "hard-hearted" to Jane, keeping her from expressing herself fully and pursuing her full potential, and "kind angels only," such as Bessie, keep Jane sane and functioning. The first two verses of the song tell of Jane's life at Gateshead by comparing her experiences to those of an orphan lost alone on the moors at night.

The rest of the song describes the child's redemption and the love that God has for her, despite obstacles in her life and mistakes that she makes. Once night falls on the orphan child, the breeze becomes "distant and soft," with no clouds and "clear stars beam[ing] mild." Jane's "night" is her entrance into Lowood. It at first seems like it should be terrible, not much better than Gateshead and with similar levels of abuse; Jane soon finds, however, that it is not as harsh as she thought it would be (especially once Brocklehurst is no longer in command). She is given hope and guidance, similar to "clear stars" lighting her way. Miss Temple and Helen Burns protect Jane, as God protects the orphan child in the song, and provide her with "comfort and hope." Jane stumbles over some practices at Lowood that Jane feels are unjust, and is accused of being a liar, as the orphan child "fall[s] o'er the broken bridge passing" and "stray[s] in the marsh, by false lights beguiled." Just as the child is still welcomed by God "with promise and blessing," however, Jane is still welcomed by Miss Temple and the school, after being cleared of the accusations against her, and Jane accepts Lowood's standards for the girls there. The orphan's saving in Bessie's song shows how Jane is saved from Gateshead and from herself, by the school and the people she meets there.

Thought "both of shelter and kindred" has Jane been "despoiled" at Gateshead, she is greeted by a "home" at Lowood that saves her and gives her the opportunity to create her own life. She is the orphan child in Bessie's song, and this reflection of her own life that she sees makes her weep, even if she doesn't know quite why. As the orphan child finds safety in God, so does Jane find safety at Lowood, giving her a new perspective on her life and giving her the safety under which she can thrive.

The Holy Helen Burns

Passage: "'I am so happy, Jane; and when you hear that I am dead, you must be sure and not grieve: there is nothing to grieve about.  We all must die one day, and the illness which is removing me is not painful; it is gentle and gradual: my mind is at rest.  I have no one to regret me much: I have only a father; and he is lately married, and will not miss me.  By dying young, I shall escape great sufferings.  I had not qualities or talents to make my way very well in the world: I should have been continually at fault.'"

"'But where are you gong to, Helen ? Can you see ? Do you know ?

"'I believe; I have faith: I am going to God.'"

"'Where is God ? What is God ?'"

"'My Maker and yours; who will never destroy what he created.  I rely implicitly on his power, and confide wholly in his goodness: I count the hours till that eventful one arrives which shall restore me to him, reveal him to me.'"

The Holy Helen Burns

Through this passage, a lot is revealed about both Helen Burns and Jane Eyre as individuals.  Jane and Helen are discussing Helen's inevitable demise together, but it is evident that the two have different ideas about what happens to people after they die.  Based on the conversation, it is clear that Helen is a deeply religious, passive, and fatalistic person.  Conversely, Jane is skeptical about religion, aggressive, and does not accept anything as fate.

In the initial section, Helen is talking to Jane about how she feels about dying.  She says she is 'happy' and that her 'mind is at rest'.  By saying these things she is insinuating that she is content with the unavoidable reality that she is dying and that she is not scared about what will happen once she dies. She says that she was not born with an aptitude for any skill and, therefore, her would have been difficult and tiresome.  By saying that she had been born with no real purpose, she is claiming that the reason she is dying early is because it is fate; she is not supposed to live longer.  Helen then claims that once she dies she is going to God.  She says that she 'believes' and has 'faith'.  By making these assertions, she is  saying that she does not know where she going, but she is okay with not knowing because she trusts God.  She describes God as being 'my maker and yours' in reference to herself and Jane.  She says 'I rely implicitly on his power, and confide wholly in his goodness'.  These statements indicate that she has accepted God as the controller of fate and that she trusts his judgement.  She is not scared of God because she truly believes that no harm with come to her once she is with God because he 'will never destroy what he created'.  According to her, God has created her and, therefore, when she dies, he will do nothing but love her and protect her.

In response to Helen's proclamation of her acceptance of her fate, Jane has many questions.  She asks Helen where she is going and if she can see it.  She asks 'where' and 'what' is God.  Due to the fact that she asks all of these questions, she makes it clear that she is very skeptical.  Unlike Helen, she cannot just accept that God has a plan for her after she dies.  She cannot see God for herself and, therefore, does not feel comfortable with placing her fate solely in his hands.  To her is is preposterous that Helen would so willingly accept her fate without knowing exactly where she was going and what was going to happen to her.  By asking Helen all of there interrogative questions, she show her natural aggression.  She demands answers to her questions and when she does not have answers she is not satisfied.  In this way, she and Helen are very much different.

Based on the fact that the two girls are so different, it makes sense that they are friends and this passage is a perfect example of their clashing personalities.  They each bring something different to the table which enables them to learn from each other.  Helen's ability to accept things as fate is foreign to Jane which makes Jane think about and question the world around her.  Helen accepts the world as it is and Jane must have an explanation for it all.

The Formation

A hush and a blush wind their way through the trees with the breeze.  The gently winding whisper of air kisses cheeks, trunks, and the bubbling creek running along the forest floor.  I listen closely to the bend and break of boughs and branches reaching forevermore towards the shining sun.  I pause to soak in the radiant rays filtering through the listless leaves.  Then, once in utter bliss, I continue course through the oak and pine.  My feet, shrouded in tattered high-top sneakers, crunch satisfyingly on the carpet of dead brown foliage.

    This is how that day started.  Exactly the same as every other walk home from school.  Granted, I usually go the shorter way, but today is unlike any other day.  Today is especially near and dear to me.  He is not going to ruin the day for me.  What happened yesterday in the woods was a warning for tomorrow.  Today is the day for rejoicing, because tomorrow is coming.  Tomorrow brings reality.  Tomorrow is the day the world ends.  Tomorrow is the day The Form arrives for good.

    Brown pine needles, soft from rain and dew, blanket the slim trail meandering through the trees and undergrowth.  The carpet lined with unfurling green ferns rolls out before me, leading the path around roots and rocks.  I follow, thinking it knows something of which I am wondrously unaware.  Whether or not this feeling is founded upon truth will be answered when the trail ends- on a dirt road upon which noisy, glistening cars bump along.

    High in the canopy above, a solitary robin red-breast breaks the silence with its lilting song. Squirrels and chipmunks scatter in the branches.  They chatter to each other in languages unbeknownst to mere mortals like me.  They know what is coming.  They are prepared and welcome the change.  The death of all humankind means nothing to those who will benefit from its demise.  He will make sure of it.

    Down the creek, squeals of delighted children ring around branch forts and fairy houses.  Their eyes, minds, spirits, and arms expand wide open while singing silly songs to one another.  Shouts of glee bounce off rocks and leap from stone to stone.  These sounds drift toward you as if from a kingdom high in the heavens.  These sounds meld harmoniously with birdsong and wind.  These sounds are what dreams float wistfully upon, but soon they will be no more.  Little do they know the world is about to end.

    There is no hate inside this bubble.  No one hurls insults; no hurricane arrives in its destructive path.  The thick oaks, droopy pines, and white birches stand erect in their rooted places.  Breathe in the tranquility of the canopy above and release the tension of what came before this moment.  Let go of what came before the blowing and sighing of the wind.  Unfortunately, The Form does not see this as so.  All The Form sees is what is to become of mankind.  

    Outside the bubble, however, lies deception and deceit.  People throw others under the bus to get ahead, or lie to make someone else think a certain way.  This is a cruel world we live in.  This is the cruel world The Form sees.  This cruel world is about to change.  This cruel world is about to change, for better or for worse.  This will all be history in no time at all.  The Form will make sure of it; The Form has plans for humanity.  Plans that involve pain before reaching pleasure.  Plans that will take more than give, and benefit The Form above all else.

    The inevitability of death looms like a hostile warship over a bustling city.  As I step onto the white wraparound porch of my house, a shadow falls over the neighborhood.  Looking up, I see a sight no human has seen before.  The Form is here.  The time has come.  The beginning of the end has arrived.  Everyone must atone for their sins and start anew.  I sigh and open the door, welcoming the musty air and inevitable fate.

    The Form is waiting for me inside.  I am not at all surprised The Form knows where I live; I was found on the path to school, so of course The Form knows all my other habits.  The Form has funny intuition and habits in that way; The Form always knows.  However, I am surprised by The Form’s form.  Before me stands all the people I have hurt in my lifetime.  I face my mistakes, embracing each and coming to terms with my demise.  This is what The Form wants.  This is truly the end for me, but hopefully not for humanity.  The Form can save them.

Letters to Eternity

The two sat at the dinner table, which had been a fiftieth-anniversary gift from June’s sister. Made of dark cherry wood, it matched the cabinets in the kitchen and complimented the deep green upholstery on the couch in the den. The silence of the fields and the forest was beyond their walls.

Arthur and June sat side by side, very close, their chairs turned slightly towards each other. They had cooked dinner tonight as they always had: together, with some soft singer crooning at them from the turntable in the corner, with soup bubbling on the stovetop and bread rising on top of the fireplace and potatoes roasting in the oven. Arthur liked to make precise calculations and measurements when he cooked, following recipes exactly and using his kitchen scale that weighed everything in grams. June preferred spontaneity, piling ingredients into the pot and stirring haphazardly, and using unprecedented amounts of salt and pepper.

“June, stop!”

“What?”

“June, you can’t put that in yet, I haven’t measured it-- June!”

“It was the right amount, honey, I promise--”

“Well, at the very least, will you please measure the salt out into a teaspoon?”
“Don’t you trust that my hands are clean?”

Arthur covers his eyes with an oven mitt. “Oh my god, I can’t watch.”

June kisses him, grinning, then turns and steals a slice of carrot from a pile that waits patiently on the tray of the kitchen scale.

They dance together to the music as they cook.

The kitchen was clean. They had only made enough food for the two of them, for one night. That was all they needed, for the mornings, which had been coming for them every day of their sixty-four years together, would forget them altogether tomorrow.

A mortar and pestle, bought by Arthur (“Arthur, when will we ever use a mortar and pestle?” “Well, I don’t know, but we may want it at some point. And it’s such a lovely color!” “Good lord.”) at a craft fair in Vermont in the ‘90s, was the only thing that remained on the countertop. The orange bottle had been thrown in the trash after it’s contents had been crushed and added to the soup.

June and Arthur talked. They’d forgotten much, over the years, and their bodies were crumpled under time’s weight, but they remembered their first meeting and they remembered their wedding and, most of all, they remembered their love.

June exits out the stage door, bag over her shoulder and makeup still shining on her face under layers of dried sweat. A man approaches shyly as she walks away, but he speeds up his steps, almost hopping down the alley, to call out to her.

“Excuse me? Miss Soto?”

She turns, surprised.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted to tell you that you were the best up there. I mean, I don’t really know anything about ballet, but I think you were the best. The most emotion. You looked like you were feeling instead of just dancing. It was beautiful.”

She stares, surprised. “Um, thank you.”

He looks at her, nervous and awkward, and then suddenly starts and pulls his backpack from his shoulders. “I have these for you too. I forgot.”

A bouquet of daisies.

“I came to see the ballet last week and I saw you and I. . . Well, I only got the nerve to talk to you tonight, and I brought you these because, well, it’s what you do for performers and I also wanted to know if you’d go out to dinner with me?”

They are in bed.

She presses her fingertips to the tissue paper skin above his cheekbones, next to his eyes. There are webs of wrinkles now, and she lightly traces a trail through these cracks with her fingernail.

When she smiles, he taps her teeth with his own fingernail. She has small teeth, which he frequently calls pearls.

She sneaks her hand into his armpit and tickles him until he shrieks and they fall into each other laughing.

“What is your favorite smell from your childhood?”

“My favorite smell?”

“Yeah.”

“My mother’s pointe shoes, when they were new and stiff and shiny. She would sit on her bed and sew the ribbons on, and she let me hit them with books to break them in for her. And they smelled like pointe shoe, I don’t know how to describe it. Satin and glue and cardboard, put together to make something painful and beautiful.”

“June?”

“Mm?”

“You know how much I love you, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, you fool, I married you!”

Some time passes.

“You know, I love you too.”

June squeezed Arthur’s knee under the table. Her hands shook from age, not from fear.

“Are you ready?”

“If I’m not ready now, I’ll never be ready for the next stroke.”

“Fair enough.”

“And we’ll have a few hours.”

“Probably until nine tonight.”

“And we can just fall asleep.”

“Together.”

“All right. I’m ready.”

They started to eat.

They sit at the counter, not looking at each other. The sound of the city roars beyond their walls, but there is silence in the apartment. Words have been exhausted, expressions have been set in stone.

Minutes or hours later, June leans into Arthur’s shoulder and starts to cry. He holds her and cries too.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

A hospital pillow cushions Arthur’s head. Blankets and a robe shroud his bent frame; an IV tube is buried in the skin of his arm. June holds his hand to her lips, her own hands clasped around his in prayer.

She later learns that he will have no lasting brain damage, and she cries of relief for hours. She never lets go of his hand.

He has another stroke four years later, and another the year after that. He slowly begins to show signs of deterioration.

Both of June’s knees and one of her hips are replaced while she is in her seventies -- ballet had treated her roughly.

They finished the meal. They had decided beforehand to be joyful and grateful on this night, so they laughed and talked and kissed with mouths full of asparagus and soup. They held the last sixty-four years between them like the moon is held between the earth and the sun.

Before they retired to their room, they pulled a shoebox from the top of one of their bookshelves and brought it with them into bed. Inside were the letters that they had written back and forth, when June went on a two-year tour across the country with her company. The envelopes were yellowed, some with hearts drawn in the corners or a note scrawled along the edge of the flap. Each letter itself was nearly torn where it had been folded for so long, but the ink was dark and legible, and Arthur and June pulled them out and read pieces aloud to each other, smiling at poignancy or laughing at dramaticism.

When had read two years worth of their lives, they replaced the letters in the box and took pen and paper from the drawer of the nightstand. June wrote, for Arthur’s hands shook more than hers, and they left the letter for their loved ones to find.

They made love, drowsy and lightheaded, with no concern for orgasm or heat. They simply sought to be as close to the other as possible, and held each other in any way that their tired bodies would allow.

When they had finished, they remained close, naked in the center of the bed with the bedclothes retired underneath their sagging and shelled frames. Judith’s cheek was pressed to Arthur’s chest; she listened to his feeble heart as she had a million years ago, and she felt no regret or doubt. Arthur kissed the top of her head. She wriggled up to him so that they were facing one another, lying on their sides.

She kissed him.

“Here’s to hoping that eternity exists, my love.”

“It does for us, Junie. I believe that it does for us.”

And they fell asleep, foreheads pressed together, final breaths mingling in the space between their lips.