Of course, in the novel, Jane's very vivid and perceptive interior life balances out against Rochester's greater physicality. And since Jane is the protagonist, I was watching the story as filtered through her sensibility.
But, what if I stopped doing that?
Oh my god, does that completely change the whole thing. Almost beyond recognition. I mean, if you don't adopt Jane's viewpoint, what do you have? You have Edward Rochester, starring in his own version of I've Got A Secret, with Jane in the supporting role of World's Worst Amateur Detective Ever. I mean, really--it doesn't take a Nancy Drew to figure out something weird is going on in that house. Doctor Watson would sniff out a mystery here. For heaven's sake, even Scooby Doo would have more awareness of what was going on than Jane does.
Consider her first night at Thornfield--as represented on stage, Mrs. Fairfax leads Jane to her room.
Mrs. Fairfax: I've put you near the main landing. Right here, next to this door--the only functioning piece of architecture on the entire stage.
Jane: What is that noise?
Mrs. Fairfax: Oh, um, well. . . um. . .oh, look! Over there! Is that the Winged Nike of Samothrace?
Jane: Where?!?!
Mrs. Fairfax: Oh, sorry. I guess it wasn't. My mistake. Well, changing the subject, here is your room. There is no door, or wall, or anything here to demarcate it, of course. There is just that door. Over there. The one that we aren't talking about.
Jane: Thank you. I'm sure this imaginary room will be quite comfortable. It has a lovely view of that door over there.
Mrs. Fairfax: What door? Oh, ha ha ha, that door? That door? Oh, yes, a, um lovely view. It's really a very nice looking door, isn't it.
Mrs. Fairfax: Well, good night Jane. Have lovely doors. . .I mean dreams.
Jane: Oh, Mrs. Fairfax? One more thing?
Mrs. Fairfax: Are you going to ask me about the door?
Jane: The door?
Mrs. Fairfax: Yes. Are you going to ask me about that door over there, the one that we keep shut and locked and no body goes there except Grace Poole, whom I am not going to talk about either except to say that perhaps she needs to be reminded about the noise? That noise that I am not hearing coming from behind that door that I don't notice or think about at all? Is that what you are going to ask me?
Jane: No, I was going to ask you something completely unrelated, because I have come to this place thinking you were the owner, which you are not, thinking I was going to be a governess for a girl whom I have not met nor seen any hint of. I have since learned that the house actually is owned by somebody else. What is his name?
Mrs. Fairfax: Oh. That would be Mr. Rochester. He never comes here either, so you probably won't ever see him. I'm off to bed, Jane, in a different part of the house where all the other people who presumably work here are also hiding. Somewhere far away from this door, that is just like all the other doors we would have in this house, if we had any doors or walls or anything, except that this door we keep locked. All the time. Except when we don't. Which is never. Mostly.
Later, after Jane has saved Mr. Rochester, by dousing the fire set on his bed, he questions her.
Mr. Rochester: So, Jane. Now that I'm not burned alive in my bed, what made you come and save me?
Jane: I heard a noise, sir.
Mr. Rochester: A noise? What kind of noise? A noise that sounded like a crazy person escaping from behind a locked door? One that sounded like the mad cackling of a deranged mind, bent on homicide? Did you hear a cracked and rarely used voice shrieking "I will get you, Edward Rochester, and your little dog too?"
Jane: I cannot describe the noise, sir.
Mr. Rochester: Did you happen to look out your door and see anything? Anything that might look like someone with wildly tangled hair that has not been brushed for a decade or more, wearing nothing but the least confining of nightgown, because she is so insane that nothing more can be done for her? Did you see the person who haunts my life by her mere existence--and existence that means nothing to her, since she is so mad that she does not know if she is alive or dead? That person who has ruined my life, who keeps me from any happiness, who has made this house a prison to me so that I never come here?
Jane: No, sir. I saw nothing.
Mr. Rochester: Oh, what a relief! Because other than myself, Mrs. Fairfax, the man who shows up later to have his ear nearly bitten off, and the entire staff of Thornfield, nobody knows about "Grace Poole." So. Don't tell anybody what happened tonight. Nothing to see here. Nothing happened here. Everything is just fine!
It defies all logic. When Mason shows up from Jamaica, he and Rochester come tumbling out of that Door That Is Exactly Normal Like Any Other Door, Mason hysterical and bleeding. Rochester hushes him up, leaves Jane to watch over him until the doctor comes, and says, very slyly and subtly, so no one suspects anything:
"Do not say a word to Jane, Mason. Not a word. I know she bit you, but we aren't going to talk about it. Jane--do not ask Mr. Mason what happened here, or how he got bitten. Or who bit him. Don't ask him anything at all. I'm going to leave you two alone here, in the dark, right beside this Door That Is Not Unusual In Any Way and go get the doctor. I will be back in about three hours. Stay here in the dark, with no way to tend to these wounds, and do not talk to each other until I get back and can hear anything you say. I won't even get any servants to bring you any tea, or more light or anything. Just lie there and bleed quietly, Mason. And did I mention? Don't talk."
Ah well. The Guthrie run is over, and the world is safe from. . .
Oh no! They didn't!
They did!
Jane Eyre is coming back for a short run next spring. Quickly! Run out and don't buy your tickets! You don't want to miss the chance to miss this production!
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