The Joys and Foolishness of Indulgence, and the Prosperity of Restraint in Shelley and Jane's Life

As my two fellow bloggers have emphasized in their recent posts, I (obviously) find literature to be absolutely rewarding, mostly because it’s such an amazing, engaging way for me to learn. After finally completing Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, I’ve once again made many discoveries about culture, history, psychology, etc. One of the biggest discoveries I made directly has to do with my own life experience and truths; such a connection between story and reader is what makes many forms of literature appealing/successful, and, on many levels, I found this to be the case in this novel. For the sake of everyone’s time and interest, I’ll just focus on one aspect of Jane Eyre that helped me learn more about life, and particularly, more about my own life.


When in college and in my early twenties, I had a lot of freedom to experience life in a sort of indulgent, carefree way without the harsh judgment attached to such behavior. In other words, since I was still a teenager or in my early twenties, on some occasions, I was pretty much allowed to “find myself” without much consequence, or basically, to act like an idiot if no one got hurt in the process; it is natural to behave in such a way at such a time, and so, my actions weren’t taken too seriously, and were generally accepted. Since I was always a good student, responsible, and mostly sensible, my young age afforded moments of senselessness, which can also be considered moments of fun. I won’t go into detail, but most of these moments were pretty harmless, even though the very thought of them sometimes makes me cringe. As embarrassing, stupid, and crazy as some of these experiences were, I don’t regret them at all, mostly because they were fun, and a part of the process of maturation. If anything, I sometimes wonder what might have happened if I had acted MORE indulgent like some of my friends and peers did. Would I have experienced life in a deeper way? Would my life have changed in some positive, intriguing way? See, however carefree I was during this time in my life, upon reflection, I was never so carefree and indulgent to permanently plague my life (though there were some close calls; I’m not trying to be heroic or condescending here), which was definitely a conscious decision; I always had the big picture of my life in mind, and didn’t want one moment to have lasting negative effects.

Whenever I think I might have missed out on something because of my sensibility, I always remind myself of the horrible and humiliating consequences that might have resulted from extreme acts of impulsivity. In Bronte’s work, there are several times when Jane acts as such a reminder for me—she makes certain decisions that reassure the ones I’ve made in my own life. Such choices are determined by her propensity to consider the value and respect of her future; instead of being indulgent, which would be a much easier path to take, Jane restrains herself in a mature way that is extremely difficult to do during the moment of her decision-making. Two of these instances directly involve her relationship with men, and more specifically, her choice of whether or not to accept their marriage proposals, and become a wife.

Because of the novel’s first-person narration, it’s clear that Jane’s initial inclination is to attach herself to both Rochester and then St. John, regardless of the dangers that come with such acceptances—dangers that Jane is fully aware of [a life of insubordination (financial and otherwise), lovelessness (in the case of St. John), etc.]. She considers staying with Rochester (the first go-around) and being his mistress even though he has lied to her and is still married because of their strong connection—because they are soul mates. With St. John, Jane considers a loveless marriage and rough life as a missionary’s wife in India because she deeply respects St. John’s abilities, and views him with much awe. Instead of bowing to such desires, Jane is able to control her initial impulses because she contemplates the repercussions of such actions, and keeps in mind the big picture of her life. After St. John nearly persuades her to be his wife for Christ’s work, Jane reveals how her future is always at the forefront of her thoughts. She knows that a previous disagreement with St. John will eventually come back to haunt her, even if he is presently showing her much gentleness and kindness “Yet I knew all the time, if I yielded now, I should not the less be made to repent, some day, of my former rebellion. His nature was not changed by one hour of solemn prayer: it was only elevated” (357). However difficult in the moment, and despite the frustration and disappointment her refusals create in these two men, Jane’s restraint eventually pays off in the end (I won’t spoil it for readers who have not read the novel).

So, after reading this work of literature (which I mostly enjoyed and did not find depressing at all, counter to its dominant reputation) and considering this particular subject, I am more reassured about aspects of my own life. Don’t get me wrong: thankfully, my life contains many moments of indulgence and fun, but like Jane, I am careful about the degree of such indulgence, and make sure they don’t negatively scar my future. Some may think such a life is ultimately dull, but I don’t think so; I think if people generally considered the impact of extreme bouts of impulsive pleasure, and instead showed more restraint by considering the big picture, they could avoid much strife and harm in their lives.