The other Rochester woman

The French novelist and journalist Lilia Hassaine has something of a reputation as a feminist. Moreover, she is not afraid to denounce all kinds of racism, sometimes using far-fetched arguments. 

So, when found out that Hassaine had written a novel inspired by the character of Bertha Mason — the "madwoman in the attic" from Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre — I feared the worst. I must now admit that my fears about Hassaine's JE were entirely unfounded: I can't recommend this novel highly enough. 

In Jane Eyre, Bertha Mason is Edward Rochester’s first wife; he marries Bertha for her money in the West Indies but later claims she descended into violent madness, hiding her away on the third floor of Thornfield Hall under the care of a nurse, Grace Poole. 

Things play out somewhat differently in Lilia Hassaine’s novel. For starters, Bertha is actually named Antoinette Cosway; she is a Creole woman with a Creole-Martinican mother and a British father — though he dies young. Her father’s role is taken over by another Briton, Jason Mason, who raises Antoinette alongside her brother Pierre and his own son, Richard. Mason is a planter — the owner of a slave plantation — though he treats his slaves quite humanely. He raises Antoinette with great love and dignity. 

The meeting between Edward Fairfax Rochester and Antoinette initially appears to be love at first sight, but nothing could be further from the truth. Gradually, her marriage to the possessive, jealous, manipulative, and perpetually cash-strapped Edward becomes a true nightmare for Antoinette, especially once the couple settles in Yorkshire — at Thornfield. 

Lilia Hassaine
Photo F. Mantovani © Éditions Gallimard

One element of this nightmare is Antoinette’s former fiancé, Samuel Lockhart, who had vanished without a trace the day after their engagement. He apparently resurfaces after Antoinette marries Edward, pressuring Rochester for financial compensation for the failed engagement. Rochester attempts to raise the funds — drawing on Antoinette’s dowry and approaching her father, Jason Mason — but, as the novel reveals, entirely different and deeply unscrupulous motives are at work in Rochester’s mind ... 

Rochester’s pathological jealousy constitutes the second part of Antoinette’s nightmare. He forces her to adopt the name Bertha and barely allows her to leave Thornfield, while he himself frequently travels. Over the course of the novel, we also meet several of Rochester’s mistresses, including a certain Miss Ingram and Céline Varens, a French ballet dancer. And speaking about Mademoiselle Varens; her daughter Adèle — whom we know as Jane’s pupil from Jane Eyre — is only mentioned at the end of Hassaine’s book; and let’s admit it: Who among us hasn't imagined that Adèle might actually be Edward Rochester’s daughter? 

Antoinette/Bertha also gives birth to a son, called Pierre, but the child is taken away from her by Rochester and ends up in the hands of another of his mistresses, the maid Georgina. After all, Rochester is not merely an unfaithful husband who keeps his wife under his thumb — both psychologically and physically — but also an expert at manipulating friends, acquaintances, and staff ... 

It gradually emerges that Antoinette’s ex-fiancé has been dead for quite some time and that the entire financial blackmail scheme allegedly hatched by this fiancé was indeed orchestrated by Rochester himself, who turns his entire entourage against Bertha. It all becomes too much for Bertha. 

JE by Lilia Hassaine

Today we would call her illness a depression or a burn out, but Rochester has her declared insane and locks her away. From her attic, she watches as Rochester pursues Miss Ingram and seeks to marry Jane Eyre. So, be warned dear reader: there is no happy ending in this novel — though one wouldn't expect one, either. 

For me, JE ties in perfectly with Jane Eyre. There is a genuine continuity between them. Many characters appear in both novels, though often in a different light. For instance, in JE, Grace Poole plays an evil role as the alcohol-addicted nurse who keeps Antoinette confined in the attic; Richard Mason, too, is portrayed in a far less favorable light in Hassaine’s novel. Rochester himself is depicted by Hassaine as an insatiable manipulative fraudster with several mistresses. While this is also true in Charlotte Brontë’s novel — Rochester conceals from Jane the fact that he is already married, for example — both of them seem to find ultimately perfect marital bliss at the end — “reader, I married him” — or is this just because Rochester is disabled and therefore weakened? 

Hassaine writes so convincingly that one could be forgiven for mistaking the story for actual history rather than pure fiction; she grounds her narrative in historical details and dates. As a feminist, Hassaine naturally focuses on Antoinette/Bertha’s powerlessness in the face of her manipulative husband. 

The issue of slavery is also addressed, yet Antoinette’s personal story always remains the priority. Hassaine also injects great suspense into the novel with a number of unexpected twists. Pitting her characters against Charlotte Brontë’s creates a powerful dynamic within the book. 

Not to be missed indeed, and I would not be surprised to see it translated into English very soon. 

 Johan Hellinx