Review of John Eyre—Monsters in the Attic

How many times can one Gothic novel be retold? If that novel is Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre—a story that spawned other great classics like Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca and served as a blueprint for the entire genre of mid-century Gothic romance pulps—I think its generative capabilities are endless. One of the latest authors to put her own spin on Jane Eyre  is Mimi Matthews, with John Eyre: A Tale of Darkness and Shadow, coming out tomorrow, July 20. From the title, you might guess that this is a gender-swapped retelling, but it’s actually much more than that: John Eyre uses the familiar beats of Brontë’s classic (along with elements from a few other Gothic novels) to tell an entirely different story. I am thrilled to have been invited to participate in the official blog tour for this book’s release, because I need more friends to geek out about this charming and clever reimagining with!

After his previous teaching post ends in tragedy, John Eyre, a bachelor of modest means, accepts the offer of a tutoring position for two young boys on a Yorkshire estate called Thornfield Hall. When he arrives, John is surprised to discover that the boys are foreign and seemingly mute. And far from being the sons of some lord, they are the newly acquired wards of the mysterious widow Mrs. Rochester. Despite these challenges, John comes to care deeply for his charges—and even more deeply for his formidable employer. But strange warning signs keep him from feeling entirely at home in his new position: unnatural mist and violent storms plague the estate, disconcerting visions of ghosts and beasts appear on the moors, and demonic-sounding laughter echoes from a locked room in the attic. Meanwhile, Bertha Rochester’s past is slowly revealed through a series of letters and journal entries that document the progression of her relationship with Edward Rochester, a man she met while traveling abroad sixteen months before. Drawn in by his preternatural charm, Bertha soon found herself entirely under the power of a husband more monster than man. Can she find happiness again with the earnest young tutor? Or will the secrets of her past continue to control her life?

I’ll try not to spoil too much, but genre-savvy readers will be quick to pick up on familiar elements in the story that come not from Jane Eyre but from another Gothic classic: Dracula. These elements fit surprisingly well into the Jane Eyre-based plot. While Brontë’s novel was written half a decade before Stoker’s masterpiece, it was already playing with elements of the burgeoning vampire genre. As Matthews notes in the author’s note to John Eyre, there are several allusions to supernatural creatures in Brontë’s book, including specific references to vampires and blood-sucking monsters. It’s not such a far leap to make these elements literal and expand upon them. This addition of the supernatural adds layers of new meaning to story beats that on the surface precisely resemble moments from Jane Eyre. I was particularly impressed by Matthews’ twist on the fire in the bedroom scene. But more subtle than the elements clearly borrowed from Dracula are aspects of the plot that more closely resemble du Maurier’s Rebecca—which was, itself, a sort of reimagining of Jane Eyre. Like Maxim de Winter, the love interest in John Eyre is known to have been previously married, and the thought of Bertha’s first spouse haunts John like Rebecca haunts du Maurier’s narrator. John imagines a great love between Bertha and the aristocratic Edward that he cannot possibly live up to—but of course John’s assumptions are far off-base.  

And, of course, we must discuss the gender-swapping that the title of John Eyre puts front and center. In the hands of a lesser author, swapping the genders of Eyre and Rochester could have been just a cheap gimmick. But Matthews understands that changing Mr. Rochester to Mrs. Rochester fundamentally alters the power dynamics and overall tone of the story. Matthews’ Bertha Rochester is ultimately a far more sympathetic character than Brontë’s Edward Rochester. While she cuts a formidable figure and certainly holds power over John in her role as his employer and a member of the wealthy upper class, that power is undercut by the role of women in Victorian society. No matter their initial differences in status, any man who marries Bertha will automatically have full legal and financial power over her. This is why Matthews could not simply replicate the story of the wife in the attic—a mixed-race and mentally ill woman whose only power was in her transgressiveness and the way it might humiliate Rochester. Instead, Bertha is genuinely the victim in her first marriage, and it takes all her daring and ingenuity to claw her way back to a semblance of power. With this theme in mind, Matthews makes sure to stress throughout the story that both Bertha and John fervently wish for their relationship to be one of equal partners. In this way, I found the love story in John Eyre to actually be more satisfying than the original. 

If you’re a fan of Jane Eyre, Dracula, or Rebecca—or just love a good Gothic romance—you don’t want to miss John Eyre! You can find it on shelves tomorrow at your favorite local retailer, or preorder it now and support The Gothic Library in the process using this Bookshop.org affiliate link. Once you’ve read it, be sure to come back and let me know your thoughts in the comments!