Taking on a retelling is always daunting. Will people who loved the original follow you on this familiar-but-new path? Will people who’ve never read or listened to the original still get a satisfying experience out of this version? And, maybe most importantly, does this story even need a fresh spin?
I was thinking all these things when I sat down to write , my modern take on I studied the novel in college, then again in grad school, and even taught it back when I was a high school English teacher. To say I was familiar with Jane, Rochester, and poor Bertha was an understatement. But as I reread the novel for what felt like the millionth time in preparation for working on The Wife Upstairs, I realized that the real joy in doing a retelling is that you can pick and choose what you want to use from the novel and leave the rest behind. With that in mind, I started reading with a closer eye, trying to decide which parts I just couldn’t do without. Here are my five must-have elements of Jane Eyre (and the one bit I knew I wasn’t using!).
1. Thornfield
A Gothic is only as creepy as the cursed house usually found at its center. Think or . Thornfield, Rochester’s mansion, is both a house and a prison in Jane Eyre, and there was no way I wasn’t going to use it as a setting in The Wife Upstairs. Transformed into Thornfield Estates, an affluent neighborhood in Birmingham, Alabama, my Thornfield might be a little newer and shinier, but there’s still rot at the core.
2. Blanche Ingram
In Jane Eyre, Blanche is a potential wife for Rochester, set up to make Jane jealous and also something of a foil for Jane. I knew I wanted some version of this character in my book, too, but I found it was more fun to pit her against Bertha “Bea” Rochester than Jane. Bringing Blanche in earlier and setting her up as Bea’s best friend let me explore the idea of toxic female friendships: of the ways in which two women can love each other but still be deeply and unhealthily competitive.
3. Jane’s childhood
Jane grows up as an orphan, raised first by her aunt, Mrs. Reed, and then eventually sent off to Lowood School. These experiences are formative for Jane, contributing both to her isolation and her growing sense of self. There’s no doubt that it’s a rough childhood, but I think it can feel a little distant, a little sanitized, to the modern reader. In envisioning a modern Jane, I wanted to dive in a little more to what that kind of childhood might look like now, how it would affect a 21st century Jane. As a result, my Jane is a little spikier, a little more mercenary, than her Victorian counterpart.
