"Come Baby find me,
Come Baby remind me
Of where I once begun;
Come Baby show me,
Show me you know me,
Tell me you're the one....
It's like my whole life never happened
When I'm with you, as if I've never had a thought;
I know this dream It might be crazy,
But it's the only one I've got...."

(Bob Dylan, "Emotionally Yours")

     Each of us carries within us the seed of a unique plant. When circumstances conspire to caringly nourish that seed in the manner most appropriate to its true nature-- circumstances which, sadly, are as rare as they are fortunate--the germ of our original selves is likely to flourish. When, however, this tender seed receives attention which is insufficient or antithetical to its essential inclination, growth is inevitably blighted in some way. Weaker or more sensitive seedlings may wither outright; others will be irreparably stunted. Stronger plants may yet grow to imposing heights, but they will be bent and twisted at the places where their needs were unmet, and may well feel eternally compelled to somehow loosen the knot of those deforming deprivations, so as to come closer to their originally intended shapes: Jane Eyre and Rochester are two such plants; driven by an indomitable will to find and follow their essential selves, they discover in each other a vital key to the realization of that end.
     As every conscientious parent knows, a child needs both roots--love and security--and wings--belief in, and encouragement of, his autonomy--in order to mature. While gifted with the latter--the drive for self-realization previously mentioned--Jane and Rochester have been severely deprived of the foundation of the former. They are both outsiders. The identities they have succeeded in forging for themselves thus have a quality of rare integrity, for they primarily have come from within, not from the outer prompting to please and emulate others. At the same time, these characters lack the sense of security and connectedness which is the vital prop of such gifts. When the two meet, that "mysterious chemistry [which] usually links partners who are virtually psychological twins" (Napier and Whitaker, The Family Crucible, p. 116) enables them to quickly recognize their kinship, the great strength and intense neediness both share. The bond forged between them serves as a dual link for both--back to the sense of belonging which both lacked In their most impressionable years, and forward to the recognition and realization of their individual true selves.
     That one must frequently go back in order to move ahead is a principle well known in both religion and psychology. In Judaism, the word teshavah means both repentance and return. Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, an early nineteenth century sage, stresses the theme of "descents" and "ascents": Each time one wishes to rise to a new stage of spiritual development, one is generally forced to descend first, in order to reclaim the "lost sparks" of potential holiness buried in the "excrement" of prior confusion and misdeeds (Nachman of Breslov, M'Shivath Hefesh). The radical psychotherapist R. D. Laing calls this process "regression" and "progression": If the schizophrenic wishes to spend hours staring at a blank wall, well, then he should be encouraged to do so; he will eventually break through; after all, when Zen monks do it it's called the search for enlightenment (R. D, Laing, The Voice of Experience).
     In many ways, Jane appears to be further advanced than Rochester in this inner work of regression/progression. In part, this may be due to the early spiritual guidance of the saintly Helen Burns. We see evidence of Jane's increased maturity and compassion in the objective, forgiving way she re-encounters, and masters, those demons of her childhood, the Reeds. Jane has apparently come far in healing the wounds of her old bitterness and anger; this letting go of old grievances is essential if she is to move on and grow. Other events and characters in this novel similarly test Jane's ability to confront situations reminiscent of childhood conflicts, where she must weather a threatened loss of self in order to emerge with that self chastened, strengthened and renewed. During the three days she spends homeless and hungry after fleeing from Rochester, she re-experiences the utter aloneness and rootlessness of her early years yet retains her faith in G-d's will; rescued by the Rivers family, she is rewarded by Providence with the elevating discovery of a true kinship--in blood as well as spirit such as she has always longed for but never before known.
     Her relationships with both Rochester and St. John Rivers involve Jane in the regression of sexual self- surrender, threatening the immersion of her hard-won identity in theirs. Her refusal to be Rochester's pseudo-wife constitutes Jane's triumph in her most crucial spiritual test, as she makes the wrenching choice between her idolatrous love for him and her belief in G-d. Though her bond with Rochester provides her hardest trial, it also gives her the clarity and strength to successfully avoid what would have been another, probably fatal, snare to her self development--the marriage proposal of St. John Rivers. St. John, too, is stamped with an inviolate integrity of self, but he sees Jane solely as an instrument for his own ends and acknowledges only those parts of her nature which dovetail with his own designs. It is because she has experienced Rochester's sincere, if flawed, love and appreciation, that Jane is able to recognize the inadequacy and destructiveness of this proffered bond.
     Rochester, while yearning for what is good, honest and pure, and attracted to those redemptive qualities in Jane, must overcome the hubris and narcissistic self-indulgence which has goaded him into self-idolatry, placing the gratification of his own desires above the will of G-d. In his regressive flirtation with Blanche Ingram, reminiscent of his initial attraction to Bertha and his various mistresses, he re-confirms his preference for inner, rather than outer, beauty in a mate. His desertion by Jane and the subsequent loss of his arm and eyesight return Rochester to a state of alienation and despair from which only humility and belief in G-d can redeem him. In the end, by placing G-d first in their lives and accepting His chastisement, both Jane and Rochester are rewarded by reunion with one another, their separate salvations of self crowned by the redemption of re- unification on a higher level. The sense of acceptance and belonging which they experience with one another, and the recognition each feels for long-denied facets of the other's true nature--Rochester for Jane's passion, Jane for Rochester's yearning for honesty and goodness--has helped both to re-connect with their original essential selves.
     Because the love between Jane and Rochester--despite its darker, inevitable element of power struggle--is rooted in this recognition of, and respect for, each other's true selves. I found the final felicitous resolution of their relationship to be satisfying and acceptable, and was even able to wink and overlook the improbable and melodramatic route that resolution took (though I do wish it could have been reached without the taint of Rochester's disempowerment). There is something moving and beautiful about these two people, indefatigably reaching for love: like two trees in a dense, dark forest, bending, twisting and inter-twining to reach an aperture of warm, bright sunlight, more beautiful to my mind than their unblemished brothers.

By Marsha Beitchman

      Our view of nature as a force in need of taming goes hack to prehistoric times when our ancestors recognized the need, for their own survival and the continuation of the species, to gain some control over themselves and their environment. Paleolithic man was but a small figure in a vast landscape and surely felt a strong sense of vulnerability in regards to the overwhelming odds he faced. Artifacts dating back to this period indicate man's efforts to understand, placate and hopefully subdue the often hostile yet profoundly awe inspiring forces of nature. From these attempts evolved a system of alliances and codes for interaction that we know as civilization.
      Civilization is based on cooperation. Its success depends on individuals working together for the welfare of the group. It requires a balance between our instinctual needs and desires and the demands placed on us by society. But not all individuals perform in ways that promote the general welfare, nor do all of us share equally in the benefits that civilization claims to offer.
      The powerful forces that reside within us are related to the elemental forces of nature. Civilization does not transcend or eliminate the underlying violence within each of us, it sublimates it and attempts to direct it into socially acceptable outlets. Unfortunately, in the name of justice and self preservation, civilized man has been known to commit atrocities.
      Wuthering Heights is an attempt to understand and reconcile those natural forces within us with the expectations of society. Heathcliff is an example of the effects of cruelty, deprivation and alienation that are the by products of civilization. His brutality is a direct result of his having been denied the fundamental need for nurturing that children thrive on. Abandoned as a child, uncared for and unloved, he was left to fend for himself in what must have seemed a hostile and frightening world. Constant rejection and humiliation stimulated his desire for revenge. Having been rejected he in turn rejects the system that spawned him and he sets out to destroy it. He attempts to turn the cruelty he experienced back on those whom he feels have wronged him and thereby relieve his own suffering. He substitutes hate for love, violence for peace, and disorder for harmony. He brutally separates those whom he considers his enemies from their comforts and security, their honor, and finally from those for whom they care. Unable to accept the need to control and modify his passions as a means of partaking in the love and acceptance he craves, his efforts leave him lonely and tormented. He finds himself no closer to the retribution for the love he lost nor the peace of mind for which he desperately longed.
      Heathcliff was an exile and an outsider from the first. On his arrival at Wuthering Heights, Nelly describes him as dirty and ragged, of unknown origins and speaking gibberish. He is immediately regarded as a source of discord. Catherine's reaction is to spit in his face and Nelly leaves him in the hall overnight in the hope that he will disappear. Hindley loses no time in expressing his disdain for Heathcliff; bitterly resenting his father's alienation of affection in favor of his "imp of Satan," he persecutes Heathcliff relentlessly. Hindley's treatment of Heathcliff, in Nelly's opinion, was "enough to make a fiend of a saint." In spite of this adversity Nelly remembers Heathcliff as "the gentlest child that was ever watched over... as uncomplaining as a lamb."
      Heathcliff's relation with Catherine was the only comfort he had. They formed a bond that enabled them to endure the harsh treatment they were subjected to by Hindley after the death of old Earnshaw, when Hindley became master of Wuthering Heights and vindictively reduced Heathcliff to the status of a servant. Turning to each other, Heathcliff and Catherine found acceptance and understanding and they became inseparable until the incident at Thrushcross Grange. It is here that they get their first taste of the beauty and luxury of cultured life. Catherine is immediately accepted but Heathcliff horrifies the Lintons by his appearance and his manners. They call him a thief and a gypsy, "a wicked boy at all events and quite unfit for a decent house," and Isabella wants the "frightful thing" to be put in the cellar.
      Heathcliff returns alone to Wuthering Heights and spends five lonely weeks there while he awaits Catherine's return. However, on her arrival he perceives an alteration in her attitude toward him. When the young Lintons visit the following day, already feeling a sense of rejection for his untamed ways in favor of the civilized life at the Grange, Heathcliff takes offense at a condescending remark of Edgar's and he sets off a crisis that concludes with Heathcliff's banishment from the festivities. He feels frustration at his inability to compete with Edgar, and he is furious at Hindley's humiliating treatment, so he begins to plot his revenge. His anger is further aroused when he overhears Catherine's plans to marry Edgar and, overwhelmed by what he interprets as her abandonment of him, he impetuously flees the moors.
      On his return, several years later, Heathcliff discovers that Catherine has in fact married Edgar Linton. He grows more vindictive and morose. The more pain he feels, the more sinister he becomes. He marries Isabella only to torment Edgar, his rival. He destroys what little there is left of Hindley and he takes on the `education' of young Hareton. With Catherine's death Heathcliff's anger and frustration peak and his behavior verges on madness. He is unable to consider a life without his beloved. He is incapable of being consoled and he turns before Nelly into a savage beast. He is consumed with an unspeakable sadness and in desperation he retreats from reality. He is driven on by the desire to revenge his loss and alleviate his pain. In this state of mind Heathcliff forces the marriage of his son Linton and young Cathy and in doing so his efforts to destroy Edgar are finally achieved. Shortly after young Linton succumbs to the brutal treatment he found at his father's hand. But Heathcliff's obsession with Catherine never ceases. For the eighteen years that followed her death he saw her image everywhere, just out of his reach. He confides to Nelly that "the entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her." Her physical appearance is reflected in the faces of young Cathy and Hareton, who eventually find consolation in each other. Their love is so painful a reminder to Heathcliff he can longer abide their presence and he withdraws into his own world. Close to death he makes a final desperate but unanswered plea for compassion and with this last rejection he dies a broken hearted and tormented soul. With Heathcliff's death order returns to Wuthering Heights, and with the union of Cathy and Hareton comes a rebirth of the ideals of peace and harmony on which civilization is based.
      There can be no doubt as to Heathcliff's inhuman brutality and the deliberate pain and destruction he causes to those he despises. He is not alone, however, in his cruelty. As old Joseph says, there is something of the other in all of us, and with few exceptions the characters in this novel share to some extent a degree of self absorbing pride and a disdain for what they consider to be threats to their own security and happiness that proves to be destructive.
      It is interesting to note one of the cruelest scenes in the novel is Lockwood's dream, in which he savagely drags the arm of Catherine's ghost over the broken window pane as she pleads for help. Lockwood has been treated rudely by his hosts earlier in the evening and his suppression of the fear and anger aroused by his humiliation is brutally awakened in his dream. Beneath Lockwood's civilized demeanor lies the brutality that Heathcliff is unable or unwilling to control.
      In Edgar Linton we find a sheltered, pampered and indulged youngster who grows into a rather self satisfied man, dependent on others for his own protection. His wealth, education and position bring him security, comfort and respect, but his seclusion gives him a limited understanding of the feelings and needs of those less fortunate than he. Edgar has mastered the superficial graces of civilized life but he is snobbish and often insensitive to those he feels threatened by, and his claims to superiority are offensive and cruel. Edgar's hatred and jealousy of Heathcliff are at first subdued by Catherine. But the knowledge that the "low ruffian," whose "presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous," has a hold on his wife, leads Edgar to strike Heathcliff with the violence and brutality that Nelly says would have leveled a slighter man. Hastily retreating from the scene he leaves his armed servants to eject the "offensive blackguard." Neither his education nor his civilized upbringing could restrain his passion and in his effort to separate Heathcliff and Catherine he deals the blow that leads to her illness and finally to her death.
      Edgar's condemnation of Isabella is equally tyrannical. He regards his sister's marriage to Heathcliff as the act of a traitor and he selfishly abandons her without a second thought. She is even excluded from Catherine's funeral and is forced to live out her days separated from her family and he friends. Only on her death does Edgar show her any compassion.
      In young Linton Heathcliff we also see signs of self indulgence and insensitivity to others. He whines and complains at the merest provocation. Frail and timid he is unable to withstand Heathcliff's onslaught and the harshness of the Heights itself. He selfishly and cowardly entraps Cathy in his father's scheme and unsympathetically sides with Heathcliff, who torments her. He looks forward to his uncle's death when he would become master of Thrushcross Grange, a dream that would never be fulfilled.
      Ironically it is young Cathy that remains at young Linton's side until his death. She and Hareton are the sole survivors of Heathcliff's rage. They alone are able to accept and transcend their differences. They grow to love and respect one another and thereby find the balance needed to reestablish the peace and harmony that eluded their elders.
      Civilization exacts a price from its members. Some individuals, for reasons intrinsic to society itself, pay more dearly than others. They become unwilling or unable to abide by its rules! They allow themselves to be governed by their fears and their passions and commit acts that lead to a breakdown in the social system. Students of psychology recognize that those who are made miserable tend to make others miserable. Heathcliff represents the anger and cruelty that can be produced by a system that claims superiority over untamed nature but can often be just as brutal and inhumane.

by Janet House

      In his book The Hero With a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell sets forth his theory that there is a monomyth which underlies all folk tales, myths, legends and even dreams.* Reflected in the tales of all cultures, including Chinese, Hindu, American Indian, Irish and Eskimo, this monomyth takes the form of a physical journey which the protagonist (or hero) must undergo in order to get to a new emotional, spiritual and psychological place. The monomyth is a guide which integrates all of the forces of life and provides a map for living.
      Campbell breaks down the cycle into three main stages: departure, initiation and return. Within these three stages are five to six steps through which the hero moves. First, the hero must leave his world and undertake a journey into an unknown world, in effect losing himself and descending into death. Next, he undergoes a series of tests, assisted by various helpers, which can be very dangerous and threatening. These tests serve as guideposts in his journey, and from each the hero learns something which helps to move him along. Finally, the hero reaches the apex of his journey, where there*is an apotheosis or transcendence. The hero, having evolved and emerged into his best possible self, must return home carrying with him his new found knowledge or boon to restore the world.
      Campbell calls this cycle "the one shape-shifting yet marvelously constant story" (Campbell, 3) and, indeed, while the general pattern of the journey is constant, the details vary according to culture and zeitgeist. Seen in this way, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn** is the portrayal of a particularly American hero journey. As will be shown here, Huck Finn's adventures on the Mississippi consistently follow Campbell's monomythic pattern, yet they differ significantly on some important points.
      First, Huck as the hero is not of noble birth whereas most of Campbell's protagonists are princes, princesses or divinely chosen in some way. While Huck Finn is special, he is, nevertheless, an ordinary American boy which other American boys can identify with. Secondly, magic and the supernatural play an important role in the tales Campbell uses to illustrate the hero cycle. In The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, however, there is no magic. There is luck, coincidence (at times highly unlikely coincidence), but there is no magic or supernatural. This again brings the story to a level that Americans can identify with. Finally, Huck's return is of a different nature than the traditional journey which reflects a particularly American ideal.
      Huck Finn's adventure begins when he sees his father's footprint in the snow. Up to this point, Huck describes his daily, routine life, but the footprint signals a change. Huck's father functions, therefore, as the herald signaling the call to adventure by "the crisis of his appearance" (Campbell, 51). As Campbell states:

The herald or announcer of the adventure is often dark, loathly, or terrifying, judged evil by the world; yet if one could follow, the way would be opened through the walls of day into the dark where the jewels glow (Campbell, 53).

The familiar life horizon has been outgrown; the old concepts, ideals, and emotional patterns no longer fit; the time for the passing of a threshold is at hand (Campbell, 51).

The first encounter of the hero-journey is with a protective figure (often a little old crone or old man) who provides the adventurer with amulets against the dragon forces he is about to pass (Campbell, 69).

Once having traversed the threshold, the hero moves in a dream landscape of curiously fluid, ambiguous forms, where he must survive a succession of trials . . . . The hero is covertly aided by the advice, amulets, and secret agents of the supernatural helper whom he met before his entrance into this region2illustrate (Campbell, 97).

[M]y heart swelled up sudden, like to bust; and the same second the house and all was behind me in the dark, and wasn't ever going to be before me no more in this world. She was the best girl I ever see and had the most sand (Twain, 309).

The hero may have to be brought back from his supernatural adventure by assistance from without. That is to say, the world may have to come and get him (Campbell, 207).

* Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973). All further references to this work appear in parentheses in the text.
** Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in The American Tradition in Literature, ed. George Perkins, et al. (New York: McGraw-Hill Publishing Company, 1990). All further references to this work appear in parentheses in the text.