I have always believed that how sympathetic you are to the characters depends a lot on who’s perspective you get the story from. And it’s very rare that you get to hear both sides of a story in literature. Bertha Mason’s story is one of the few exceptions to this.
A year or so ago, I read Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. In it, you get the story of Rochester and Bertha’s courtship and marriage from her perspective. It’s very much different from Rochester’s poisoned recounting of the story when he tries to explain to Jane why he tried to marry her, even though he was already married to Bertha. In Wide Sargasso Sea, it’s Rochester who’s the villain. He’s a cold, unsympathetic, colonial oppressor and Bertha’s a misunderstood free spirit who may or may not be insane.
I could never really buy the premise of Sea, though. And I think it’s because I got to hear Rochester’s side of the story first. It’s rather amazing how having one side of the story can so shape your impressions of a character or a situation. For me, I’m afraid, Bertha will be the mad thing pawned off on a naive Rochester by unscrupulous parents.
The other issue that came up as I read this last section was how fact Jane forgives Rochester’s attempted bigamy. I had thought that bigamy was a pretty serious crime, then as now. But, after Jane has a time to mourn, she forgives him unreservedly. I would have been absolutely furious, myself. Perhaps it’s just more evidence of how deeply they are in love with each other. Rochester loves her so much he’s willing to break social and moral laws to be married to her, and Jane loves him so much that she can forgive him for doing it.