In contemporary culture we know it as the happy ending, the credit-roll moment when the lovers have sorted through their obstacles and misunderstandings and are left clasping each other.
In the 18th and 19th centuries, its most famous proponents were, of course, Jane Austen, George Eliot and the Brontë sisters.
It is no coincidence that women writers were focused on marriage in their work (although Charlotte Brontë and George Eliot published under male pseudonyms at first - Charlotte Brontë wrote that she and her sisters “had a vague impression that authoresses are liable to be looked on with prejudice”.) (...)
On the recommendation of a friend, I am re-reading Jane Eyre, my favourite novel and a marriage plot par excellence.
Charlotte Bronte married late for her time (a spinsterly 38) and the marriage was short because she died soon afterwards, probably from the effects of dehydration brought on by severe morning sickness.
In that way, Brontë’s own marriage plot was her demise, and I’m not sure if that’s a metaphor or just very bad luck.
Jane Eyre is preoccupied with questions of marriage versus independence, and the extent to which we should compromise our own true selves in the pursuit of romantic love.
Its eponymous heroine was radical for her time because she valued her freedom and personal integrity above the security of marriage, twice knocking back proposals, because to accept them would have meant compromising her sense of self to an extent she knew she couldn’t bear. (...)
Even when Jane does finally tie the knot, she subverts the genre by turning herself into the subject, not the object, with one of the most terrific sentences in literature: “Reader, I married him.” (Jacqueline Maley)
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