The story of Jane Eyre and the story of The Old Man and the Sea are really the same story.
We can start with Hemingway's story, which tends to attract interpretations comparing it to Christ. (Suffering, redemption, etc.) But really, it’s about an old man who goes about his business and on this particular day he happens upon the catch of his life. And this catch is fierce and cunning and it tries to escape, but the old man sticks with it. He hangs on, tenacious as ever, striving for this thing that is his dream—the catch of a lifetime. In a way, he loves this fish. This marlin. It’s the thing he lives for, and works hard for every day, and suffers for. Pitted against this beast, you get the impression that the old man would die for this fish.
And so it goes for Jane. The story begins with her as a governess, going about her day’s work. But Rochester is her marlin, an unexpected entrant into her life and the very thing that inspires her and sparks a fierce effort. She loves him, and she won’t let go of him. She doesn’t give up. She doesn’t stray. Even when things get terrible, and he rejects her, and everyone around her fails her… she doesn’t give up. And like the old man, her catch gets destroyed by sharks and she’s left with the remnants of what she caught.
The stories end, but you get the impression that the endings are not the point. Things look bleak at the ends. We’re all back to square one in a way, and through certain eyes it can seem frustrating and pointless. “See? All that work for nothing!” But the pages of these books, what we paid money to own and read and think about, are mostly comprised of words that describe everything else besides the ending. The beginning, and the development, and the struggle, and the elaborate descriptions, and moments, and dialogue. All the little similes and metaphors, and the struggle.
Jane Eyre and the Old Man don’t give up. They hang on, and they try. And even when people tell them not to try, that it’s useless, they keep trying.
Hope requires stubbornness and can appear foolish, but it also provides a kind of sustenance and energy that renders any apparent foolishness irrelevant and entirely beside the point.
The point is to always get back up.
