SUPERNATURAL LANGUAGE
The Moon card in the Tarot’s Major Arcana perfectly exemplifies the feeling of the Underworld of Adventure. Nothing seems real; the character finds themselves in a world where everything is possible, but only within the purview of a dream landscape that they (perhaps rightly) mistrust. 

Jane Eyre, following her acceptance of Mr. Rochester’s proposal, finds herself in this strange, dreamlike otherworld. Again and again her thoughts dwell on the unreality of her situation, and her inability to believe in what her future promises. In describing these feelings, Brontë turns (as an established convention in the novel) to language of supernatural entities: ‘you are dripping like a mermaid; pull my cloak round you,’ says Rochester, in a meeting that mirrors their first encounter. Later, in response to Jane’s admission that ‘everything in life seems unreal,’ he says, ‘I am substantial enough—touch me.’
‘You, sir, are the most phantom-like of all,’ responds Jane, ‘you are a mere dream.’

We lack the vocabulary to describe the supra (or sub?)sensory world. As writers we tend to resort to metaphors, to feelings that we observe in response to the unknown and uncertain, and to comparisons with the supernatural beings that inhabit those realms.

What comparisons with the supernatural are appropriate to your story’s underworld?

CHIAROSCURO
The descent into the narrative underworld is often characterised by increasing darkness. Brontë punctuates the gloaming with intermittent periods of moonlight that mirror Jane’s alternating flashes of hope and doubt:

‘As I looked up at them, the moon appeared momentarily in that part of the sky which filled their fissure; her disk was blood-red and half overcast; she seemed to throw on me one bewildered, dreary glance, and buried herself again instantly in the deep drift of cloud.’
…
‘save for the shadows of clouds crossing it at intervals as the moon looked out’
…
‘the moon shut herself wholly within her chamber, and drew close her curtain of dense cloud’

Intermittent light is particularly prevalent in Gothic narratives, since it’s the light that deepens the darkness.

What (briefly) lights up your story’s underworld?

AWAKENING
The moonlight wakes Jane up on the night of Mr. Mason’s visit. The description hovers for a moment between the unease of awakening in the middle of the night, and the clarity and beauty of the moonlight, before being shattered by the terrifying scream:

‘I had forgotten to draw my curtain, which I usually did, and also to let down my window-blind. The consequence was, that when the moon, which was full and bright (for the night was fine), came in her course to that space in the sky opposite my casement, and looked in at me through the unveiled panes, her glorious gaze roused me. Awaking in the dead of night, I opened my eyes on her disk—silver-white and crystal clear. It was beautiful, but too solemn: I half rose, and stretched my arm to draw the curtain.

Good God! What a cry!

The night—its silence—its rest, was rent in twain by a savage, a sharp, a shrilly sound that ran from end to end of Thornfield Hall.’

I think this small, additional detail — of Jane’s early awakening — is a perfect illustration of a masterful storyteller at work. There’s no real need for Jane to experience a few extra moments of consciousness before she hears the scream; she could easily be wakened by the cries just like the other guests are. But it allows Brontë to:

1. Contrast the clarity of the light with the darkness of the house — as well as its inhabitants who are all in the dark.
2. Hint at the moon’s link to lunacy.
3. Establish Jane’s fondness for the moon, and her Romantic appreciation of the natural world.

How can you use a few additional moments of consciousness?

THE LUNAR LANDSCAPE
In a strange conversation that Mr. Rochester has with his ward, the moon once again seems to take up the supernatural burden of expressing what can’t be expressed by the natural.

Adèle heard him, and asked if she was to go to school “sans mademoiselle?”

“Yes,” he replied, “absolutely sans mademoiselle; for I am to take mademoiselle to the moon, and there I shall seek a cave in one of the white valleys among the volcano-tops, and mademoiselle shall live with me there, and only me.”

“She will have nothing to eat: you will starve her,” observed Adèle.

“I shall gather manna for her morning and night: the plains and hillsides in the moon are bleached with manna, Adèle.”

“She will want to warm herself: what will she do for a fire?”

“Fire rises out of the lunar mountains: when she is cold, I’ll carry her up to a peak, and lay her down on the edge of a crater.”

“Oh, qu’elle y sera mal—peu comfortable! And her clothes, they will wear out: how can she get new ones?”

Mr. Rochester professed to be puzzled. “Hem!” said he. “What would you do, Adèle? Cudgel your brains for an expedient. How would a white or a pink cloud answer for a gown, do you think? And one could cut a pretty enough scarf out of a rainbow.”

“She is far better as she is,” concluded Adèle, after musing some time: “besides, she would get tired of living with only you in the moon. If I were mademoiselle, I would never consent to go with you.”

“She has consented: she has pledged her word.”

“But you can’t get her there; there is no road to the moon: it is all air; and neither you nor she can fly.”

Mr. Rochester describes future life with Jane (“mademoiselle”) as a trip to the moon, ostensibly taking on a fairytale tone appropriate to the child but in fact suggesting several undercurrents:

1. A pun on “honeymoon“
2. The moon as a fantastic location that promises happiness – being “over the moon”
3. The moon as the only location where his fantasy life with his “fairy” would be possible
4. The unfeasible nature of such an existence, as revealed by Adele’s precocious questioning

How can the supernatural become the locus for impossible fantasies?

THE SPIRIT GUIDE
Often, when a character is about to cross into the Underworld of Adventure, a psychopomp appears in order to guide them.

For Jane, it’s the personification of the Moon that advises her to flee Thornfield Hall following the awful revelation:

‘She broke forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first penetrated the sable folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. It gazed and gazed on me. It spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart—

“My daughter, flee temptation.”

“Mother, I will.”’

Jane has no human to turn to for aid or advice, but she not only hears the maternal voice of the Moon, she also trusts her words and acts immediately on her guidance. Although the Moon urges her out into an unknown land and with no set direction, we know in hindsight that it was the best course for her to take.

What kind guide appears to help you cross the threshold?

Find the accompanying handout in the Coterie.