Of all the narrators, none make any drastic changes to their life or personality other than Rochester himself; only after Jane's departure from Thornfield following Bertha's revelation and subsequent loss of sight does Rochester become a compliant man, similar in tone to Jane's personality. Bertha's role in the novel, while compelling, serves as a sad undertone to the story on the surface, but scholars push to view her with a critical eye as a symbol of her era in which passionate women were madmen or monsters. Writing such a novel – particularly one with such a gothic tone – undoubtedly posed a threat to the masculine genre of the Victorian era and perhaps, in some ways, having such a placid protagonist and a passionate minor antagonist could reflect the conflict of authors between submission and anger. The madwoman in the attic, a phrase used by theorists Gilbert and Gubar (Donaldson, 2002) as they developed an argument about what exactly the “madwoman in the attic” represented. Perhaps it embodied all the pain and anger felt by the author of the text. You can be locked up, hidden, diagnosed as crazy, however, you cannot ignore the intensity of his character: his toughness, sexual power and mind make him an unforgettable character. Instead of removing such a burden from a person, the character chooses to end his own life. If the madwoman in the attic reflected Bronte herself, what killing her imaginary passion might mean for her?