The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

I was totally spellbound by The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, the second and final novel of Anne Bronte. This Victorian story opens in a rural community that has it’s focus on the newest arrival, a young widow, Helen Graham, who has taken up the tenancy at Wildfell Hall with her young son. As the community tried to unravel the truth behind Helen’s background, malicious gossip and innuendo arises accusing her of being an immoral woman. A local gentleman farmer, Gilbert Markham, finds himself becoming more enamoured by the widow and although they have obviously formed an attachment, he is frustrated by her resistance to his romantic advances and torn by jealousy. When she finally allows him to read about her life from her diary her show more troubled past is revealed.

Helen’s previous life had been ruled by her alcoholic adulterous husband who made her life a living hell and seemed bent on teaching her son to follow in his debauchery. The book gives the reader a clear look at Victorian sensibilities, and although extremely shocking at the time of publication, has been lauded over the years for exposing the hypocrisy of hiding away scandals for appearance sake. I cannot imagine trying to live up to the ridge code of behaviour that was applied to Victorian women.

I loved this story and grew to admire Helen immensely. Gilbert, on the other hand, although far better than her husband, was not my idea of the perfect man as he exhibited a childish, petulant side with a wicked temper. The story is told in an epistolary manner as Gilbert writes to a friend and then the pages of Helen’s diary. I got totally caught up in this revealing early feminist novel that was quite simply an exquisite read. show less

Apparently, the main reason Anne Brontë's masterpiece is not as well known as her sisters' is that Charlotte suppressed any new editions after her death, as the novel was deemed extremely shocking for its time. This is very unfortunate, as The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is much better than Anne's previous book, Agnes Grey, better even than Emily's Wuthering Heights, and nearly as good as Charlotte's Jane Eyre. Like Jane Eyre, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall examines the roles of reason and passion in life and concludes that both are necessary to achieve happiness. More specifically, Wildfell Hall is about how to judge other people's characters, particularly in matters of love. These themes are brilliantly dramatized through a story about a show more woman who makes a youthful, but profound, error in whom she chooses to marry, and as her husband's vicious nature becomes increasingly clear, struggles to leave him---and how she herself is unfairly judged by her new neighbors when she manages to do so. (While I'm sure Anne didn't intend it this way, given her Christian piety, the novel could be read as a good argument for liberal divorce laws and the wisdom of cohabitation before marriage.)

Many people sharply contrast the romanticism of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre with the realism of Wildfell Hall, but this is a mistake---and, despite its more frank depictions of some of the social problems of its time (including alcoholism and domestic abuse), Anne rejected this dichotomy in the novel itself:

"'But romantic notions will not do: I want her to have true notions.'

"'Very right: but in my judgment, what the world stigmatises as romantic, is often more nearly allied to the truth than is commonly supposed; for, if the generous ideas of youth are too often over-clouded by the sordid views of after-life, that scarcely proves them to be false.'"

This is related to the broader theme about the dichotomy of reason and passion, which she also rejects, so that analysis more or less misses the whole point of the novel.

Like Jane Eyre (and to a lesser extent Wuthering Heights), The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is an intellectual and emotional tour de force, and one of the greatest classics in all of world literature. It's a real tragedy that Anne died even younger than her sisters before she could write anything else. Four and a half stars. show less

As a Victorianist, I was of course made to read a lot of Brontë novels in undergrad and grad school, either in coursework or beyond: Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, The Professor, Villette. But they were all by Emily or Charlotte... never Anne! Bu I did once pick up a copy of Anne's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and have finally gotten around to reading it.

I was familiar with Kate Beaton's "Dude Watchin' with the Brontës," which tells us that marrying alcoholic brooding men with no emotional intelligence was a thing that Emily and Charlotte were into, but not Anne, and indeed, that's basically the thesis of Tenant of Wildfell Hall. Our protagonist is a gentleman farmer who gets a new neighbor, a woman with a daughter; he's show more attracted to her but she's mysterious. Eventually she tells him the story of her first marriage, which was quite terrible. It's easy to read this as what it really might be like to be married to, say, Heathcliff. Then everything works out. It's definitely more pious than the works of Charlotte or Emily, and I don't know that it was more to my actual taste than Jane Eyre, which probably beats it for character complexity. But it, despite being a bit on the slow side, certainly wasn't as boring as The Professor or Villette.

So I am glad I finally read it, and I intend to seek out Anne's other novel now, but I doubt I will ever become a superfan of any of the Brontës, as influential as they all are. show less

The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall is far, far better than Anne's other novel, Agnes Grey. When I first read it, I thought it was decent enough, and possibly my most enjoyed book of the Brontës after Jane Eyre, and having just finished my second perusal, I would say that it is okay, and possibly it's true that it comes in second place, since I despised Wuthering Heights and was bored by Agnes Grey, Shirley and The Professor (Villette I read too many years ago to fairly judge, but I did not like it at the time), but it is a very distant second place and overall not likely that I would bother reading it a third time.

While Anne obviously felt that literature was a means to sharing moral enlightenment, The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall is a lot more show more human and interesting than Agnes Grey, which barely even had a plot and was just a series of scenes in which a perfect(ly dull) narrator told us about the mean people she had met. While again Anne has used upsetting experiences from her real life to make a story, here she has woven it more subtly into its own plot. The mystery surrounding the title character, Helen, is intriguing and her strong feminist ideals are very appealing. She doesn't just think that women deserve to be treated the same as men (like Jane and Shirley in Charlotte's books) but she also believes that men should be treated the same as women (that they should not be bullied or shamed for 'feminine' behaviour) which is incredibly forward-thinking of her.

However, I find the structure is something of a mess. Really the book feels like two framing devices, one inside the other. First of all we have the concept that this story is being told by our narrator, Gilbert Markham, to his brother-in-law, Halford. The first time I read the book, I found this idea irritating, because it felt like Anne was trying to justify why a first-person narrator would exist, why they would be telling their memoirs, and as a huge fan of first-person narration, this need to explain grated on me. This time it did not seem so unnecessary, and Markham's asides to Halford feel natural enough and preferable to the clunky direct-to-audience addresses that Anne used in her previous novel (and Charlotte seemed obsessed with in hers). However, since Markham states how close he is to Halford (closer even than he is to his siblings or any friend) it feels pretty much impossible that ALL of this story should be unknown to Halford and it is unconvincing the way Markham introduces and talks of characters - new to us the audience, but who definitely would be known to Halford the supposed recipient of this story. I guess back in those days people just didn't see each other often enough to actually talk about anything.

Then we get the massive info-dump flashback (or really bulk of the novel) when Helen hands Markham her diary, and he in turn now posts it to his brother-in-law (as if!) and we learn her story. This of course is the 'real' story, but since we go in knowing basically what will become of Helen by the end, it is obviously going to be a tragic tale and it becomes quite tedious having to wade through the young and naive Helen's stupid blindness to what is going on around her. I realise that it is true to life that people get trapped in unhealthy relationships with abusive or negligent partners, and that often they won't listen to reason from friends trying to help them and will blind themselves with love and loyalty, but all the same, it is infuriating having to read about it. The Helen of the diary did not strike me as reminiscent of the Helen of the first part of the novel. I suppose the years to despair made her a more intelligent, deeper person, but it just didn't convince me that I was reading about the same character at all. Her level of blindness really pushed past what could be believed, and ended up making her less sympathetic because I couldn't help rolling my eyes. I cannot conceive how she is so unable to see Arthur's faults even when he tells her about them himself and yet she is so distinctly perceptive about Mr Hargrave. Hargrave is a more decent person than Arthur, and loves her for far longer than Arthur ever did, and yet she is instantly on her guard about him for pretty much no reason. How can she be this stupid and this smart at the same time? Then we have the passing of time - sometimes we get details of every hour and then we will suddenly jump a year. We get plenty of her thoughts but somehow the actual events of the story feel glossed over. Whichever way, not that much changes. We see straight away that Arthur is a complete shit, and then we have to watch him slowly try to destroy Helen, while we are endlessly regaled with her hopes and fears, over and over, without really much new being added to the story. Also her religious zeal is actually quite annoying, much as I hate to side with the despicable Arthur. It is one of those 'of-its-time' ideas. Just like Jane Eyre, Helen's religious fervour makes adultery absolutely out of the question even in the face of a marriage that is totally worthless, with the modern reader left kind of just going... why? It was better handled in Jane's case; here it's just another roll of the eyes.

Eventually the diary ends and we revert to Markham's narration, helped along by him managing to read some of Helen's letters to allow us back into her perspective. This really makes me wonder whose story this is, Helen's or Markham's, and if Anne would have been happier just to make Helen the main character after all. It would be a shame to lose that opening mystery, but because of this imbalance the novel feels like a bit of a mess.

There's also a conceit that all the characters in the book appear to have photographic memories and are quite capable of regurgitating entire scenes that involved multiple characters almost as if they are novelists telling a story. Basically I'm beginning to think that this book should have been written in 3rd person and saved Anne the trouble of how to constantly show scenes in which the narrator(s) was not present.

Also the final section, possibly not helped by my slight boredom left over from Helen's endless, whiny (obviously she has just cause to be upset and I get that she is trapped because of the way society at that time treated women*, but a story needs more than just that point to make it consistently readable i.e. it needs to be entertaining too) and repetitive diary, is fairly irritating as Markham wastes his time moping about and not doing what he was supposed to for seemingly no reason whatever. He does often come across as a stroppy teenager, and it is a wonder that Helen ever liked him considering what trouble she has had with men. The finale itself is a little lacklustre. Anne seemed to feel a need to write romance without making a convincing case for the pairing. It's not as bad as in Anges Grey, when I laughed aloud at the idea that the romantic leads loved each other, because the love part here, or at least the repressed passion part, is certainly referenced, but their entire relationship has only ever really been referenced rather than properly shown, we don't see what exactly they like about each other or if they particularly get along and we never get to see them spending time together as a couple, so I have no idea how they are suited to each other.

So, in all.... It's perfectly readable (although I often found my eyes skimming the page during Helen's narration) but the structure and narration could have been vastly improved, and the story, while sort of intriguing, is not nearly as exciting as it should be, and Helen's unwavering goodness and Godliness makes her somewhat dull at times, and in the end I'm not sure how much I really care about the happiness of Markham or Helen. As usual, all the bad characters get their comeuppance and all the good characters are rewarded. I mean, I do prefer that to Wuthering Heights, in which evil reigns, but it is still rather clumsy. The characters in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall feel more human than the automatons in Agnes Grey, but they are still not very nuanced. In order to rejoice at the triumph of good, the good must be likeable and relatable, and while Helen certainly suffers more than most, she bears it all too well and is never tempted herself (the only time she may be, we don't get her perspective), so I can never really sympathise with her. Still, I'm sure this was a delightfully shocking novel when it came out.

*In fact, Helen never really tests this, she never asks anyone for help and no one tells her this is her burden, she just accepts that this is probably how it is. If her aunt and then she and then Milicent actually talked openly to each other then some of them may have been saved from misery, but for some reason they're all too polite and well-bred to express the truth, which might be due to societal pressure but just makes them come across as repressed and inconsiderate. show less

Definitely one of the best examples of 19th-century British lit that's not as cheesy or cliched as other books within the same genre. For me, 19th-century lit is a real mixed bag of hit and miss, even when I try to not judge said books by modern-day standards, as things were quite different for women back then and that is going to affect the way the authors wrote these books.

Still, it's hard to not feel happy about a book where a woman leaves her abusive husband and tries to make her own way in the world by earning her own money instead of being reliant on a husband, something seen as quite scandalous back in these times. Frankly, it's quite depressing to think about the fact that women back then were expected to stay with their abusive show more husbands, but if the gender roles were reversed, it'd have been seen as ok for the husband to dump his wife in a sanitarium or lock her away somewhere.

So yay for Helen! She still has some struggles, and deals with constraints of the society she has been raised and tries to make her way in, but I found the storytelling to be balanced and realistic for its time.

at 4.5/5 stars, I found this book quite refreshing for its genre, and would recommend it to anyone interested in 19th-century lit. show less

Published in 1848, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is a remarkable work for its time. The storyline covers domestic abuse, female agency, and moral corruption. It is structured in dual perspectives: Gilbert Markham writes letters to his friend Halford, and Helen Huntingdon composes diary entries. We first get Gilbert’s view of what is going on with Helen, the titular “tenant,” who has moved into the community and is the subject of gossip. We then obtain Helen’s perspective, which provides the full picture.

Helen impulsively marries Athur Huntingdon, a man of many flaws, against her aunt’s advice. She marries based on physical attraction, the feeling of being “in love,” and youthful exuberance. Her diary entries provide a show more gradual realization that she has made a big mistake. She refuses to be defined by male authority, despite receiving much advice to the contrary. These choices were radical for the time, as married women had no legal rights to their children or property until the late 19th century.

Brontë criticizes Victorian marriage customs and gender inequality. She probes into the double-standard, where Helen suffers social scorn, while her husband’s outrageous behavior is excused. I’m sure the novel's depictions of alcoholism, domestic abuse, and infidelity were shocking for its time. It is one of the earliest examples of feminist writing.

I am amazed that the book reads so much like a contemporary novel, particularly the (mostly) straight-forward language. My typical experience with Victorian literature requires wading through ornate prose. But here, the dialogue feels natural, and the storytelling direct. The characters are well developed, and I found it easy to root for Helen. It is very much a novel of realism, which seems fitting for the subject matter. I did not expect to enjoy this book as much as I did! It certainly deserves its place as a literary classic. show less

"Enjoyed" might be a strong word for reading this. The story of Helen's marriage isn't quite as depressing as some other hard-hitting 19th-century novels (cough cough, Jude the Obscure), but it's on up there. In reading fiction, I don't think I've ever run across depictions of male characters who are such prime examples of gaslighting, toxic masculinity, narcissism, and emotional abuse. It surprised me in a 1848 novel, because Anne Bronte certainly would not have had those specific terms in mind when she crafted the characters.

And it is a well-crafted novel. It's realistic throughout: no caricatures; no extreme drama or sentimentalism; no plot holes or sudden fortuitous endings (though, SPOILER ALERT, it is a happy ending!). Much show more unlike some of the twists and little gothic details of Charlotte's work. show less