Status
Available
Publication
Penguin Classics (1985)
Description
Classic Literatur Fictio HTML: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is a novel in three parts, written as a letter from Gilbert Markham to his brother-in-Law. Markham is a prosperous farmer who is casually courting Eliza Millward. When a mysterious widow takes up residence in a local tumbledown mansion, Wildfell Hall, he becomes more and more interested in her and the slighted Eliza starts spreading malicious rumors.
Similar in this library
Media reviews
Sharpe's London Magazine
"profane expressions, inconceivably coarse language, and revolting scenes and descriptions by which its pages are disfigured"
Spectator
"a morbid love for the coarse, not to say the brutal"
North American Review
"The reader of Acton Bell gains no enlarged view of mankind, giving a healthy action to his sympathies, but is confined to a narrow space of life, and held down, as it were, by main force, to witness the wolfish side of his nature literally and logically set forth."
[English] society owes thanks, not sneers, to those who dare to shew her the image of her own ugly, hypocritical visage".
"...like the fatal melody of the siren's song, its very perfections render it more dangerous, and therefore more carefully to be avoided."
User reviews
LibraryThing member RidgewayGirl
When The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte was first published in 1848, it created a scandal and was a runaway bestseller, out-selling her sister Emily's Wuthering Heights. Her sister Charlotte condemned it as overly realistic (which makes me wonder about Charlotte, who was also critical of
To the modern reader, the scene that sparked the scandal might fly past without notice; when the husband of our heroine, Helen, gets drunk and verbally abusive, she goes to her room and locks the door against him. Outrageous, eh? Much more shocking to me was an early scene where Helen and her five-year-old son visit her new neighbors and they offer both of them a nice alcoholic beverage. When Helen refuses on the part of her son she is given a lecture by the mistress of the house on how boys need to learn to drink from an early age.
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall tells the story of Helen, her disastrous marriage to the dissolute Huntingdon and her subsequent flight to the run-down Wildfell Hall, where she lives in a few rooms alone with her son and a single servant, and of how her presence in a quiet, rural area excites the attention and then the gossip of her neighbors. Bronte is a master of characterization, especially in the form of Helen's husband, who enters the story as the witty, Byronic hero (also, he is hot), and then develops into someone very different. Helen's a bit of a damp squib, what with her firm belief in her duty to let everyone around her know when they are falling short, morally speaking, and in her determination to revel in her misery, but one can't but admire her fortitude and strength of will. And Gilbert, well, I'll let you draw your own conclusions about Gilbert.
Show More
Jane Austen's gentler offerings).To the modern reader, the scene that sparked the scandal might fly past without notice; when the husband of our heroine, Helen, gets drunk and verbally abusive, she goes to her room and locks the door against him. Outrageous, eh? Much more shocking to me was an early scene where Helen and her five-year-old son visit her new neighbors and they offer both of them a nice alcoholic beverage. When Helen refuses on the part of her son she is given a lecture by the mistress of the house on how boys need to learn to drink from an early age.
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall tells the story of Helen, her disastrous marriage to the dissolute Huntingdon and her subsequent flight to the run-down Wildfell Hall, where she lives in a few rooms alone with her son and a single servant, and of how her presence in a quiet, rural area excites the attention and then the gossip of her neighbors. Bronte is a master of characterization, especially in the form of Helen's husband, who enters the story as the witty, Byronic hero (also, he is hot), and then develops into someone very different. Helen's a bit of a damp squib, what with her firm belief in her duty to let everyone around her know when they are falling short, morally speaking, and in her determination to revel in her misery, but one can't but admire her fortitude and strength of will. And Gilbert, well, I'll let you draw your own conclusions about Gilbert.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Nickelini
WHAT I DISLIKED: This book was ridiculously over-long. My edition was 487 oversized pages, which doesn't sound that bad really. However, too many of these pages were completely unnecessary. The actual story, which took up the middle of the book was framed with a 96 page (sixteen chapters!)
Bronte really likes to use a lot of words. She uses a lot of words to describe every.single.detail of what is going on in a character's mind, and what they think is going on in the other characters' minds. There is also a lot of moralizing and 19th century social commentary. For pages and pages and pages and pages. Near the end, Gilbert apologizes for his "melancholy musings." Sorry, too late. I already hate you.
WHAT I LIKED: There is probably about a hundred pages of this novel that I just love and think are brilliant. The protagonist, Helen, is a courageous proto-feminist who stands up to her abusive alcoholic husband in an era when that just wasn't done. And the 150-odd pages of actual story were very interesting.
I also think that Anne's main characters were much more realistic than her sisters'. In particular, her ability to write male characters far surpasses Emily and Charlotte's. These men actually have conversations, and can speak to a woman without going into diatribes and sermons, like every male character in Jane Eyre. Sure, Huntington is a tyrannical reprobate, but he's not an evil psychopath like Heathcliff.
And when the going gets tough, Helen forms a plan just like an real adult. She doesn't have a hissy fit and will herself to die (Cathy, Wuthering Heights) or run away, immediately lose all her money and then wander the moors (the heroine in Jane Eyre). In the end I like both Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre better than The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, but the one thing I can say in Anne's defense is that her main character is a grown up.
Just for fun, I'd like to see this story retold from Huntington's point of view. Yes, he was vile--I mean, what sort of father gets his four-year old son drunk and teaches him to swear? But still, I think from his wing-back in front of the hearth, Helen would look like a humorless stick-in-the-mud. He was no angel, but considering he was met with her dour, judgmental face at breakfast every morning, its no wonder he escaped to London for months at a time.
Recommended for: Fans of 19th century British literature. I also think that anyone who has enjoyed the other Brontes should give this one a try too.
Show More
introduction and a 76 page conclusion. Everything that happened in these 172 pages could have been considerably condensed. The events of the first section could easily be told in one paragraph. Okay, to add a little suspense, Bronte should have made it one short chapter. The concluding frame was a little more important to the story, but again could be told in one chapter. As for the middle section, it also could have been trimmed. Bronte really likes to use a lot of words. She uses a lot of words to describe every.single.detail of what is going on in a character's mind, and what they think is going on in the other characters' minds. There is also a lot of moralizing and 19th century social commentary. For pages and pages and pages and pages. Near the end, Gilbert apologizes for his "melancholy musings." Sorry, too late. I already hate you.
WHAT I LIKED: There is probably about a hundred pages of this novel that I just love and think are brilliant. The protagonist, Helen, is a courageous proto-feminist who stands up to her abusive alcoholic husband in an era when that just wasn't done. And the 150-odd pages of actual story were very interesting.
I also think that Anne's main characters were much more realistic than her sisters'. In particular, her ability to write male characters far surpasses Emily and Charlotte's. These men actually have conversations, and can speak to a woman without going into diatribes and sermons, like every male character in Jane Eyre. Sure, Huntington is a tyrannical reprobate, but he's not an evil psychopath like Heathcliff.
And when the going gets tough, Helen forms a plan just like an real adult. She doesn't have a hissy fit and will herself to die (Cathy, Wuthering Heights) or run away, immediately lose all her money and then wander the moors (the heroine in Jane Eyre). In the end I like both Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre better than The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, but the one thing I can say in Anne's defense is that her main character is a grown up.
Just for fun, I'd like to see this story retold from Huntington's point of view. Yes, he was vile--I mean, what sort of father gets his four-year old son drunk and teaches him to swear? But still, I think from his wing-back in front of the hearth, Helen would look like a humorless stick-in-the-mud. He was no angel, but considering he was met with her dour, judgmental face at breakfast every morning, its no wonder he escaped to London for months at a time.
Recommended for: Fans of 19th century British literature. I also think that anyone who has enjoyed the other Brontes should give this one a try too.
Show Less
LibraryThing member atimco
Anne Brontë's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, first published in 1848, is considered the most scandalous of the Brontë sisters' novels, dealing as it does with themes of domestic abuse, gross marital infidelity, alcoholism, and a woman's blatant defiance of her husband in the face of the most
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall tells the story of a young woman, Helen, who marries thinking she can mold her husband into a better man. With a setup like that, it is necessarily tragic and admonitory toward others who may be of the same mind. Arthur Huntingdon, while never quite a monster, is a wholly selfish being who quickly lapses into alcoholism and extramarital affairs when his fascination with Helen ceases. Helen, who really does love him, is slowly stretched out on a rack of emotional and spiritual agony that intensifies as their marriage progresses. When Arthur thoughtlessly starts corrupting their young son, Helen knows they must escape for the boy's sake. But at that time a woman had no legal right to seek divorce, no matter what the provocation, and to run away from one's husband was almost unheard of. Many readers hail Helen as an early example of feminism, pushing back against male tyranny and abuse.
The novel is partly epistolary and partly excerpts of Helen's diary, and the epistolary parts are narrated by Gilbert Markham, a young farmer in the district to which Helen flees. Writing his tale for a curious friend, Gilbert chronicles his introduction to Helen and their slowly blossoming friendship and eventual love, hampered always by secrets from her past. It's striking that Gilbert is far from a heroic figure, even with Arthur Huntingdon and Walter Hargrave as foils. Gilbert can be petty and vindictive, even unreasonably violent toward another man. Though I was glad that he and Helen do end up getting married, I did wonder a little if he really deserved her. I closed the book thinking perhaps he would grow in the right direction under Helen's influence—which is ironic, really, given the premise of the novel that women cannot reform the men they marry. What makes Gilbert more sincere than Arthur in his admiration of Helen's character and determination to win her? I guess it comes down to which character we trust.
There are no perfect or saintlike characters in this story, although Helen is probably the closest we come to that type. Though she patiently endures unspeakable anguish at the hands of her husband, she is far from perfect and her diary at times betrays her active hatred toward the man who has made her life so miserable. If it didn't, she'd probably come across as quite insufferable! She's foolish and naive in the beginning, thinking that she can influence and shape Arthur so decidedly, but she atones for her wilfulness with fortitude. Indeed, she relies on God for her strength, expressing trust and faith in the moments of her deepest distress. And yet... and yet, as a reader I couldn't warm to her. There is an indefinable something about her that repulses both pity and personal attraction. I can't quite put my finger on it.
Motherhood is a profound motive in this story, as Helen's primary impetus to escape her husband is her son, whom Arthur is teaching to tipple and curse with the rest of his unsavory circle. Helen cannot bear to see her son becoming like his father, and this provides her with an unselfish motive for leaving. The implication is that she would have stayed and endured indefinitely were it not for her little boy. Little Arthur is the extenuating circumstance that justifies her flight.
An interesting (though mostly left resting) thread in the novel is Helen's (and Anne Brontë's) belief in universal salvation; that is, the belief that all souls will eventually be saved, though they must endure the purifying fires of Hell first. A young and inexperienced Helen argues vehemently for this doctrine and calls it a "beautiful thought," but I find it telling that the idea is not alluded to again during the terrible years of her ever-worsening marriage.
Though a fairly strong novel in its own right, Wildfell probably would not be much read today were it not for its more famous sister-novels Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. It explores many of the same themes—domestic abuse, the dangerous charm of a handsome man, infidelity, scandal, and the particularly intense family drama unique to the Brontës—but somehow there is less to hold onto in this story than there is in the other two (especially Jane Eyre). Jane Eyre's characters are wholly sympathetic and Wuthering Heights's characters are wholly unsympathetic; at least you know where you are with them. Wildfell's characters are neither, somehow, and this tension leaves me rather confused. I read voraciously and felt, I suppose, the emotions appropriate at each new turn, but I don't see myself revisiting this story, technically competent though it may be.
Show More
painful betrayal. Please be aware that this review will contain spoilers. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall tells the story of a young woman, Helen, who marries thinking she can mold her husband into a better man. With a setup like that, it is necessarily tragic and admonitory toward others who may be of the same mind. Arthur Huntingdon, while never quite a monster, is a wholly selfish being who quickly lapses into alcoholism and extramarital affairs when his fascination with Helen ceases. Helen, who really does love him, is slowly stretched out on a rack of emotional and spiritual agony that intensifies as their marriage progresses. When Arthur thoughtlessly starts corrupting their young son, Helen knows they must escape for the boy's sake. But at that time a woman had no legal right to seek divorce, no matter what the provocation, and to run away from one's husband was almost unheard of. Many readers hail Helen as an early example of feminism, pushing back against male tyranny and abuse.
The novel is partly epistolary and partly excerpts of Helen's diary, and the epistolary parts are narrated by Gilbert Markham, a young farmer in the district to which Helen flees. Writing his tale for a curious friend, Gilbert chronicles his introduction to Helen and their slowly blossoming friendship and eventual love, hampered always by secrets from her past. It's striking that Gilbert is far from a heroic figure, even with Arthur Huntingdon and Walter Hargrave as foils. Gilbert can be petty and vindictive, even unreasonably violent toward another man. Though I was glad that he and Helen do end up getting married, I did wonder a little if he really deserved her. I closed the book thinking perhaps he would grow in the right direction under Helen's influence—which is ironic, really, given the premise of the novel that women cannot reform the men they marry. What makes Gilbert more sincere than Arthur in his admiration of Helen's character and determination to win her? I guess it comes down to which character we trust.
There are no perfect or saintlike characters in this story, although Helen is probably the closest we come to that type. Though she patiently endures unspeakable anguish at the hands of her husband, she is far from perfect and her diary at times betrays her active hatred toward the man who has made her life so miserable. If it didn't, she'd probably come across as quite insufferable! She's foolish and naive in the beginning, thinking that she can influence and shape Arthur so decidedly, but she atones for her wilfulness with fortitude. Indeed, she relies on God for her strength, expressing trust and faith in the moments of her deepest distress. And yet... and yet, as a reader I couldn't warm to her. There is an indefinable something about her that repulses both pity and personal attraction. I can't quite put my finger on it.
Motherhood is a profound motive in this story, as Helen's primary impetus to escape her husband is her son, whom Arthur is teaching to tipple and curse with the rest of his unsavory circle. Helen cannot bear to see her son becoming like his father, and this provides her with an unselfish motive for leaving. The implication is that she would have stayed and endured indefinitely were it not for her little boy. Little Arthur is the extenuating circumstance that justifies her flight.
An interesting (though mostly left resting) thread in the novel is Helen's (and Anne Brontë's) belief in universal salvation; that is, the belief that all souls will eventually be saved, though they must endure the purifying fires of Hell first. A young and inexperienced Helen argues vehemently for this doctrine and calls it a "beautiful thought," but I find it telling that the idea is not alluded to again during the terrible years of her ever-worsening marriage.
Though a fairly strong novel in its own right, Wildfell probably would not be much read today were it not for its more famous sister-novels Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. It explores many of the same themes—domestic abuse, the dangerous charm of a handsome man, infidelity, scandal, and the particularly intense family drama unique to the Brontës—but somehow there is less to hold onto in this story than there is in the other two (especially Jane Eyre). Jane Eyre's characters are wholly sympathetic and Wuthering Heights's characters are wholly unsympathetic; at least you know where you are with them. Wildfell's characters are neither, somehow, and this tension leaves me rather confused. I read voraciously and felt, I suppose, the emotions appropriate at each new turn, but I don't see myself revisiting this story, technically competent though it may be.
Show Less
LibraryThing member lit_chick
Helen Graham, the enigmatic new tenant of Wildfell Hall, has a dark secret – but not the one circulating amongst local gossips. Gilbert Markham, who falls for the young “widow” will be shocked to realize her truth, which is revealed to him through her dairies. Mrs Graham has fled with her
Not surprisingly, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall – a hard-hitting critique of the position of Victorian women in society – shocked contemporary readers. Both critics and readers alike were stunned by its coarseness. Truthfully, though I am not a stranger to the plight of Victorian women, the novel still retains its power to shock, or in the very least disturb. A most memorable passage on a “confiscation of property”:
"My painting materials were laid together on the corner table, ready for to-morrow’s use, and only covered with a cloth. He soon spied them out, and putting down the candle, deliberately proceeded to cast them into the fire: palette, paints, bladders, pencils, brushes, varnish: I saw them all consumed: the palette-knives snapped in two, the oil and turpentine sent hissing and roaring up the chimney. He then rang the bell.
'Benson, take those things away,’ said he, pointing to the easel, canvas, and stretcher; ‘and tell the housemaid she may kindle the fire with them: your mistress won’t want them any more.'" (Ch 40)
But I do not wish to leave prospective readers with the impression that all is gloom and doom in The Tenant – such is not the case at all! Other central themes in the novel include the power of faith, forgiveness, repentance – and “the infectious theme of love.” (Ch 51) Highly recommended, particularly to lovers of Victorian classics.
Show More
young son, Arthur, from a cruel marriage. Her writings tell the story of the physical and moral decay of her husband, his alcoholism, and their marital breakdown. In order to be spared the unbearable pain of watching her son be raised in his father’s image, Helen has done what was unimaginable to the Victorian woman and has fled both husband and home. Under an assumed name, she travels to a location that remains secret from all but her brother.Not surprisingly, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall – a hard-hitting critique of the position of Victorian women in society – shocked contemporary readers. Both critics and readers alike were stunned by its coarseness. Truthfully, though I am not a stranger to the plight of Victorian women, the novel still retains its power to shock, or in the very least disturb. A most memorable passage on a “confiscation of property”:
"My painting materials were laid together on the corner table, ready for to-morrow’s use, and only covered with a cloth. He soon spied them out, and putting down the candle, deliberately proceeded to cast them into the fire: palette, paints, bladders, pencils, brushes, varnish: I saw them all consumed: the palette-knives snapped in two, the oil and turpentine sent hissing and roaring up the chimney. He then rang the bell.
'Benson, take those things away,’ said he, pointing to the easel, canvas, and stretcher; ‘and tell the housemaid she may kindle the fire with them: your mistress won’t want them any more.'" (Ch 40)
But I do not wish to leave prospective readers with the impression that all is gloom and doom in The Tenant – such is not the case at all! Other central themes in the novel include the power of faith, forgiveness, repentance – and “the infectious theme of love.” (Ch 51) Highly recommended, particularly to lovers of Victorian classics.
Show Less
LibraryThing member glade1
So much of this story paralleled my experience of marriage that it is hard to believe the author never was married or that it was written in a different age. Of course, the social customs are different in this story, but the human experience doesn't seem to change throughout the generations.Helen
The bulk of the book is Helen's journal, which tells of a journey from the innocent, optimistic newlywed to a mature woman who chooses to take her child and flee from an intolerable marriage. Despite her aunt's warnings to keep her eyes open and make sure to marry a man who is upright and stable (and haven't many of us heard that same warning?), Helen believes she has found the ideal mate in Arthur Huntingdon. Although Arthur runs with a wild crowd, Helen is certain he will settle down once they are married and that she will be a positive influence on Arthur. As the years pass, and particularly after their child is born, Helen realizes that Arthur has not changed and may have become even worse. He drinks to excess, has affairs, and is verbally abusive toward his wife. His health begins to deteriorate. In the company of his friends, Helen becomes the butt of jokes, as the men consider her to bee too pious and too much of a nag. Helen's main concern, however, is the influence of the men on her son.
Apparently early critics of this story found the depiction of the dysfunctional home too unsettling, and many feared the strong feminine character. In her introduction to the second edition, Bronte defends her novel as being true and says that society, women in particular, need to be made aware of the pitfalls of naivete. The character of Arthur Huntingdon does not resort to physical violence against his wife or child, which might have pushed the story over the edge to melodrama; the verbal abuse and mind games he plays are truer to life and so accurately wrought that they may actually be more effective in making the point.
Even though this book was written more than a century ago, it spoke to me on a personal level, and I imagine it would have a similar effect on a lot of modern readers. Although women certainly have more freedom and independence today, many of Helen's experiences still ring true. I myself wore rose-colored glasses into my marriage and experienced the disillusionment of finding my husband to be callous and unwilling to compromise. I too struggled with how to raise children to respect their father without becoming like him. I felt the same worries about how to support myself and my children if I should leave. It is likely that many modern readers have had similar experiences, because human nature doesn't change substantially, even if culture does. I found myself marking a lot of passages that had particular resonance for me:
Principle is the first thing, after all; and next to that, good sense, respectability, and moderate wealth. If you should marry the handsomest, and most accomplished and superficially agreeable man in the world, you little know the misery that would overwhelm you if, after all, you should find him to be a worthless reprobate, or even an impracticable fool.
+++
Arthur is not what is commonly called a bad man: he has many good qualities; but he is a man without self-restraint or lofty aspirations--a lover of pleasure, given up to animal enjoyments: he is not a bad husband, but his notion of matrimonial duties and comforts are not my notions.
+++
I had my darling, sinless, inoffensive little one to console me, but even this consolation was embittered by the constantly recurring thought, "How shall I teach him, hereafter, to respect his father, and yet to avoid his example?"
+++
Things that formerly shocked and disgusted me, now seem only natural. I know them to be wrong, because reason and God's word delcare them to be so; but I am gradually losing that instinctive horror and repulsion which was given my by nature, or instilled into me by the precepts and example of my aunt. Perhaps, then, I was too severe in my judgments, for I abhorred the sinner as well as the sin; now, I flatter myself I am more charitable and considerate, but am I not becoming more indifferent and insensate too? Fool that I was to dream I had strength and purity enough to save myself and him!
+++
...[H]ow shall I get through the months or years of my future life, in company with that man--my greatest enemy--for none could injure me as he has done? Oh! When I think how fondly, how foolishly I have loved him, how madly I have trusted him, and struggled for his advantage; and how cruelly he has trampled on my love, betrayed my trust, scorned my prayers and tears, and efforts for his preservation--crushed my hopes, destroyed my youth's best feelings, and doomed me to a life of hopeless misery--as far as man can do it--it is not enough to say that I no longer love my husband--I HATE him!
+++
...I have had nine weeks' experience of this new phase of conjugal life--two persons living together, as master and mistress of the house, and father and mother of a winsome, merry little child, with the mutual understanding that there is no love, friendship, or sympathy between them.
+++
I do not advise you to marry for love alone--there are many, many other things to be considered. Keep both heart and hand in your own possession, till you see good reason to part with them; and if such an occasion should never present itself, comfort your mind with this reflection: that, though in single life your joys may not be very many, your sorrows at least will not be more than you can bear.
The introduction to this volume emphasizes Bronte's theme of raising a child correctly, but my focus on reading was the experience of marriage. I believe this is an excellent portrait of a relationship gone wrong. If the novel has any weaknesses, I think they are in the framing story: the love affair between Gilbert and Helen does not seem as genuine, although Gilbert's relationship with little Arthur is illustrated beautifully, and Helen's return to nurse her sick husband seemed sudden and a little TOO pious. But these facets do allow for the story to have a happy ending, which I found satisfying.Overall, I loved this book and am glad I finally read one of the youngest Bronte sister's novels.
Show More
Graham and her small son, along with one servant, arrive as tenants in Wildfell Hall and the county's residents are fascinated by her. She is purported to be a widow, but can we be sure? Tongues begin wagging as she is seen in the company of a single man, her landlord. Gilbert Markham, who has fallen in love with Helen, is loath to believe the rumors until he witnesses what he believes is a romantic encounter between Helen and the other man. Helen shares her journal with Gilbert and he learns her true story.The bulk of the book is Helen's journal, which tells of a journey from the innocent, optimistic newlywed to a mature woman who chooses to take her child and flee from an intolerable marriage. Despite her aunt's warnings to keep her eyes open and make sure to marry a man who is upright and stable (and haven't many of us heard that same warning?), Helen believes she has found the ideal mate in Arthur Huntingdon. Although Arthur runs with a wild crowd, Helen is certain he will settle down once they are married and that she will be a positive influence on Arthur. As the years pass, and particularly after their child is born, Helen realizes that Arthur has not changed and may have become even worse. He drinks to excess, has affairs, and is verbally abusive toward his wife. His health begins to deteriorate. In the company of his friends, Helen becomes the butt of jokes, as the men consider her to bee too pious and too much of a nag. Helen's main concern, however, is the influence of the men on her son.
Apparently early critics of this story found the depiction of the dysfunctional home too unsettling, and many feared the strong feminine character. In her introduction to the second edition, Bronte defends her novel as being true and says that society, women in particular, need to be made aware of the pitfalls of naivete. The character of Arthur Huntingdon does not resort to physical violence against his wife or child, which might have pushed the story over the edge to melodrama; the verbal abuse and mind games he plays are truer to life and so accurately wrought that they may actually be more effective in making the point.
Even though this book was written more than a century ago, it spoke to me on a personal level, and I imagine it would have a similar effect on a lot of modern readers. Although women certainly have more freedom and independence today, many of Helen's experiences still ring true. I myself wore rose-colored glasses into my marriage and experienced the disillusionment of finding my husband to be callous and unwilling to compromise. I too struggled with how to raise children to respect their father without becoming like him. I felt the same worries about how to support myself and my children if I should leave. It is likely that many modern readers have had similar experiences, because human nature doesn't change substantially, even if culture does. I found myself marking a lot of passages that had particular resonance for me:
Principle is the first thing, after all; and next to that, good sense, respectability, and moderate wealth. If you should marry the handsomest, and most accomplished and superficially agreeable man in the world, you little know the misery that would overwhelm you if, after all, you should find him to be a worthless reprobate, or even an impracticable fool.
+++
Arthur is not what is commonly called a bad man: he has many good qualities; but he is a man without self-restraint or lofty aspirations--a lover of pleasure, given up to animal enjoyments: he is not a bad husband, but his notion of matrimonial duties and comforts are not my notions.
+++
I had my darling, sinless, inoffensive little one to console me, but even this consolation was embittered by the constantly recurring thought, "How shall I teach him, hereafter, to respect his father, and yet to avoid his example?"
+++
Things that formerly shocked and disgusted me, now seem only natural. I know them to be wrong, because reason and God's word delcare them to be so; but I am gradually losing that instinctive horror and repulsion which was given my by nature, or instilled into me by the precepts and example of my aunt. Perhaps, then, I was too severe in my judgments, for I abhorred the sinner as well as the sin; now, I flatter myself I am more charitable and considerate, but am I not becoming more indifferent and insensate too? Fool that I was to dream I had strength and purity enough to save myself and him!
+++
...[H]ow shall I get through the months or years of my future life, in company with that man--my greatest enemy--for none could injure me as he has done? Oh! When I think how fondly, how foolishly I have loved him, how madly I have trusted him, and struggled for his advantage; and how cruelly he has trampled on my love, betrayed my trust, scorned my prayers and tears, and efforts for his preservation--crushed my hopes, destroyed my youth's best feelings, and doomed me to a life of hopeless misery--as far as man can do it--it is not enough to say that I no longer love my husband--I HATE him!
+++
...I have had nine weeks' experience of this new phase of conjugal life--two persons living together, as master and mistress of the house, and father and mother of a winsome, merry little child, with the mutual understanding that there is no love, friendship, or sympathy between them.
+++
I do not advise you to marry for love alone--there are many, many other things to be considered. Keep both heart and hand in your own possession, till you see good reason to part with them; and if such an occasion should never present itself, comfort your mind with this reflection: that, though in single life your joys may not be very many, your sorrows at least will not be more than you can bear.
The introduction to this volume emphasizes Bronte's theme of raising a child correctly, but my focus on reading was the experience of marriage. I believe this is an excellent portrait of a relationship gone wrong. If the novel has any weaknesses, I think they are in the framing story: the love affair between Gilbert and Helen does not seem as genuine, although Gilbert's relationship with little Arthur is illustrated beautifully, and Helen's return to nurse her sick husband seemed sudden and a little TOO pious. But these facets do allow for the story to have a happy ending, which I found satisfying.Overall, I loved this book and am glad I finally read one of the youngest Bronte sister's novels.
Show Less
LibraryThing member readingwithtea
TToWH has an unusual and intriguing structure – the outer layer is written as a string of letters from a man to his brother-in-law (daring, perhaps, on Anne Brontë’s part, to assume the voice of a man?). Approximately halfway through, he quotes a diary written by the female protagonist over a
According to the endnotes in my Penguin Classics edition, Brontë’s novel was a very early, if not the first, novel to deal with substance abuse among the upper classes. Clearly not one to shy away from controversial topics, she also touches on raising children and the worth of ambition. I don’t know what is was that inspired Brontë to depict an unhappy marriage in such detail, but it is certainly credible – and goes one step further than merely describing the subject matter, demanding that the reader ask themselves what is right, what is permissible.
There are the usual Austen-like illustrations of domesticity – the nuances of courtship, an amusing description of the pontificating vicar, the nature of English beauty (very different from that which is desired today!), repeated depictions of women as nosy gossips whose contribution to society from the kitchen is undervalued and really quite a lot about hair.
An excellent book, just beating Mansfield Park to the place of “favourite book so far”.
Show More
number of years verbatim, for most of the rest of the book. The prose is also extraordinarily detailed in the first section – but the male narrator has already indicated that his will be a detailed missive.According to the endnotes in my Penguin Classics edition, Brontë’s novel was a very early, if not the first, novel to deal with substance abuse among the upper classes. Clearly not one to shy away from controversial topics, she also touches on raising children and the worth of ambition. I don’t know what is was that inspired Brontë to depict an unhappy marriage in such detail, but it is certainly credible – and goes one step further than merely describing the subject matter, demanding that the reader ask themselves what is right, what is permissible.
There are the usual Austen-like illustrations of domesticity – the nuances of courtship, an amusing description of the pontificating vicar, the nature of English beauty (very different from that which is desired today!), repeated depictions of women as nosy gossips whose contribution to society from the kitchen is undervalued and really quite a lot about hair.
An excellent book, just beating Mansfield Park to the place of “favourite book so far”.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Rosa_Saks
Anne was the only one of the Brontë-sisters whom I was not familiar with, and that is why I wanted to read The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. I half expected her to resemble her sisters in style and thematics, and she partly did. However, I was surprised (and excited) to discover that the story of Helen
Our heroine, Helen, has experienced an unhappy marriage - one that she got into when she was very young, in fact, too young to really comprehend the effects it would have on her life. Mr. Huntingdon, who seemed wonderful and loving at first, soon revealed himself to be quite the opposite. It is refreshing to read a book where the true nature of the average Victorian marriage is revealed with all its positive and negative sides. It really makes me think of the difficulty in marrying someone one barely knows, and all of a sudden being supposed to have breakfast together, go to social events together, in geneal; plan a life together.
Helen is not a Jane or a Catherine. She is a heroine in her own right. She is strong, hopeful, kind and determined. And the Tenant of Wildfell Hall is a powerful rendering of the sometimes grim nature of Victorian marriage.
Show More
Graham/Huntingdon was not a powerful and all-consuming love story with an almost gothic backdrop. Rather, Anne Brontë places heavy empahsis on realism, and the fact that marriage in the Victorian era was not always as romantical as it often tends to be portrayed.Our heroine, Helen, has experienced an unhappy marriage - one that she got into when she was very young, in fact, too young to really comprehend the effects it would have on her life. Mr. Huntingdon, who seemed wonderful and loving at first, soon revealed himself to be quite the opposite. It is refreshing to read a book where the true nature of the average Victorian marriage is revealed with all its positive and negative sides. It really makes me think of the difficulty in marrying someone one barely knows, and all of a sudden being supposed to have breakfast together, go to social events together, in geneal; plan a life together.
Helen is not a Jane or a Catherine. She is a heroine in her own right. She is strong, hopeful, kind and determined. And the Tenant of Wildfell Hall is a powerful rendering of the sometimes grim nature of Victorian marriage.
Show Less
LibraryThing member PhilSyphe
Anne Brontë was an author capable of producing vivid scenes and believable characters. You can picture everything clearly. owing to Anne’s superb writing skills. I consider this woman to be a genius.
This is the first novel I read with a twin narrative. To begin with, we have first-person
Anne shows – and mean “shows”, not “tells” – us the hearts and minds of these two principle characters. You feel what they feel; see what they see. You sense the oppression of being in a home where you can’t be happy, or even at ease. This is one of few books I’ve read that has left strong impressions of certain scenes in my mind like memories.
The way this gifted author conveys emotion is impeccable. Sometimes it’s a simple thing, like showing Helen’s annoyance with Gilbert as she flicks through some pages without reading them – creative writing at its best.
This is essentially a love story, but it has great depth, and is by no means your average boy-meets-girl story. Lots of conflict and heartache feature along the way.
The theme of drinking too much is didactic but this in no way proves irritating to a modern reader – not to this one, anyway. Anyone familiar enough with Brontë history will know that Anne’s brother died through his addiction to drink, so it’s understandable that she’d want to dissuade others from following the same path via the means she knows best – her pen. Again, this doesn’t detract from the story. In fact, it strengthens it.
The “bad boys” of the story are led by Arthur Huntingdon. Arthur is a despicable character, to whom it’s hard to feel any sympathy for. Same can be said for his cohort Grimsby. Hargrave is more likable, but having said that, he’s still something of a sly creep. Hattersley, on the other hand, I found rather likable, especially as Helen’s narrative progresses.
I first read “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” in 2010 as part of a module during the second year of my BA degree. All the books I’d studied beforehand paled compared to this literary masterpiece. I was so absorbed by it that I chose this and Charlotte Brontë’s “Villette” as my essay for the module’s assessment, which meant reading both these books a second time only a few months after my first reading. This was no chore.
Ten years after reading “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” for a second time, I decided to pay tribute to Anne Brontë on her 200th birthday in January 2020 by reading it again. This is one of few books I’ve read more than twice (not counting the likes of Mr Men stories, which I read repeatedly when I was a boy). Pleased to say that I once again enjoyed my experience of this classic novel.
When some people talk about the Brontë sisters, they refer to Anne as “the other one”. I refer to Anne as “the best one”. Her writing style is notably different to her sisters Charlotte and Emily, who both write romantic fiction. Anne was a realist author, and a damn good one at that.
This is the first novel I read with a twin narrative. To begin with, we have first-person
Show More
narration from the lead male character Gilbert Markham, followed by the first-person narrative of the lead female character Helen Graham/Huntingdon, and finally it’s back to Markham again. This approach works incredibly well.Anne shows – and mean “shows”, not “tells” – us the hearts and minds of these two principle characters. You feel what they feel; see what they see. You sense the oppression of being in a home where you can’t be happy, or even at ease. This is one of few books I’ve read that has left strong impressions of certain scenes in my mind like memories.
The way this gifted author conveys emotion is impeccable. Sometimes it’s a simple thing, like showing Helen’s annoyance with Gilbert as she flicks through some pages without reading them – creative writing at its best.
This is essentially a love story, but it has great depth, and is by no means your average boy-meets-girl story. Lots of conflict and heartache feature along the way.
The theme of drinking too much is didactic but this in no way proves irritating to a modern reader – not to this one, anyway. Anyone familiar enough with Brontë history will know that Anne’s brother died through his addiction to drink, so it’s understandable that she’d want to dissuade others from following the same path via the means she knows best – her pen. Again, this doesn’t detract from the story. In fact, it strengthens it.
The “bad boys” of the story are led by Arthur Huntingdon. Arthur is a despicable character, to whom it’s hard to feel any sympathy for. Same can be said for his cohort Grimsby. Hargrave is more likable, but having said that, he’s still something of a sly creep. Hattersley, on the other hand, I found rather likable, especially as Helen’s narrative progresses.
I first read “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” in 2010 as part of a module during the second year of my BA degree. All the books I’d studied beforehand paled compared to this literary masterpiece. I was so absorbed by it that I chose this and Charlotte Brontë’s “Villette” as my essay for the module’s assessment, which meant reading both these books a second time only a few months after my first reading. This was no chore.
Ten years after reading “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” for a second time, I decided to pay tribute to Anne Brontë on her 200th birthday in January 2020 by reading it again. This is one of few books I’ve read more than twice (not counting the likes of Mr Men stories, which I read repeatedly when I was a boy). Pleased to say that I once again enjoyed my experience of this classic novel.
When some people talk about the Brontë sisters, they refer to Anne as “the other one”. I refer to Anne as “the best one”. Her writing style is notably different to her sisters Charlotte and Emily, who both write romantic fiction. Anne was a realist author, and a damn good one at that.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Wanderlust_Lost
Anne Brontë's mesmerising tale of the mysterious tennant of Wildfell Hall is, in my opinion, the finest novel produced by any of the Brontë sisters.
Helen Graham is a young, widowed mother who arrives one winter to take up residence in an old Yorkshire manorhouse at the courtesy of the
And is Mrs. Graham's story really all it seems? Is she really Mrs. Graham at all? Is her husband really dead? Is her relationship with Mr. Lawrence as innocent as Gilbert hopes?
Unlike most of my reviews I decline to give away even the first thing in this novel. This book is too delicious to be spoil it in true book-review-style. I found this book immediately engaging from the first. I had just finished another, heavier Victorian tale of scandal (albeit much later Victorian) and I was afraid that I would need a few days to get used to "Tennant" before I really got interested, but it sucked me in from page one. It starts with a letter from the aforementioned Gilbert Markham to his brother-in-law in which he begins to unravel the story of the mysterious Mrs. Graham.
I read it surprisingly quickly considering that in the last week I have been working late hours, and I was too ill for most of it to do anything. It took me 4 days to read 60 pages, (not the book's fault!) and then I read the rest of the 320 pages in two days. Amazing read. And now takes its place as my favourite Brontë novel.
Helen Graham is a young, widowed mother who arrives one winter to take up residence in an old Yorkshire manorhouse at the courtesy of the
Show More
neighbourhood's resident gentleman Frederick Lawrence. But when proud, independent, self-assured Mrs. Graham doesn't conform to the common convention of the day, exhibits unusual, albeit laudable, ideas on childrearing and a woman's place in society she invites the jealousy and the distrust of the local misses. And when the relationship between Mrs. Graham and Lawrence is rumoured to be more than that of tennant and landlord (much to the chagrin of Lawrence's erstwhile admirer, one of the aforementioned misses, which sparks another volley of venomous gossip) will Mrs. Graham's newfound admirer Gilbert Markham, local farmer and hopelessly in love with the aloof, raven haired beauty, defend her honour and refuse to believe, or will his reaction be altogether less noble?And is Mrs. Graham's story really all it seems? Is she really Mrs. Graham at all? Is her husband really dead? Is her relationship with Mr. Lawrence as innocent as Gilbert hopes?
Unlike most of my reviews I decline to give away even the first thing in this novel. This book is too delicious to be spoil it in true book-review-style. I found this book immediately engaging from the first. I had just finished another, heavier Victorian tale of scandal (albeit much later Victorian) and I was afraid that I would need a few days to get used to "Tennant" before I really got interested, but it sucked me in from page one. It starts with a letter from the aforementioned Gilbert Markham to his brother-in-law in which he begins to unravel the story of the mysterious Mrs. Graham.
I read it surprisingly quickly considering that in the last week I have been working late hours, and I was too ill for most of it to do anything. It took me 4 days to read 60 pages, (not the book's fault!) and then I read the rest of the 320 pages in two days. Amazing read. And now takes its place as my favourite Brontë novel.
Show Less
LibraryThing member kaionvin
Better than Jane Eyre.
I appreciate Anne Bronte's realistic takedown of the romantic concept of the Byronic hero. Newsflash: sexy alcoholic jerkass who plays mind games with you? He'll still be a alcoholic jackass when y'all be married and the mind games won't be so sexy when it's no longer a
Unfortunately Anne Bronte doesn't really make the book more nuanced than this message, and it's one that hasn't aged particularly well. Women have rights to their own property, women have rights to their own children, women should have the right to divorce their husbands aren't sentiments that have been particularly shocking for, oh, 50 years. The characters aren't particularly well-developed beyond their representative value. Helen, the titular tenant, in particular is obnoxiously moral and adds to the overall didactic tone of the novel. Combine that with two unnecessary framing devices, tired attempts at making the story suspenseful, and too much pointless nattering about countryside living and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall feels exactly that: Unnecessary. A footnote in the history of literary feminism rather than essential, living document.
I appreciate Anne Bronte's realistic takedown of the romantic concept of the Byronic hero. Newsflash: sexy alcoholic jerkass who plays mind games with you? He'll still be a alcoholic jackass when y'all be married and the mind games won't be so sexy when it's no longer a
Show More
flirtation tactic but one of marital warfare.Unfortunately Anne Bronte doesn't really make the book more nuanced than this message, and it's one that hasn't aged particularly well. Women have rights to their own property, women have rights to their own children, women should have the right to divorce their husbands aren't sentiments that have been particularly shocking for, oh, 50 years. The characters aren't particularly well-developed beyond their representative value. Helen, the titular tenant, in particular is obnoxiously moral and adds to the overall didactic tone of the novel. Combine that with two unnecessary framing devices, tired attempts at making the story suspenseful, and too much pointless nattering about countryside living and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall feels exactly that: Unnecessary. A footnote in the history of literary feminism rather than essential, living document.
Show Less
LibraryThing member littlebookworm
This is a wonderful book and a prime example of Victorian literature. I loved every word, and though the ending was predictable, it was extremely well done. The novel's significance definitely lies in the way that Anne Bronte describes the position of women in society; she revealed far more than
Show More
the ordinary novelist would have. This portrait of society is what will ensure the novel lasts, but I sincerely hope that all readers of this work appreciate the story itself as much as I do. Show Less
LibraryThing member ctpress
Helen Graham rents the small cottage Wildfell Hall and move in there with her little son and the faithful maid-servant.. People in the small village are curious. Who is she? What is her background. She’s evidently a widow - but not very eager to share about her life. And of course all kinds of
The young farmer Gilberg Markham falls in love with her - and starts to win her confidence. She will reveal her past to him in a long diary that takes up most part of the novel. She is in fact married to Arthur Huntingdon - a very mean and vile kind of husband and father.
It is at times painful reading, and no surprise the public was chocked at the detailed glimpse into this bleak portrayal of marital tragedy - which includes the detrimental effects of alcohol, adultury and bad friends.
I liked this second reading even better than the first. Also I would recommend the BBC tv-series adaptation from 1996 with Tara Fitzgerald as Helen Graham.
Show More
rumors starts going around in the nosy little community.The young farmer Gilberg Markham falls in love with her - and starts to win her confidence. She will reveal her past to him in a long diary that takes up most part of the novel. She is in fact married to Arthur Huntingdon - a very mean and vile kind of husband and father.
It is at times painful reading, and no surprise the public was chocked at the detailed glimpse into this bleak portrayal of marital tragedy - which includes the detrimental effects of alcohol, adultury and bad friends.
I liked this second reading even better than the first. Also I would recommend the BBC tv-series adaptation from 1996 with Tara Fitzgerald as Helen Graham.
Show Less
LibraryThing member greenalida
This is a little known book by the little known Bronte sister, Anne. It is also one of my personal favorites. Written in the epistolary style, it is the tale of Gilbert Markham, the girl he falls in love with, and her story.
LibraryThing member StoutHearted
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is one of the least-studied novels of the Bronte sisters, but perhaps the most realistic. It doesn’t have those happy coincidences that were a beloved trope of Charlotte's, nor the over-romanticized male hero of Emily’s "Wuthering Heights." In fact, it’s almost a
The novel has two narrators: The first, Gilbert Markham, is a gentleman farmer of modest means who writes a letter in which he describes the story of the mysterious lady who moved into Wildfell Hall. In the middle of his tale, he is privy to read this lady’s journal, and the novel switches to her own narration of her turbulent past for many chapters. The lady calls herself Helen Graham, and when she moves into the neighborhood with her son and no husband, (and no desire to discuss her past), it causes gossipy tongues to wag. At first put off by her aloof manner, Gilbert eventually falls for her, but the strain of neighborhood gossip becomes too much and even he becomes suspicious, especially towards her landlord Mr. Lawrence, with whom she may or may not have a deeper relationship. It turns out that Helen loves Gilbert, too, so she sets to ease his mind by telling him all and lets him read her diary. It exposes a past filled with naivete, domestic abuse, and cruelty, and explains who Helen really is, why she must be so mysterious, and ultimately exposes her true character.
Like most Bronte heroes, Gilbert’s character is marked by whining and selfishness. And like most Bronte heroines, it is Helen who has the best character: strong, steadfast, spiritually solid, and with a pragmatic acceptance of her lot in life, as well as her duty towards others. Though others may judge her, she lives a blemish-free life among drunks, adulterers, seducers, and spiritually-lacking, morally-deficient, gossiping, deceitful people. First, she puts up with her abusive husband out of a misguided attempt to make him a better man by her example. When she realizes how out of her league she is, her epiphany "I am no angel!" serves to remind her more that she is a mere mortal, and can only put up with him now out of the imposed societal code that dictates a woman is a man’s property. Her duty is to him, and his duty is to himself alone. There are no laws to protect her, and the rules of society deem that women who leave their husbands (for whatever reason) are considered to have lost their virtue. Second, she puts up with a town that demands her time and attention, and spreads lies about her for not exposing her past.
Bronte does well skewering the hypocritical nature of early 19th century society. Although a very religious book – it quotes prodigiously from the Bible, and Helen maintains her trust in God and her morals throughout when others would tempt her away – it does not exempt the clergy from criticism. The Reverend Millward is a booze-loving clergyman who’s more concerned with appearances than true spiritual morality. His daughter, Eliza, is jealous, spiteful, and quick to spread unfounded vicious rumors. The small-town characters are themselves skewed as a busybody, gossiping lot, who seek to torment their neighbors for their own pleasure, shunning them if they seem less than worthy. Then there’s the upperclass gentlemen, men who leave the business of running their land to others while they cavort like playboys indulging in every vice. They are permitted to behave in the worst ways imaginable, and their wives are expected to put up with it. Any poor behavior upon his part would surely be blamed as a character flaw on her part. This lack of responsibility for one’s actions is a common motif throughout the novel – even Helen succumbs to it. When she defends her decision to marry Mr. Huntington, a known scoundrel, she blames his bad behavior on his parents. Later, Mr. Huntington blames his bad behavior on Helen: he drinks because she nags, because she treats him coldly when he disappears for months at a time, he has affairs because Helen is a bad wife, etc. To the end, Mr. Huntington refuses to accept any responsibility for the position he has put himself in.
As in Bronte’s earlier work, "Agnes Grey," the author seems determined to portray an unvarnished account of life and what women suffer. In Agnes Grey, we saw the lot of the governess, and the cruel treatment she received. "The Tenant" exposed the lot of the wife, especially the wife tethered to an unfaithful, abusive husband. No matter what is done to her, Helen cannot divorce her husband. She is his property and nothing, not the wages she earns nor the child she bears, legally belongs to her. It is a cruel lot in life, blowing the lid off the romantic perception of the 19th century gentleman as a romantic hero. If you ever read "Wuthering Heights" and were disturbed by Heathcliff, or maybe to some extent by Jane Eyre’s Rochester, this book will be a vindication to your thoughts.
Show More
rebuttal to the latter, and a damning portrayal of Heathcliff-like character as if through Isabella Linton’s eyes. The brutal Gothic hero is exposed as a selfish, ruinous burden, while those who are forced to put up with such a jerk get the recognition they deserve. It’s hailed as a feminist novel, though modern feminists may critique the lengths to which Helen goes to serve her duty as a wife.The novel has two narrators: The first, Gilbert Markham, is a gentleman farmer of modest means who writes a letter in which he describes the story of the mysterious lady who moved into Wildfell Hall. In the middle of his tale, he is privy to read this lady’s journal, and the novel switches to her own narration of her turbulent past for many chapters. The lady calls herself Helen Graham, and when she moves into the neighborhood with her son and no husband, (and no desire to discuss her past), it causes gossipy tongues to wag. At first put off by her aloof manner, Gilbert eventually falls for her, but the strain of neighborhood gossip becomes too much and even he becomes suspicious, especially towards her landlord Mr. Lawrence, with whom she may or may not have a deeper relationship. It turns out that Helen loves Gilbert, too, so she sets to ease his mind by telling him all and lets him read her diary. It exposes a past filled with naivete, domestic abuse, and cruelty, and explains who Helen really is, why she must be so mysterious, and ultimately exposes her true character.
Like most Bronte heroes, Gilbert’s character is marked by whining and selfishness. And like most Bronte heroines, it is Helen who has the best character: strong, steadfast, spiritually solid, and with a pragmatic acceptance of her lot in life, as well as her duty towards others. Though others may judge her, she lives a blemish-free life among drunks, adulterers, seducers, and spiritually-lacking, morally-deficient, gossiping, deceitful people. First, she puts up with her abusive husband out of a misguided attempt to make him a better man by her example. When she realizes how out of her league she is, her epiphany "I am no angel!" serves to remind her more that she is a mere mortal, and can only put up with him now out of the imposed societal code that dictates a woman is a man’s property. Her duty is to him, and his duty is to himself alone. There are no laws to protect her, and the rules of society deem that women who leave their husbands (for whatever reason) are considered to have lost their virtue. Second, she puts up with a town that demands her time and attention, and spreads lies about her for not exposing her past.
Bronte does well skewering the hypocritical nature of early 19th century society. Although a very religious book – it quotes prodigiously from the Bible, and Helen maintains her trust in God and her morals throughout when others would tempt her away – it does not exempt the clergy from criticism. The Reverend Millward is a booze-loving clergyman who’s more concerned with appearances than true spiritual morality. His daughter, Eliza, is jealous, spiteful, and quick to spread unfounded vicious rumors. The small-town characters are themselves skewed as a busybody, gossiping lot, who seek to torment their neighbors for their own pleasure, shunning them if they seem less than worthy. Then there’s the upperclass gentlemen, men who leave the business of running their land to others while they cavort like playboys indulging in every vice. They are permitted to behave in the worst ways imaginable, and their wives are expected to put up with it. Any poor behavior upon his part would surely be blamed as a character flaw on her part. This lack of responsibility for one’s actions is a common motif throughout the novel – even Helen succumbs to it. When she defends her decision to marry Mr. Huntington, a known scoundrel, she blames his bad behavior on his parents. Later, Mr. Huntington blames his bad behavior on Helen: he drinks because she nags, because she treats him coldly when he disappears for months at a time, he has affairs because Helen is a bad wife, etc. To the end, Mr. Huntington refuses to accept any responsibility for the position he has put himself in.
As in Bronte’s earlier work, "Agnes Grey," the author seems determined to portray an unvarnished account of life and what women suffer. In Agnes Grey, we saw the lot of the governess, and the cruel treatment she received. "The Tenant" exposed the lot of the wife, especially the wife tethered to an unfaithful, abusive husband. No matter what is done to her, Helen cannot divorce her husband. She is his property and nothing, not the wages she earns nor the child she bears, legally belongs to her. It is a cruel lot in life, blowing the lid off the romantic perception of the 19th century gentleman as a romantic hero. If you ever read "Wuthering Heights" and were disturbed by Heathcliff, or maybe to some extent by Jane Eyre’s Rochester, this book will be a vindication to your thoughts.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Scarlett0Hara
At first I did not enjoy Wildfell Hall, but, oh boy, am I glad I had a long tedious train journey to Scotland! I ended up devouring the whole thing. Anne Bronte should be as well known as Charlotte and Emily, but I can see why the novel would not have been popular upon publication in the eighteenth
Show More
century. She depicted Helen as a woman living well before her times. I couldn't believe that a woman living then would even think like she did, and want women's rights which were denied by many long after Anne Bronte's time - like equality in a marriage and a husband who appreciated her worth. I could understand completely why Charlotte Bronte was said to have disliked the novel so much; after all, the depiction of Arthur Graham, dying of self-induced alcohol poisoning, must have filled her soul with terror; it was like seeing the death of her brother Banwell all over again and basically putting her family on show. Also, the justifiable exasperation has been commented by many as to Helen's piety - oh, she was such a little Miss Goody Two-Shoes that I found myself wishing she would materialise from the book so I could throw it at her. The novel in some ways has an astounding black-and-white naivety about it, and I wished I lived in Helen's world, where good triumphed over evil . . .oh, but I've given too much away already. Show Less
LibraryThing member Luli81
Great surprise!
Anne Brönte puts herself up to Charlotte's standards with this magnificent novel. It has everything a romantic classic ought to have and it's presented in a mysterious style in which you don't know what is going to happen until the final page.
Highly recommended.
Anne Brönte puts herself up to Charlotte's standards with this magnificent novel. It has everything a romantic classic ought to have and it's presented in a mysterious style in which you don't know what is going to happen until the final page.
Highly recommended.
LibraryThing member anna_battista
I read this book again recently after a gap of about 10 years and could not believe how good it is. I remembered it as dull and unoriginal, I was astonished and delighted to discover it was passionate, modern, brave, beautifully written and dominated by the powerfully touching character of Helen
Show More
Huntingdon, now one of my favourite fictional heroines. The plot captivated me from the beginning and I couldn't put the book down. I'm a huge fan of the Bronte sisters but always used to favour Charlotte and Emily; now I give Anne her rightful place at her sisters' side. Show Less
LibraryThing member SusieBookworm
"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
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 unlike some of the twists and little gothic details of Charlotte's work.
Show More
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 unlike some of the twists and little gothic details of Charlotte's work.
Show Less
LibraryThing member MHelm1017
I think it is quite possible that this novel is more modern and realistic than either of the most famous works of Anne Bronte's sisters, and I speak as one who has read and been fascinated by "Jane Eyre" and "Wuthering Heights" many times. "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall" has all of the emotional
Show More
intensity and harrowing suspense of the other two books, while dealing with comparatively ordinary (and complex) people and situations which could be all too common in this or any other time and place. Show Less
LibraryThing member Eat_Read_Knit
In summary - I loved this book. I didn't like all the characters - good grief, were some of them annoying - but I really liked the book.
It took me quite a long time to read: while I was reading it, I was really into it; once I put it down, it was a little difficult to pick up again. I was
(But really? Writing that in her journal while her husband was in the room? Even if she thought he was asleep? Behold - an original early Victorian example of a TSTL heroine! Good grief.)
The language of the book is rich and evocative, and the characters deftly painted. No punches are pulled in commenting critically on the inequality between men and women, and the double standards pertaining to marriage both in society and in law. For some modern readers, I suspect that the extent to which Helen's faith pervades her musings in her journal and the vast array of biblical references would be off-putting. The book would simply seem too religious. For me, this was a bonus, because it made me question the extent to which my own faith affects my actions.
Despite having taken so long to get to the end of it, this was one of those books that made me want to turn back to page one and begin all over again. It was just... edible.
It took me quite a long time to read: while I was reading it, I was really into it; once I put it down, it was a little difficult to pick up again. I was
Show More
fascinated by the structure, by the diary and letters inside other letters, and the way the commentary from Markham jumped about. It was intriguing to have Helen's commentary on her marriage nestled inside Markham's commentary on his relationship with Helen. I didn't always like Helen, but I admired her commitment to her marriage, her commitment to her son, and her commitment to her faith. I was gripped by the way Brontë showed her characters getting to know one another and discovering what they were really like, and how the relationships changed and developed. Not just Helen and her husband, but also Markham and Helen, Markham and Lawrence, and the many secondary characters.(But really? Writing that in her journal while her husband was in the room? Even if she thought he was asleep? Behold - an original early Victorian example of a TSTL heroine! Good grief.)
The language of the book is rich and evocative, and the characters deftly painted. No punches are pulled in commenting critically on the inequality between men and women, and the double standards pertaining to marriage both in society and in law. For some modern readers, I suspect that the extent to which Helen's faith pervades her musings in her journal and the vast array of biblical references would be off-putting. The book would simply seem too religious. For me, this was a bonus, because it made me question the extent to which my own faith affects my actions.
Despite having taken so long to get to the end of it, this was one of those books that made me want to turn back to page one and begin all over again. It was just... edible.
Show Less
LibraryThing member jmaloney17
I saw the BBC adaptation of this book about 6 months ago, so I think some of my excitement for the book may be diminished. I did like the book, I just think I would have liked it more if I had not known the ending.
The only thing that irritated me a bit was Helen's piousness. It was a smidge over
The book is very well written. I think Anne may be my favorite writer of the three sisters. Oh wait, I have not read Wuthering Heights, so I like Anne better than Charlotte at least.
The only thing that irritated me a bit was Helen's piousness. It was a smidge over
Show More
the top. I was hoping it wasn't something that the writer did just to prove she knows a lot of bible verses. I think the Bronte's father was a clergyman and a strict one at that, so it is all forgivable I suppose.The book is very well written. I think Anne may be my favorite writer of the three sisters. Oh wait, I have not read Wuthering Heights, so I like Anne better than Charlotte at least.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Porius
There's a nice edition on the internet. Stanford University Press. With an introduction by Mrs. Humphry Ward, granddaughter of Dr. Arnold of Rugby and niece of the poet & scholar, et cetera, Matthew Arnold.
To the novel. Part One. Gilbert Markham narrates a great domestic mix-up, during which he
Part Two. Helen's diaries. She ends up marrying a blighter with less character than Felix Carbury, if that is possible. It's a disaster as husband Arthur and his cronies are every bit as riotous as King Lear and his men. Remember when Lear foolishly divided up his Kingdom and put his own security in jeopardy. He is a plague on Helen's house. She tries to flee but he prevents her. So far, so bad.
Part Three. Arthur dies hard. Helen is now wealthy. Gilbert comes back, fearing Helen is somewhat out of his reach. He tiptoes around looking like a sheep with a secret sorrow. Not to worry. They get together in the end and make a good Dickensian home for little Arthur.
To the novel. Part One. Gilbert Markham narrates a great domestic mix-up, during which he
Show More
knocks his rival off his horse and generally makes a shambles of his attempted romance with Helen Graham of Wildfell Hall. He gets jilted for his efforts.Part Two. Helen's diaries. She ends up marrying a blighter with less character than Felix Carbury, if that is possible. It's a disaster as husband Arthur and his cronies are every bit as riotous as King Lear and his men. Remember when Lear foolishly divided up his Kingdom and put his own security in jeopardy. He is a plague on Helen's house. She tries to flee but he prevents her. So far, so bad.
Part Three. Arthur dies hard. Helen is now wealthy. Gilbert comes back, fearing Helen is somewhat out of his reach. He tiptoes around looking like a sheep with a secret sorrow. Not to worry. They get together in the end and make a good Dickensian home for little Arthur.
Show Less
LibraryThing member citygirl
SPOILERS!!!!
Why: Heard it had interesting subject matter, especially for the times.
There is a lot to say about this book:
First, it is kind of macro-epistolary novel, if that makes any sense. Meaning that the entire book is one long letter. Yes, we've seen that before, but other really long letter
Second, the subject matter was controversial in the day. People were a bit affronted that someone would write in detail about an emotionally abusive marriage which included blatant sexual infidelity and depraved alcoholism, in a book which includes a scene in which a group of drunk men cheer on their comrade while he hits his wife. A book focused on a wife with the gumption to flout the law and run away with her kid. Weirdly enough, this story is wrapped in the context of a romance between the narrator and the protagonist.
Third, if some readers (not me) think Jane Eyre is a moralizing prig, they ought to try out Helen Huntingdon for contrast. There had to be an average of 0.75 biblical quotes and/or allusions per page. But not just the Bible. I had one of those annotated copies, and in the beginning especially, I wanted to yell at Miss Bronte, Use your words! Surely you have some of your own! But that's harsh, because the book and the story is mostly hers and
Overall, I found the book and enjoyable and enlightening read, and I would recommend it, even if it is...odd.
Why: Heard it had interesting subject matter, especially for the times.
There is a lot to say about this book:
First, it is kind of macro-epistolary novel, if that makes any sense. Meaning that the entire book is one long letter. Yes, we've seen that before, but other really long letter
Show More
books don't include dozens of other letters and a diary spanning several years. So, that was interesting and maybe strains credulity. On the other hand, they didn't have tvs.Second, the subject matter was controversial in the day. People were a bit affronted that someone would write in detail about an emotionally abusive marriage which included blatant sexual infidelity and depraved alcoholism, in a book which includes a scene in which a group of drunk men cheer on their comrade while he hits his wife. A book focused on a wife with the gumption to flout the law and run away with her kid. Weirdly enough, this story is wrapped in the context of a romance between the narrator and the protagonist.
Third, if some readers (not me) think Jane Eyre is a moralizing prig, they ought to try out Helen Huntingdon for contrast. There had to be an average of 0.75 biblical quotes and/or allusions per page. But not just the Bible. I had one of those annotated copies, and in the beginning especially, I wanted to yell at Miss Bronte, Use your words! Surely you have some of your own! But that's harsh, because the book and the story is mostly hers and
Overall, I found the book and enjoyable and enlightening read, and I would recommend it, even if it is...odd.
Show Less
LibraryThing member sumik
One of the interesting things I learned in grad school was that in the 19th century a number of women made a good living as painters. And the fact that the main character of the Tenant of Wildfell Hall is one of those women is what drew me to the novel despite my general lack of enthusiasm for all
Show More
things Bronte. (Well, except for their biography - I love the story of a family so chockful of artistic ability.) Sadly, I fear that my lack of enthusiasm for the Brontes has prevented me from finishing this book - because I really don't recall that I did. Show Less
LibraryThing member Izzy1189
This is my favourite of all the novels by any of the Bronte sisters. I love the realism and the fact that you can actually connect with the characters. Everyone who is a fan of the classics should read this.
Subjects
Awards
Language
Original publication date
1848
ISBN
0140431373 / 9780140431377