Ratings50
Average rating4
Anne Brontë's second and last novel was widely and contentiously reviewed upon its 1848 publication, in part because its subject matter - domestic violence, alcoholism, women's rights, and universal salvation - was so controversial. The tale unfolds through a series of letters between two friends as one man learns more about Helen Huntingdon and the past that brought this young painter and single mother to Wildfell Hall. Powerfully plotted and unconventionally structured, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is now considered to be a classic of Victorian literature.
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First, the most important thing: I couldn't stop reading this. So you know this qualifies as a really good book, no matter what the downsides were.
My reading experience had two layers: at one level, I was just absorbed in the melodrama. The characters are engaging, and somehow even though I knew the basic outcome of Helen's diary flashback, I was still driven to find out what happened next! The story is romantic and shocking; characters develop from ignorant and impetuous to wise and principled; True Love is viewed from various points of view - naive, cynical, selfless, and hopeful. It basically has everything to delight the romantic heart. (Well, the climax is overly complicated and delayed, and uses some romance tropes that are real chestnuts by now, but if you skim Gilbert's silliness toward the end, it's fine.)
On another level, I was reflecting on this as a modern, atheistic feminist. From this point of view, the story often reveals surprising insight into patterns that remain highly relevant (e.g., the “Nice Guy” who tries to maneuver out of the friendzone; the plight of an introvert at a party who is tortured by a well-intentioned extrovert; the dangers of using pantsfeelings to choose a mate; and the horrible choices faced by an abused spouse when their abuser controls their housing and money, and puts their children at risk).
But of course, there's a lot that strained my sympathy as well. Helen is admirable only in the context of the moral code of the time. If one doesn't share her Christian beliefs about salvation, marital sanctity, and the duties of a wife, she comes off as far too eager to play the suffering martyr. She makes you want to tear your hair out with her willful blindness, naivete, and ridiculous devotion to forgiveness.
At the same time, it's clear that the social restrictions of the day set women up for failure - they were sheltered to the point that protective relatives couldn't plainly describe a man's bad behavior and its implications for a marriage. “He has an infamous reputation!” has much less impact than, “He screws anything in a skirt, coerces his friends into alcoholism, abuses puppies, and will probably give you and your children syphilis. Run!” Not to mention that guardians often basically pimped out their charges - shopping for rich men willing to leverage their fortunes for what amounted to ownership of a much younger, virginal girl/woman.
This tension between crafting Helen to be the Most Upright, Most Patient, Most Honorable Epitome of Womanhood, and yet clearly questioning the cultural requirements that put women in so many lose-lose situations, is probably why this is considered one of the earliest feminist novels. And it's done so artfully, and against such a poignant romantic story, that I couldn't put it down.
This is a re-read for me and while I don't recall the details of my previous read, I'm happy to say that my rating of this book has improved from 3 to 4 stars. With that out of the way, the topmost thought upon finishing this book is: Who hurt you, Anne Bronte? This book's sub-title is “The first feminist novel” which might very well be true for its time, but I think “Gaslighting fbois” is probably a more appropriate one today.The premise of the novel is fairly simple enough. The whole novel is really a very, very, very long letter from our sort-of protagonist Gilbert Markham to his friend Haldon. In it, he details a story from his youth, when his neighbourhood sees the appearance of a mysterious Mrs Graham, the titular tenant of Wildfell Hall, and her son Arthur. From there, we watch the story unfold.Gilbert is by no means an endearing protagonist. He is pretty gaslight-y in his turn and sometimes seems a bit self-absorbed when it comes to pursuing women. However, all of that is entirely eclipsed by the ridiculously aggravating man-children fboi gang that we meet after the 25% mark of the novel. I don't even want to compare them to children because I think it isn't fair to the latter who haven't had the time to grow and mature. Clearly maturity, empathy, and sparing a single moment of thought and consideration for anything beyond their noses is a foreign concept to most of the men in this novel.
What really saves this novel from Wuthering Heights level of dreariness is Helen or Mrs Graham, the real protagonist of this novel. She is a little aggravatingly gullible at first, it's true, as we read her perspective from her 18 year old self, but she soon proves her worth under adversity. Unlike so many simpering, swooning heroines of other contemporary books, Helen toughens up and actually retains the use of her logic and intelligence even under the most trying of circumstances. While our modern attitudes may be screaming at some of her decisions, if we look at her situation from an early 19th century perspective, what options were feasibly open to her at the time, and the societal repercussions of each, she really behaved very well and made very sound, rational decisions instead of giving way to impulsive recklessness. Having at least just one character I could root for in the whole damn novel made all the difference to me, and is what elevates this novel above Wuthering Heights imo.
I don't know if I want to delve too much into the men of this novel, except to say that they were all infuriating to read and all the more annoying because they are pretty grounded in reality instead of being caricatures a la Wuthering Heights. I could very well conceive that such men existed back then, and a lot of them and their attitudes still exist today, sadly enough. Anne Bronte did such a great job in dragging out their shittiness into the spotlight while maintaining every ounce of realism. I appreciate that, even though it didn't make for a very pleasant read sometimes. There were whole chapters I desperately wanted to skip because I knew it was just going to be so much aggravation, but I'm glad I persisted. At some point I wanted to slap all of them and exile them onto an island where they can learn humility and independence for once instead of being grown-up babies.
Overall, this was a much more entertaining read than I remember, and all the more because I felt so much feelings by it, even if they were not all pleasant.
My favourite of the Bronte books (I have not read Agnes Grey as yet) but, like Emily's books, I feel it is too long and rather excessive on the Christian moralising sermons.
I have a new comfort book lol. Enjoyed it more and more as it went on!