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Nov. 18th, 2017 05:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I went into The Tenant of Wildfell Hall all ready to defiantly love it, in large part because the person writing the introduction to my c. 1900 Project Gutenberg edition (Mrs. Humphry Ward, turn-of-the-century British novelist and President of the Women's Anti-Suffrage League) kept harping on about how Anne was by far the least talented Bronte sister and had none of Charlotte's spark. This seems an obnoxious thing to say about someone in the introduction to their own book.
It is thus somewhat to my chagrin that it turns out I don't actually think Anne has Charlotte's spark. I liked Tenant of Wildfell Hall, but it doesn't have the transcendent weirdness that make Jane Eyre and Villette so compelling.
This is not to say that our heroine Helen is not extremely sympathetic. In the first part of the book, our narrator, Gilbert Markham, relates how Helen the beautiful and mysterious widow Helen Graham moves into the village with her son and just! wants! to be left alone! with her kid! for TWO SECONDS!
Alas, nobody will allow this.
HELEN: I would prefer my five-year-old son did not drink alcohol.
THE NEIGHBORS: Your child will be the VERIEST MILKSHOP.
HELEN: OK, but his father was an abusive alcoholic, so I'd prefer that he didn't -
THE NEIGHBORS: We're calling the vicar to convince you that you're being a terrible mother!
THE VICAR: Not letting your child drink alcohol is CRIMINAl and DESPISING THE GIFTS OF PROVIDENCE!
HELEN: .... I think I'll stay home next time.
HELEN, AT HOME: oh ok looks like everyone's ... come to visit me ...
THE NEIGHBORS: We're just gonna check out every room in your house now, OK? Oh, a painting, tell us all about your paintings!
HELEN: Yes, I'm looking forward to the next time I can take my son out on a long walk to go paint the beach, and enjoy the peace and solitude of nature -
THE NEIGHBORS: It's silly for you to go by yourself, we'll all go and make a daytrip of it! It'll be so much fun!
OUR NARRATOR GILBERT: "Poor Mrs. Graham looked dismayed, and attempted to make excuses, but Rose, either compassionating her lonely life, or anxious to cultivate her acquaintance, was determined to have her; and every objection was overruled."
At this point I had to put the book down for a moment out of sheer empathy at Helen's plight, as would anyone who has ever been bearded in their lair and trapped into a daytrip with irritating strangers.
Anyway, inevitably Gilbert falls for Helen and Helen tells him Their Love Cannot Be, and then terrible rumors start to circulate about her and a fellow called Lawrence who Gilbert is kind of friends with, and then Gilbert sees them embracing! in the garden! and then Lawrence tries to make sympathetic chitchat with Gilbert when he meets him on the street and Gilbert KNOCKS LAWRENCE ON THE HEAD WITH HIS WHIP, WATCHES HIM FALL OFF HIS HORSE, AND RIDES FURIOUSLY OFF.
Oh, but Gilbert's not a monster! eventually his conscience gets the better of him, he feels guilty and comes back --
-- and then, when Lawrence is like 'wtf asshole,' has another fit of rage, throws Lawrence a handkerchief, watches Lawrence try and fail to get on his horse, watches Lawrence collapse yet again into a ditch, and then LEAVES. AGAIN. WAY TO GO, GILBERT.
(It later turns out that Lawrence is, of course, Helen's brother. Gilbert is understandably embarrassed by the whole thing. Fortunately for Gilbert, Lawrence does not have a chance to tell Helen that her new boyfriend beat him up in the middle of the street and left him to die before Gilbert has a chance to come find him and apologize: "The truth is, Lawrence, I have not quite acted correctly to you of late."
AMAZINGLY, Lawrence -- lying in bed, feverish, after spending a night in a ditch -- eventually accepts this wildly awkward apology.)
But all this is really just setup for Helen to have a chance to tell Gilbert the story that forms the meat of the novel: how she married a handsome rake, thinking she could reform him, and spent the next several years in increasingly intense misery before finally deciding to grab her kid and run.
This grim portrait of an abusive marriage is where Anne gets her reputation for taking a Hard Line on Byronic Assholes. It's a worthwhile book to have written, and made quite a storm in Victorian England for its thesis that wifely virtue is not a blank check. (I mean, it's still Victorian England, so Helen can't close up shop for good until the Moral Well-Being of her Son is threatened and maternal responsibilities can justifiably trump marital responsibilities, but it's still a solid start.) I like, respect, and sympathize with Helen, but I don't get the same intense sense of her individuality that I do with Jane Eyre, and Lucy Snowe, and even terrible Catherine Earnshaw. That said, Tenant is also just fundamentally a more pragmatic book than anything written by the other Brontes; the prose has no particular interest in soaring.
Anyway, in the end we're back to Gilbert, who eventually, after some rom-com travails and a fit of the unworthies upon realizing his crush is of a higher social class than he is, manages to successfully get engaged to Helen. This is theoretically a happy ending, although Gilbert is pretty mediocre at best, and also, again, did definitely leave Helen's completely unobjectionable brother to die in a ditch that one time, so the reader's opinion may vary. At least he's not an alcoholic!
It is thus somewhat to my chagrin that it turns out I don't actually think Anne has Charlotte's spark. I liked Tenant of Wildfell Hall, but it doesn't have the transcendent weirdness that make Jane Eyre and Villette so compelling.
This is not to say that our heroine Helen is not extremely sympathetic. In the first part of the book, our narrator, Gilbert Markham, relates how Helen the beautiful and mysterious widow Helen Graham moves into the village with her son and just! wants! to be left alone! with her kid! for TWO SECONDS!
Alas, nobody will allow this.
HELEN: I would prefer my five-year-old son did not drink alcohol.
THE NEIGHBORS: Your child will be the VERIEST MILKSHOP.
HELEN: OK, but his father was an abusive alcoholic, so I'd prefer that he didn't -
THE NEIGHBORS: We're calling the vicar to convince you that you're being a terrible mother!
THE VICAR: Not letting your child drink alcohol is CRIMINAl and DESPISING THE GIFTS OF PROVIDENCE!
HELEN: .... I think I'll stay home next time.
HELEN, AT HOME: oh ok looks like everyone's ... come to visit me ...
THE NEIGHBORS: We're just gonna check out every room in your house now, OK? Oh, a painting, tell us all about your paintings!
HELEN: Yes, I'm looking forward to the next time I can take my son out on a long walk to go paint the beach, and enjoy the peace and solitude of nature -
THE NEIGHBORS: It's silly for you to go by yourself, we'll all go and make a daytrip of it! It'll be so much fun!
OUR NARRATOR GILBERT: "Poor Mrs. Graham looked dismayed, and attempted to make excuses, but Rose, either compassionating her lonely life, or anxious to cultivate her acquaintance, was determined to have her; and every objection was overruled."
At this point I had to put the book down for a moment out of sheer empathy at Helen's plight, as would anyone who has ever been bearded in their lair and trapped into a daytrip with irritating strangers.
Anyway, inevitably Gilbert falls for Helen and Helen tells him Their Love Cannot Be, and then terrible rumors start to circulate about her and a fellow called Lawrence who Gilbert is kind of friends with, and then Gilbert sees them embracing! in the garden! and then Lawrence tries to make sympathetic chitchat with Gilbert when he meets him on the street and Gilbert KNOCKS LAWRENCE ON THE HEAD WITH HIS WHIP, WATCHES HIM FALL OFF HIS HORSE, AND RIDES FURIOUSLY OFF.
Oh, but Gilbert's not a monster! eventually his conscience gets the better of him, he feels guilty and comes back --
-- and then, when Lawrence is like 'wtf asshole,' has another fit of rage, throws Lawrence a handkerchief, watches Lawrence try and fail to get on his horse, watches Lawrence collapse yet again into a ditch, and then LEAVES. AGAIN. WAY TO GO, GILBERT.
(It later turns out that Lawrence is, of course, Helen's brother. Gilbert is understandably embarrassed by the whole thing. Fortunately for Gilbert, Lawrence does not have a chance to tell Helen that her new boyfriend beat him up in the middle of the street and left him to die before Gilbert has a chance to come find him and apologize: "The truth is, Lawrence, I have not quite acted correctly to you of late."
AMAZINGLY, Lawrence -- lying in bed, feverish, after spending a night in a ditch -- eventually accepts this wildly awkward apology.)
But all this is really just setup for Helen to have a chance to tell Gilbert the story that forms the meat of the novel: how she married a handsome rake, thinking she could reform him, and spent the next several years in increasingly intense misery before finally deciding to grab her kid and run.
This grim portrait of an abusive marriage is where Anne gets her reputation for taking a Hard Line on Byronic Assholes. It's a worthwhile book to have written, and made quite a storm in Victorian England for its thesis that wifely virtue is not a blank check. (I mean, it's still Victorian England, so Helen can't close up shop for good until the Moral Well-Being of her Son is threatened and maternal responsibilities can justifiably trump marital responsibilities, but it's still a solid start.) I like, respect, and sympathize with Helen, but I don't get the same intense sense of her individuality that I do with Jane Eyre, and Lucy Snowe, and even terrible Catherine Earnshaw. That said, Tenant is also just fundamentally a more pragmatic book than anything written by the other Brontes; the prose has no particular interest in soaring.
Anyway, in the end we're back to Gilbert, who eventually, after some rom-com travails and a fit of the unworthies upon realizing his crush is of a higher social class than he is, manages to successfully get engaged to Helen. This is theoretically a happy ending, although Gilbert is pretty mediocre at best, and also, again, did definitely leave Helen's completely unobjectionable brother to die in a ditch that one time, so the reader's opinion may vary. At least he's not an alcoholic!
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Date: 2017-11-19 12:43 am (UTC)*giggle*
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Date: 2017-11-19 03:37 am (UTC)I took a secret delight in pressing those slender white fingers, so marvellously like her own, considering he was not a woman, and in watching the passing changes in his fair, pale features, and observing the intonations of his voice, detecting resemblances which I wondered had never struck me before.
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Date: 2017-11-19 02:19 pm (UTC)(Meanwhile, poor Lawrence gets more uncomfortable with Gilbert by the day? Possibly my favorite thing in the book is when he accidentally-on-purpose fails to invite Gilbert to his wedding.)
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Date: 2017-11-28 02:27 pm (UTC)I think she just has the one, but I was never inspired to care either.
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Date: 2017-11-19 05:03 pm (UTC)*Headdesk*
And double *headdesk* to me for reading that entirely wrongly the first time through.
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Date: 2017-11-23 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-11-23 09:19 pm (UTC)I fixed that for you ;)
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Date: 2017-11-20 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-11-23 08:30 pm (UTC)I do appreciate Anne's pragmatism -- I appreciate a lot about the book, but I don't have the kind of fascination with the psychology of it that I do with Charlotte's. Which, again, is an unfair comparison, there's no reason to always be weighing Brontes against each other, and yet.
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Date: 2017-11-26 06:43 am (UTC)Charlotte's are definitely in the Wordsworthian-sublime bucket, IMO, though I don't really care for them.
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