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4.07 AVERAGE
4.07 AVERAGE
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I love how books seem to change as you get older - so much more complex on so many levels now.
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
Strong character development:
Yes
my favorite brontë novel. helen I love you marry me instead <3
dark
emotional
informative
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death
Moderate: Addiction, Alcoholism, Domestic abuse, Infidelity, Alcohol, Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Animal cruelty
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
emotional
funny
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Gilbert is the One True Simp
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Note: I started reading the Project Gutenberg version of this book, only to learn about the extensive non-authorial changes in that edition, so I had to restart from the beginning. Agh! Useful information in that link, but in short re: 'good' editions to use:
Actual review: STOP ALL MEN.
That’s my prevailing feeling throughout this excellent early feminist novel. I’ve long been a fan of the other two Brontë sisters (mainly Wuthering Heights, since my enjoyment of Jane Eyre was initially hampered by some badly-taught English classes) but I’ve never read Anne until now. So, I’m inevitably going to wind up compare-contrasting the three of them a bit.
Going in blind into this story was so great, because I had no idea what to expect or what it was about. It’s a compelling story unraveling the mystery of Helen Graham, the eponymous tenant of Wildfell Hall: plus in how she’s the mysterious older lodger at a gloomy and dilapidated manor, with hidden backstory & secretssss and a child from a former relationship, and higher social status, she’s actually the Rochester of this novel, which I think is such a great trope inversion.
Meanwhile, the main character of the frame narrative, Gilbert Markham, reminds me of the ninny Mr. Lockwood from the frame narrative of Wuthering Heights. And Markham may be the main character, but Helen is decidedly the protagonist: her story is the one central to the novel (and honestly, I would almost have preferred if it had all been from her POV and in her voice, because I found the middle section so electrifying and morbidly compelling in comparison to Markham’s).
The abusive relationship she undergoes is teeth-grittingly awful, and so well-written in its slow and subtle development, the way it shows how a woman can fall prey to the insidious allure of a rake without realising the full extent of what she’s getting into. His alcoholism & the devolution of their relationship is a long, tense trainwreck. Very, very rarely have I hated a character as much as I hated Mr. Huntingdon here — enough that, to my surprise, I found myself fantasising about Helen murdering him and fleeing the scene of the crime. I HOPED AND YEARNED AND WISHED FOR IT.
So I was trying to figure out why it provoked such a strong reaction in me — why do I love Wuthering Heights and even Heathcliff so much, despite him being such a villain? why was this different? And I think it’s because Heathcliff and Catherine are both dreadful and spiteful and jealous creatures, and inflict misery upon each other, and deserve each other. Meanwhile, Helen does not deserve her awful husband one bit, and in fact for long, painful periods remains blind to his faults and even berates herself for not being good enough to stop him — in a way that feels all too real. It’s a banal, everyday sort of evil that has befallen so many women every single day, helpless and controlled by their husbands, and with so little ways for escape. It evokes the reader’s desperate yearning to protect her and for everything to turn out okay.
When she finally does tear herself away, it’s a goddamn triumph. It might not seem so revolutionary to modern readers, but to crib a bit of summary from the internet: May Sinclair, in 1913, said that the slamming of Helen's bedroom door against her husband reverberated throughout Victorian England. In leaving her husband, Helen violates not only social conventions, but also the early 19th century English law. Even I had to stop and remind myself of that, how shocking her eventual acts of feminist independence would have been at the time — and frankly, people still wind up trapped in unhealthy relationships today and unable to bring themselves to properly end it, so it’s hardly a done-and-dusted problem.
Huntingdon is the main #fuckboy of the novel and an obvious pestilence, but Helen also suffers through several other would-be suitors and even a toxic Nice Guy, all of whom are dreadful, which comes back to what I said earlier: STOP ALL MEN.
Including, in my opinion, Markham. Which is where I diverge a bit from the intent of the novel, I think: at the end of the day this is still a romance, but I didn’t trust him, thanks to his manipulative attention to her son in order to get at her, ditto the way he cultivated a friendship with Lawrence (despite not liking him!) to hear about her, all on top of his impetuousness and childish petulance. Even in the frame narrative, it bothers me that he transcribes Helen’s entire private diary (!!!) for the entertainment of his friend, what the fuck. And after he reads the harrowing, blow-by-blow description of her abusive marriage, by his own admission he’s more jealously bothered by the parts where she loved Huntingdon than when her suffering was at its worst. Ugh!!
I keep thinking of this Kate Beaton cartoon. And it’s true that Markham & Helen have a better connection, and it’s nice that she holds the power in the relationship and he knows he isn’t good enough for her — plus he does grow and improve and mature. Anne Brontë doesn’t romanticise the assholes (or even fake nice guys) of the novel, and instead extols patience and propriety and a proper union between two souls who can respect each other. But Markham still wasn’t good enough in my eyes, basically. (It is possible that I was just so effectively scarred by the middle portion of the novel that I wanted Helen to run off and nurture her female friendships and not be bothered by a man ever ever again.)
It’s a story about women, and marriage, and motherhood. There’s a large variety of different marriages on display, most of which are horrible, and which underscore only tying yourself to someone who suits you psychologically and mentally — rather than for attractiveness or status or money. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall shows the dangerous and hopeless and soul-wrenching situations that women can be forced into, the corners they’re backed into, and the lengths to which they might have to go to escape.
4.5 stars, not perfect because it’s a bit slow and long (I think it’s the longest of the three sisters’ work?), and it takes a while to get to Helen’s story — the real teeth of the novel — but it’s great. I loved it.
Some quotes:
vs.
LATER, GILBERT RE: HELEN: “I would rather have your friendship than the love of any other woman in the world!”
vs.
ON HELEN RE: HUNTINGDON: “I’ll bet anything she’d rather have this young fellow without a penny, than Wilmot with his house full of gold.”
***
His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind. And, upon the whole, our intimacy was rather a mutual predilection than a deep and solid friendship, such as has since arisen between myself and you, Halford, whom, in spite of your occasional crustiness, I can liken to nothing so well as an old coat, unimpeachable in texture, but easy and loose — that has conformed itself to the shape of the wearer, and which he may use as he pleases, without being bothered with the fear of spoiling it; — whereas Mr. Lawrence was like a new garment, all very neat and trim to look at, but so tight in the elbows that you would fear to split the seams by the unrestricted motion of your arms, and so smooth and fine in surface that you scruple to expose it to a single drop of rain.
***
Where her opinions and sentiments tallied with mine, it was her extreme good sense, her exquisite taste and feeling that delighted me; where they differed, it was still her uncompromising boldness in the avowal or defence of that difference — her earnestness and keenness that piqued my fancy: and even when she angered me by her unkind words or looks, and her uncharitable conclusions respecting me, it only made me the more dissatisfied with myself for having so unfavourably impressed her, and the more desirous to vindicate my character and disposition in her eyes, and if possible, to win her esteem.
***
At first, indeed, she had seemed to take a pleasure in mortifying my vanity and crushing my presumption — relentlessly nipping off bud by bud as they ventured to appear; and then, I confess, I was deeply wounded, though, at the same time, stimulated to seek revenge; — but latterly finding, beyond a doubt, that I was not that empty-headed coxcomb she had first supposed me, she had repulsed my modest advances in quite a different spirit.
***
But, while I gazed, I thought upon the book, and wondered how it was to be presented. My heart failed me; but I determined not to be such a fool as to come away without having made the attempt. It was useless waiting for an opportunity, and useless trying to concoct a speech for the occasion. The more plainly and naturally the thing was done, the better, I thought; so I just looked out of the window to screw up my courage, and then pulled out the book, turned round, and put it into her hand, with this short explanation:
“You were wishing to see ‘Marmion’, Mrs. Graham; and here it is, if you will be so kind as to take it.”
A momentary blush suffused her face — perhaps, a blush of sympathetic shame for such an awkward style of presentation.
***
“But why not? What objection do you find?”
“Firstly, he is, at least, forty years old — considerably more I should think, and I am but eighteen; secondly, he is narrow-minded and bigoted in the extreme; thirdly, his tastes and feelings are wholly dissimilar to mine; fourthly, his looks, voice, and manner are particularly displeasing to me; and finally, I have an aversion to his whole person that I never can surmount.”
[NOTE FROM JULIE: EYOOOO this is the most effective, crushing rejection I have ever read.]
***
“It’s ‘all for love or the world well lost,’ with me.”
[NOTE FROM JULIE: I’m such a lit nerd that I immediately know this was a reference to John Dryden’s 1678 play, which is a play that legit made me cry when I read it.]
***
“I do not insult you,” cried he: “I worship you. You are my angel — my divinity! I lay my powers at your feet — and you must and shall accept them!” he exclaimed impetuously, starting to his feet — “I will be your consoler and defender! and if your conscience upbraid you for it, say I overcame you and you could not choose but yield!”
I never saw a man so terribly excited. He precipitated himself towards me. I snatched up my palette-knife and held it against him. This startled him: he stood and gazed at me in astonishment; I dare say I looked as fierce and resolute as he. I moved to the bell and put my hand upon the cord. This tamed him still more. With a half-authoritative, half-deprecating wave of the hand, he sought to deter me from ringing.
“Stand off, then!” said I. He stepped back. — “And listen to me. — I don’t like you,” I continued, as deliberately and emphatically as I could, to give the greater efficacy to my words; “and if I were divorced from my husband—or if he were dead, I would not marry you. There now! I hope you’re satisfied.”
His face grew blanched with anger.
“I am satisfied,” he replied with bitter emphasis, “that you are the most cold-hearted, unnatural, ungrateful woman I ever yet beheld!”
“Ungrateful, sir?”
“Ungrateful.”
[NOTE FROM JULIE: Holy hells, this is such a Nice Guy Spurned scene that dovetails precisely with any modern-day screenshot of text messages where a guy immediately starts spitting poisonous hateful vitriol after being rejected. Even when he was wooing her, he literally threatens her with rape. I am so livid.]
***
His sufferings and my own laborious care have given him some claim to my regard — to my affection even, if he would only be quiet and sincere, and content to let things remain as they are, but the more he tries to conciliate me the more I shrink from him and from the future.
[NOTE FROM JULIE: This is a really constant thing with Helen, even when it comes to repelling Markham. There’s a particular sub-definition within the aromantic spectrum, where people describe themselves as experiencing romantic feelings until they’re reciprocated, at which point they’re repulsed. This doesn’t pan out here, of course, because Helen does reciprocate in some instances… but it came to mind.]
***
But I devoured those precious letters with my eyes, and never let them go till their contents were stamped upon my mind; and when I got home, the most important passages were entered in my diary among the remarkable events of the day.
[NOTE FROM JULIE: I loooove the absurd and deeply contrived lengths to which characters go to maintain the epistolary structure of these old novels. Love it. Even the idea of Markham literally re-transcribing hundreds of pages of Helen’s diary for his friend is crazy.]
The 'Oxford World's Classics' 1998 paperback edition, and the 'Wordsworth' 1998 paperback edition both use the Clarendon text, and are consequently as close as it is possible to get, to Anne's original creation. The 'Oxford' has an introduction by Margaret Smith; and the 'Wordsworth', by the former Brontë Parsonage Museum Curator, Kathryn White.
Another edition, known to be true to Anne's original, is the 'Penguin' 1996 - which has an introduction by Stevie Davies. (Beware: not all 'Penguin' editions are of the original - i.e. the 'Penguin Popular Classics'.)
Actual review: STOP ALL MEN.
That’s my prevailing feeling throughout this excellent early feminist novel. I’ve long been a fan of the other two Brontë sisters (mainly Wuthering Heights, since my enjoyment of Jane Eyre was initially hampered by some badly-taught English classes) but I’ve never read Anne until now. So, I’m inevitably going to wind up compare-contrasting the three of them a bit.
Going in blind into this story was so great, because I had no idea what to expect or what it was about. It’s a compelling story unraveling the mystery of Helen Graham, the eponymous tenant of Wildfell Hall: plus in how she’s the mysterious older lodger at a gloomy and dilapidated manor, with hidden backstory & secretssss and a child from a former relationship, and higher social status, she’s actually the Rochester of this novel, which I think is such a great trope inversion.
Meanwhile, the main character of the frame narrative, Gilbert Markham, reminds me of the ninny Mr. Lockwood from the frame narrative of Wuthering Heights. And Markham may be the main character, but Helen is decidedly the protagonist: her story is the one central to the novel (and honestly, I would almost have preferred if it had all been from her POV and in her voice, because I found the middle section so electrifying and morbidly compelling in comparison to Markham’s).
The abusive relationship she undergoes is teeth-grittingly awful, and so well-written in its slow and subtle development, the way it shows how a woman can fall prey to the insidious allure of a rake without realising the full extent of what she’s getting into. His alcoholism & the devolution of their relationship is a long, tense trainwreck. Very, very rarely have I hated a character as much as I hated Mr. Huntingdon here — enough that, to my surprise, I found myself fantasising about Helen murdering him and fleeing the scene of the crime. I HOPED AND YEARNED AND WISHED FOR IT.
So I was trying to figure out why it provoked such a strong reaction in me — why do I love Wuthering Heights and even Heathcliff so much, despite him being such a villain? why was this different? And I think it’s because Heathcliff and Catherine are both dreadful and spiteful and jealous creatures, and inflict misery upon each other, and deserve each other. Meanwhile, Helen does not deserve her awful husband one bit, and in fact for long, painful periods remains blind to his faults and even berates herself for not being good enough to stop him — in a way that feels all too real. It’s a banal, everyday sort of evil that has befallen so many women every single day, helpless and controlled by their husbands, and with so little ways for escape. It evokes the reader’s desperate yearning to protect her and for everything to turn out okay.
When she finally does tear herself away, it’s a goddamn triumph. It might not seem so revolutionary to modern readers, but to crib a bit of summary from the internet: May Sinclair, in 1913, said that the slamming of Helen's bedroom door against her husband reverberated throughout Victorian England. In leaving her husband, Helen violates not only social conventions, but also the early 19th century English law. Even I had to stop and remind myself of that, how shocking her eventual acts of feminist independence would have been at the time — and frankly, people still wind up trapped in unhealthy relationships today and unable to bring themselves to properly end it, so it’s hardly a done-and-dusted problem.
Huntingdon is the main #fuckboy of the novel and an obvious pestilence, but Helen also suffers through several other would-be suitors and even a toxic Nice Guy, all of whom are dreadful, which comes back to what I said earlier: STOP ALL MEN.
Including, in my opinion, Markham. Which is where I diverge a bit from the intent of the novel, I think: at the end of the day this is still a romance, but I didn’t trust him, thanks to his manipulative attention to her son in order to get at her, ditto the way he cultivated a friendship with Lawrence (despite not liking him!) to hear about her, all on top of his impetuousness and childish petulance. Even in the frame narrative, it bothers me that he transcribes Helen’s entire private diary (!!!) for the entertainment of his friend, what the fuck. And after he reads the harrowing, blow-by-blow description of her abusive marriage, by his own admission he’s more jealously bothered by the parts where she loved Huntingdon than when her suffering was at its worst. Ugh!!
I keep thinking of this Kate Beaton cartoon. And it’s true that Markham & Helen have a better connection, and it’s nice that she holds the power in the relationship and he knows he isn’t good enough for her — plus he does grow and improve and mature. Anne Brontë doesn’t romanticise the assholes (or even fake nice guys) of the novel, and instead extols patience and propriety and a proper union between two souls who can respect each other. But Markham still wasn’t good enough in my eyes, basically. (It is possible that I was just so effectively scarred by the middle portion of the novel that I wanted Helen to run off and nurture her female friendships and not be bothered by a man ever ever again.)
It’s a story about women, and marriage, and motherhood. There’s a large variety of different marriages on display, most of which are horrible, and which underscore only tying yourself to someone who suits you psychologically and mentally — rather than for attractiveness or status or money. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall shows the dangerous and hopeless and soul-wrenching situations that women can be forced into, the corners they’re backed into, and the lengths to which they might have to go to escape.
4.5 stars, not perfect because it’s a bit slow and long (I think it’s the longest of the three sisters’ work?), and it takes a while to get to Helen’s story — the real teeth of the novel — but it’s great. I loved it.
Some quotes:
Spoiler
INITIAL GILBERT RE: HELEN: “I would rather admire you from this distance, fair lady, than be the partner of your home.”vs.
LATER, GILBERT RE: HELEN: “I would rather have your friendship than the love of any other woman in the world!”
vs.
ON HELEN RE: HUNTINGDON: “I’ll bet anything she’d rather have this young fellow without a penny, than Wilmot with his house full of gold.”
***
His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind. And, upon the whole, our intimacy was rather a mutual predilection than a deep and solid friendship, such as has since arisen between myself and you, Halford, whom, in spite of your occasional crustiness, I can liken to nothing so well as an old coat, unimpeachable in texture, but easy and loose — that has conformed itself to the shape of the wearer, and which he may use as he pleases, without being bothered with the fear of spoiling it; — whereas Mr. Lawrence was like a new garment, all very neat and trim to look at, but so tight in the elbows that you would fear to split the seams by the unrestricted motion of your arms, and so smooth and fine in surface that you scruple to expose it to a single drop of rain.
***
Where her opinions and sentiments tallied with mine, it was her extreme good sense, her exquisite taste and feeling that delighted me; where they differed, it was still her uncompromising boldness in the avowal or defence of that difference — her earnestness and keenness that piqued my fancy: and even when she angered me by her unkind words or looks, and her uncharitable conclusions respecting me, it only made me the more dissatisfied with myself for having so unfavourably impressed her, and the more desirous to vindicate my character and disposition in her eyes, and if possible, to win her esteem.
***
At first, indeed, she had seemed to take a pleasure in mortifying my vanity and crushing my presumption — relentlessly nipping off bud by bud as they ventured to appear; and then, I confess, I was deeply wounded, though, at the same time, stimulated to seek revenge; — but latterly finding, beyond a doubt, that I was not that empty-headed coxcomb she had first supposed me, she had repulsed my modest advances in quite a different spirit.
***
But, while I gazed, I thought upon the book, and wondered how it was to be presented. My heart failed me; but I determined not to be such a fool as to come away without having made the attempt. It was useless waiting for an opportunity, and useless trying to concoct a speech for the occasion. The more plainly and naturally the thing was done, the better, I thought; so I just looked out of the window to screw up my courage, and then pulled out the book, turned round, and put it into her hand, with this short explanation:
“You were wishing to see ‘Marmion’, Mrs. Graham; and here it is, if you will be so kind as to take it.”
A momentary blush suffused her face — perhaps, a blush of sympathetic shame for such an awkward style of presentation.
***
“But why not? What objection do you find?”
“Firstly, he is, at least, forty years old — considerably more I should think, and I am but eighteen; secondly, he is narrow-minded and bigoted in the extreme; thirdly, his tastes and feelings are wholly dissimilar to mine; fourthly, his looks, voice, and manner are particularly displeasing to me; and finally, I have an aversion to his whole person that I never can surmount.”
[NOTE FROM JULIE: EYOOOO this is the most effective, crushing rejection I have ever read.]
***
“It’s ‘all for love or the world well lost,’ with me.”
[NOTE FROM JULIE: I’m such a lit nerd that I immediately know this was a reference to John Dryden’s 1678 play, which is a play that legit made me cry when I read it.]
***
“I do not insult you,” cried he: “I worship you. You are my angel — my divinity! I lay my powers at your feet — and you must and shall accept them!” he exclaimed impetuously, starting to his feet — “I will be your consoler and defender! and if your conscience upbraid you for it, say I overcame you and you could not choose but yield!”
I never saw a man so terribly excited. He precipitated himself towards me. I snatched up my palette-knife and held it against him. This startled him: he stood and gazed at me in astonishment; I dare say I looked as fierce and resolute as he. I moved to the bell and put my hand upon the cord. This tamed him still more. With a half-authoritative, half-deprecating wave of the hand, he sought to deter me from ringing.
“Stand off, then!” said I. He stepped back. — “And listen to me. — I don’t like you,” I continued, as deliberately and emphatically as I could, to give the greater efficacy to my words; “and if I were divorced from my husband—or if he were dead, I would not marry you. There now! I hope you’re satisfied.”
His face grew blanched with anger.
“I am satisfied,” he replied with bitter emphasis, “that you are the most cold-hearted, unnatural, ungrateful woman I ever yet beheld!”
“Ungrateful, sir?”
“Ungrateful.”
[NOTE FROM JULIE: Holy hells, this is such a Nice Guy Spurned scene that dovetails precisely with any modern-day screenshot of text messages where a guy immediately starts spitting poisonous hateful vitriol after being rejected. Even when he was wooing her, he literally threatens her with rape. I am so livid.]
***
His sufferings and my own laborious care have given him some claim to my regard — to my affection even, if he would only be quiet and sincere, and content to let things remain as they are, but the more he tries to conciliate me the more I shrink from him and from the future.
[NOTE FROM JULIE: This is a really constant thing with Helen, even when it comes to repelling Markham. There’s a particular sub-definition within the aromantic spectrum, where people describe themselves as experiencing romantic feelings until they’re reciprocated, at which point they’re repulsed. This doesn’t pan out here, of course, because Helen does reciprocate in some instances… but it came to mind.]
***
But I devoured those precious letters with my eyes, and never let them go till their contents were stamped upon my mind; and when I got home, the most important passages were entered in my diary among the remarkable events of the day.
[NOTE FROM JULIE: I loooove the absurd and deeply contrived lengths to which characters go to maintain the epistolary structure of these old novels. Love it. Even the idea of Markham literally re-transcribing hundreds of pages of Helen’s diary for his friend is crazy.]
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
After reading Jane Eyre and not being impressed and so despising Wuthering Heights I didn't finish it, I thought I'd give the last sister a chance, and boy am I glad I did. I can not believe how progressive this story is. Written in 1848, Anne perfectly captures the dangers of an abusive relationship and reconciles it with the most determined heroine I've come across yet - in other classics and even contemporary novels. Helen don't need no man, and once she realizes she can't help her husband, or herself by staying with him, she leaves him! And good for her! Even today, abuse in relationships is not talked of enough, which goes to show how much we still haven't progressed, granted women can now get a divorce, live by themselves, and work for their living, abuse is not talked of widely. This is an important story for shedding light on how a seemingly good relationship can turn sour fast, and demonstrating that you can get out of it.
I only give it 3.5 stars, because the beginning and ending dragged for me, but Helen's diary is so powerful, it compelled me to read it. I appreciate this story more for it's themes and writing than the structure and characterization.
******************************************************
Update of 12/2019:
I don’t know what I was smoking the first time I read this to only give it 3 stars. This is a 5 star, class act kinda story. (Honestly, I may not have understood everything on the first reading.) Helen is a bad ass bitch. Yes, she can be preachy at times, but this was written in 1848. Y’all gotta take historical context into consideration. This novel is groundbreaking. I picked up more on the nuances on this re-read. The imagery is fantastic, the writing, I could picture everything. I also enjoy that this is more in the vein of realism. I did not enjoy Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre because they just didn’t seem...plausible. Anne Bronte came out bold trying to make a statement. I can only imagine the public’s first reaction to this story. It’s the 21st century and I’M shook. It’s so empathetic, it makes me wonder if Anne had an abusive marriage like Helen. I mean, people weren’t necessarily talking about good ol’ alcoholism, verbal, emotional, and financial abuse, neglect, and affairs like this in the
1840s. Heck, we still don’t talk much about abusive relationships. Anne was truly ahead of her time. It’s a shame it’s only just now become popular/being read. I imagine this book could have been very helpful for women back in her time.
I only give it 3.5 stars, because the beginning and ending dragged for me, but Helen's diary is so powerful, it compelled me to read it. I appreciate this story more for it's themes and writing than the structure and characterization.
******************************************************
Update of 12/2019:
I don’t know what I was smoking the first time I read this to only give it 3 stars. This is a 5 star, class act kinda story. (Honestly, I may not have understood everything on the first reading.) Helen is a bad ass bitch. Yes, she can be preachy at times, but this was written in 1848. Y’all gotta take historical context into consideration. This novel is groundbreaking. I picked up more on the nuances on this re-read. The imagery is fantastic, the writing, I could picture everything. I also enjoy that this is more in the vein of realism. I did not enjoy Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre because they just didn’t seem...plausible. Anne Bronte came out bold trying to make a statement. I can only imagine the public’s first reaction to this story. It’s the 21st century and I’M shook. It’s so empathetic, it makes me wonder if Anne had an abusive marriage like Helen. I mean, people weren’t necessarily talking about good ol’ alcoholism, verbal, emotional, and financial abuse, neglect, and affairs like this in the
1840s. Heck, we still don’t talk much about abusive relationships. Anne was truly ahead of her time. It’s a shame it’s only just now become popular/being read. I imagine this book could have been very helpful for women back in her time.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Alcoholism, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, Infidelity, Misogyny, Sexual harassment