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4.07 AVERAGE
4.07 AVERAGE
I was quiet surprise on how easy it was to get into the story. The writing is very representative of the style of the era but still very readable nowadays.
The growth of Helen as a woman is simply beautifully orchestrated. I loved having multiple narratives, Altho the idea that a letter would be almost 600 pages long is a bit ridiculous.
This book takes a stand against men and shows further their only interest in women and their possessiveness. For even the male love interest has many problematic issues ( such as refusing to help a man, risking his death under the excuse that he might entertain an intimate relationship with the girl he loved)
This book also breeches interesting topics such as education for boys and girls in comparison. It is during those debates between the characters that I saw the early feminism in the response of Helen.
Although I do have to say that some part were too long and unnecessary in my opinion.
Anne Brontë wrote a strong female lead with an even stronger mind which is rather refreshing of the time.
The growth of Helen as a woman is simply beautifully orchestrated. I loved having multiple narratives, Altho the idea that a letter would be almost 600 pages long is a bit ridiculous.
This book takes a stand against men and shows further their only interest in women and their possessiveness. For even the male love interest has many problematic issues ( such as refusing to help a man, risking his death under the excuse that he might entertain an intimate relationship with the girl he loved)
This book also breeches interesting topics such as education for boys and girls in comparison. It is during those debates between the characters that I saw the early feminism in the response of Helen.
Although I do have to say that some part were too long and unnecessary in my opinion.
Anne Brontë wrote a strong female lead with an even stronger mind which is rather refreshing of the time.
The best Brontë book I’ve read. Beautiful pacing, engaging and suspenseful. A fantastically accurate and emotive representation of gaslighting which really wrings the heart and leaves you thinking. Would recommend to anyone wanting to get into literature of this period, and anyone looking for a book that’s hard to put down.
The first Brontë to ever make me laugh - Gilbert Markham is subtlely hilarious. Would have been 4 stars but there's too many H names and I kept getting confused who was who.
I was pleasantly surprised to like this story as much as I did. I loved the wittiness in the banter between all the characters--the clever remarks and the quick responses. I particularly like Helen's exchange with Mr. Boarham and the fact that Helen was able to see past societal reasons for marrying and to continue to desire love and compatibility in her reasons was a strong female statement. We can tell that Huntingdon is trouble as he teases Helen by using Miss Wilmot as a pawn in his game. His overall shallowness and selfishness foreshadows what is to come and I, probably like many others, found myself saying, "Don't do it, Helen! Stay away!" But how many of us deep in that situation could have seen the red flags ourselves, being too inexperienced at that age and blinded by charm and infatuation? Her seemingly unrequited love for him gets the best of her and binds her innocence tightly to him. Huntingdon's debauchery with his boys still carries over to present day, it seems. Boys will be boys and things don't really change, do they? I admire Helen's badass self-restraint throughout! The unexpected twists and turns throughout the story were a welcome puzzle of suspense and drama that unfolded to the truth we get to uncover along with Gilbert. I was glad at the happy ending for them both.
"Richard Wilson, Jane's younger brother, sat in a corner, apparently good-tempered, but silent and shy, desirous to escape observation, but willing enough to listen and observe: and, although somewhat out of his element, he would have been happy enough in his own quiet way, if my mother could only have let him alone, but in her mistaken kindness, she would keep persecuting him with her attentions--pressing upon him all manner of viands, under the notion that he was too bashful to help himself, and obliging him to shout across the room his monosyllabic replies to the numerous questions and observations by which she vainly attempted to draw him into conversation." pg. 34 (I love the visual sense of this character description--and the hilarity!)
"Through him, I was at once delivered from all formality, and terror, and constraint. In love affairs, there is no mediator like a merry, simple-hearted child--ever ready to cement divided hearts, to span the unfriendly gulph of custom, to melt the ice of cold reserve, and overthrow the separating walls of dread formality and pride." pg. 84
"It was a dull, gloomy morning, the weather had changed like my prospects, and the rain was pattering against the window. I rose nevertheless, and went out; not to look after the farm, though that would serve as my excuse, but to cool my brain, and regain, if possible, a sufficient degree of composure to meet the family at the morning meal without exciting inconvenient remarks. If I got a wetting, that, in conjunction with a pretended over exertion before breakfast, might excuse my sudden loss of appetite; and if a cold ensued, the severer the better, it would help to account for the sullen moods and moping melancholy likely to cloud my brow for long enough." pg. 102
"'Because, I imagine there must be only a very, very few men in the world, that I should like to marry; and of those few, it is ten to one I may never be acquainted with one; or if I should, it is twenty to one, her may not happen to be single, or to take a fancy to me.'" pg. 124 (Girl, story of my life!)
"I am now quite settled down to my usual routine of steady occupations and quiet amusements--tolerably contented and cheerful, but still looking forward to spring with the hope of returning to town, not for its gaieties and dissipation, for for the chance of meeting Mr. Huntingdon once again; for still, he is always in my thoughts and in my dreams. In all my employments, whatever I do, or see, or hear, has an ultimate reference to him; whatever skill or knowledge I acquire is some day to be turned to his advantage or amusement; whatever new beauties in nature or art I discover, are to be depicted to meet his eye, or stored in my memory to be told him at some future period. This, at least, is the hope that I cherish, the fancy that lights me on my lonely way." pg. 143 (Verily, such as it is to be in love!)
"He is very fond of me--almost too fond. I could do with less caressing and more rationality: I should like to be less of a pet and more of a friend, if I might choose--but I won't complain of that: I am only afraid his affection loses in depth where it gains in ardour. I sometimes liken it to a fire of dry twigs and branches compared with one of solid coal--very bright and hot, but if it should burn itself out and leave nothing but ashes behind, what shall I do? But it won't--it shan't, I am determined--and surely I have power to keep it alive." pg. 191 (What a fitting analogy and such a naive wish!)
"I love him still; and he loves me, in his own way--but oh, how different from the love I could have given, and once had hoped to receive! how little real sympathy there exists between us; how many of my thoughts and feelings are gloomily cloistered within my own mind; how much of my higher and better self is indeed unmarried--doomed either to harden and sour in the sunless shade of solitude, or to quite degenerate and all away for lack of nutriment in this unwholesome soil!" pg. 232 (So tragic and how many people out there have felt the same disillusionment?)
"Only let the stormy severity of this winter weather be somewhat abated, and then, some morning Mr. Huntingdon will come down to a solitary breakfast-table, and perhaps be clamouring through the house for his invisible wife and child, when they are some fifty miles on their way to the western world--or it may be more, for we shall leave him hours before the dawn, and it is not probable he will discover the loss of both, until the day is far advanced." pg. 347 (In context of the story, this was such a liberating passage to read and hope for!)
"'But, if we may never meet, and never hope to meet again, is it a crime to exchange our thoughts by letter? May not kindred spirits meet, and mingle in communion whatever be the fate and circumstances of their earthly tenements?'" pg. 387
"'This rose is not so fragrant as a summer flower, but it has stood through hardships none of them could bear: the cold rain of winter has sufficed to nourish it, and its faint sun to warm it; the bleak winds have not blanched it, or broken its stem, and the keen frost has not blighted it. Look, Gilbert, it is still fresh and blooming as a flower can be, with the cold snow even now on its petals.--Will you have it?'" pg. 465 (Beautiful analogy!)
Book: borrowed from Skyline College library.
"Richard Wilson, Jane's younger brother, sat in a corner, apparently good-tempered, but silent and shy, desirous to escape observation, but willing enough to listen and observe: and, although somewhat out of his element, he would have been happy enough in his own quiet way, if my mother could only have let him alone, but in her mistaken kindness, she would keep persecuting him with her attentions--pressing upon him all manner of viands, under the notion that he was too bashful to help himself, and obliging him to shout across the room his monosyllabic replies to the numerous questions and observations by which she vainly attempted to draw him into conversation." pg. 34 (I love the visual sense of this character description--and the hilarity!)
"Through him, I was at once delivered from all formality, and terror, and constraint. In love affairs, there is no mediator like a merry, simple-hearted child--ever ready to cement divided hearts, to span the unfriendly gulph of custom, to melt the ice of cold reserve, and overthrow the separating walls of dread formality and pride." pg. 84
"It was a dull, gloomy morning, the weather had changed like my prospects, and the rain was pattering against the window. I rose nevertheless, and went out; not to look after the farm, though that would serve as my excuse, but to cool my brain, and regain, if possible, a sufficient degree of composure to meet the family at the morning meal without exciting inconvenient remarks. If I got a wetting, that, in conjunction with a pretended over exertion before breakfast, might excuse my sudden loss of appetite; and if a cold ensued, the severer the better, it would help to account for the sullen moods and moping melancholy likely to cloud my brow for long enough." pg. 102
"'Because, I imagine there must be only a very, very few men in the world, that I should like to marry; and of those few, it is ten to one I may never be acquainted with one; or if I should, it is twenty to one, her may not happen to be single, or to take a fancy to me.'" pg. 124 (Girl, story of my life!)
"I am now quite settled down to my usual routine of steady occupations and quiet amusements--tolerably contented and cheerful, but still looking forward to spring with the hope of returning to town, not for its gaieties and dissipation, for for the chance of meeting Mr. Huntingdon once again; for still, he is always in my thoughts and in my dreams. In all my employments, whatever I do, or see, or hear, has an ultimate reference to him; whatever skill or knowledge I acquire is some day to be turned to his advantage or amusement; whatever new beauties in nature or art I discover, are to be depicted to meet his eye, or stored in my memory to be told him at some future period. This, at least, is the hope that I cherish, the fancy that lights me on my lonely way." pg. 143 (Verily, such as it is to be in love!)
"He is very fond of me--almost too fond. I could do with less caressing and more rationality: I should like to be less of a pet and more of a friend, if I might choose--but I won't complain of that: I am only afraid his affection loses in depth where it gains in ardour. I sometimes liken it to a fire of dry twigs and branches compared with one of solid coal--very bright and hot, but if it should burn itself out and leave nothing but ashes behind, what shall I do? But it won't--it shan't, I am determined--and surely I have power to keep it alive." pg. 191 (What a fitting analogy and such a naive wish!)
"I love him still; and he loves me, in his own way--but oh, how different from the love I could have given, and once had hoped to receive! how little real sympathy there exists between us; how many of my thoughts and feelings are gloomily cloistered within my own mind; how much of my higher and better self is indeed unmarried--doomed either to harden and sour in the sunless shade of solitude, or to quite degenerate and all away for lack of nutriment in this unwholesome soil!" pg. 232 (So tragic and how many people out there have felt the same disillusionment?)
"Only let the stormy severity of this winter weather be somewhat abated, and then, some morning Mr. Huntingdon will come down to a solitary breakfast-table, and perhaps be clamouring through the house for his invisible wife and child, when they are some fifty miles on their way to the western world--or it may be more, for we shall leave him hours before the dawn, and it is not probable he will discover the loss of both, until the day is far advanced." pg. 347 (In context of the story, this was such a liberating passage to read and hope for!)
"'But, if we may never meet, and never hope to meet again, is it a crime to exchange our thoughts by letter? May not kindred spirits meet, and mingle in communion whatever be the fate and circumstances of their earthly tenements?'" pg. 387
"'This rose is not so fragrant as a summer flower, but it has stood through hardships none of them could bear: the cold rain of winter has sufficed to nourish it, and its faint sun to warm it; the bleak winds have not blanched it, or broken its stem, and the keen frost has not blighted it. Look, Gilbert, it is still fresh and blooming as a flower can be, with the cold snow even now on its petals.--Will you have it?'" pg. 465 (Beautiful analogy!)
Book: borrowed from Skyline College library.
I think Anne Bronte is the little known sister but should be better known as her writing is sublime and really for the time of the writing of this novel before her time. Feminist leanings in this book most definitely shine through and i can only surmise that this is through her own dealings of where she worked herself as a governess for a while and also from her upbringing. I believe her father brought them up quite liberally and this is why we have such great writing from all of them. I feel that if Anne had lived longer she would have written more and potentially produce better works than her sisters, although taking nothing away from them as their writing is also brilliant. I just wish more people would find Anne and see what a good writer she also was and not always go to the obvious sisters! Her observations on addiction and how it effects everyone not just the addict again is so before her time, living with her brother would have given her this insight and she rights sensitively although at times for the reader at the time maybe too much fire and brimstone, having said that this is a good piece of work and should be read if you are looking for a read of good writing (although sometimes clunky,but she is forgiven as she was honing her skills) and a good story of love, addiction and at times obsession then this is the book for you.
dark
emotional
funny
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
the brontë sisters rlly invented the 1st person in the 18th century 💋 OH, the grovelling. gilbert was literally ready to burn the world down for her 😭💕 anyway, helen had me frustrated like girl make up your mind!! she’s complicated. let’s not forget when gilbert smacked her brother with a whip out of pure jealousy 😭 THAT SHIT WAS HILARIOUS
Did Anne Bronte write the first incel character in English literature?
This was a rough read, but I'm glad I did it. I can see why publishers in Bronte's time and thereafter, until recently, have censored this book down to almost nothing. How many young women might've been spared a similar misery in their own lives had they been exposed to the full brunt of this cautionary tale. Had the publisher's concerns about their "feminine sensibilities" not been so overbearing.
Or as Anne wrote herself: “Oh reader! If there were less of this delicate concealing of facts – this whispering, ‘Peace, peace’ when there is no peace – there would be less of sin and misery to the young of both sexes who are left to wring their bitter knowledge from experience.”
This was a rough read, but I'm glad I did it. I can see why publishers in Bronte's time and thereafter, until recently, have censored this book down to almost nothing. How many young women might've been spared a similar misery in their own lives had they been exposed to the full brunt of this cautionary tale. Had the publisher's concerns about their "feminine sensibilities" not been so overbearing.
Or as Anne wrote herself: “Oh reader! If there were less of this delicate concealing of facts – this whispering, ‘Peace, peace’ when there is no peace – there would be less of sin and misery to the young of both sexes who are left to wring their bitter knowledge from experience.”
emotional
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
