The Tenant of Wildfell Hall
By: Anne Brontë
Originally published: June 1848
Review by Ira Tate
This isn’t the usual type of romance novel yours truly would review for this particular blog. But, there is a reason for my madness! It all starts with the maxim “reformed rakes make the best husbands”. The historical romance genre seems to love this phrase so much that every other book will have the story about a shameless womanizer, gambler and libertine (who in real life would be suffering from venereal diseases and late stage liver cirrhosis) gets taken by an innocent virgin who makes him change his ways and turn him into an ideal husband.Sure, the course of true love never runs smooth and the heroes will endure struggles before they can be together but ultimately there will be a happy end, because love! And you will say, ‘Hey, Ira, romance novels are an escape - it’s not a doctrine to live your real life by, so why are you getting your panties in a twist?’ And on that I will agree with you, but there is a but. Sometimes authors normalize and excuse abusive relationships between a young innocent woman and an experienced man-ho, in the name of love (see our review for Whitney, My Love). This is especially prevalent in older romance novels, i.e. the bodice rippers of the 80s and early 90s, but can still be found to some degree in more recent publications. The long and the short of it, it’s cool if this is your fantasy but it may not necessarily be cool for everyone, especially younger readers who are just getting into the genre and may not have had many experiences with relationships themselves yet. So what does this have to do with the review for The Tenant of Wildfell Hall? Well, this book completely dispels any notions one may have about the ‘reformed rake’ business (well not entirely, since there is a reformed secondary rake in the novel but his reason for change isn’t quite love). It tells a story of how such a relationship would likely play out and why in the historical setting it was especially problematic given that women were basically their husbands’ property and had no recourse in such cases.
Now let me backup and give you the context for this novel. Anne Brontë, pen name, Acton Bell, is probably the lesser known of the Brontë sisters, but that shouldn’t stop you from reading this novel. There are many reasons why Anne’s works haven’t been as well recognized as the works of Emily and Charlotte, one having to do with the fact that this particular novel had received a lot of backlash when it was first published in how it portrayed women, men and marriage. This book is not plot driven but is more reflective. It also espouses rather powerful feminist views and this just wasn’t done in the 19th century.
The story is told in a series of letters from Gilbert Markham that describes the time when he met a mysterious young widow who moved into an abandoned mansion near his farm. The book is broken down into three volumes. In the first, we meet the widow, Helen Graham. She is described as a recluse who makes an independent living for herself and her son as an artist (which was very rare in those days). Despite her initially cold demeanor and offstandish disposition, Gilbert cannot help but fall in love with the beautiful Helen as he gradually gets to know her. Circumstances of her arrival and Helen’s secretive behaviour prevents them from being together and leads to unfortunate misunderstandings both between Helen and Gilbert and within the community. It is not until Helen rips out pages from her diary and gives them to Gilbert that we learn the reason behind this.
Which brings us to the second volume of the book that goes through Helen’s diary. It is probably the most poignant part of the book and also the most powerful as it describes how Helen is not actually Mrs. Graham but Mrs. Huntington, who left her husband after years of abuse towards her, and later her son. Interestingly enough, the portrait of the dissolute rake of a husband, Mr. Huntington, is inspired by Anne’s very own brother. We learn how Helen falls first for her husband, despite her aunt’s advice, and how briefly they are happy but as he spirals out of control his actions towards her become profoundly disturbing. He openly has an affair in front of Helen, demeans her, rapes her (marital rape was very much legal back then), and the list of abuse goes on. The book also shows that there is little recourse for Helen in her situation. There are significant moral and religious themes at play in the book and ultimately Helen flees her husband to shield her son from his influence. The third volume reconciles Helen’s past and the present, and without giving much away, her and Gilbert get their happy ending.
Now this story, I understand, was not received well by some readers at the time this novel was published, because a woman who dared refuse her husband his marital rights, a woman who later left her husband and ended up having an independent and happy life without him, a woman who, as a result, had not suffered some sort of punishment from above, was unheard of. So you go Anne for giving our heroine a happy ending that she so desperately needed!
Overall, I liked this book. Anne wrote it as a warning to young women (and also to young men) and very much succeeded in that. It wasn’t an easy read but it gives you important context of marriage, women’s rights, and religion back in the 19th century. I won’t wax on about modern historical romance novels and the fact that they often gloss over the latter two aspects, but they are a lens that one ought to consider even when one tries to escape from real life. Anne’s writing is perhaps more understated than that of her more famous sisters, but this work shouldn’t be overlooked for that reason. Overall, I thought this was 4 stars out of 5. I will end this review with Helen’s speech, as unfortunately, I think in some places in the world, this view, that Helen argues against, is still very much held. And while overall great strides have been made in women’s rights, the fact is, these rights can be easily eroded if we let them under the guise of morality, economic prosperity, religion, and entertainment.
‘Well, then, it must be that you think they are both weak and prone to err, and the slightest error, the merest shadow of pollution, will ruin the one, while the character of the other will be strengthened and embellished—his education properly finished by a little practical acquaintance with forbidden things. Such experience, to him (to use a trite simile), will be like the storm to the oak, which, though it may scatter the leaves, and snap the smaller branches, serves but to rivet the roots, and to harden and condense the fibres of the tree. You would have us encourage our sons to prove all things by their own experience, while our daughters must not even profit by the experience of others. Now I would have both so to benefit by the experience of others, and the precepts of a higher authority, that they should know beforehand to refuse the evil and choose the good, and require no experimental proofs to teach them the evil of transgression. I would not send a poor girl into the world, unarmed against her foes, and ignorant of the snares that beset her path; nor would I watch and guard her, till, deprived of self-respect and self-reliance, she lost the power or the will to watch and guard herself;—and as for my son—if I thought he would grow up to be what you call a man of the world—one that has “seen life,” and glories in his experience, even though he should so far profit by it as to sober down, at length, into a useful and respected member of society—I would rather that he died to-morrow!—rather a thousand times!’ she earnestly repeated, pressing her darling to her side and kissing his forehead with intense affection. He had already left his new companion, and been standing for some time beside his mother’s knee, looking up into her face, and listening in silent wonder to her incomprehensible discourse. (Anne Brontë, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall)
Verdict:
4 out of 5 stars
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