Review: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë

I haven't had much success with Anne Brontë in the past - I've read Agnes Grey but was too simultaneously bored and grossed out by it to say I enjoyed it. However, I was in a Brontë mood after a recent trip to Haworth and the Parsonage (it's about 15 minutes away from my house - no excuse) and the pretty Penguin English Library edition was screaming for my attention from the shelf. Please don't let there be baby-bird-squishing in this one...

Plot summary: Gilbert Markham is deeply intrigued by Helen Graham, a beautiful and secretive young widow who has moved into nearby Wildfell Hall with her young son. He is quick to offer Helen his friendship, but when her reclusive behavior becomes the subject of local gossip and speculation, Gilbert begins to wonder whether his trust in her has been misplaced. It is only when she allows Gilbert to read her diary that the truth is revealed and the shocking details of her past.

I started loving The Tenant of Wildfell Hall almost immediately. I knew next to nothing about the story - for some reason, I had in my head that it was about a young family that lived next door to Wildfell Hall, which was full of ill repute and shame... but apparently not. It did mean that every turn and new character was an absolute surprise, so I was able to discover new revelations at the same time as Gilbert, the narrator.

That took some getting used to, by the way. I didn't realise immediately that the main character was male, which led to some slightly confusing moments. It was partly my own fault for just assuming that the narrator would be female (as is the case with most Brontë novels) but I also can't help but think that the voice just 'sounds' female. Ah well, no harm done.

Whilst I wasn't overfond of Gilbert (the man basically assaults a Pastor and then gets all huffy when said Pastor doesn't want his help to stand up), I really did like Helen, at least to begin with. I felt super defensive of her when the townsfolk were all snooty and smug, which is always the mark of good writing. She does get very preachy and condescending from the 2/3 point or so - and unnecessarily mean to Walter.

It's almost like she grows a backbone... but then has it surgically removed just to prove what a moral and grovelling person she is. The book does give a reason for her doing that, so I suppose (grdugingly) that it does make sense but it doesn't mean I have to like it... *grumbles*

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is massively ahead of its time. It's no surprise at all that it didn't get a good reception when it was first released. It seems to poke fun at those who would prefer women to be meek and silent, which is odd because that's kind of how I think of the Brontës. It also speaks out against domestic violence, which you pretty much weren't allowed to do in 18-whatever (EDIT: 48!). It's interesting to see the difference between modern pro-women literature and this book, which has to be oh-so-much more subtle.

It’s your business to please yourself, and hers to please you. I’m sure your poor, dear father was as good a husband as ever lived, and after the first six months or so were over, I should as soon have expected him to fly, as to put himself out of his way to pleasure me. He always said I was a good wife, and did my duty; and he always did his—bless him!—he was steady and punctual, seldom found fault without a reason, always did justice to my good dinners, and hardly ever spoiled my cookery by delay— and that’s as much as any woman can expect of any man.

Awesome. All I ever wanted was a man who shows up on time for me to feed him. Be still my beating heart.
I loathed Arthur, simply because he could be real (and probably is). He never hit, slapped or raped Helen once, but the novel doesn't shy away from saying that abuse doesn't have to be physical. Hell, that's a concept many people struggle with today. I suspect that Anne Brontë drew on her brother's behaviour as inspiration for this book, and if so, then I pity her posthumously.

Her gradual change of feelings towards him is very well done. It's subtle and actually almost masterful, instead of having Helen just wake-up one morning and realise that her husband is abusive. She slowly grows stronger as he tests her endurance daily... which is why it's so infuriating when she regresses a little.

    He would not hear of my attending the funeral, or going for a day or two, to cheer poor Frederick's solitude. It was quite unnecessary, he said, and I was unreasonable to wish it. ... 'Besides, dear Helen,' said he, embracing me with flattering fondness, 'I cannot spare you for a single day.'
    'Then how have you managed without me these many days?' said I.
    'Ah! then I was knocking about the world, now I am at home, and home without you, my household deity, would be intolerable.'
    'Yes, as long as I am necessary to your comfort; but you did not say so before, when you urged me to leave you, in order that you might get away from your home without me,' retorted I; but before the words were well out of my mouth, I regretted having uttered them. It seemed so heavy a charge: if false, too gross an insult; if true, too humiliating a fact to be thus openly cast in his teeth. But I might have spared myself that momentary pang of self- reproach. The accusation awoke neither shame nor indignation in him: he attempted neither denial nor excuse, but only answered with a long, low, chuckling laugh, as if he viewed the whole transaction as a clever, merry jest from beginning to end. Surely that man will make me dislike him at last!

I admit that it got a little tedious between the end of Helen's story and the end of the book, when the narrative switches back to Gilbert. I felt that it slowed down the pace of the book somewhat and the whole thing could have been wrapped up a lot quicker. I understand it was necessary to learn about Gilbert's reaction but perhaps not in quite so much detail.

To conclude, I ended up enjoying The Tenant of Wildfell Hall way more than I expected to. It's a very character-driven novel, but the detail with which they're written is almost unbelievable. I felt desperately sorry for Helen, wanted to do vile things to Arthur and even resisted scowling at Gilbert too much. I'd even go so far as to say that this book is the second best Brontë novel.

Read Bex's review of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall at An Armchair by the Sea - although her review is eerily similar to mine!  

Review: The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne

I bought this a good few months ago for two reasons: a) as an attempt to bump up my reading of classics and, less intelligently b) because the Vintage Classic editions all look nice on a shelf together. I finally picked it up last week and although it took me a while to plough through it, I don't regret a single minute spent.

Hester Prynne is a beautiful young woman. She is also an outcast. In the eyes of her neighbours she has committed an unforgivable sin. Everyone knows that her little daughter, Pearl, is the product of an illicit affair but no one knows the identity of Pearl's father. Hester's refusal to name him brings more condemnation upon her. But she stands strong in the face of public scorn, even when she is forced to wear the sign of her shame sewn onto her clothes: the scarlet letter 'A' for 'Adulteress.'

The plot of the novel isn't much explained on the blurb - it explains Hester's situation, but not the emotional journey she faces throughout. In fact, it's not even primarily about her. The point of view stays mostly with the father of the child, with a little about Pearl and less about her mother. I won't mention who the father actually is, although he's identified to the reader fairly early on. Regardless of his identity, the novel narrates his struggle with the burden of his sin - he has not been punished as Hester has and so feels the weight more heavily.

I had steeled myself for a novel-length lecture on weakness and untrustworthiness of women, while men are strong but are tempted to sin by those evil women. In fact, I found it fairly pro-women. A lot of reviews have slated it as anti-feminist but I really, really don't see it. Obviously Hester is spurned by her village (it's set in the 1640s, after all) for her adultery, but she is ordered several times to name the father so he can be adequately punished also. It's mentioned several times they're both condemned, not just her. The narrative seems to pity her somewhat - she always holds herself with dignity and fervently tries to repent for her sin. The reader's attention is often drawn to this in an attempt to make us feel for her what her village cannot.

My copy of The Scarlet Letter has a huge red 'A' stamped on the front, but it would be impossible to forget it regardless. Mr. Hawthorne calls attention to it frequently so Hester is somehow embodied by that one red patch of colour. It almost has a life of its own - it's what the townsfolk see when they look at her and Pearl can't quite get past the symbol embroidered on her mother's chest. It's a very moving piece of imagery.

It's not really light reading. It's taken me a good few days to struggle through, to be honest. The story is wonderful, but the prose and dialogue can be a bit... stodgy. Although it was written in 1850, it's set two hundred years earlier and the syntax reflects that. It's rather preachy and moralistic, but that's only to be expected. I'd only recommend picking it up if you're willing to exert a lot of time and effort into it. It's definitely worth it, but it's a slog.

I really liked the ending, although it's not what I would have expected. It's not happy nor sad, but it is a fitting conclusion. It was especially clever how the townsfolk each adapted the spectacle to suit their own beliefs and wishes. That's what the book was about, for me - about the emotion and judgement of regular people, and how sin can more easily be borne when it's not kept to yourself.

The Graduate by Charles Webb

Right then. So you'll be glad to know I haven't actually died, but it's been a hectic week of moving into two different houses (neither of which had Internet access) and accepting tht as all my wordly possessions are shoved into boxes that I really don't want to unpack, I'll be living in the same set of clothes for years to come.

Anyway, I have a ridiculous of catching up to do on Booking In Heels, so bear with me.

Amazon - 'As far as Benjamin Braddock’s parents are concerned, his future is sewn up. Now he has graduated from college, he will go to Yale or Harvard, get a good job and enjoy a life of money, cocktails and pool parties in the suburbs, just like them. For Benjamin, however, this isn’t quite enough. When his parents’ friend Mrs Robinson, a formidable older woman, strips naked in front of him and they begin an affair, it seems he might have found a way out. That is, until her daughter Elaine comes into the picture, and things get far more complicated.'

I expected great things from this novel, as it's practically a cult classic. There's even been a song written about it, for God's sake. I tried to like it, I really did, as I always assume that books are made into films and rereleased dozens of times for some supposed literary merit... but my Literary Merit Detector must be broken today, because I just don't see it.

The plot is fairly standard - older woman meets younger boy, they have sex a lot. Younger boy apparently falls in love with older woman's daughter, but is actually just a little bit of a creepy stalker. Terrible dialogue ensues. It did genuinely shock me on a few occasions though - not because of the relationship (you know you need to think seriously about your reading habits when you believe a 45 year old married woman messing about with a 21 year old boy is perfectly normal), but because of the occasional plot twist and the way Benjamin is pretty much abused by everybody in his life.

There was one thing that really irked me though, and I've just flipped back and it's justified. There isn't one single piece of conversation where the characters aren't arguing or sniping at each other. Not one. I've never read a book that features such an array of unlikeable characters, especially Ben himself. He's meant to be a mature, accomplished college graduate, and instead he just whines and shouts and sighs like a spoilt teenager. 

It wouldn't be so bad if it was good dialogue. It just feels so stilted. Half the time the characters just repeat the words of the other characters back at them. It never flows, it never feels natural... it's just angry, unrealistic, badly-written sniping. It's this that really lets the book down - if it could just be rewritten by an author with a knack for dialogue and characters you could at understand, it would be an enjoyable little novella.

I've just remembered that there's a pub in Sheffield called The Graduate. I'm now slightly over-excited in case its a previously undiscovered book reference!