Despite reading both Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights at a young age, I never got around to reading either of the final Brontë sister’s (Anne) work until now. This is due in part to taking a disliking to the aforementioned Brontë works (I never could forgive Charlotte for linking the strong willed and likeable Jane with the detestable and woefully inadequate Rochester. You don’t want to get me started on Heathcliff.), so it was with some reserve that I finally picked up The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.
I actually bought this rather battered looking copy last year in Bratislava. The shop I found it in not only had a substantial English book section but also boasted it’s very own, in-store wine bar. I know, brilliant idea, right? After the initial distraction of the availability of wine in a bookstore had passed, I got even more excited by the sight of shelves full of old style Penguin Classics. Their creamy spines cannot fail to set off a wave of nostalgia in me as it was through this particular series of books that my teenage self discovered an enduring love for the Classics and some of my top reads of all time.
After lugging it around half of Europe in a backpack, my copy of The Tenant languished on my bookshelf until I challenged myself to my Reading Resolution. When I finally started reading it, I was pleasantly surprised. For a start, Anne’s style of writing is very different to her sisters. Doing away with the sweeping Gothicism and romance of the former, Anne focuses on realism, on events and people with a more limited scope. This tone gives the novel a more intimate feeling
In Helen Huntington, Brontë created a very likeable character, despite her tendency to steer her towards two-dimensional sainthood. Helen does everything her own way, independent of the men in her life. This aspect of the novel has often led it to be cited as the first truly feminist novel. Whilst the feminist angle is an important part of the book, the main plot point revolves around the importance of clean living and the evils of alcohol. Helen is presented as an antithesis to this evil: the most morally upright, sensible and just character within the book.
Written in epistolary format as letters from Gilbert Markham to his friend about the mysterious new tenant of Wildfell Hall and as extracts from said tenant’s diary, the novel starts slowly and doesn’t really pick up the pace until it ditches Markahm’s stilted voice for the livelier viewpoint of Helen Huntington. Until this point, it feels like a lot of time is being spent setting the scene and it was quite a slog wading through the minutiae of the story before my hard work began to pay dividends.
The story has been padded out quite a bit. It could easily be cut by two thirds and have the same impact. There’s a lot of repetition of scenes and themes, mostly set in motion to hammer home Helen’s plight. Endless scenes of drunken revelry in her home and arguments with her husband help to explain why Helen takes such an unprecedented step (for a woman in the nineteenth century) by opting to leave her husband and taking significant measures to make sure he cannot find her, but they are featured so often that they loose their impact as the book continues. Some of these scenes could have been cut to help with the pacing without the story or the book’s didactic message being lost. Perhaps I am viewing this from a modern perspective, used to the relatively clipped and controlled style of pacing and turn of phrase of the modern writer, but whilst Brontë’s contemporaries may have written in a similar fashion, only a mere handful would insist on setting the scene quite so thoroughly as she does.
Nevertheless, the story wears well with age mainly due to the excellent characterisation of human nature. Most people have met an Arthur Huntington ie: someone with their finger on their self-destruct button and have some idea of the fallout which such a destructive personality can cause. It’s also easy to sympathise with the character of Helen, despite her seeming saintliness, because she is inherently flawed. The plot is driven by her single and most costly lack of judgement: believing that she could save Arthur Huntington. Through her diary we are shown that she recognises and acknowledged the existence of the major character flaws and traits which threaten to consume Arthur and see that she believes that she is sagacious and wise enough to act as his personal saviour. The misery she later endures at his hand all turns on this moment of blinding pride in her own abilities and through this costly mistake, she easily gains the sympathy of readers.
Sometimes difficult to read (both because of its subject matter which can be seen as a mirror to real life and because of its rather overpowering moral message) The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is an excellent example of character study. A certain degree of mental preparation should be undertaken before reading this worthy (in the old fashioned sense of the word) book, which all too easily slips from novel into morality lecture, an effect which at times makes continuing reading quite difficult and a bit draining.
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