The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (Penguin Popular Classics) (Paperback)

Assuming a new name and establishing herself as an artist to support herself and her son, Helen finds herself the subject of gossip and mistrust amongst almost all of the local population. Although living in constant fear of discovery by her husband, Helen attempts to make a success of her new life, a life made more bearable by the friendship of local yeoman farmer Gilbert.

But will Helens secret identity be able to remain a secret forever or will her past eventually catch up with her and threaten to destroy her budding romance with Gilbert?

This is an extremely well written book and is rather neglected alongside the successful novels written by her sisters Emily and Charlotte Bronte.

The book contains the passion and drama set around the Moors which you would expect from a Bronte, but it also presents an interesting critique about the place and role of women in 19th century England.

This classic novel is well worth reading.

It traces, with remarkable frankness, the collapse of a woman's marriage to an abusive husband (who is loosely based on Brontë's brother Branwell), and her escape from him. The characters have odd and endearing foibles, and one never loses interest as the book progresses.

Despite the Brontes being ordinary to the point of obscurity, three of the six children went on to become famous novelists, making them one of history's most extraordinary literary families. Like many people, I decided to read the most noted work of each of the three; Charlotte's Jane Eyre, Emily's Wuthering Heights, and finally Anne's Tenant of Wildfell Hall. They are all complex, imaginative, atmospheric romantic sagas with dark, obsessive undertones. Charlotte is the most accomplished writer of the three and Jane Eyre remains the perfect romance. Wuthering Heights, despite its imaginative force, is an overheated, masochistic fantasy with a male protagonist too unremittingly cruel to pass muster as a romantic hero. Somewhere in the middle comes Tenant which, while not quite matching Charlotte's depth of feeling or stylistic skill, provides a compelling narrative, employs sympathetic characters and tackles socially important issues in a convincing manner.

The central characters have that anal-retentiveness that was characteristic of Victorian British gentlefolk. Bound by convention and duty to God and country, they can seem frustratingly inert to modern readers. You feel you want to shake them and say, "For Heaven's sake, just tell her how you feel!" or, "If he's so bad, leave him!" But this conflict between personal fulfillment and societal expectation is a large part of what the story is about. It no doubt accurately reflects contemporary attitudes and gives us a valuable insight into those times.

I will not summarize the plot, being averse to spoilers, and would recommend you avoid other reviews, including editorial ones, if you share that aversion, although that warning is probably too late. I will say it is blessedly free of the coincidences that bedevil nineteenth-century novels - including Jane Eyre - and is a classic example of a character-driven plot. The only aspect I could not quite fathom was the startlingly hostile and resentful attitude of the hero toward another of the male characters, at one time spilling over into physical violence. I understood his complaints against this man but his actions seemed inordinately belligerent and out of character.

The ending is interesting in terms of technique. The author draws it out, taking time off here and there to describe how the minor characters ended up. This may all seem a little too neat for some readers but will satisfy those of us who abhor loose ends.