The Obscure Reading Group discussion

This first week of discussion is on events in Volume I of Anne Brontë's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.

To avoid spoilers that might ruin the reading experience of others, be sure to confine all comments to events in Volume I only.

Thanks -- and enjoy!

P.S. And yes, the book group police will not arrest you if you comment a day early. Completely up to you because, by God, it's February 1st somewhere!

I will begin at the beginning. I could see that Brontë was writing a somewhat feminist novel(for her time). I have four sons, and so I found the conversations in chapter one about raising boys quite interesting. Mrs. Graham’s protection of her son brought criticism about whether it’s better to keep a boy away from temptation or teach him to resist it. Have girls always been coddled more than boys, “delicately nurtured like a hothouse plant”? I wanted to discuss this and see if you thought Brontë was sympathetic with Mrs. Graham. And I also dislike every male character. I’m not sure if I like any of the females either!

I agree with you Sandra on some points. I think if you discourage certain behaviors in boys or girls they have a positive effect only so far. We know peer pressure is strong.

I do think girls were coddled more and in some instances it occurs in cultures even today. I think due to a patriarchal society still prevalent today. We can only look at what is here in US with women backing certain beliefs.

In ancient cultures, women were the rock of society. Men were the hunters. They were gone upward of to many years. Women were quite resilient in finding food, building homes, cultivated the land . Raising children etc. Then all of a sudden women lost their brains somewhere.

I think Anne found sympathy with women being on an unequal footing as men.

I found the men to be condescending, Gilbert did admire Helen for her conversations. He , I think will become more likable as the novel progresses. Right now I am questioning whether this would have been a novel not taken seriously. Bronte seems to be approaching the meat of the book. Addressing the social structure, going to be interesting to see how she developed it.

I like the the private, seemingly independent Mrs. Graham of the first part of the story rather than the naive Ms. Graham who falls for Arthur Huntingdon's manipulations but I guess time will tell how that will pan out as we progress into the middle and end sections of the book. I agree, however, that none of the other characters are entirely likeable. Gilbert Markham disappointed me with his violence toward Mr. Lawrence. I just did not understand that and even if he was jealous it seemed like an overreaction that was not entirely plausible from a story point of view.

I remember thinking about the way we raised our two sons and thinking about what kind of parents we were. It also reminded me of contemporary criticisms of over-protective and/or helicopter parents vs. those that follow the "boys will be boys" type of parenting style.

The first couple of chapters were a bit of a slog until I could get used to the writing style. This is only the second 19th century novel I have read after Jude the Obscure so it is a bit of a shift to get used to the phrasing and vocabulary. This is not to say that I didn't like it, however. I couldn't help myself but start to enjoy the story.

Then the shift to Helen's backstory happened and it became less enjoyable and, because I think many of us can see where Helen's relationship with Arthur Huntingdon is heading, it made the story less enjoyable thinking about that.

Sandra - Yes, I too think this is one of the first feminist novels, and I like the mysterious Helen very much. Interestingly, we see her feelings "exposed" only in her journal, whereas Gilbert's immature emotions are there for all to see, in his behaviour - not just for us, through being the narrator.

Carol - Yes, the men are condescending, but that fits the time, doesn't it. They were assumed to know better than the women, even though as we saw, Gilbert was pettish and starstruck, whereas Helen is clear-sighted and has her feet on the ground. On the other hand, we see examples of devious, frivolous young women too.

Both Helen's aunt and Gilbert's mother both accept that "the man knows better". In their little homilies on marraige, they both stress duty by the woman and leaderhip by the man.

"I think Anne found sympathy with women being on an unequal footing as men."

Definitely. She says as much in her introduction, defending herself against the "bitter censure" she received from some quarters. I particularly like this part:

"I wished to tell the truth, for truth always conveys its own moral to those who are able to receive it."

And of course she published this as a man: Acton Bell, saying "if a book is a good one, it is so whatever the sex of the author may be. All novels are, or should be, written for both men and women to read,"

It's hard really for us to know whether would react differently to the book, had we assumed the author was male - though I definitely agree with her here!

Darrin - the "private, seemingly independent Mrs. Graham of the first part of the story" is more or less the same as as Gilbert. She is 25 or 26, and he says he "was young then, remember—only four-and-twenty" yet she seem so much more mature! She has clearly seen much more of the world, from what she says.

"the naive Ms. Graham who falls for Arthur Huntingdon's manipulations" is only 18. We don't see Gilbert at this age, although we do see Fergus (I'm not sure how old he is), who is even more boyish and frivolous.

It strikes me that Gilbert, in his crush on Eliza Millward, the vicar’s younger daughter, a very engaging little creature, - rather charming than pretty. eyes diabolically—wicked, or irresistibly bewitching" is behaving in a more commensurate fashion with the impressionable 18 year old Helen!

We can't really blame the 18 year old Helen for falling for the charismatic Huntingdon's "ineffable but indefinite charm, which cast a halo over all he did and said", especially when the other suitors on offer seem to be 40, and want to improve her! But Gilbert, at 24, really should have known better than to fall for a pretty face - and thankfully he does grow up quite quickly over these chapters.

I like this focus, as many Victorian writers accepted the convention of the time, i.e. that an older husband was desirable. He would then "educate" her. But Anne Brontë makes it clear by her unflattering portrait of boring Mr. Boarham (what a fanastically appropriate name!) that she does not agree. Helen is a mouthpiece for the author's own views. Here is boring Boarham:

"I shall not be severe to mark the faults and foibles of a young and ardent nature such as yours, and while I acknowledge them to myself, and even rebuke them with all a father’s care ... let me hope that my more experienced years and graver habits of reflection will be no disparagement in your eyes ... her little defects of temper and errors of judgment, opinion, or manner were not irremediable, but might easily be removed or mitigated by the patient efforts of a watchful and judicious adviser,"

Helen's abhorrence of this patronising twerp is refreshingly modern. She says this to her aunt:

"he is narrow-minded and bigoted in the extreme; thirdly, his tastes and feelings are wholly dissimilar to mine; fourthly, his looks, voice, and manner are particularly displeasing to me; and, finally, I have an aversion to his whole person that I never can surmount.”

Yay for Helen - even at 18! And as soon as she meets the Markhams and their friends (in her mid-20s now) she loses no time in telling them her views on what is important - although they just wish to indulge in small talk.

Darrin wrote: "The first couple of chapters were a bit of a slog until I could get used to the writing style ... Then the shift to Helen's backstory happened and it became less enjoyable..."

Darren, you describe exactly how I felt! I wondered if Anne changed her style after the first chapter or so, but I'm sure it was just me getting used to it. Then when she changed voices to Helen's diaries, it felt so clunky again until I got used to that.

I have to say that I went into this skeptical. I didn't like Agnes Grey very much. But I agree with what Darren said: "I couldn't help but enjoy myself." This is very readable! As much as I probably prefer the intensity of Emily and Charlotte, there is something to Anne's style, and I'm excited about exploring it.

Two things to Sandra's interesting comment.

I don't have kids, but was definitely parented differently than my brothers (this was a LONG time ago). I certainly wasn't delicately nurtured, but I was overly protected, where to my brothers, my parents applied a hands-off "boys-will-be-boys" approach. I fought against this to varying degrees of success, and their different approaches led to a mixed bag of results. Personally, I think the proper approach has nothing to do with gender but might have to do with personality.

And as far as the characters, I like them all! But that's typical of me. :-) (Even if Gilbert's treatment of Mr. Lawrence was unforgivable.)

Now I know why Jack Halford said, "I wish Twitter were invented sooner!!"

No. Just kidding. We are ALL Jack Halford, aren't we, and we have little choice but to respect our friend Gilbert's time and effort in writing these... letters? But, conveniently enough, Jack is said to "like long stories." Man, was he born in the right century!

Anyway, as a fan of Russian novels, I'll make this one observation for tonight. The fact that Gilbert was a rich man running a large estate that makes its income via agriculture made me think of Tolstoy, specifically Levin in Anna Karenina.

The comparison stops there, however, as Levin is a pretty sophisticated fill-in for Tolstoy himself who thinks too much. Or gets philosophical, maybe. Or mixes it up with the peasants by walking out into the field and working with them all day, just to see what it's like, just to show he is a "man of the people."

Can I imagine Gilbert doing as much? Ha-ha to that.

More tomorrow on the raising sons issue. I've raised a son and a daughter, but grew up in a family of four sons and have no sisters. Having a daughter was an education.

I am nearly done with this week’s reading and finding myself more engaged. For me, it felt like the story picked up once the cattiness began to rise and emotions increased. Gilbert’s treatment of Lawrence was over the top but also reminds me of moments in other Victorian novels. Helen’s diary does appear to be a slowing of tempo in the story but I have a feeling it will pick up again.

I have had the strange feeling while I have been reading that I have read this book before. Some scenes seem so familiar. But I know I haven’t. Is it the use of many Victorian tropes or general feeling of scenes, perhaps? An odd sensation.

Kathleen wrote: " when she changed voices to Helen's diaries, it felt so clunky again until I got used to that ..."

I think this shows the skill of the author. The Helen of the diaries was 8 years younger than the Helen, tenant of Wildfell Hall. If you've ever come across letters or diaries you kept as a teenager, and compared them with ones you wrote in your midtwenties, both the style and the concerns are very different! (At least they were for me). This comes across very well, in my opinion.

Ken wrote: "Can I imagine Gilbert doing as much? Ha-ha to that..."

That was odd, wasn't it? It's as if Gilbert just wanted an energetic day out, rather than showing the peasants he could work as hard - and I noticed he was more than happy for Fergus to take his place!

Sue wrote: "I have had the strange feeling while I have been reading that I have read this book before... Is it the use of many Victorian tropes or general feeling of scenes, perhaps?..."

I like the letter format, despite Ken's droll observation that it is a very long letter ;) But it's a comfortable Victorian style for novels, isn't it. Some are entirely exchanges of letters! So perhaps it's that? Also, the "letter within a letter" as we have here, is familiar too.

OK. About that little tiff between the two "hams," Mrs. Markham (Gilbert's mum) and Mrs. Graham (Helen of Wildfell Hall). I think a lot rides on what each reader brings to the table in the way of, um, baggage.

Me, I'm old. Not old enough to be getting winter vaccinations, alas, but old. Growing up in the 60s, I learned the joys of a helicopter-free life (they were all in Vietnam, apparently). My parents shoved us boys out the door initially, and then we went out of our own accord, ranging far and wide with little if any parental contact for, oh, the entire day, say.

Meaning: My instinct is to side with Mrs. Markham. Quit coddling the kid, lest he grow into Little Lord Fauntleroy (not sure where Fauntleroy comes from, but I know he's a poster child for the soft sorts).

On the other hand, I agree that it isn't for Mrs. Markham to say. As the 21st century parent ahead of her time in the 19th, Mrs. Graham has the right to keep Arthur on a tight leash, to schedule play dates for him with Gilbert's dog, to grow indignant when a woman who has raised two sons (included one she is falling in love with) tells her how to grow manly-mans, as they call them.

See? Baggage. The old reader-writer contract, each with a set of rights we hold to be self-evident. My gut goes with the Markhams even while my cool-headed logic realizes Graham is within her rights.

Regardless of what I think about the argument on raising boys vs girls in the book, (I fall on the side of letting kids have freedom to make bad choices and learn from them, male OR female), I was incensed that Mrs. Markham thought she had the right to lecture Helen on how to raise her son. And then to send the clergyman to do the same! What a meddling old busy body she was, hiding under the cloak of being concerned. The neighbors were just as bad. Her preferential treatment of Gilbert over Rose and Fergus was awful, as well as her opinion on what makes a good wife. And her meddling in Gilbert's love life was just as bad. I think I dislike her more than anyone else in this novel so far.
As far as the melodrama, I realize that in the 1820's, there was no TV, radio, internet, etc, books were not that readily available, travel was difficult so most people stayed in their community, and as a result, living in one's own head and making mountains out of molehills was a form of entertainment. As was gossip. Those little gatherings that Mrs. Markham has were an early form of Facebook, lol.
Re the letter format: Was the letter that begins the book an attempt by the author to dupe readers into thinking she was a male author?

I found the child-raising discussion very interesting and ahead of its time too. Though I don't feel I'm in a position to comment, as I can't imagine I'll be having children, if ever, for many years still, I did feel as if Mrs Graham had a flawed view of it. Then again, I also found her ideas about not raising boys and girls differently very interesting.

It reminded me of my auntie, who I suppose, is a little like Mrs Graham in this situation. She refuses any mention of animals when her children are eating chicken, for example, not to tell them, or remind them, that what is on their plate was once clucking around. Also, I was scolded for playing Hangman with them, because it is, apparently, too violent.

However, I do think Mrs Graham's ideas were also, in a sense, modern, even by today's standards. There's a lot about how men are raised coldly and expected to become masculine, and how this affects mental health; rather, now, it seems more people are becoming aware of men and how they should, or can be, more sensitive, and above all, "allowed" to cry.

Diane wrote: "Regardless of what I think about the argument on raising boys vs girls in the book, (I fall on the side of letting kids have freedom to make bad choices and learn from them, male OR female), I was ..."

Thank you for using the word "melodrama." My God. By the time I pulled into the tavern at the end of Section One, I needed a beer. When I taught middle school, I began to notice that a lot of life -- even among adults -- is middle school.

You see it in Gilbert's treatment of Helen. You know, giving her the cold shoulder when he feels slighted. Hiding his emotions when speaking to her so he has the upper hand. Punching his opponent and leaving him the ditch, hoping he won't be caught and given a detention or something.

Then the politics of who sits where at that little dinner. Middle school lunch and the geo-political positions of claimed tables (including who sits next to whom) -- it all rushed back.

Did someone say catty? And is this really "manly," Mr. Markham?

Matthew wrote: "I found the child-raising discussion very interesting and ahead of its time too. Though I don't feel I'm in a position to comment, as I can't imagine I'll be having children, if ever, for many year..."

Never say never when it comes to children. Life deals different cards as the situation unfolds around you over the years.

Still, there's the generational thing. My daughter was astounded to hear that her parents married at age 25. "So young!" she said.

Young? My parents married at age 18, just out of high school, just before Dad went into the Navy.

And let's not forget Romeo (15) and Juliet (13). In medieval days, puberty was adulthood. Get to work. Contribute. You may be dead by 50.

Thus it's weird to see Gilbert (24) acting like a snooty version of Fergus (17). I guess in Victorian times people were growing up more slowly, though not as slowly as now, when you are still considered a "kid" until, say, 30 or 35. Then you might get married. And have kids in your 40s, Lord help you.

A lot of life IS middle school, til the very end. My mother was in an assisted living facility until her death, and the cliques were ridiculous. "This is our table, you can't sit here", "You can't join our group, it's private", etc. The neighbors didn't want Helen in their "group" so looked for ways to censure her. And that's exactly how Gilbert behaved when he injured Lawrence, hoping he wouldn't get caught.

I agree about the melodrama, but I've been thinking about Anne's treatment of romance.

When she describes, through Helen's diary entry, Helen's feeling of being attracted to Huntingdon, I have to say, it reminded me of my own teenage feelings--struggling with an attraction to the "wrong" boy. I don't read many romances, but she was able to put me back there to a state of mind long forgotten. She made me remember it. Vividly.

So I think Anne is showing excellent skill in what she's trying to get across. This also made me think about Anne's age and her love-life. She's coming from tumultuous youth and the ... what is the word I want ... immediacy of inexperience, if that makes any sense.

I think that's one of the attractions to her writing, and to her sisters' writing too, for that matter.

Diane wrote: "A lot of life IS middle school, til the very end. My mother was in an assisted living facility until her death, and the cliques were ridiculous. "This is our table, you can't sit here", "You can't ..."

Oh my gosh. Is this what we have to look forward to? Going back to middle school? :-/

Well, think of it. How far is man's propensity for cliques from man's propensity for tribes? Tribalism came close to bringing this country down, and it's not done trying.

And Kathleen, did you really once angle for some bad boy you wanted to reform (like Helen thinks she can reform HUNTingdon)? You know, a James Dean type, or Marlon Brando in his thin days?

Another universal trope, both in literature and life (which literature reflects, if it's working).

Ken wrote: "And Kathleen, did you really once angle for some bad boy you wanted to reform (like Helen thinks she can reform HUNTingdon)? You know, a James Dean type, or Marlon Brando in his thin days?"

You got me, Ken. Another trope: bad boy with a big heart. Always been a pushover for those.

Surely Anne Brontë is satirizing the superficialities of Victorian society! The melodrama is laughable if you don’t have to live it, which Anne did. Her characterization of Gilbert illustrates to me just how unsuccessful his mother’s view of raising sons is! He’s petty and moody and as some have pointed out—childishly immature. I’m hoping Helen’s protection of her son fares better, but we mostly agree that a mother’s desire to keep a child away from temptation rarely works.

I am filled with misgivings about Helen’s infatuation with Arthur. I agree with Kathleen that Brontë illustrates realistically the way many young women fall for wayward men.

I am interested enough to keep reading and hope Helen succeeds with her son, although I do tire of all the small talk!!

Love this passage as I feel this way often. I have always avoided parties!

“Is it that they think it a duty to be continually talking,' pursued she: 'and so never pause to think, but fill up with aimless trifles and vain repetitions when subjects of real interest fail to present themselves? - or do they really take a pleasure in such discourse?'

'Very likely they do,' said I; 'their shallow minds can hold no great ideas, and their light heads are carried away by trivialities that would not move a better-furnished skull; - and their only alternative to such discourse is to plunge over head and ears into the slough of scandal - which is their chief delight.”

This raises my esteem for Gilbert a little.

Diane wrote: "Re the letter format: Was the letter that begins the book an attempt by the author to dupe readers into thinking she was a male author?..."

Good point!

Kathleen wrote: "she was able to put me back there to a state of mind long forgotten. She made me remember it. Vividly.

So I think Anne is showing excellent skill in what she's trying to get across ..."

Yes, it's very well done. I'm not sure there is any melodrama here - unlike the excesses of Emily Brontë :(

On the other hand there is a nod to sensational fiction (or "horrid novels", as one of Jane Austen's characters describes them in Northanger Abbey - which in its turn was heavily satirical). As Sandra said, there is a satirical element - but what she describes is real enough, as Anne Brontë said in her introduction.

I ask myself, why is Helen so vehement and passionately protective of her son? She is a down to earth woman, with strong independent veiws of her own. Wouldn't she therefore want to make him independent too? This attitude is oddly at variance with her behaviour. There is more here than meets the eye.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Kathleen wrote: "she was able to put me back there to a state of mind long forgotten. She made me remember it. Vividly.

So I think Anne is showing excellent skill in what she's trying to get acros..."

I had the same feeling regarding the over-protection of her son.
The average parent want their children to be independent; I find it extraordinarily strange as to why Helen is as overprotective as she is, when she knows better.. So..in taking an educated guess coupled with my little knowledge of the 19th century, it of course has to do with her past, as most actions do.
As a new member, I am aware writing spoilers; but more so, I will bet a dollar that my guess is probably wrong, which I will admit to :)

Diane wrote: "Re the letter format: Was the letter that begins the book an attempt by the author to dupe readers into thinking she was a male author? ..."

Of course! There are more words written about this than Anne ever wrote. The Brontës wrote under male pseudonyms to get published and to be taken seriously. Still a good idea today. Although roughly 50% of books published are written by women, less than 30% of reviews are for female writers. Even in modern society, author Catherine Nichols, a more recent example, conducted an experiment where using a male name brought in 17 manuscript requests versus the two requests she received using her own name. From https://themedium.ca/arts/women-write...

This is my second deep read of this novel, and it is a very different read. What do you call references and hints to things that occurred in the past? Can't call them foreshadowing. But this first section is full of them. What Gilbert, and many of the other characters need to remember, is that strangers have a past, and we need to know that before we judge them. Otherwise we make fools of ourselves, and worse, we hurt others. The characters in Gilbert's story take a few little bits of gossip, and devastate a single mother's reputation and refuge.

The melodrama is Gilbert's, not the novel's. Once the narrative is taken up by Helen, we have innocence instead of Gothic mystery.
Mr. Huntingdon's courtship is terrifying--he literally physically assaults her time after time. He is always grabbing her while she tries to pull away. He grabs at her drawings, and continues to examine them when she begs for him to return them. She is afraid of him, but infatuated. He is 10 years older (18 to 28). He is grooming her.

Illustration by VALENTINA CATTO for the Folio edition.

Hi all,
About the over-protectiveness accusation, I am thinking about the fact that Arthur is still so young. He’s a very little boy, only about five years old! Of course his mother isn’t going to give him much independence at that age. Yes, growing up in the ‘50s and ‘60s we had much more freedom to wander suburbia on foot and on our bikes than kids today do, or even than my son’s generation did (he just turned 40), but not until we were ten or twelve, at least in my neighborhood. I think Helen is being a good mom to keep close tabs on little Arthur.

Yes, significant sex role stereotyping both in the book and all those many years later, in my childhood. We’ve come a long way baby with bucking those constraints in recent years. Now we have kids and adults claiming gender neutral identities and transitioning.

As for the adults in the tale, much of their interaction in the story is eliciting eye rolling for me. Helen is the most interesting, of course; I love her independent spirit and the fact that she’s a productive artist. And it's worth remembering that most of the first hunk of the book is in Gilbert's voice.

Even so, Gilbert is despicable in so many ways. Especially am appalled by the way he treated Mr Lawrence and his enjoying tormenting Helen so much, plus the cavalier way he treats Eliza. Helen shows anguish; he makes it worse by feigning indifference and then saying he wants to crush her like a cat playing with its prey. Despite this, he thinks he loves her still? Whoa.

All that said, it’s pretty clear to me that both Gilbert and Helen are making lots of imaginative assumptions about each other that aren’t very well supported, creating “sturm ‘n drang” in their apparently budding relationship.

It’s not quite clear to me yet why Helen would give Gilbert so much of her journal that is so very revealing. I guess we’ll find out in the next section, but geez, it doesn’t show her in a very flattering light. In those written pages, she’s a teenage girl just beginning to think about what she wants from marriage and what sort of partner would be suitable, worthy.

So I get it that Anne Brontë is using these devices to comment on relationships between men & women and between the generations then, sex role stereotypes, and conventional ideas about marriage, child rearing, family life, respectability, good character, virtue, and more. What makes for a good life, even.

I have been taking notes as I go, just to keep it straight in my mind who is who and how some of the details are unfolding. Am enjoying it.

As a retired minister, I was astonished to read that the vicar never preached a sermon without first swallowing a raw egg. What the heck is *that* for, do you suppose?

An aside, it’s interesting to me that both this book and another novel I’m reading right now — Wendell Berry’s Hannah Coulter, for another book group — lift up Walter Scott novels, though Berry’s is more than a century later. A message from the cosmos, I’m thinking, since I’ve never read anything by Scott and maybe should? Anyone know his work? What’s a good one to start with? Are his novels accessible or difficult reads?

p.s. I think the opposite of foreshadowing is flashback.

Ginny wrote: "This is my second deep read of this novel, and it is a very different read. What do you call references and hints to things that occurred in the past? Can't call them foreshadowing. But this first ..."

Don’t most Svengali’s choose their victims carefully? Mr. Huntington was sleaze ball.

Yvonne wrote: "Hi all,
About the over-protectiveness accusation, I am thinking about the fact that Arthur is still so young. He’s a very little boy, only about five years old! Of course his mother isn’t going to ..."

We will learn more about Huntington and Lowborough in the coming chapters.

I was surprised Helen felt comfortable enough to trust Gilbert with her diary. She is a woman in love.

Yvonne, I think Walter Scott's legacy has lost some steam, much like, say, Longfellow, who used to be on every American middle-class shelf back in the first half of the 20th century.

Also, I noted the egg, too. My great-grandfather, still living in my first ten years, used to finish each day with a beer. Not just any beer, though. He cracked a raw egg and dropped it in the brewski, then downed it in a gulp.

Lived to his 90s (of course). Those of us who exercise and watch what we eat will probably be gone by our 70s (I can say this because I'm a young 64). I've said it once and I'll say it again: Ours is a God of Irony.

Ginny and Carol,

Guilty as charged, I, too, am finding the extended aside that is Helen's diary a plow. I tend to do that as a reader, though. Grow impatient to get back to the main storyline. The fact that Brontë chose to divide her sections mid-aside doesn't help.

One thing that bothered me a bit was the writing style and the way the characters spoke so much alike. Maybe this is not a problem of the author but of her times, however.

It's a bit disconcerting, though, when the narrative and the dialogue sounds the same. Ditto the characters. With the slight exception of Fergus, who is painfully designed to be young (and in some ways refreshing), the rhythms and word choices and sentence constructions are all look-alikes. If you did not know the plot line and each character's prejudices and quirks, just looking at cut-outs of dialogue, you'd be hard-pressed to distinguish them.

Modern writers take cares to make differences in cadence and vocabularies part of the characterization. I didn't get that while reading this. Just a roll of Victorian wallpaper walling in anything in its path.

Ken wrote: "Yvonne, I think Walter Scott's legacy has lost some steam, much like, say, Longfellow ,.."

Yes, I agree he's not so popular today, though still has his fans! He wrote historical adventure stories, but now seems so prolix; he really did write for the money after he became bankrupt - and to pay off his gambling debts.

Yvonne - try Ivanhoe :)

Ken wrote: "Maybe this is not a problem of the author but of her times, however.

It's a bit disconcerting, though, when the narrative and the dialogue sounds the same...."

I think your first sentence here explains the next! It seems fine to me ... but perhaps I'm the only English person here, and I suspect it's partly the English culture too, as I personally find some Americanisms hard to fathom. I think too this is why some are objecting to the "melodrama", and using the word in a perjorative sense.

Using melodrama is a technique which is pretty standard for moment of high emotion in Victorian literature, but is a no-no in our 21st century cynical times. So when I'm reading 19th century works, I'm far more accepting of it. It feels right, unless it's really over the top. (I recognise each individual must have a different threshold here, but my standard reading is Charles Dickens :))

Given that we are only a quarter through the novel, and much may yet be revealed to explain things, it seems just fine. Ginny commented: "The melodrama is Gilbert's, not the novel's" - and there is much truth in this too. One of Anne Brontë's strengths here, I think, is in portraying the characters through their behaviour, rather than a description, and Gilbert is a young puppy, despite his chronological age. We've seen part of his "journey" already! Helen is mysterious as yet, but far wiser - and, unusally for these times, earns her own living.

The rest of the small "cast" have all had the sort of life which enables them to stroll through life without a care, and spend their time in gossipy amusement. Some use this for a purpose, and it's interesting to compare these.

Back to the writing style though, and in fact I'm relieved to find this a fast read, as when I realised I was reading two novels published in the same year at the same time, my heart sank! I admire people who can have several on the go, but I need to be able to differentiate - so usually only concentrate on one Victorian novel at a time, plus maybe others.

The upshot of this is that I'm afraid I disagree, and am finding the voices quite distinct and separate - though often stilted in manner of course, as befits a Victorian. The author's voice comes out too, though often through the mouthpiece of Helen herself, I'll grant you.

The egg question ... I just assumed it is for lubrication and energy? Not at all connected with a "curate's egg" however, which means something entirely different ;)

We also have to remember that this was a closed society in the sense that the only travel was to a nearby market town, and not even much of that for the women. So of course they all tended to sound and talk alike. A stranger in their midst was an excitement. I can accept the melodrama perceived by me as a product of the times. I get really upset with people who read books of the past and insist that the morals and opinions of the characters are contemptible just because they didn't realize that 200 years later things would change. All books should be read in the spirit of the time it was written. This was a pretty brave book for Anne to have written in 1847.

Diane wrote: "This was a pretty brave book for Anne to have written in 1847..."

I completelely concur - and agree with your thoughts here.

Diane wrote: "We also have to remember that this was a closed society in the sense that the only travel was to a nearby market town, and not even much of that for the women. So of course they all tended to sound..."

Agreed. The classic example being Twain's Huckleberry Finn when it is attacked as being racist.

But what I'm wondering is this: Did the upper class really talk like this in Victorian times? I mean real people in everyday life as opposed to people built by well-read and educated and talented writers like the Brontë girls.

Here, for example, is Gilbert, a 24-year-old landowner, talking to Helen on p. 97 of my text:

"How? You could not have given me less encouragement, or treated me with greater severity than you did! And if you think you have wronged me by giving me your friendship, and occasionally admitting me to the enjoyment of your company and conversation, when all hopes of closer intimacy were vain -- as indeed you always gave me to understand -- if you think you have wronged me by this, you are mistaken; for such favours in themselves alone, are not only delightful to my heart, but purifying, exalting, ennobling to my soul: and I would rather have your friendship than the love of any other woman in the world!

Granted, I don't know how people talked in everyday situations, but some of the diction here clangs off the ear. Did Victorian gentlemen insert asides (here within dashes) mid-sentence? Use a series of adjectives like "purifying, exalting, ennobling"? Talk about their souls?

I'm guessing (perhaps incorrectly) that what I'm reading is more a product of the literary times Brontë lived in and reflected than it is of the actual people's everyday speech.

Ken wrote: "Ginny and Carol,

Guilty as charged, I, too, am finding the extended aside that is Helen's diary a plow. I tend to do that as a reader, though. Grow impatient to get back to the main storyline. The..."

Ken- the problem for me with the narrative and the dialogue being so similar is- for example, by the end of the day if I am not giving my full 100% concentration, I sometimes become confused between the characters, going back for a re-read even though I know their personalities. Not saying I don't do that with plenty of other books, but it just makes it a tad harder to differentiate.
Does this ever happen to you?

Ken wrote: "Did the upper class really talk like this in Victorian times? I mean real people in everyday life ..."

I assume this is an open question to the group, yes, not just to Diane? (I don't want to break protocol!)

And the answer I believe is yes, with one slight reservation that of course people "in real life" do not always talk in complete sentences, and this is misrepresented just as much in contemporary novels as it is in earlier ones. Watching any dialogue in films too, is unrealistic in that it is startlingly without the "ums" and "ers" or pauses we all do. Oh to be so articulate that the words just spout out of my mouth without hesitation!

Otherwise, yes, that speech is pretty accurate for how the English landed gentry would talk at that time. (I put that in bold, as there are many subgroups within the "upper class": aristocracy, minor aristocracy, landed gentry, gentry, (often impoverished) before we get to professional and the perceived horrors of "trade" - who were often more wealthy than those of "good blood".)

"Use a series of adjectives like "purifying, exalting, ennobling"? Talk about their souls?" Yes, they were educated and literary. They were not peasants, and reverse snobbery was way in the future. They did not have to hide their intellectual abilities, and were more likely to be proud of their manners. Public schools (what you would call "private schools" in the USA) taught oratory, elocution, debating and the like, and such skills would be highly sought after.

When Gilbert spoke to Helen at that point, he would want to represent himself in the best light possible - especially since he was questioning her conduct and propriety! It would actually have been unbelievable to readers if if he hadn't spoken with care, and sounded correct.

The punctuation and dashes were surely Anne Brontë's attempt to reproduce the slight hesitation in speech I was referring to - as are all our punctuation marks. Perhaps she should have made an attempt at a Yorkshire accent? I never find those very convincing, but some writers do this all the time!

I tend to agree with Jean's explanation. Even though I am not English and have no way of knowing how the landed gentry would have spoken then, I think that, as a rule, we have all lost a lot of the formal writing and speaking skills that people of the past had, because we've not had the practice or the need to use them in daily life. I remember years ago watching the Ken Burns Civil War series. They read a lot of the letters from privates and common soldiers, and I was amazed at the formality and erudition of some of these men. I think it's the same here. Anne Bronte would have been writing what she knew and heard on a daily basis.

Stacey wrote: "Ken wrote: "Ginny and Carol,

Guilty as charged, I, too, am finding the extended aside that is Helen's diary a plow. I tend to do that as a reader, though. Grow impatient to get back to the main st..."

To answer your question, Stacey, yes, of course! I often get lost and confused in the big bopper novels with many characters or language much different from what I'm used to.

It took dogged determination to get into 19th Russian novels, for instance, especially with the patronymics and nicknames adding to the confusion!

Jean, there is no protocol. Even though I addressed Diane, anything seen on thread is fair game for anyone to comment on. Thank you for your expertise on not only the home country but Victorian Lit. in general. It's been a while since I visited the good old Land of Victoria, book-wise.

And Diane, your #47 seems entirely fair and well-said. It's fascinating how one's time in history affects speech. Also how very different literary styles unfold in different countries during similar time frames. (Speaking of Russian, I think of Tolstoy, who writes such factual, sensory-based stuff compared to his contemporaries in, say, Victorian England.)

Ken, you are very gracious, thank you. I will be sure to look to you for help with Russian literature, where I am apt to flouder about and get depressed. I enjoyed War and Peace, but I suspect that may have been because I watched a 15 hour dramatisation alongside!