Corruption vs Morality
How Arthur and Gilbert in Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall Expose the Conflicting Nature of Man
Julia Mehlin
Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is an epistolary novel that depicts the unfortunate marriage of a young woman named Helen Graham as she endures abuse, neglect, and infidelity from her husband, Arthur Huntingdon. Published in 1848, the novel skillfully challenges a multitude of traditional Victorian values and gender stereotypes by delving into the lives of two exceedingly different men who hold different positions in English society. In a lengthy letter to his friend and brother-in-law, Gilbert Markham—the novel’s male protagonist— reveals the intricate story of how he and Helen Graham ultimately came to be husband and wife. Markham includes Helen’s diary within his letter to give his recipient a full account of their tumultuous love story, and in doing so, Arthur Huntingdon’s horrific actions are revealed. Huntingdon’s cruel treatment of Helen throughout their excruciating six-year marriage eventually causes Helen to take her young child and escape from her husband’s home and thus, his wicked influence. After taking refuge at Wildfell Hall, Helen and her son kindle a gentle friendship with Markham, which allows the disillusioned woman to put her faith and trust in another man despite her painful past. Both Gilbert and Arthur play a salient role in the development of Helen’s life, although one man is the cause of her bitter anguish and the other provides hope and relief. The two men are mirrors of mankind at large, elucidating the unwavering conflict between good and evil and the decision that every man must make between pursuing vice or upholding virtue. Although both Arthur and Gilbert act boldly to preserve and proclaim their masculinity, the two characters serve as distinct foils of one another, revealing how a man’s upbringing, status, and environment ultimately shapes who he is and how he impacts the other people in his life, as well as the world around him.
Literature Review
Many scholars support the argument that both Arthur and Gilbert express their masculinity in an intense manner due to the societal environments in which they have been raised. Because most of the sources that I found are from the twenty-first century, scholars’ views on masculinity are more critical, and therefore, the authors are unanimously unsupportive of what Victorians accepted as stereotypical “masculine” behavior, which is mainly depicted in Arthur’s character. These sources are deeply interested in understanding the complex psychology of Huntingdon and Markham, as they maintain the understanding that the two men are foils of one another. However, they also want to expose how the masculine tendencies of these men overlap. Some authors support the idea that Markham’s ability to feel guilt and reflect on his wrongdoings is a sign of personal growth and integrity, yet some hold the view that Markham—being a product of his time—is just as violent and twisted as Huntingdon at times, which adds an extra layer of skepticism to the idea that his nature is truly moral by the end of the novel. In addition to close readings of Markham’s actions, a handful of my sources focus mainly on the wickedness of Arthur Huntingdon, especially regarding his abusive and manipulative marriage with Helen. Much attention is given to Huntingdon’s alcohol abuse and adultery, which causes a significant amount of conflict and distress in Helen’s story. Ultimately, the authors are more sympathetic to Markham, but all their true sympathies are directed toward Helen, who suffers the most as a result of careless male actions.
Priti Joshi and N.M. Jacobs view Gilbert as a man with a violent temper who attempts to convey his manliness through the constant pursuit of a woman. Joshi acknowledges how Gilbert is “unlike Huntingdon in crucial ways—he does not drink, gamble, or abandon his wife,” and yet, “he is, nevertheless, a disturbing hero and lover for our much-abused heroine” (914). Markham is not a slave to vice like Huntingdon, but he is also far from being devoid of flaws, which is possibly why Joshi refers to him as a “disturbing hero.” Similar to Joshi’s statement, Jacobs also views Markham through a critical lens, claiming that as a young man, he is “childish, vain, competitive with other men even to the point of violence, and unable to control or manage his emotions; and he tends to evaluate women almost entirely according to their willingness to flatter and conciliate him” (209). These authors seem to be more focused on the younger Gilbert, who is depicted in the letter written by an older, more mature version of himself. Despite his violent outbursts and unflattering interactions with women toward the beginning of the novel, Gilbert undergoes a period of personal growth and development throughout the course of his letter. This development allows Markham to cease being “a caricature of maleness” (Jacobs 208) and allows him to become a kind and well-rounded adult by the time he takes Helen as his wife. Joshi and Jacobs are not fully convinced that Gilbert is the hero of this story due to his overly masculine tendencies, but they do agree that he remains far nobler than the despicable Arthur Huntingdon (Joshi 915), which is why he undeniably makes a better husband for Helen.
In contrast to Joshi and Jacobs, Aysegul Kuglin, Melinda Maunsell, and Sarah Hallenbeck view Gilbert as a young man who is growing and changing in a positive manner over the course of the novel. Kuglin does not see Gilbert as a “disturbing hero” (Joshi 914) but rather an upstanding man who is “determined to be selfless” (59) despite moments when his intense, manly impulses overtake him. Instead of focusing on Markham’s faults and character flaws, Kuglin and Hallenbeck are more concerned with the malevolent Arthur Huntingdon, who serves as the manipulative villain in Helen’s narrative. Maunsell’s article pays close attention to the ways in which Brontë uses the character’s physical features as a way to convey power imbalances between the sexes. For example, Maunsell highlights how “Arthur uses his hands to torture and restrain Helen whenever she opposes him” (47). For Arthur, a lot of his power is contained in his hands, and he uses this element of physical force to repress Helen in various ways. In addition to his deliberate use of violence, Arthur is a belligerent “narcissist…[who] drinks because he simply sees no good reason not to” (Kuglin 48). Arthur’s careless behavior and violent outbursts against Helen are significantly fueled by his addiction to alcohol, which ultimately leads to his untimely death. The reckless and indulgent way of life that Arthur leads is the antithesis of the type of man that Gilbert is or wants to be, marking an instance where the two characters are overtly exposed as foils. According to Hallenbeck, Gilbert portrays “a gentlemanliness that replaces Arthur’s seductive and forceful charm with modest artistic sensibility, and Arthur’s rash need for personal adoration with respect and self-discipline” (“How to be a Gentleman”).
Aside from scholars delving into Arthur and Gilbert’s interesting character traits, some writers have devoted their research to understanding the historical background that coincides with this novel. Because The Tenant was written during the Victorian era, and it portrays men and women within that society, many of the characters are based on certain categories of people who were prevalent in Britain at the time. For example, Arthur Huntingdon is a wealthy businessman who is steeped in the scandalous attractions found in London high society. He is a gambler, a drunk, an adulterer, and he surrounds himself with an equally immoral group of “gentlemen” who use their wealth to indulge in their most sinful vices. Marrianne Thormälen comments on this behavior by pointing out how “[i]n the early and mid-nineteenth century, writers of treatises on alcohol and alcohol abuse agreed that drinking affected the imbiber's mind and temper, destroying moral principles and intellectual faculties by degrees” (837); this is a historical observation that directly relates to Arthur’s ill behavior due to his incessant state of intoxication. Similarly, John Tosh comments on the fact that during the Victorian era, “[Britain] was a society characterized by increasingly sharp category distinctions of gender and sexuality” (330), an idea that permeates throughout this novel. The analyses from Thormälen and Tosh are helpful in understanding the fundamentals of characters such as Arthur and Gilbert because they provide necessary historical context, allowing one to understand why the characters act in the ways that they do based on the roles they undertake in society.
By observing Arthur and Gilbert in the context of their masculinity, the true motivations of both characters can be brought to light. During the nineteenth century in Britain, men occupied dominant positions within their familial relationships as well as in the social and economic sphere. While middle and upper-class women were expected to portray the perfect image of domesticity, taking on the demanding roles of mother and housewife, men were solely expected to maintain financial stability for their families. As Helen’s husband, Arthur is abrasive, deceitful, and spiteful, yet Markham as a prospective husband to Helen remains loyal, trustworthy and kind. The scholars appear to have their minds made up about the immoral and loathsome nature of Arthur, thereby reinforcing the idea that he has no “good” or redeemable qualities, but their opinions drastically differ on the extent of Gilbert’s morality. However, Gilbert’s character is not as complex as the critics make him out to be; he is simply a product of his time. What makes Gilbert so interesting, though, is the conflicting empathy and anger that he displays throughout his own letter. Gilbert engages in a series of deep self-reflections as he recounts his love story, proving how he is not only developing and maturing as a human being but also how passionate he feels about being a noble husband to Helen and a positive role model to little Arthur. This reveals the softer side of a middle-class Victorian man. After being abused, degraded, and controlled by Arthur, Helen finds a safe haven in Gilbert, whose kindness and sensitivity outweighs his moments of masculine foolishness.
Analysis: Understanding Masculinity Studies
The use of contemporary masculinity studies helps to reveal the motivations behind Gilbert and Arthur’s distinct character traits. According to Andrea Waling, “masculinity is reflected upon through a consideration of gender and sexual relations, engagement with social institutions, systemic inequalities, power, and men’s subjectivity” (90). This definition can be appropriately applied to characters like Gilbert and Arthur, especially in relation to how they view themselves as dominant sexual beings, as well as the entitlement they feel in their respective domestic and social lives. One particular concept of masculinity that can be attributed to these men is hegemonic masculinity, which is described as “‘a question of how particular groups of men inhabit positions of power and wealth, and how they legitimate and reproduce the social relationships that generate their dominance’” (Reeser 21). [2] Situated in a comfortable position of power and wealth—which he inherited from his father—Arthur’s inflamed ego in addition to his position as a man in high society causes him to feel a sense of dominance over every person and thing in his life, especially Helen. When Helen attempts to weigh in on Arthur’s highly destructive behavior during their marriage, Arthur viciously silences her by asserting his masculinity: “I won’t be dictated by a woman, though she be my wife” (Brontë 235). Arthur’s desire to control the people around him is only intensified by the fact that most Victorian men viewed their wives as property, not as individuals with full autonomy. Because of these dangerous yet widely accepted beliefs about women’s inferiority, Arthur has the capacity to “reduce [Helen] from wife to prisoner in her own home” (Diederich 32).
Furthermore, Arthur’s disrespect and disregard toward his wife’s feelings were not unique behaviors for men to engage in during that time, as most men were accustomed to mistreating women, especially once women became wives. Reeser points out how “[m]en’s dominance over women [is] central to this definition [of hegemonic masculinity]” (21). This desire for dominance over women is also displayed in Gilbert’s character when he attempts to spark a courtship with the local reverend’s daughter, Eliza Millward, prior to his relationship with Helen. While pursuing Eliza for his own entertainment, Gilbert refers to the young woman as “a very engaging little creature” and an “insignificant little thing, who, in addition to her own numerous other disqualifications, had not twenty pounds to call her own” (Brontë 18). By referring to Eliza in these demeaning ways, Gilbert reveals his own sense of superiority over the opposite sex. Both Arthur and Gilbert gain enjoyment from subjugating the women in their lives, a notable element of hegemonic masculinity. Brontë makes it exceedingly clear that “Men are set up as social, rational agents who can effectively instigate change” (Waling 98), but whether they decide to instigate change in a positive or negative manner and how they affect other people in the process is wholly up to them.
Anne Brontë’s Male Influences and Family Life
Arthur’s brutal alcohol addiction ultimately leads to his premature death, a fate that many men have faced and often still face today. Arthur’s battle with alcohol causes him to “los[e] not only his charm, health, and ultimately his life, but also his soul” (Kuglin 52). While creating this section of the novel, “[Anne] would often sit crying at the table, as she realized that in writing about the death of Huntingdon she was really writing about the death of [her brother] Branwell that was surely to come” (Holland 194). During the process of writing this novel, Branwell “was a hopeless addict to both drink and laudanum” (194). This behavior oddly mirrors that of Arthur Huntingdon: “he refused to drink like an honest Christian,” and “he kept a private bottle of laudanum about him, which he was continually soaking at” (Brontë 192). And while no one knows if parts of Arthur’s character were directly inspired by Branwell, one can assume that Anne felt compelled to reflect her abhorrence of alcohol abuse in Helen’s story. Alcoholism was a prevalent issue in Victorian society, as “[t]he early nineteenth century was a time when alcohol abuse became a hotly debated issue. The Temperance Movement spread over Britain” (Thormälen 832). [3] Once Branwell was overtaken by his alcoholism, Anne was greatly worried for her brother, and the effects of this troubling experience are conspicuous throughout the novel.
Branwell’s crippling alcohol addiction may have added to Anne’s disillusionment with the male sex; however, Nick Holland notes how “there were still some enlightened men, and [Annë’s] father provided a shining example” (193). Patrick Brontë was an intelligent and devoutly religious man, and he served as a pastor in the Church of England (Holland 12). Although Anne’s mother, Maria Branwell, died of uterine cancer when Anne was very young, Patrick took it upon himself to raise his daughters and son to be good Christian people (Holland 22). He emphasized the importance of literacy and education for all his children, as “he believed that women could make strong and worthwhile careers for themselves, if given the encouragement and tools to do so” (Holland 25). [4] Patrick’s wise parenting methods proved to be a great success, with all three of his surviving daughters creating and publishing literary masterpieces during a time when the field of literature was predominantly run by men.[5] Although Anne’s inspiration for Gilbert’s character remains unknown, there is a possibility that much of his soft masculinity (such as how he treats and views Helen as an equal in their marriage, his deep admiration for the way she thinks and speaks, and his feelings of instinctive fatherhood toward little Arthur) can be attributed to Anne’s beloved father, perhaps one of the only men in her life who never let her down.
Different Upbringings Make Different Men
One of the most significant contrasts between Arthur and Gilbert lies within their upbringings. The two men were raised in completely opposite ways by their parents, and this is where their values and behaviors stem from. For example, Markham’s letter opens with a brief anecdote on how he became a farmer. He informs Halford (the letter’s recipient) that “My father…was a sort of gentleman farmer in –shire; and I, by his express desire, succeeded him in the same quiet occupation, not very willingly, for ambition urged me to higher aims, and self conceit assured me that, in disregarding its voice, I was burying my talent in the earth, and hiding my light under a bushel” (11). Although Markham initially feels capable of holding a more esteemed profession, he acquiesces to his father’s “express desire” for him to become a farmer because he does not want to disappoint his family by disrupting their traditional way of life, which relies on agriculture. Despite his father’s efforts to make him a farmer, Markham’s mother “had done her utmost to persuade [him] that [he] was capable of great achievements” (11). But the woman of the household was not in a position to tell any man—including her own son—how to live or what to do, hence why Mrs. Markham’s sentiments are lost to her husband’s belief that “ambition [is] the surest road to ruin, and change but another word for destruction” (11).
Ultimately, Markham agrees to follow in the humble path of his father, a duty that he feels proud to fulfill. Despite his loftier aspirations for his career, Markham learns to “let my highest ambition be to walk honestly through the world, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left, and to transmit the paternal acres to my children in, at least, as flourishing a condition as he left them to me” (11). Markham revealing these details at the beginning of his letter essentially provides a map to his character, as his motivations stem from a desire to honor his father’s wishes. His optimism is a distinct quality of his character that is illuminated throughout the novel. He proudly asserts to Halford that “an honest and industrious farmer is one of the most useful members of society; and if I devote my talents to the cultivation of my farm, and the improvement of agriculture in general, I shall thereby benefit, not only my own immediate connections and dependents, but in some degree, mankind at large; – hence I shall not have lived in vain” (11). Because he cannot place his great ambitions into another worthy profession, Markham assures himself that his job is important and impactful not only to his family but to the world around him. He is a man who feels called to do something bigger than himself, for the fear of having “lived in vain.” Markham is aware of the world around him, and he believes he can make a change for good by simply carrying out his duties with honesty and integrity.
On the other hand, Helen’s diary exposes the careless way in which the wealthy Arthur Huntingdon was raised, causing him to become a reckless, entitled, and vile adult. When Helen encounters Arthur for the first time, she develops a superficial attraction, being instantly drawn to his charming wit and handsome appearance; however, she soon comes to realize that those qualities are as far as his goodness goes. While courting Helen, Arthur informs her that “My father…was something of a miser, and in his latter days especially, saw no pleasure in life but to amass riches; and so it is no wonder that his son should make it his chief delight to spend them, which was accordingly the case, until my acquaintance with you, dear Helen” (174). Arthur unabashedly admits that his father was greedy and selfish, with a fervent desire to make money and then squander it; but the most concerning element of this statement is that Arthur had become accustomed to engaging in the same behavior without feeling any guilt for it. Although he assures Helen that she has “taught [him] other views and noble aims” (174), Arthur is also a master of deceit, and Helen uncovers this truth when she is already too far deep into their destructive marriage, as many women often do.
Prior to their marriage, Helen is under the impression that she can change her husband’s offensive ways. She feels confident that she will “make [Arthur] what he would have been if he had not, from the beginning, had a bad, selfish, miserly father…and a foolish mother who indulged him to the top of his bent, deceiving her husband for him, and doing the her utmost to encourage those germs of folly and vice it was her duty to suppress” (177). Helen understands that Arthur’s character flaws are a direct result of his parents’ negligence toward him as a child, and because of this, she feels sorry for him and wants to encourage him to be a better person. Initially believing that “his worst and only vice is thoughtlessness” (175), Helen begins to understand that Arthur’s wicked tendencies are so deeply rooted within him that there is no way to eradicate the sinfulness that was instilled in him from birth. While the diary does not present much more information regarding Arthur’s upbringing, it is apparent that his awful treatment of his wife and the other individuals in his life—along with his excessive substance abuse—is a direct result of the poor example set by his parents. The differences between Gilbert and Arthur’s parental influences are a clear indication of why they are who they are and why they hold such contrasting values on how to carry out their lives.
Violence as a Tool of Asserting Masculinity
Despite their vastly dissimilar upbringings, both Gilbert and Arthur assert their masculinity by using violence, although there are different motivations behind each man’s aggressive actions. In Gilbert’s case, he only becomes violent when he is prompted by irrepressible feelings of jealousy. The most apparent example of this is when Gilbert nearly kills Helen’s brother, Frederick Lawrence, due to his initial misinterpretation of the siblings’ close relationship. While lingering on Helen’s property one evening, Markham sees Frederick put his arm around the young woman, and he immediately takes this as a sign of Helen being deceitful and lying about her current relationship status. After this event completely devastates Markham—who was beginning to believe he could potentially win Helen’s heart—he takes the opportunity to physically assault Frederick while he is peacefully riding home on his horse. Overcome by deep anger and vengefulness, Markham recalls the attack: “I had seized my whip by the small end, and—swift and sudden as a flash of lightning—brought the other down upon [Frederick’s] head. It was not without a feeling of savage satisfaction that I beheld the instant, deadly pallor that overspread his face, and the few red drops that trickled down his forehead, while he reeled a moment in his saddle, and then fell backward to the ground” (116). This is arguably one of the most gruesome scenes in the book, as Gilbert rashly carries out an act of violence against an innocent victim.
However, Markham’s ability to reflect on his aggressive actions and feel guilt for his wrongdoings is something that redeems his (overall) morally sound character. Directly after Gilbert hits Frederick in the head, he begins to worry about the sufferer’s well-being. He anxiously wonders, “Had I killed him? —an icy hand seemed to grasp my heart and check its pulsation, as I bent over him, gazing with breathless intensity upon the ghastly, upturned face. But no; he moved his eyelids and uttered a slight groan. I breathed again—he was only stunned by the fall” (116). Gilbert reveals in his letter that he had no intention of killing Frederick, but rather, he had a jealous impulse that simply could not be ignored, and as a man, that impulse ultimately led him to choose violence. In a similar, but more restrained scenario, Markham finds himself feeling indignant after hearing more rumors being spread about Helen’s complicated situation. Not wanting to hear any more harmful gossip spewed by members of his community, Gilbert feels ready to “clap my hat upon my head and burst away, in wrathful indignation” (113), but he eventually decides against it, as a state of recollection hits him “just in time to save my dignity… [so] I merely walked to the window…vengeably biting my lips, and sternly repressing the passionate heavings of my chest” (113). Despite his fiery temper, Gilbert possesses the ability to think rationally, and he often stops himself from acting on impulse because he does not want to look like a vicious fool or a bad person.
Whereas Gilbert’s violence in the novel stems from his deep love for Helen and his desire to be with her and defend her honor, Arthur uses violence to suppress Helen, asserting his male dominance over her by way of brutal force. During one of her early encounters with Arthur, Helen accidentally leaves out a sketched portrait of him that she had “forgotten to rub out,” and upon seeing this, Arthur grabs the artwork against Helen’s attempt to “snatch it from his hand” (155). However, the instance becomes troublesome when Arthur refuses to give the drawing back, even though he knows it is causing great distress to Helen. In a childish and defiant manner, Arthur “placed [the sketch] against his waistcoat, and buttoned his coat upon it with a delighted chuckle” (155). This scene is only one of many examples of how Arthur finds joy in upsetting Helen and manipulating her by using his strength to physically defy her wishes.
Another significant scene in which Helen is violated by Arthur early on in their relationship is when he is begging her to accept his marriage proposal. In true manipulative fashion, Arthur tells Helen, “I cannot live without you, and if you answer, No, to this last question, you will drive me mad—Will you bestow yourself upon me? —you will!’ he cried, nearly squeezing me to death in his arms” (168). By squeezing Helen “to death in his arms” in an effort to pressure her into saying yes to his proposal, Arthur is literally and figuratively crushing her. Arthur initially uses subtle violence as a tactic to get Helen to acquiesce to all his demands and wishes, but as their married life progresses, his actions toward Helen become even more dangerous and savage-like.
Treatment of Animals, Children, and Women
An additional distinction between Markham and Arthur can be observed in the way they treat animals, which in turn reflects how the two characters treat other human beings. Gilbert makes it clear to Halford throughout his letter Gilbert makes it clear to Halford throughout his letter that his faithful dog named Sancho— “a beautiful black setter” (24)—is his most prized possession and a companion that he loves very deeply and treats kindly. In contrast, Arthur sees animals as beings to either kill or mistreat. [6] Toward the beginning of her diary, Helen recalls a disturbing scene in which Arthur returns from a shooting trip “all spattered and splashed… and stained with the blood of his prey” (161). This jarring description conveys how Arthur’s love for hunting exposes his dark desire to harm other living things. Another particularly distressing scene documented in Helen’s diary when Arthur’s “favorite cocker, Dash…took the liberty of jumping upon him and beg[an] to lick his face. [But] he struck it off with a smart blow; and the poor dog squeaked, and ran cowering” (212). As if this terrible abuse were not enough for Arthur, he then “snatched up a heavy book and hurled it at [Dash’s] head. The poor dog set up a piteous outcry and ran to the door” (212). Arthur’s wicked abuse toward his dog shocks and horrifies Helen, as she begins to understand that her husband is completely devoid of empathy or care for his fellow creatures, including her and (eventually) their infant son.
Similar to the distinct way in which they both treat animals, Arthur and Gilbert take different approaches to how they interact with Helen’s child, who is unfortunately given the name of his father. When little Arthur is first born, Helen claims that her husband is “pleased with the acquisition, and hopes it will become a fine boy and a worthy heir” (240). Based on this disheartening description, it is apparent that Arthur only views his newborn son as a prospect for becoming a “worthy heir.” He is positively indifferent to the birth of his newborn child, and he is only concerned with the idea of continuing his lineage, once again revealing his disturbing egotism. Helen is appalled by Arthur’s assertion that he cannot “waste [his] thoughts and feelings on a little worthless idiot like that” (241), and the vicious name-calling only gets worse as Arthur becomes more frustrated by the birth of his son, which inevitably takes some of Helen’s attention from him. But as little Arthur begins to grow, his father starts to understand that his reckless actions can influence Helen’s “guileless, unpolluted lamb” (240), and that excites him greatly. Eventually, little Arthur begins to spend time in his father’s company “in spite of his cross mamma, and learnt to tipple wine like papa…and to have his own way like a man, and sent mamma to the devil when she tried to prevent him” (350). This change in her young son unnerves Helen to an extreme degree, which is why she claims that she must “deliver [her] son from that contaminating influence” (323). Seeing no hope for her son’s future while living in the presence of a corrupt man like Arthur, Helen takes little Arthur and bravely escapes to Wildfell Hall.
In the early stages of living at Wildfell Hall, Helen and little Arthur meet Gilbert Markham, whose kindness makes him a fast friend to the pair. Interestingly, Markham saves little Arthur from danger upon their first meeting, as Arthur’s pants are caught by a “crabbed old cherry tree” (24), and he is suspended in the air by a branch. Upon seeing Arthur in this frightening state, Markham recalls how he instantaneously “dropped [his] gun on the grass, and caught the little fellow in [his] arms” (24). Markham’s ability to quickly spring into action by catching little Arthur, thereby saving him from a dangerous fall, depicts his heroic desire to be a force of good in society. The manner in which little Arthur is rescued is also significant, as he is being caught and saved by Markham both in a physical and metaphorical sense. From this moment forward, Markham becomes the most prominent male figure in little Arthur’s life. This new, positive influence helps Helen to “eradicate the weeds that had been fostered in his infant mind, and sow again the good seed they had rendered unproductive” (369). Once Helen and Gilbert are married, Gilbert is delighted to share that Arthur is “my own Helen’s son, and therefore mine” (486). The beautiful and gentle friendship fostered between Markham and little Arthur throughout the novel is a prime example of how Markham’s goodness influences little Arthur, consequently saving the young man’s future from ruin.
One of the most recognizable differences between Gilbert and Arthur is the way they view women, and especially what is to be expected of a wife. For example, Gilbert challenges his mother on her ideas of women’s household duties, as she believes that women “‘have only two things to consider, first, what’s proper to be done, and secondly, what’s most agreeable to the gentlemen of the house—anything will do for the ladies’” (57); however, Gilbert disagrees with this traditional view: “I might sink into the grossest condition of self indulgence and carelessness about the wants of others, from the mere habit of being constantly cared for myself, and having all my wants anticipated or immediately supplied” (58). This is an interesting comment for Markham to make, as it foreshadows the extremely “self-indulgent” and “careless” behavior that is about to be displayed by Arthur Huntingdon. In addition to Gilbert’s thoughtful assertion above, he also informs his mother that “when I marry, I shall expect to find more pleasure in making my wife happy and comfortable, than in being made so by her: I would rather give than receive” (58). This notion both shocks and horrifies Mrs. Markham, who has only ever known a woman’s duty to be focused on keeping her husband satisfied and comfortable. A woman’s comfort and happiness were not often emphasized in Victorian marriages, especially in the middle and upper classes, which is why Gilbert’s desire to deviate from this sexist notion in his own future marriage proves significant.
Unlike Gilbert, Arthur views marriage with a similar lens to Mrs. Markham, except his views are far more sadistic and repressive. After having been married to Arthur for over two years, Helen understands that “his idea of a wife is a thing to love one devotedly and to stay at home—to wait upon her husband, and amuse him and minister to his comfort in every possible way, while he chooses to stay with her; and, when he is absent, to attend to his interests, domestic or otherwise, and patiently wait his return; no matter how he may be occupied in the meantime” (244). To Arthur, a wife is the furthest thing from equal to her husband, and because he views women as inferior to their male counterparts in every way, he thinks they are only supposed to be concerned with (and consumed by) the needs and desires of their husbands; essentially, a woman’s life and feelings should always come second to her husband’s. And although Arthur often refers to Helen as his “household deity” (268), he soon begins to loathe her when she finally starts to resist his harsh and degrading treatment. Arthur attempts to beat Helen down until she is a shell of herself, but this evidently does not work. Helen’s strength to defy her husband allows her to preserve her dignity and save her child from corruption, and this is something that Gilbert admires deeply about her. Helen ultimately decides to give Gilbert her hand in marriage and her heart because she knows that he will allow her to be who she truly is; he will see her as an equal and love her for all she thinks and feels.
Views on Religion and Struggles with Alcoholism
One of the most obvious qualities that Helen comes to loathe in Arthur is his vehement rejection of religion. Helen’s unwavering faith in Christianity allows her to find comfort and muster strength during the darkest and most abusive parts of her marriage, and this massive consolation to Helen’s spirit angers Arthur to an extreme degree. As Helen presents the details of her unfortunate relationship with Arthur, it becomes evident that “she sees her marriage as a god-ordained mission: not merely to civilize an undisciplined boy but to rescue an immortal soul” (Jacobs 211). Although Helen willingly accepts the burden of “saving” Arthur’s soul, she eventually understands that he will never be converted to Christianity because he enjoys indulging in sin too much. Because religion serves as a moral and spiritual compass for individuals like Helen, Arthur attempts to avoid the Christian faith in every aspect of his life.
During a scene which depicts Arthur’s courtship of Helen, the couple accompany Helen’s pious aunt to a church service, and instead of listening to the sermon and respecting the institution, Arthur spends his time “making a caricature of the preacher, giving to the respectable, pious, elderly gentleman, the air and aspect of a most absurd old hypocrite” (179). These insensitive actions are exacerbated by Arthur’s cunning ability to engage in a seemingly thoughtful conversation with Helen’s aunt after the service. Helen points out how “upon his return, he talked to my aunt about the sermon with a degree of modest, serious discrimination that tempted me to believe he had really attended and profited by the discourse” (179). Arthur’s deceitful charm is on full display within this scene, but young Helen appears too ignorant to comprehend his wicked ways just yet. As Thormälen states, “Vanity induced the inexperienced Helen to marry a man in the belief that she could change and save him, and she pays dearly for her error” (840).
Not only does Arthur dismiss Helen’s ardent attempts to convert him to Christianity, which would encourage a sense of accountability and morality in him, but he also feels as though his life is above religious law. Arthur informs Helen that she is “too religious” due to his belief that “a woman’s religion ought not to lessen her devotion to her earthly lord” (204). This is an interesting assertion for Arthur to make, as it exposes his vain belief that he is above God and religion, making him an “earthly lord” to himself. While Helen relies on her faith to guide her through life and keep her grounded, Arthur views religion through the eyes of a hypocrite who is too deeply invested in earthly pleasures to concern himself with the divine. However, Arthur only begins to fear for the protection of his soul when he is on his deathbed from drinking excessively. Despite Helen escaping the wrath of her drunkard husband at Grassdale Manor, she is called to nurse Arthur and return to his home after he has fallen off his horse and taken ill. And, in true Christian fashion, Helen returns to the place that holds the memories of all her anguish and torment in a final effort to save the life and soul of Arthur. Although Helen feels pained to be nursing her abuser, she ultimately understands that her wifely duties must still be fulfilled. Holland observes how “[a]t first, Huntingdon responds to Helen’s nursing and seems to get better morally and physically, but he soon begins to drink to excess again, and this brings on his death, which is accompanied by a terrible physical and spiritual torment” (190).
Now under the full realization that his final days of life are numbered, Arthur begs Helen to help him repent so that his soul may not be damned to burn in hell for eternity. Signs of deep, raw fear are displayed from Arthur on his deathbed, and he anxiously asserts to Helen that “[she] must save [him]” (441). When he poses the question, “[i]f there really be life beyond the tomb, and judgement after death, how can I face it?” (445), Helen’s only advice to him rests in her belief that his sole hope for salvation depends on sincere repentance. However, a severe narcissist like Arthur remains incapable of feeling remorse, despite his awareness of being a sinful human being with a corrupt spirit. Arthur ultimately dies having never engaged in any form of repentance; he spent his final days in a selfish state of terror and agony, awaiting his fate in unknown territory.
Arthur’s death liberates Helen in various ways, but the most notable result of this change is the fact that Helen now has the freedom to marry a different, more virtuous and like-minded man. In contrast to Helen’s belief that her first husband would be sent to hell after death, she tenderly informs Gilbert that their souls “shall meet in heaven” (Brontë 404). Unlike Arthur, whose futile attempts at being religious are self-interested and superficial, Gilbert establishes himself to be a truly devout Christian, whose motivations align with the teachings of Christ. There seems to be no coincidence that Markham and Helen encounter one another for the first time in church. In this early scene, Gilbert begins to focus on Helen’s physical features: “there was a slight hollowness about the cheeks and eyes, and the lips, though finely formed, were a little too thin, a little too firmly compressed…” (17). While silently sizing up her appearance, Helen shoots Gilbert a glance of “quiet scorn, that was inexpressibly provoking,” and he pompously declares that “she shall change her mind before long, if I think it’s worthwhile” (17). This interaction initially depicts Gilbert as arrogant and vain, but he quickly acknowledges his poor behavior: “it flashed upon me that these were very improper thoughts for a place of worship, and that my behavior, on the present occasion, was anything but what it ought to be” (17). Gilbert’s self-reflection once again represents his inherent goodness, as he tries not to give into his unethical masculine impulses. Hallenbeck highlights how “the resultant picture we receive of [Gilbert’s] youth is not flattering, [but] it does seem that his older self is poking fun at the imperfections, making them more ridiculous than malicious” (“How to be a Gentleman”).
City vs. Country Life
The bustling city of London provides the most auspicious environment for Arthur as he aims to evade the watchful eye of his disappointed wife and engage in the most scandalous activities. Because Helen is confined to her domestic duties at Grassdale Manor, Arthur frequently visits London without her, leaving her to feel isolated and dejected. Helen is initially under the impression that her husband is on important business when he goes off to London for weeks and months on end, but she soon becomes skeptical of his activities in the city. According to Waling, “masculinity can be seen as an effect produced through relations with the social world” (103), and this is why Arthur desperately attempts to keep his wife and his social life separate—to keep her from seeing all his wickedness in its wildest form. In his predictably manipulative fashion, Arthur makes up an excuse to leave Helen behind while he goes to the city. She informs her diary of how “he did not wish me to be Londonized, and to lose my country freshness and originality by too much intercourse with the ladies of the world” (216). This is an ironic lie for Arthur to tell, as he was escaping to London to quite literally have intercourse with certain impure “ladies of the world.” Within the novel, London serves as the epicenter of vice, a place where wealthy “gentlemen” could engage in unlawful acts without facing any guilt or suffering any consequences. To keep Helen compliant with his frequent absences, Arthur makes her feel “as if I had been some frail butterfly, he expressed himself fearful of rubbing the silver off my wings by bringing me into contact with society, especially that of Paris and Rome” (203). Arthur weaponizes Helen’s femininity to keep her in ignorance about all the gambling, drugs, alcohol, and cheating that he participates in in the city, but Helen eventually becomes too aware to be fooled by her husband’s perpetual lies.
While Helen’s diary does not disclose the details of Arthur’s time in London, his equally corrupt friends often expose and exacerbate his most deplorable qualities and habits. Arthur is a member of an “abominable [gentlemen’s] club” (Brontë 224), which gives him and his friends an excuse to act poorly. During her marriage to Arthur, Helen frequently documents her uneasiness when Arthur’s friends come around to stay at their house or attend a dinner party with them. She often refers to “Mr. Grimsby, a friend of his, but a man I very greatly disliked: there was a sinister cast in his countenance, and a mixture of lurking ferocity and fulsome insincerity in his demeanor, that I could not away with” (143). Helen’s uneasiness around Arthur’s intimidating group of friends can be understood by the Victorian idea that “imperial commitment beckoned as an unequivocal avowal of ‘hard’ masculinity, a means of evading the charge of failed manhood. It reinforced a man’s sense of his own masculinity, not only in his own estimation, but more importantly in the eyes of others” (Tosh 342). When Arthur and his friends gather, they immediately begin to encourage each other to give in to their carnal appetites, against the wishes of their worried wives. In Chapter Thirty-one, Helen expresses her resentment toward Arthur’s closest friends: “Those two detestable men Grimsby and Hattersley have destroyed all my labor against his love of wine. They encourage him daily to overstep the bounds of moderation, and, not unfrequently, to disgrace himself by positive excess” (270). This idea of excess over moderation is one significant way in which Arthur and his friends test each other’s masculinity, while also flaunting their own among one another. However, most of these men—including Arthur—severely pay for their addictions by allowing excess to lead them straight to ruin. In the presence of his companions, “Arthur Huntingdon acquires downright fiendish traits, and his actively corrupting influence becomes more and more accentuated” (Thormälen 837). The influences of London plague Helen’s narrative, uncovering the darkest parts of horrible men’s insatiable souls.
Marking a clear contrast between her two main male characters, Anne Brontë places Gilbert, Helen’s true love, in the country. He is therefore unpolluted by all the obscene activities and temptations presented to men in London society. In a fascinating moment that almost appears to be foreshadowing, Helen expresses her exasperation for having to entertain Arthur when they are together at Grassdale Manor, and he is no longer completely stimulated by the thrills of city life: “I wish he had something to do, some useful trade, or profession or employment—anything to occupy his head or his hands for a few hours a day, and give him something besides his own pleasure to think about. If he would play the country gentleman, and attend to the farm—but that he knows nothing about, and won’t give his mind to consider” (Brontë 225). It is as if Helen’s wish for Arthur to have a “useful trade” and “play the country gentleman” is manifested in her second marriage to Gilbert. While writing his letter to Halford, Gilbert admits that “[p]erhaps I was a little bit spoiled by my mother and sister and some other ladies of my acquaintance; —and yet I am by no means a fop—of that I am fully convinced” (Brontë 36). Gilbert detests the idea of being a foppish man—like Arthur—because he is motivated by his most moral qualities, and he does not concern himself with wealth or status. Hallenbeck points to how this “reinforces the conventional idea that he has not changed state, from ‘fop’ to gentleman, but only maximized his better qualities over time” (“How to Be a Gentleman”). Gilbert’s quiet life as an honest farmer in his village paired with his close-knit relationship to his mother and younger siblings makes him a better-suited husband for Helen, who also finds herself far more inclined to living a modest life in the countryside.
Conclusion
Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall has an undeniable fascination with the male psyche, including how men choose to carry out their lives based on their upbringings, status, and personal values. By intimately revealing the lives of two extremely different men— predominantly through the eyes of a woman— Brontë depicts the complicated relationship between the two sexes in society. Although this novel was written in the 1840s, its portrayal of harsh versus soft masculinity is still applicable to men in modern times. Issues such as domestic violence, alcoholism, and adultery are all issues that are still universally prevalent today. While men are no longer legally permitted to imprison or use violence against their wives like the Victorians did, there are still plenty of contemporary instances where women are socially and domestically suffocated by their husbands. [7] The jarring use of realism in this novel allows Anne to masterfully call out the dangerous and sexually targeted nature of men that lies beneath the surface of their exterior charm. However, the addition of Gilbert in this novel demonstrates how men can be virtuous, thoughtful, and kind based on how they allow certain external factors (such as upbringing, environment, social status) to determine their interactions with other people as well as the world around them. Although Gilbert possesses many flaws that are both inherent and developed in his character over time, his deep love and reverence for Helen and his desire to be an honest and positive figure within the community makes him a realistic and multi-faceted type of man that can still be identified in the modern day. Arthur Huntingdon serves as a vicious and immoral villain in Anne’s story, but Gilbert is the beacon of light who shines in the face of Helen’s darkness. And though Gilbert is not the typical male hero depicted in literature, he is a man who takes accountability for his wrongdoings. His empathy allows him to be considerate of his fellow human beings, which in turn makes him susceptible to change. He is not the best man, but he is certainly a good one.8
Despite the novel’s fixation on men, Helen’s story is a call for all women to defend themselves from the patriarchy by advocating for the future they deserve. Throughout her abusive and toxic marriage, Helen struggles to maintain her morality and shield her young, impressionable son from the corrupting influence of his father. Helen’s daring escape displays her unwavering courage and fortitude, as she goes against the law and her domineering husband for the sake of saving herself and her child from ruin. By leaving Arthur, Helen finds herself again. She not only regains her physical and emotional autonomy, but she also reconnects with her love of being alive. This novel can be considered an early piece of feminist literature, with strong female characters like Helen emerging from the androcentric narrative. By rejecting the overbearing patriarchal norms in an effort to establish self-identity and acquire peace, Helen stands as a beacon of hope and perseverance for all female readers, and she may have even provided some optimism and comfort to Anne, her meticulous creator. This brilliant, brutally honest novel transcends the nineteenth century by continuing to expose the behavioral patterns of both men and women. The Tenant’s impact on literature will never cease, with the great power of a resilient woman’s voice echoing throughout history forever.
Notes
[1] I would like to extend my deepest gratitude to the people who guided, supported, and encouraged me throughout my time at Saint Anselm. Thank you to Professor Meoghan Cronin, for exposing me to the world of Victorian literature and for igniting and fostering my love for the Brontës. Thank you to Professor Malieckal, for being there through every step of this project and for reassuring me about the future. Thank you to Professor Bouchard, the most hilarious and insightful teacher any literature-loving student could ask for (and for ensuring that I graduate on time). I would also like to acknowledge my Aunt Cece, who has done so much for me throughout these past four years. Thank you to Andrew, for uplifting and inspiring me every day. And finally, I would like to thank my mother and best friend, Kathylee, to whom I dedicate this paper; thank you for being my rock, for helping me pursue what I love, and for teaching me the value of hard work. Thank you all for believing in me, especially on the days when I did not believe in myself. I will never take for granted all the kindness you have shown me.
[2] Hegemonic masculinity is “often considered the most influential theoretical concept in the history of the study of men and masculinity” (Reeser 20). It is attributed to R.W. Connell’s book titled Masculinities (1995). The concept was also thoroughly discussed in a 1987 essay by Tim Carrigan, Bob Connell, and John Lee (Reeser 20).
[3] Thormälen’s article also mentions how “in Haworth, the Rev. Patrick Brontë and his son Branwell were at one time President and Secretary, respectively, of the local Temperance Society” (833), which depicts the large role that temperance played in Anne’s life.
[4] Before the births of Charlotte, Emily, and Anne, Maria and Patrick Brontë had two daughters named Maria and Elizabeth. The sisters passed away after contracting tuberculosis while attending boarding school; Maria was eleven when she died, and Elizabeth was ten (Holland 29). These tragic losses to the Brontë family greatly affected Anne and her sisters throughout their entire lives: “the surviving sisters would often wonder how things would have been if Maria had lived and whether she would have joined them in their writing endeavors” (Holland 26).
[5] Charlotte, Emily, and Anne initially published their novels under pseudonyms to protect their identity and keep readers from judging their works on account of the fact that they were women. Their published names were Currer (Charlotte), Ellis (Emily), and Acton (Anne) Bell. The gender ambiguity in these unique names was deliberate, leaving many readers and literary critics questioning who was behind these groundbreaking works.
[6] Arthur—in most scenes—displays sociopathic behavior. His complete lack of empathy for other living things, as well as his twisted obsession with harming animals (whether through hunting or mistreating his own pets at home), are all clear indications of a sociopath.
[7] According to Holland, “[w]ives remained the legal property of their husband until 1891, and prior to this time a husband could legally keep his wife imprisoned if she refused to have sex with him” (193). 8 Also worth noting is the way in which Gilbert treats Helen as an artist. While Arthur is disgusted with the idea of his wife creating her own art, giving her a sense of autonomy, Gilbert only loves and admires Helen more for her incredible talent. Arthur neglects and suppresses Helen’s artistry throughout their stifling marriage, but Gilbert embraces it and encourages her to keep creating: “I see your heart is in your work, Mrs. Graham” (Brontë 49); this exposes a more gentle and sensitive side to Gilbert’s character.
Works Cited
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Diederich, Nicole A. “The Art of Comparison: Remarriage in Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.” Rocky Mountain Review of Language and Literature, vol. 57, no. 2, 2003, pp. 25–41. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/1348391.
Hellenbeck, Sarah. “How to Be a Gentleman Without Really Trying: Gilbert Markham in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.” Nineteenth-Century Gender Studies, vol.1, no.1, 2005. https://www.ncgsjournal.com/issue1/hallenbeck.html.
Holland, Nick. In Search of Anne Brontë. The History Press, 2016.
Jacobs, N. M. “Gender and Layered Narrative in Wuthering Heights and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.” The Journal of Narrative Technique, vol. 16, no. 3, 1986, pp. 204–19. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/30225153.
Joshi, Priti. “Masculinity and Gossip in Anne Brontë's Tenant.” Studies in English Literature 1500-1900, vol. 49, no. 4, 2009, pp. 907-924. https://geisel.idm.oclc.org/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/scholarly journals/masculinity-gossip-anne-brontës-tenant/docview/204344335/se-2.
Kuglin, Aysegul. "'The Most Attractive to the Worst Kinds of Men:' Self-Importance and Romantic Relationships in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall." Victorians: A Journal of Culture and Literature, no. 126, 2014, pp. 46-62. Gale Literature Resource Center, gale.com/apps/doc/A392368499/LitRC?u=manc23575&sid=summon&xid=8702f9f3.
Maunsell, Melinda. “The Hand-Made Tale: Hand Codes and Power Transactions in Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.” Victorian Review, vol.23, no.1, 1997, pp. 43-61. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27794855.
Reeser, Todd W. “Concepts of Masculinity and Masculinity Studies.” Configuring Masculinity in Theory and Literary Practice, edited by Stefan Horlacher, Brill, 2015, pp. 11–38. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1163/j.ctv2gjwt1m.5.
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