Agnes Grey

…but our wishes are like tinder: the flint and steel of circumstances are continually striking out sparks, which vanish immediately, unless they chance to fall upon the tinder of our wishes; then, they instantly ignite, and the flame of hope is kindled in a moment.

2024 reread: I am sticking by my 4-star rating on my second read.

Agnes Grey is an absolutely charming, simple little novel that made me cry in multiple spots, but a bit slow (dare I admit I was bored?) in some parts. Of the three, Anne must be the sensitive Brontë sister, and it very much comes through in

Agnes.

What really stood out to me this time around is how much Agnes loves animals. Between the horrific animal cruelty of some of her wards (these are truly terrible children) that troubles so much and the little dog that she loves so much, animals feature prominently in the plot and Agnes’s thoughts, and she is careful to observe how others treat animals (and judge their character accordingly). She has a determination and moral compass that are admirable, even if she is also shy and quiet.

That, and the pining—oh, the pining!—that makes VIctorian romances so fun to read.

I stand by my initial observation that the novel is structurally very strange. I don’t think the first section is as repetitive and thus unnecessary as I once did: her time with the Bloomfields establishes that beneath her sweetness she has real grit (I’m thinking specifically of her

killing the birds as an act of mercy

). However, her time with the Murrays goes on so long that the novel just feels lopsided, particularly given that the third part of the novel (

back at home

) is so short.

Original 2021 review: Reading

Agnes Grey is like having a story told to you by a dear friend. There's just something so charming and lyrical about Anne's prose, it's impossible not to love Agnes: poor timid, plain, unobtrusive, socially awkward Agnes!

While it would never pass for a retelling, this novel made me think of Cinderella more than once, complete with

a fairytale proposal on the seaside cliffs at sunset (and after reading this, I'm convinced there's truly nothing more romantic than holding onto a gentleman's arm while climbing up from the beach)

. It may be short, but each page is a delight.

Ultimately, though, I did knock of a star because it's fairly straightforward, without much complexity in either characters or plot, and I just didn't have much of an emotional reaction until the end. Moreover, the first ~25% of the novel is spent with Agnes acting as governess for the Bloomfields…a section which seems largely pointless from a narrative perspective (cut that section out and the reader would lose nothing important about the plot or Agnes's character). I preferred

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, but that doesn't change the fact that this was a wonderful read and I'm slightly heartbroken that Anne wrote no other books.

Some favorite passages:

All true histories contain instruction; though, in some, the treasure may be hard to find, and when found, so trivial in quantity that the dry, shrivelled kernel scarcely compensates for the trouble of cracking the nut.

I should do vastly well, she said, if I would only throw aside my diffidence, and acquire a little more confidence in myself.

By this time the carriage was ready, and the footman was waiting, with an open umbrella, to escort Miss Murray through the churchyard. I was about to follow; but Mr. Weston had an umbrella too, and offered me the benefit of its shelter, for it was raining heavily. “No, thank you, I don’t mind the rain,” I said. I always lacked common sense when taken by surprise.

When we had surmounted the acclivity, I was about to withdraw my arm from his, but by a slight tightening of the elbow was tacitly informed that such was not his will, and accordingly desisted.

“You love me then?” said he, fervently pressing my hand. “Yes.” Here I pause. My diary, from which I compiled these pages, goes but little farther. I could go on for years; but I will content myself with adding, that I shall never forget that glorious Summer evening, and always remember with delight that steep hill, and the edge of the precipice where we stood together watching the splendid sunset mirrored on the restless world of waters at our feet—with hearts filled with gratitude to Heaven, and happiness, and love—almost too full for speech.

2024 additions:

“You think, because I always do as you bid me, I have no judgment of my own: but only try me—that is all I ask—and you shall see what I can do.”

It was with a strange feeling of desolation, mingled with a strong sense of the novelty of my situation, and a joyless kind of curiosity concerning what was yet unknown, that I awoke the next morning; feeling like one whirled away by enchantment, and suddenly dropped from the clouds into a remote and unknown land, widely and completely isolated from all he had ever seen or known before; or like a thistle-seed borne on the wind to some strange nook of uncongenial soil, where it must lie long enough before it can take root and germinate, extracting nourishment from what appears so alien to its nature: if, indeed, it ever can.

Such a party was highly agreeable to Rosalie; but not finding it equally suitable to my taste, I presently fell back, and began to botanise and entomologise along the green banks and budding hedges, till the company was considerably in advance of me, and I could hear the sweet song of the happy lark; then my spirit of misanthropy began to melt away beneath the soft, pure air and genial sunshine; but sad thoughts of early childhood, and yearnings for departed joys, or for a brighter future lot, arose instead. As my eyes wandered over the steep banks covered with young grass and green-leaved plants, and surmounted by budding hedges, I longed intensely for some familiar flower that might recall the woody dales or green hill-sides of home: the brown moorlands, of course, were out of the question. Such a discovery would make my eyes gush out with water, no doubt; but that was one of my greatest enjoyments now. At length I descried, high up between the twisted roots of an oak, three lovely primroses, peeping so sweetly from their hiding-place that the tears already started at the sight; but they grew so high above me, that I tried in vain to gather one or two, to dream over and to carry with me: I could not reach them unless I climbed the bank, which I was deterred from doing by hearing a footstep at that moment behind me, and was, therefore, about to turn away, when I was startled by the words, “Allow me to gather them for you, Miss Grey,” spoken in the grave, low tones of a well-known voice. Immediately the flowers were gathered, and in my hand. It was Mr. Weston, of course—who else would trouble himself to do so much for

me?

I began this book with the intention of concealing nothing; that those who liked might have the benefit of perusing a fellow-creature’s heart: but we have some thoughts that all the angels in heaven are welcome to behold, but not our brother-men—not even the best and kindest amongst them.

As for the primroses, I kept two of them in a glass in my room until they were completely withered, and the housemaid threw them out; and the petals of the other I pressed between the leaves of my Bible—I have them still, and mean to keep them always.

I was sorry for her; I was amazed, disgusted at her heartless vanity; I wondered why so much beauty should be given to those who made so bad a use of it, and denied to some who would make it a benefit to both themselves and others. But, God knows best, I concluded. There are, I suppose, some men as vain, as selfish, and as heartless as she is, and, perhaps, such women may be useful to punish them.

How do you amuse yourself when alone—do you read much?” “Reading is my favourite occupation, when I have leisure for it and books to read.” From speaking of books in general, he passed to different books in particular, and proceeded by rapid transitions from topic to topic, till several matters, both of taste and opinion, had been discussed considerably within the space of half an hour, but without the embellishment of many observations from himself; he being evidently less bent upon communicating his own thoughts and predilections, than on discovering mine.

Being too much unhinged for any steady occupation, I wandered about with a book in my hand for several hours, more thinking than reading, for I had many things to think about.

The end of Religion is not to teach us how to die, but how to live; and the earlier you become wise and good, the more of happiness you secure.

There was just enough heat to enhance the value of the breeze, and just enough wind to keep the whole sea in motion, to make the waves come bounding to the shore, foaming and sparkling, as if wild with glee.

My footsteps were the first to press the firm, unbroken sands;—nothing before had trampled them since last night’s flowing tide had obliterated the deepest marks of yesterday, and left them fair and even, except where the subsiding water had left behind it the traces of dimpled pools and little running streams.

Agnes Grey is a book about kindness and cruelty.

Initially Agnes lives in a home with a loving family, and although they do not always believe in her, they clearly care for her.

When times become tough for her family Agnes sets out to be a governess, and the homes that she works in expose just how cruel people can be. Some characters seem more like a cartoonish idea of evil, while others are more grounded and cause misery for others by being selfish or by speaking carelessly.

Agnes Grey as a book does emphasize and glorify the Victorian ideals quite a bit by showing all of the characters who are emotional to be careless and selfish while all of the characters who are reserved and metered are also thoughtful and kind. For a good contrast consider David Copperfield in which all of the characters who are overtly emotional are incredibly kind, supportive and loving, while all of the characters who can look stern and dignified are generally cartoonishly evil.

Bronte does an excellent job of creating a certain feel around all of the characters, they're written in such a way that their dialogue and descriptions will do anything from make you feel like you're listening to a big sister or in the case of some characters make your skin crawl.