The One about the Eponymous Governess, Her Much Older Love Interest, the Madwoman in the Attic, the Ghostly Voice Echoing across the Moors, and Alex’s Essay Test:
All that and so much more can be found in Jane Eyre, by my favorite Brontë sister, Charlotte.
(NB: The story does NOT end with Jane fighting off her husband’s homicidal first wife.)
The One about Codependent Drama Queens Heathcliff and Cathy, Who Inflict Their Relationship Issues on Everyone around Them:
That would be Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë (a.k.a. the more twisted Brontë sister).
The One about the Cruel and Philandering Husband Who Has No Skill at Subterfuge:
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is by Anne “The Perpetually Overshadowed” Brontë. The scene in a moonlit garden that Arden recreated with Miles goes something like this:
“My darling, you love me again! Does this mean you’ll stop carousing with your vile friends and corrupting our son?”
“Helen!” (roughly shoving her out of his arms) “What are you doing here? Go inside at once!”
“Oh . . . okay.” My, that was odd! One might almost think he was expecting someone else, like the beautiful lady who’s been staying with us for months, giving me mocking glances. I wonder what it could mean?
The One Where She Names Her Baby Sorrow and Later Turns Stabby:
Tess of the d’Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy. There are actually two bad guys here: one coerces Tess into single motherhood, and the other (not-so-aptly named Angel) judges her for having a checkered past, even though he’s not exactly pure as the driven snow himself, thereby driving Tess to violent despair.
The One in Which Being Poor but Pretty Is a Recipe for Disaster, Especially When Your Friends are the Worst and Society Is a Shark Tank (but More Vicious):
The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton.
The One about Whales, Obsession, Testosterone Poisoning, Phrenology, and Ten Thousand Other Digressions That Will Test Your Patience to the Breaking Point:
Moby Dick, by Herman Melville.
The One about the Innocent Abroad Marrying the Sleazy European Fortune Hunter with the Mistress, Even Though Isabel Archer Had Way Better Options:
Henry James had a thing for stories in which the virtuous are punished. The most famous is this one, Portrait of a Lady.
The One about Cecil the Snobby Fiancé and the Au Naturel Guy She Goes for Instead, with Bonus Italian Scenery:
A Room with a View, the most cheerful of E. M. Forster novels.
The One about a Pretentious Geezer Named Casaubon Who Tries to Hide That He’s Full of It by Browbeating His Much Younger (and Cleverer) Wife, Dorothea:
That would be Middlemarch, by George Eliot, the pen name of one Mary Anne Evans. Happily, Dorothea eventually sees the light. And a handsome, age-appropriate love interest who respects her.
The Ones with Sleepwalking, Doppelgangers, Secret Societies, Cursed Jewels, and the Birth of the Detective Genre:
The Moonstone and The Woman in White, both by Wilkie Collins.
The One with the Slut-Shaming Double Standard and the Scarlet A That Is Not a Monogram:
The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne.
The One Where the Handsome Mill Owner Sees the Object of His Affection at a Train Station with Another Man Late at Night and Assumes the Worst, but Everything Turns Out Okay in the End:
North and South, by Elizabeth Gaskell. (Spoiler alert: the guy at the station was really her brother.) The miniseries gets top marks, too.
The One with the Tragic Waste of a Wedding Cake:
Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens. And yes, it’s really about Pip and Estella and a thousand other characters, but Miss Havisham casts a long shadow. Hell hath no fury like a woman abandoned at the altar.
The One in Which the Heroine Is TSTL:
How dumb is Pamela, heroine of the eponymous novel by Samuel Richardson? She can’t climb a low wall without injuring herself. She’s afraid of cows, because she thinks they are bulls. And when the horrible Mr. B climbs into bed with her disguised as a housemaid, Pamela doesn’t have a clue. (With thanks to Lydia for teaching me the phrase too stupid to live.)
The Collected Works of Jane Austen:
Ask Jasper. He’s the expert.