The Brontes were like Elvis in their day. I realize this comparison isn't the best, but I make it because, like people who claim to spot the "King's"...moreThe Brontes were like Elvis in their day. I realize this comparison isn't the best, but I make it because, like people who claim to spot the "King's" ghost to this day and visit Graceland as if it's Eden, literary fans through the past three centuries have apparently spoken to the Bronte sisters through seances and continue to flock to Haworth Parsonage like it's their personal Mecca.
What made three very simple clergyman's daughters reach the status of myth in Western culture? Lucasta Miller explores this question. For me, personally, it is difficult to think of any books that equal Wuthering Heights, Villete, or Jane Eyre in brilliance (especially WH). But others may disagree- many hold authors such as Thackeray and Austen, even George Eliot, in higher esteem. Yet these authors don't have the mystique and sheer awe surrounding them that the Brontes do. Why is that?
The answer, as Miller postulates, is very simple and quite sad. And it can be traced to one woman. Elizabeth Gaskell.
When the Brontes' novels were first published, they were instantly claimed as genius. But here's the catch- that was when people thought the authors were men (they'd written under masculine pseudonyms, as most of you already know). When word somehow got out that Currer, Acton, and Ellis were really Charlotte, Anne, and Emily, people didn't know what to think. They were horrified that women should have written works of such passion. It wasn't right. The authors, naturally, must have mental problems, which must be rooted in a tragic life.
Elizabeth Gaskell took this last theory and ran with it in her "Life of Charlotte Bronte," written after Charlotte's death. Gaskell wrote some excellent novels herself, and although rich in depth and societal criticism, fire-women like Cathy and Jane cannot be found in her books. She didn't think it was normal for such women to exist in the female imagination. This could only happen, she decided, because the Brontes had led such an oppressive life that writing disturbing novels became their drug.
It is undeniable that the Brontes had had serious tragedies in their lives- such as the loss of their mother, siblings, and of course, Branwell's famous descent into addiction. But their lives were also balanced with fun, companionship, and travel. Gaskell downplays or excludes ALL the positive in their lives. On top of that, she completely makes up horrifying (and baseless) stories about Patrick Bronte, the patriarch of the family and various other Bronte acquaintances, so that it seems that Charlotte, Emily, Anne were mere Cinderellas in a world that was one giant Wicked Stepmother. It's interesting to note that Gaskell left town after the book's publication because she was afraid of the attack of libel lawyers.
Well, the lawyers attacked anyway (rightly so), and Gaskell was forced to revise the next editions of her book. But the damage was already done, and the myth had been created. Gaskell's biography was the basis of all Bronte bios that followed through the years, so the myth remained(s).
The rest of the book follows the creation and attempted unraveling of this myth. Miller writes with humor and clarity- her prose is as lucid as if she were receiving direction from the Bronte sisters themselves.
The book's one flaw is its lack of focus on Anne. Miller mentions in one page how sad it is that Anne has never gotten proper acknowledgement from biographers, and then does the same thing herself! Honestly, that was the only thing keeping me from giving this book a full five stars. Nevertheless, Bronte fans must get their hands on this book.
I've always been a little obsessed with the Brontes- I don't know, maybe I was their cousin or something in a past life. I'm also a proclaimed Daphne...moreI've always been a little obsessed with the Brontes- I don't know, maybe I was their cousin or something in a past life. I'm also a proclaimed Daphne DuMaurier fanatic. So imagine my excitement to find Ms. DuMaurier's biography of that mysterious, supposed-genius brother, Branwell Bronte. This book is short, as was the life of its subject and his sisters. But this review's gonna be long, so bear with me.
Now, I'd heard rumors- mostly college professor gossip- about Branwell during the years. That he really was the one who wrote Wuthering Heights (!!), that he was an addict, a failed genius, tortured, the real Heathcliff, etc. Never having read about him, I concocted a vision of him. In my vision, he was a tall, brooding pale male specimen, with auburn curls and possibly a beard. Hazel eyes, a reproachful voice, cigarette in hands. A nineteenth-century James Dean. I was a little upset to read that I'd gotten only the hair and skin color right. Apparently Branwell Bronte resembled a red-headed Woody Allen more than the fifties film icon.
Sadly, the rumors about the tortured mind were true. Honestly, the first couple of chapters were so dry that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to continue. But I did. The Bronte siblings had a sad early life: their mother and two older sisters passed away when Branwell, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne were all children. They had a loving father and aunt to take care of them, though- and although they weren't well-off, it doesn't appear that they were suffering for money either.
The Bronte siblings wove stories at a young age, collaborating on romantic epics when most people their age were probably playing kick-the-can or whatever 19th century kids did. Branwell was apparently the most prolific. He was "The Boy." And being the "Boy" in an all-girls family in the 1800s, big dreams were pinned upon him. Branwell was a genius- a multi-talented prodigy. He would shine, he would make his family proud.
Then things went downhill. First of all, his father refused to send him to school with his sisters. No reason for this decision is provided. Du Maurier speculates that something was wrong with him emotionally. She carries these speculations throughout the book- that maybe Branwell was epileptic or had some form of schizophrenia. But there is no concrete evidence that supports her speculations.
Apparently Branwell was cheerful good company, and a little full of himself (he was, after all, "The Son"). But whereas the Bronte sisters make it a point to earn steady incomes and write books, Branwell can't stick to one project, job, etc. He's aimless, and he changes his mind frequently. At 23, the "Son" that everyone had pinned such high hopes on is fired from two jobs as a rail station clerk. He's unemployed and mopes (trust me, in this economy, I can sympathize). He takes a job as a tutor and is fired from that for 'inappropriate conduct.' I think we can all read between the lines there, but it's still pure speculation as to what happened. Branwell tells his family that it was a love affair between him and the employer's wife, but Du Maurier has establised that Branwell often can't distinguish reality from fantasy. After that failed job, Branwell spends his time abusing alcohol and laudanum while his sisters make a living through their writing and teaching.
Branwell's story has a sad end- demise at age 31 from abuse of his body and a broken heart. But the thing is- again, what SPECIFICALLY caused Branwell to take this turn? DuMaurier chalks it up to his sensitive nature, combined with the deaths of his older sisters, the pressure of performing as the brilliant only son, and mental illness. The last factor is never proven- it seems that Branwell did have adult ADD possibly, but that's it. As for the sensitivity and family deaths, his sisters went through the same things he did, so what prompted them to soldier on and him to just give up?
This question got me thinking about larger issues, such as what specifically causes the members of the same close-knit family to diverge in such opposite directions? I think hardiness of character is a big role. DuMaurier doesn't come out and say this in her bio, but it's hard for the reader not to think it. An example:
Both Charlotte and Branwell had sent examples of their amateur work to Wordsworth for his commentary (which is kind of like me mailing my short stories to Margaret Atwood asking her to tell me if they're any good, but I digress). Branwell didn't receive a reply, and as for Charlotte, Wordsworth pretty much thought her a bimbo. Ouch! But where Branwell was floored by this and other failures, Charlotte persevered with her writing, even after her self-published poems and first novel failed.
I'm sympathetic to Branwell- it's hard not to be when you're done reading this book. But I also take it as a warning- make sure you're on the Charlotte path in life and not the Branwell.
Charlotte, the only Bronte sibling left after the fame said this about her brother, when trying to figure out how exactly he went wrong, "I seemed to receive an oppressive revelation of the feebleness of humanity; of the inadequacy of even genius to lead to true greatness if unaided by religion and principle."
It sounds harsh, but I think, and perhaps Du Maurier, if she were alive, would agree, that Branwell wanted the greatness of life, but not the effort that's needed to gain it. Still, he was his sister's muse and joy- I believe that his presence played a role in their feverish literary conceptions, and that's good enough for me.
PS- He didn't write WH, but it's possible that Emily had gotten the idea from him. (less)
So, my Bronte obsession continues- when I saw this book half-price in Houston, I had to snatch it up. I think this bio may have been one of the answer...moreSo, my Bronte obsession continues- when I saw this book half-price in Houston, I had to snatch it up. I think this bio may have been one of the answers to the Elizabeth Gaskell bio, where Charlotte was portrayed as an oh-so-Victorian suffering lily. In this one, as you've guessed from the title, Gordon focuses on Charlotte's passion, her drive, and her determination to express her truth.
There are some very interesting photographs in here (I didn't think Charlotte was as 'plain' as everyone seems to say she was). The book does get too bogged down in detail at some points- e.g, George Smith (publisher) sent her a letter on May 12th that said...blah blah. Charlotte responded on the 13th, saying blah blah. Then George Smith responded on the 14th, saying blah...you get it. One interesting thing that Gordon does is transitioning from discussing Charlotte's personal life to repeating passages from "Jane Eyre" or "Villete." Sometimes this works, other times it ends up feeling choppy and disjointed. And I also felt Gordon wasn't clear on some aspects of Charlotte's life- such as whether she ever 'came out' as Charlotte, or whether she was known as Currer Bell to her audience to her death. This can't be possible, since she was getting fame in a literary circle, but at the same time, I also got the impression that it was "Currer" printed on the covers of the book until her death. I wish the author could have cleared this up.
Overall, though- very well-written, and a must-read for Bronte fans. (less)
The story is simple- Agnes Grey is a clergyman's daughter who wishes to earn her living as a governess. The book reads as a diary without the dates of...moreThe story is simple- Agnes Grey is a clergyman's daughter who wishes to earn her living as a governess. The book reads as a diary without the dates of her experiences 'teaching' the offspring of the 'cream of the crop' in nineteenth-century British society. I use those words in quotes because the narrator makes it very clear to the reader that learning for the sake of learning is not foremost on her students' minds. And she also makes it clear that she finds the fact that these shallow, arrogant, shallow, shallow people are so highly esteemed in society laughable.
And I burst out laughing pretty much throughout every chapter of the book-which definitely didn't happen when I read Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre. It's funny to see the intelligent, subdued Agnes attempt to get into discussions on morality with Rosalie Murray- her sixteen-year-old student who's pretty much a nineteenth-century Paris Hilton. The issue of morality and Christian values is a strong theme throughout the book, which does make Agnes, who's otherwise very likable, a bit self-righteous. She's shocked at the idea of flirting and spending money on pretty clothes. I mean, come on. Then again, this is 1800s England.
One thing that irked me is the way all rich people are characterized to be an all-encompassing evil and people of the lower classes are considered to be inherently good. In this story, Agnes meets rich people who torture small animals for no reason, take pride in breaking people's hearts, treat their children like they're dogs, and dissipate their time and energy in celebrating wine, women, and song. Meanwhile, the poor people are nothing but love and light. Sorry- but it don't work that way. I know rich white people have been villainized in literature, but the basic truth is- there's good and bad in all people, regardless of race and class. Yet Agnes Grey finds no redeeming quality (other than physical appearance) in any of her employers.
But there were some serious problems with class divide in this society, and this work tackles that- which is commendable on its own. Yes, governesses were treated as barely fit to tie their employers' shoes, no matter how intelligent and refined the governess and how crass and rude the employer. Anne Bronte makes keen observations on a society that has come to pride itself on money and rank above anything else. That said- I still stand by my previous argument. Making a valid point is fine, but when the characters become caricatures, it becomes harder for the reader to take it seriously.
I know an author's work should stand on its own- endless comparison to other writers is for boring literary critics and PH.D candidates in English. But with Anne Bronte, I couldn't help it. The legends surrounding the Brontes are almost bigger than their literary conceptions. I kept comparing her to Charlotte and Emily.
Anne Bronte, in a way, is more readable than her sisters. Her prose is direct, wit-laden, and almost reminiscent of Austen's cool observations of British class and gender divides. The sense of tragedy and intense romance that permeate her sisters' work is absent here. But that's fine with me. Agnes Grey easily goes down in my list as a favorite.(less)
Jane Eyre on the shelf, my fingers hesitating to pull it out... bad memories of eighth-grade English class mixed in with adolescent angst flashing thr...moreJane Eyre on the shelf, my fingers hesitating to pull it out... bad memories of eighth-grade English class mixed in with adolescent angst flashing through my head. But come on, I'm a Brontephile! Had to reread this one. Great decision. Being obsessed with Wuthering Heights, I kept - for better or worse- comparing the two books. Both stay inside you for a long time. With Wuthering Heights, I felt it was by showing you how NOT to behave in order to be a good human being. But in Jane, her creator gave us a character who provides an example of how to live a life of integrity in a way that even women in the current century can relate to. Rochester didn't particularly impress me as a teen. Although I still wouldn't necessarily want him as my boyfriend, he pulled me in this time with his blazing nature and depth of feeling.
Now, my particular edition is the Junior Illustrated. I love these editions (what can I say- I love bright colors!). Though the pictures in these books are lovely, they really don't capture the essence of Jane Eyre at all. Reading Jane Eyre is like walking through a beautiful and frightening jungle. These illustrations are too clean and belong in a lighter read. Not to mention that Jane's not supposed to look like Anne Hathaway. And the woman in the attic wasn't white- and she most DEFINITELY would not be dressed like she's going to a cotillion after months in an attic. Perhaps one of the graphic novels out there do a better job with the visuals. (less)
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