It's Branwell's day (or so it seems)

This Is London has a review on Polly Teale's play Brontë, which arrived in London a few days ago. This review looks briefly into every sibling, but especially into Branwell. And sexuality in the play.

We were shocked at finding the following:

When Branwell seizes and presses himself against Fenella Woolgar's memorably pathetic Charlotte, showering her with a mockery of sexual kisses, he signals an awareness of her incestuous desire for him.
Emily and Anne watch in appalled silence. Mrs Rochester, who recurs here as the crazed, voluptuous figure of Charlotte's fantasising, suggests how far Branwell may have disturbed her sexual imagination.

It's no wonder Emily and Anne watch in "appalled silence". We would, too! Although we are sure Emily is smiling inwardly at no longer being the only one to have that kind of thing looming over her head.

Finally, according to Nicholas de Jongh - the reviewer - "the conceit that the actresses playing the Brontës should serve as commentators on their own lives reflects the awkward realisation of her brilliant idea.".

But isn't that a bit contradictory though?

Categories: In_the_News, Theatre, Branwell_Brontë