Saturday, July 27, 2013

Publishers Weekly lists several novels which 'crossed the gender line':
The Professor by Charlotte Brontë -
Moving backward in time to the 1850s, we have Charlotte Brontë’s first novel, for which she was unable to find a publisher until after her second novel, Jane Eyre, became a huge hit. The Professor tells of a young Englishman in Belgium who falls in love with his student, a story that is reprised in a slightly different guise in the romance between Lucy Snowe and Paul Emanuel in Brontë’s Villette. According to Brontë’s biographers, the storyline is derived at least in part from doomed feelings Brontë herself developed for a married professor who taught her when she studied in Belgium, making this an instance where a personal disappointment spurred a work of art—actually two—that would prove to be far more enduring. (Adelle Waldman)
The Toronto Star reviews Hellgoing by Lynn Coady:
As Jan matures into adulthood she substitutes Robo-friendzfor alcohol and identifies with the inebriated 1960s novelist, Jean Rhys, author of Wide Sargasso Sea, a 1966 prequel to Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. Rhys becomes an invisible character in the story, since Jan constantly reflects on her. (Jennifer Hunter)
And, of course, the pseudonym article of the day:
Authors' pen names have been commonplace since the Brontë sisters used male monikers to escape the patronising prejudices of the day against lady writers. Now they have come under renewed scrutiny because J. K. Rowling has confessed she was the writer of a well-reviewed but modest-selling crime novel, The Cuckoo's Calling, supposedly written by a retired military police investigator called Robert Galbraith. (Jane Sullivan in The Sydney Morning Herald)
The author Laila Lalami talks about her origins in the New York Times:
My mother did not take part in these fictions. She spoke little about her childhood in the orphanage. Sometimes she hummed a French lullaby that one of the nuns taught her. I went to sleep on many a night to the sound of “Au clair de la lune” or “Fais dodo, Colas.” But other times, a wave of resentment welled within her, and she would describe being forced to eat on a dirty table from which chickens were allowed to feed. Naturally I developed an early and lifelong affinity for literary orphans, like Oliver Twist and Jane Eyre. Later, when I became a novelist, orphans and abandoned children turned up in my work, unbidden.
In the East Village Magazine we found an early Brontëite:
When I was about 14, I took a long leave of absence from children's books to discover the great classics of the western world. Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, recommended by a kindred spirit of my own, was my first introduction to plot lines brimming with sticky moral complications. After that, there was no looking back.
I was so taken with the turbulent romance between Edward Rochester and Jane Eyre — two fiercely independent spirits whose passions were great enough to ignite a lightning storm when finally united — that I persuaded my parents to allow me to subscribe to a mail-order book club called the International Collector's Library Literary Master's Series. (Kara Kvasnicka)
Summer houseguests in The Huffington Post:
Just for example, it has been my fate to fall seriously ill just the day after arriving at very old friends' homes, and be rendered incapable of departure, à la Brontë's Catherine and Austen's Marianne. Very bad summerhouse-guest form, altogether, but not to be helped at the time. (Elizabeth Boleman-Herring)
HealthCanal discusses morning sickess during pregnancy aka hypemeresis gravidarum:
Without treatment the condition can be life-threatening. Nineteenth century author Charlotte Brontë died from Hyperemesis Gravidarum.
El Mundo (Spain) discusses the films of Luis Buñuel:
«Porque humo es nuestro aliento, y el pensamiento una centella del latido de nuestro corazón. Extinguido éste, el cuerpo se vuelve ceniza, y el espíritu se disipa como tenue aire... Ninguno de nosotros falte a nuestras orgías, quede por doquier rastro de nuestras liviandades, porque ésta es nuestra porción y nuestra suerte», lee el anciano al niño en 'Abismos de pasión', la adaptación buñueliana de 'Cumbres borrascosas'. La nada de la muerte frente a la liviana certeza de la pasión. El texto pertenece al fragmento, en opinión de Buñuel, más bello de la Biblia: 'El libro de la Sabiduría'. (Luis Martínez) (Translationv)
@BobbyGeorge180 has visited Haworth.


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