The actual key to Yorkshire hotels

Bustle suggests some literary things to do and see in London and reminds us of the fact that,

It was here that the Brontë sisters found an audience, and sparked wild rumors over their true identity (only when they appeared in person were they able to prove they were, in fact, three women). (Lauren Hossack)

The New York Times reviews Kamel Daoud's The Meursault Investigation, a new look at Albert Camus's L'Étranger.

Because they offer us a chance to look at the same story with new eyes, literary retellings have always been popular. Jane Smiley’s “A Thousand Acres” reimagines “King Lear” on a farm in Iowa. Tayeb Salih’s “Season of Migration to the North” borrows its structure from Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness.” Jean Rhys’s “Wide Sargasso Sea” uncovers the story of the madwoman in Charlotte Brontë’s “Jane Eyre.” But to be successful, a literary retelling must not simply dress up an old story in new clothes. It must also be so convincing and so satisfying that we no longer think of the original story as the truth, but rather come to question it. (Laila Lalami)

Theatre director Nicola Bond speaks to Community News (Australia) about adapting works like Wuthering Heights or Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca.

She directed Rebecca – penned by Daphne du Maurier in 1938 and brought to the big screen by Alfred Hitchcock in 1940 – 15 years ago for Melville Theatre Company and adds similarly chilling masterpieces, Wuthering Heights, Dracula and Frankenstein, to her long list of productions.
“The story of Rebecca is quite applicable to this day and age: a second wife coming into a house where the first wife used to be,” Bond said.
“Until Hitchcock did the film, it was read but not as widely. Then when he did the film, it made du Maurier a really popular and famous author.
“It’s a bit the same as Wuthering Heights, which was very widely read, but when they did the film adaptation everybody started to go back to the Brontë’s and read.” (Sara Fitzpatrick)

East Anglian Daily Times tells about a trip to Yorkshire.

We booked into a hotel where the temperature of the hot water is volcanic and the view from the window has sheep. Yorkshire also offers a number of literary opportunities.
I had originally offered to stand outside in the hotel garden and sing: “Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cath-ee, I’ve come how’um so co-o-o-old, let me in at your window-wow-ow-ow.” But my husband said that wouldn’t be necessary, because I could have the key. [...]
Well, yes, the forecast had included a warning but down where I live, my comment would have sparked a pub-wide conversation about trudging through floodwater to get a pint and how, the last time it was this bad, we lost a swathe of Rendlesham Forest. I realised that if I was going to prompt a jocular interchange, I would need something of more substance than a throwaway remark about the weather.
I briefly considered a sheep reference but thought better of it. I didn’t want to provoke dark mutterings. Perhaps a discussion about the Brontës? Or maybe I should have ordered something more than half a pint of
draught bitter and a lime and soda. (Lynne Mortimer)

Patheos's Eidos discusses St John Rivers.