Branwell in a coffee shop

The Independent features Branwell in the year of his bicentenary with the headline 'Branwell Brontë: The mad, bad and dangerous brother of Charlotte, Emily and Anne' and yet the article, with comments by Simon Armitage, is not as sensational as the headline would imply.

The sisters, of course, are known the world over for their collective body of work including Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. Very little is widely known about Branwell, other than he had ambitions to be a successful artist which were never realised, and died aged 31 after spiralling into addiction to alcohol, laudanum and opium. There are even conspiracy theories which abound which claim Branwell actually wrote his sisters’ books for them.
But while it’s tempting to view Branwell as a Byronesque, proto-Beat Poet figure who suffered for his art through drink and drugs, the reality is he led a rather tragic life littered with failures, fraught ambitions, and unfulfilled dreams. [...]
But this is Branwell’s year, and curating a series of events and exhibitions at the Parsonage is the poet, playwright and novelist Simon Armitage. On 7 October, at the museum, Armitage will be in conversation about Branwell’s life with the actor Adam Nagaitis, who portrayed the Brontë brother in last year’s Sally Wainwright BBC drama about the family, To Walk Invisible.
“To a certain extent, I’ve always been aware of Branwell,” says Armitage, who was born in Huddersfield and now lives in Holmfirth. “But I suppose he was always a background figure in the Brontë story. He did literally paint himself out of his own portrait of the family.”
The Parsonage asked Armitage, who says growing up in West Yorkshire meant the Brontë story was “always part of the landscape for me”, to curate this year’s Branwell events. “It’s not really a celebration,” he says carefully. “I think that’s the wrong word when talking about Branwell. But it is a marking of the 200th anniversary of his birth. I think what I’m hoping is that this year will raise Branwell’s profile a bit. I suppose it’s something of a re-branding exercise.”
Largely educated at the Parsonage by Elizabeth and visiting tutors, Branwell was a precocious child with a not inconsiderable intellect. He was red haired and quick-witted, and had a fiery disposition. He had ambitions to both be an artist and a writer, and his gregarious personality and creative impulses had an effect on his sisters, of that Armitage is in no doubt.
“I think he must have been a huge influence on his sisters in their creative writing and creative thinking. He was exciting and interesting, and we can only speculate about the extent to which his escapades fuelled their creativity,” he says.
Others have speculated more closely about Branwell’s involvement in the sisters’ work; indeed there has long been a “Branwellian” movement, since the 1920s at least, which firmly believes he actually wrote Wuthering Heights, if not more of the Brontë books.
It’s a theory that’s roundly dismissed as nonsense these days, and which was satirised in Stella Gibbons’ 1932 novel Cold Comfort Farm, in which the character Mr Mybug is writing a book devoted to the conspiracy theory. Mr Mybug opines, “You see, it’s obvious that it’s his book and not Emily’s. No woman could have written that. It’s male stuff…”
The main argument (apart from, of course, that the whole idea is the sort of sexist claptrap roundly taken down in Joanna Russ’s 1983 book, How To Suppress Women’s Writing) against the whole idea is that while Branwell had very lofty ideas and was certainly not backwards at putting himself forwards, he probably didn’t have the talent and drive to do it.
Branwell had announced early on that he was going to be a poet and a painter. According to Armitage, he couldn’t have set the bar any higher. “He chose poetry and oil painting which were probably the most difficult disciplines to progress in at that time,” he says. [...]
“Really, his talents didn’t take him much beyond his teenage years,” says Armitage. “The lack of progress with his painting must have really frustrated him. His talent had dried up at the point when for most people they were beginning to enjoy artistic accomplishment.
“There’s certainly a picaresque element to his life, which some people seem to find quite exciting. But it’s more poignant and sad, really. If Branwell was being judged by today’s standards then we would certainly say he suffered from mental health problems and addiction issues.”
As part of this year’s Branwell commemorations at the Parsonage, they have recreated his studio, and while it is comprised of non-original items (unlike the other rooms in the museum which feature the exact clothing, furniture and decorations that the Brontës wore and used) it has been painstakingly researched and sourced and is everything you would want the den of the wayward Brontë brother to be. Unmade bed, filthy sheets, books scattered across the floor. [...]
“He was usually the author of his own downfall,” says Armitage. “His jobs always ended in disaster. I’m sure his heart wasn’t in any of them, they were never what he aspired to, but he could never make a success of what he wanted to be. He never produced anything of a high enough quality. He felt a failure.”
What might have made things worse for Branwell was that, as Armitage puts it, “as he was nosediving, his sisters’ stars were rising”. [...]
Most people who beat a path up the cobbled street of Haworth to the Parsonage go in search of the sisters, Charlotte, Anne and Emily. But this year at least they’ll be leaving with more of a sense of who Branwell, the wayward son, actually was.
If he left no other legacy, at least he created the only surviving portrait of our greatest literary dynasty, and though in a fit of pique and frustration he painted himself out of it, he’ll always be there, in the background, the black sheep of the Brontës. (David Barnett)

The Telegraph reports that the Brontë birthplace is for sale again and describes its current status as a lovely café.

Jane Eyre found the small mug of coffee she drank “with relish” at her daily 5pm meal “revived vitality”, while “a basin of coffee” failed to pull Heathcliff out of his crazed restlessness. Yet both Charlotte and Emily Brontë might be surprised to find their childhood home has been turned into a bustling community café.
The circumstances behind the coffee shop – now called Emily’s – have the makings of a 19th-century novel. “We bought it as a repossession three years ago,” says Mark De Luca, a former building surveyor who had left his job due to illness. “The house had been used as a buy-to-let, split up into bedsits. It was owned by a London property developer who had fallen into difficult times.”
Mark, 33, and his wife Michelle, 32, had been looking for a place to open a coffee shop. When they discovered this terraced brick cottage in the heart of Thornton, a village four miles west of Bradford, “the Brontë element was an added bonus,” says Mark.
They bought the house for £120,000 and spent £70,000 fixing it. “We stripped the property back to a shell and redid it: new flooring, damp works, roof repairs, new heating throughout, extensive repairs to the timber sash windows, new bathroom suite and a full internal decoration,” he says. “We created it from nothing, really.”
The De Lucas also had to apply for planning permission, including consent for change of use to part residential and part commercial, because of the building’s protected status. The Grade II* listed building was built in 1802 and was home to the Brontë family between 1815 and 1820.
What now serves as one of the main parts of the café, with seating for 16 on a variety of vintage school chairs and tables next to an original fireplace, is the former dining room where Charlotte, Branwell, Emily and Anne were born. [...]
“We’ve brought the house back to life. It had fallen by the wayside and now it’s got its own heartbeat,” says Mark. “Thornton used to be pushed aside as Haworth’s poorer relative but now it holds as much importance to the Brontë family.”
He was “no Brontë aficionado” before buying the property, and has learnt about the history of the family and their house through a former owner who ran it as a museum from 1997 to 2006, the Brontë museum in Haworth and the busloads of fans who visit the coffee shop each year. [...]
“Patrick said that his happiest days were spent at Thornton and in Haworth he was a stranger in a strange land,” says Mark. “I lost my mother at a young age and my father at a relatively young age. Being from a broken family, I can relate to that.”
It is partly this background that prompted Mark to start a “suspended coffee” programme at Emily’s, whereby customers can cover the cost of an extra coffee so people who might not be able to afford one can come in for a hot drink. “You never know what’s going on in people’s personal lives,” says Mark. “We’re a social community where people come in for a shoulder to cry on or a laugh to be had.”
Now that Mark and Michelle have two children – Mariella, three, and Theodora, one – they are looking to sell the coffee shop. “We’ve got another business in the village, a hair salon that Michelle runs. It’s come to the point where one has to go, and unfortunately you can’t get rid of kids that easily,” he quips.
He is looking for offers in the region of £250,000 for Emily’s, which brings in £49,000 per year from being open four days a week. Included in the lot is the De Luca family home, a two-bedroom residence attached to the coffee shop with a private entrance, full of original Brontë-era features (07966 662832, delucaboutique.co.uk).
Mark and Michelle are currently looking for a new home in the Thornton area, so they’ll be near enough to keep an eye on the café. “I intend to experience Emily’s from a customer perspective now,” says Mark. “I’m excited for the property’s future, but there’s an element of me that’s sad to see it go. I’ve grown very attached to it. I’ll never own a property like that again.” (Lauren Davidson)

The Independent (Ireland) asks broadcaster Sile Seoige about her favourite things.

The book. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë; an absolute classic. I can still quote from it. As a teenager, I was obsessed by it. (Elle Gordon)

The Guardian has lunch with poet Lemn Sissay.

He’s come straight here from a meeting with some TV people at Channel 4, a “beautiful meeting” he says, if such a thing exists. He’s in talks to create a show or a series about orphans and foster children – he reels off a list: “Cinderella, Batman, Heathcliff, Harry Potter, Jane Eyre, Moses.” The idea will involve linking those characters with kids currently in care. “Families are like clever PR companies, protecting their monopoly of the idea of what it feels to be loved,” he says. “But dysfunction is also at the heart of all families. And a child in care is walking proof of that. People fear it might be contagious.” (Tim Adams)

A columnist from Las Provincias (Spain) thinks women shouldn't ask for permission to be or forgiveness for being feminists and quotes from Jane Eyre. Nick Holland has written a little (as it's actually a vast subject) on The Brontës On Film, Television and in Fiction on AnneBrontë.org.