Wuthering Heights karaoke

LitHub discusses TB as seen in the 19th century, even if it claims that Charlotte died of it, when it's fairly accurate to say that she may have died from hyperemesis gravidarum.

Historian Roy Porter noted of the period up to 1850: “Bright young things, seeking public attention, positively sought to look tubercular, as if delicacy and a tenuous grasp on life made them all the more appealing.” Some of this craze was brought on by the Romantic association. There was a pervasive belief that the illness was more common if one had the tender and sensitive constitution of the artist. Given the number of literary titans killed by it, it’s an understandable assumption: John Keats, the poster child of youthful artists with lives stolen, was joined by Anton Chekhov, Honoré de Balzac, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and most of the Brontë family, including Emily and Charlotte. [...]
Both the literature and fashion responded to this apparent link between women and the disease. A host of female consumptives and waifish women appeared in novels, from Charles Dickens’ Dombey and Son (1848) to Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South (1854). In Bram Dijkstra’s contemporary book Idols of Perversity, he refers to a “cult of invalidism” around women of the 19th century, and even Charlotte Brontë seems to have agreed. In 1849, Brontë wrote: “Consumption, I am aware, is a flattering malady.” (Christina Newland)

New Statesman tackles the controversy surrounding the latest edition of Sylvia Plath's letters: Letters of Sylvia Plath, Volume 1 (1940-1956), apparently criticised for showing her on the cover smiling and in a bikini.

We seem fixated on putting them into easily identifiable boxes: Blonde Bimbo, Angry Feminist, Downtrodden Mother, Suicidal Writer. Just a quick glance at the reaction to recent literary television adaptations is testament to this. Sally Wainwright’s series about the Bronte sisters, To Walk Invisible, was criticised because the women were thought to be swearing too much; and the BBC’s drama about Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Circle, Life in Squares, was accused of featuring too much sex. (Rebecca Rideal)

Here's how Write to Done describes Wuthering Heights:

Why do we still love Cathy and Heathcliff, although Wuthering Heights is so bizarrely organized and consists almost entirely of a laundry list of inhuman behavior?
Because [...] Cathy and Heathcliff are the unforgettable characters from which their plots grow. (Victoria Mixon)

According to The Brag, Celine Dion's song My Heart Will Go On is a 'goddamn masterpiece'.

Sonically this song really hits you in the windpipe with the drama – from the peaceful foreboding flutes in the intro (which I thought were panpipes for the longest time) to the crashing key changes, and the Brontë-level torture of the long-lost love: “Every night in my dreams”, Celine opens. “I see you, I feel you.” It’s a lot. (Nathan Jolly)

More on music as The Malta Independent features a recent art installation:

Off the back of that, Annemarie got in touch with a local arts group called Blighty which runs events through a sister company called Immersive Music which 'brings iconic albums to life' (as Secret Cinema does for films). They commissioned Annemarie to craft a standalone interactive piece, as part of their event based on the life and music of Kate Bush.
"The space was an innovative take on a regular karaoke booth for the song "Wuthering Heights'", she says, "To suit Kate's lyrics, visitors became the ghost of Cathy, looking in at Heathcliff's window. It featured a ghostly ambience, spooky hologram lyrics (a mini Pepper's Ghost stage effect) and the scents of wood and pine."
An exciting yet challenging project - the booth was conceived, built and installed in three days and was met with rave reviews. (Coryse Borg)

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reviews the play Boy by Anna Ziegler.

Although Dr. Barnes advises the parents to avoid subjecting the child to any of the usual “boy stuff,” Sam gradually begins to exhibit “classic tomboy” tendencies nonetheless. He has Sam read “Jane Eyre,” hoping to encourage a certain identification with the heroine of the novel. And later, after Sam sees the movie “Star Wars,” Barnes tries to discourage the kid from relating quite so strongly with Luke Skywalker. (Bert Osborne)