You could almost set a clock by what was going on at the parsonage

Vogue has Ann Dinsdale, collections manager of Brontë Parsonage Museum, separate the facts from the fantasy in Frances O'Connor's Emily.

In the movie, there are scenes that depict Charlotte labelling Emily as the weird sister – how accurate is that description of her, really?

To be honest, I think all three sisters were viewed as quite odd, quite eccentric. The fact that they were educated set them apart, and people in the village were quite intrigued by them. I do think Emily in particular didn’t go in for social niceties. In Elizabeth Gaskell’s biography, The Life of Charlotte Brontë, she makes the point that nothing she’s heard about Emily paints a very attractive picture of her. She describes Charlotte and Anne as being shy and Emily as being reserved – making the distinction that shy people would please everyone if they could, whereas reserved people don’t really care about the impression they make on others. I mean, the second you pick up Wuthering Heights, it’s clear you’re reading a novel by someone who’s unconventional in every way. [...]

Beyond the more dramatic elements of their lives, how did the Brontës really live from day to day?

Well, apparently, you could almost set a clock by what was going on at the parsonage. Mrs Brontë’s sister, Elizabeth, who made her home at the parsonage after Maria’s death, instilled a strict sense of order and routine into the lives of the girls. Although they had at least one servant, there would have been a lot of household chores, and the sisters were expected to do their share. That would have taken up a good part of each morning – dusting and ironing and baking. Emily apparently did a lot of the baking, in particular, making all of the family’s bread. She was good at all sorts of domestic work, which obviously plays quite a big part in Wuthering Heights – feeding dogs and making porridge and lighting fires. After lunch, they would walk on the moors, and then in the evening, they would do some needlework. It’s only after their father retired at nine o’clock that they had this nightly ritual of walking around the dining room table and talking about their imaginary worlds and creative projects, reading portions of them aloud. Emily’s writing would have been done then, really, or in snatched moments throughout the day – which, of course, only makes what she produced even more remarkable. (Hayley Maitland)

Publicist Library reviews the film.

O’Connor spins a compelling tale that captures Emily’s dynamic personality as readers have come to perceive it through her famous work, Wuthering Heights, despite the film’s speculative nature (if you want a biographical, then perhaps this isn’t the film for you). [...]

Emma Mackey gives her everything to this part, perfectly conveying Emily’s ferocity and determination. William is Emily’s main ally, and Mackey and Oliver Jackson-Cohen have a strong on-screen connection.

By using gloomy weather and expansive vistas of the moors, Nanu Segal immerses the audience in Emily’s surroundings for an emotional experience. It’s simple to imagine the landscapes that once captured Emily Brontë’s mind when combined with Abel Korzeniowski’s stirring score, which plays a significant part throughout. (Riley Buley)

Cineuropa reviews it too.

For Emily, her filmmaking debut after decades of sturdy acting work (including a brush with prime Hollywood roles at the turn of the millennium), Frances O’Connor has been spurred on by a similar motivation in tackling this biographical drama on the middle Brontë sister’s life. Rather than yet another bonneted and mud-hewn run-through of Wuthering Heights’ key plot points, or rigidly cleaving to the real-life chronology and dates, O’Connor approaches her film in the manner of what, in the publishing world, is called a “critical biography”, aiming to make persuasive observations from the known facts, so we might further understand how Wuthering Heights came screaming into the world. The movie premiered as the opening film of Toronto’s Platform strand and is currently wending its way through an impressive slate of autumn European festivals, the most recent of which being the Sitges Film Festival. It is also now on general release in the UK.

Films that depict the process of writing are notoriously difficult to excel with, yet O’Connor also dodges quite a corny alternative that many filmmakers succumb to, whereby certain life events match up 1:1 with their counterparts in the fictional text (David Fincher’s Mank, an account of the writing of Citizen Kane, was surprisingly reliant on this). Emily Jane (rising Franco-British actress Emma Mackey) is the second-youngest of an unruly brood making their home in a Haworth parsonage, with the Byronic Branwell (Fionn Whitehead) and the studious Charlotte (Alexandra Dowling) her seniors, and Anne (Amelia Gething) the youngest and most unassuming (and given another posthumous oversight here, even as commentators have acclaimed her own literary work as the most feminist of the three sisters’). Emily’s progress, familial relationships and romantic entanglements with the studly new curate Weightman (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) are rendered by O’Connor as the turbulent matter of life that can often only be processed by writing about it, for some therapeutic or cathartic respite. The troubled, opium-addicted Branwell is an especially well-realised figure, putting Emily’s own antisocial struggles in stark relief, and creating a kindred spirit to nurture her (capital-R) Romantic view of the world. Branwell has “Freedom in Thought” tattooed in scrawly black letters on his lower arm, and the two of them bellow these words across the moors in a sequence that avoids the cringing sincerity of these outbursts, from similarly young and free spirits, in other films.

Emily occasionally suffers from a degree of overstatement, and might’ve benefited from a surer editorial and structural hand. And whilst it gladly doesn’t over-emphasise connections between the author’s life and her work, Emily’s invented relationship with Weightman is, accidentally true to his name, given disproportionate weight in the narrative, and we can start to feel O’Connor’s indecision over which character to ascribe Heathcliff-like attributes to (referring to the tragic anti-hero of the novel), as the screenplay struggles to fully nail its crucial third act. Yet O’Connor has created a robust achievement here that stirs passion in its own right, and will find a deserving place in the centuries-long afterlife of Brontë appreciation and scholarship. (David Katz)

Gulf News reports that Emily will be screened as part of the META Film Fest in Dubai (October 27th-29th),

More films as BuzzFeed recommends '34 Excellent Zombie Movies, Ranging From Horrifying To Hilarious' and one of them is

21. I Walked with a Zombie (1943)

I Walked with a Zombie is one of the earliest zombie movies ever made and it doesn't have much in common with the other movies on this list. It follows Betsy (Frances Dee), a nurse hired to look after a Caribbean plantation owner’s wife (Christine Gordon) who has become inexplicably ill. The plot is heavily inspired by Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, but the enduring discussion around the film is actually about its depiction of slavery. The slaves in the movie are somber and mostly silent around the white characters, and when they do speak it's clear how unhappy they are. The zombie trope actually owes its heritage to Haitian slaves, who used the imagery as a metaphor for being imprisoned in their own bodies. I Walked with a Zombie is really one of the few accurate zombie movies in that regard. (Evelina Zaragoza Medina)

Wuthering Heights is one of The State Hornet's picks of the 'Top ten books for fall'.

Wuthering Heights By Emily Brontë

“Wuthering Heights” is a haunting and melancholy classic that takes you on a journey. 

I understand why a lot of people don’t like this book. The characters are unlikable and oftentimes bad people. However, the premise of the book is simple and there is a huge emotional journey that both the reader and the characters go through. 

The writing is provoking and dark, but reading “Wuthering Heights” is like experiencing a dark tunnel. No matter how dark the tunnel is, there is always light at the end of it.

In the end, this gothic novel is perfect for a cozy autumn night. (Hailey Valdivia)

Sol (Portugal) also features the novel.

Smithsonian magazine shares an excerpt from Devoney Looser's Sister Novelists: The Trailblazing Porter Sisters, Who Paved the Way for Austen and the Brontës on the early 19th century writers Jane and Anna Maria Porter.

If one were to pinpoint the precise moment the Porter sisters experienced the pinnacle of literary fame, it would likely be the year 1814. By then, Jane and Anna Maria Porter were in their late 30s and living together outside London. They’d published 17 books, including several international bestsellers, and gained reputations as two very different paragons of feminine talent. Jane’s looks and personality proved a tall, dark and serious contrast to Maria’s, as light, bright and sparkling. With no more than a charity-school education, the sisters had grown up nurturing each other’s ambitions, editing each other’s writing and turning themselves into household names.

The Misses Porter (as they were sometimes called) arguably created the modern historical novel, weaving fascinating, romantic tales out of facts and events culled from history books. The sisters were certainly the first to achieve critical acclaim and bestseller status with such novels, starting with Jane’s Thaddeus of Warsaw (1803), Maria’s The Hungarian Brothers (1807) and Jane’s The Scottish Chiefs (1810). Their protagonists—a mix of historical figures and invented characters—participated in bloody conflicts on past battlefields, then faced domestic hardships at home and abroad. Both sisters used compelling flourishes, and an undercurrent of clear moralism, to bring history’s heroes and despots to life. [...]

The Porter sisters’ careers ended just as the Brontë sisters were getting started in the early Victorian period. And over the next century, as the Brontës became literary history’s most visible sisters, the Porters were gradually—and then almost entirely—forgotten.

According to a contributor to Autostraddle, 'A Queer Woman’s Place Is in the Horror Story.

Domestic horror, the way I’m thinking about it, has a broader definition than simply “horror of the home and family.” It’s about unsettled mundanity: everyday, routine events in a world marked by patriarchy and heteronormativity that are laced with a building unease that gives way to ultimate creepiness. We’re talking “The Yellow Wallpaper” and Jane Eyre. (We’re not actually talking about those works today, but both are also very queer. I’m certainly not the first person to say so, but I will talk to you about it at length if you let me.) (Daven McQueen)

Los Angeles Review of Books interviews Susan Gillman about her new book American Mediterraneans: A Study in Geography, History, and Race. 

One of the most tantalizing sections is your discussion of José Martí’s transcultural adaptation of Jackson’s Ramona, in which he labels the title character an “arrogant mestiza” and affirms that “Ramona est una otra Cabaña” [“Ramona is another Uncle Tom’s Cabin”]. Can you elaborate/speculate further on why this novel was so appealing to Martí? Is his translation work analogous to what Jean Rhys does with the character and plot trajectory of Bertha Mason from Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre?

Well, Martí’s Ramona is an actual translation, whereas Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea (1966) is an adaptation, a prequel to Brontë’s novel, almost in the radical experimental way that Caryl Phillips imagines Rhys’s biography in A View of the Empire at Sunset (2018). The best clues as to “why Ramona?” are two instances of the translator’s prerogative to adapt the original, in the preface, where Martí mentions “la mestiza arrogante,” and in the subtitle, Novela americana. He turned both the character and the novel into “ours,” part of what a little later would become his signature “Nuestra América.” Here we could say Martí’s 1888 Ramona is akin to Roberto Fernández Retamar’s 1989 Calibanism. Retamar, tracing the derivation in The Tempest of the name Caliban as “Shakespeare’s anagram for ‘cannibal’ […] that comes in turn from the word carib.” This term itself refers to the Carib Indians, whose “name lives on in the name Caribbean Sea,” concludes with a wry parenthetical on the Caribbean, “referred to genially by some as the American Mediterranean, just as if we were to call the Mediterranean the Caribbean of Europe.” So, both Martí and Retamar produce their own “as ifs,” their otras, Cabaña and Caliban. (Cherene Sherrard-Johnson)

 The best literary ghost stories according to The Times:

I grew up thinking Wuthering Heights was a gooey love story: blame the warbling of Kate Bush’s chart-topping single and nice guy Cliff Richard’s Heathcliff: The Musical (“Pleasingly choreographed blandness” — The Independent). But Emily Brontë’s only novel is a tale not of love but of tortured passion — the sort that burns beyond the grave. It tells of two Yorkshire families, the Earnshaws and the Lintons, whose lives are overturned by the presence of the brooding, half-savage Heathcliff. (You see why Cliff wasn’t quite the fit.) It opens with the narrator dreaming he is visited by the ghost of Catherine Earnshaw, who also haunts her former lover Heathcliff. And it all gets messier from there. (John Self)

That Shelf reviews House of the Dragon Episode 1.09: The Great Council.

The Western literary tradition of the novel, as embodied by works such as Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary and Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre, often rests upon three elements. The character arcs are clearly defined by the end of the their respective journeys. The foreshadowing in acts one and two pays off in act three. And the ending must be definitive. These elements can, and often do, come together to deliver a satisfying approach to a story. But this approach isn’t always satisfying or the right approach to begin with and this is explored brilliant through the brilliance of House of the Dragon’s Alicent Hightower (Olivia Cooke). (Akash Singh)

The Age (Australia) reviews Up Late With Kate, a show that celebrates Kate Bush, at The Parlour

[Benn] Bennett encourages attendees to dress up, adding there will be costume changes by the artists on stage, which he describes as Kate-inspired: just don’t expect the red dress a la Wuthering Heights flash mobs. (Kerrie O'Brien)

Finally, Secret Manchester recommends '13 Awesome Exhibitions In Manchester That You Have To Visit This Autumn' and one of them is

9. The Brontë Room at Elizabeth Gaskell’s House

Elizabeth Gaskell’s House in Manchester has opened a new room to add to their permanent exhibitions that will explore Elizabeth’s role in Victorian society in a way that has never previously been done. As well as being an acclaimed author, Elizabeth Gaskell was a radical changemaker of her time and one connected with other notable female reformers like Florence Nightingale, George Eliot, Christabel Pankhurst and Beatrix Potter.

The exhibition in the new Brontë Room will explore how Elizabeth and her daughters played a role within the foundations of the trade union movement, supported soup kitchens and had a strongly philanthropic outlook. A newly commissioned film, exploring the relationship between Charlotte Brontë and Elizabeth Gaskell, and an interactive dressing up area are all part of the exhibition space, which fills the Brontë Room. Permanent. Tickets from £6.50. (Alice Lorenzato-Lloyd)