The spooky bit at the start of Wuthering Heights

The Sunday Times interviews the actress Joanna Scanlan:

Jake Helm: First book I loved

J.S.: My head was never out of a book, whether that meant walking along with them or getting them wet in the bath. My mother would tell us the story of the spooky bit at the start of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights. It’s chapter three, where Mr Lockwood ends up staying overnight at Wuthering Heights and Cathy comes knocking at the window. It was made famous later by Kate Bush.

Nerd Daily and the rise of modern gothic horror:

When you think of gothic horror, you probably immediately think of creepy graveyards, women in Victorian dresses fleeing in the night and foreboding castles on misty hills. In reality, there is no one defining feature of gothic literature. However, the most common gothic themes include an oppressive, isolated environment (think of the eponymous The Castle of Otranto or Wuthering Heights), supernatural threats, disturbing, and grotesque characters or situations and the past returning to haunt the present. These are often representations of social conflicts or the fears of the time. Present in all gothic horror is an overwhelming sense of dread and paranoia that isn’t just limited to the pages of the book, but also reflects a social paranoia. (Sophie Haslam)

The Hindu (India) talks about the yarn, not the software but the fibre:

The yarn, however, is more than a thread. In a wonderful essay, Walter Benjamin argues that the ancient art of storytelling is lost in the modern times “because there is no more weaving and spinning to go on while stories are being listened to”. Did not Nelly Dean, the main narrator of Emily Brontë’s classic 1847 novel Wuthering Heights, recount the haunting story of Catherine and Heathcliff while working on her knitting? (Siddarth Pandey)

The Tribune (India) discusses the life and work of the painter Edmund Dulac:

Dulac’s range was remarkably wide. He did not begin with painting fairy tales. When in England, the first work which he illustrated — which incidentally shot him to fame almost instantly — was that perennial classic ‘Jane Eyre’. Very quickly, he became a leading name in the book arts, producing illustrations for the Brontë sisters and popular magazines. Annual exhibitions of his drawings and paintings were held at the Leicester Galleries, London, which led to both the European and American art world being drawn to him and his prodigious talent. One of the critics described his work as “rich with poetry and imagination, and strong in the possession of that decorative element which renders a picture universally pleasing”. In their essence, Dulac’s themes ‘tended towards the fantastical’, and he was as drawn to the ‘Arabian Nights’ and the ‘Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam’, as to the Brontës. 

The Duluth News Tribune reviews a local production of the play The Boys Room by Joel Drake Johnson: 

Nobody uses profanity like [Jody] Kujawa. We are not talking about the lofty elegance of Samuel L. Jackson when he goes on an obscenity-laced tirade, we are talking about repetitive slap-in-the-face profanity. Which makes it delightfully surprising when Tim turns out to be the heart of the show, especially when he waxes eloquently about reading “Jane Eyre” so he can have an intellectual discussion with his daughter. (Lawrance Bernabo)

We Got This Covered talks about the cancellation of  the TV series Vampire Academy:

For the uninitiated, Vampire Academy was about two young women from different social classes who need to finish vampire school to enter vampire high society. It’s basically a mashup of a Jane Eyre novel and Twilight – based on novels by Richelle Mead. The short-lived show comes courtesy of showrunners Julie Plec and Marguerite MacIntyre. (Jon Silman)

The Telegraph & Argus delves into its archive and finds a photograph from 1969: 

The T&A ran the photo in a 1969 article about tourism in Haworth: ‘Two groups, the Brontë Society and the KWVR, have a special interest in Haworth. The Brontë Society organises the Parsonage Museum and attempts to keep the character of the Brontës as far as possible. (Emma Clayton)

Newtral (Spain) makes a fact-check (well, kind of... it's difficult to take seriously a fact-checking website that doesn't fact-check the name of their subject: Brönte) of the film Emily;

Mucho de la historia real de Emily Brönte (sic) salpica los acontecimientos de la película, como la relación con su familia o su pasión por la literatura, pero otros aspectos, como su amor por William Weightman o que su novela llevó su nombre desde el principio, no son certeros. (...)

Tras el desengaño amoroso que sufre en la película y del que no hay pruebas en su historia real, Emily decide dejar de escribir. No obstante, en el filme la muerte del hombre que amaba, William Weigthman, sirve de impulso para que retome las letras. Muchas noches en vela después, Emily presenta su novela, Cumbres borrascosas, a sus hermanas, Charlotte y Anne, que no dudan en animarla a que la publique.

Es aquí donde la línea entre el filme y la realidad se bifurcan. Mientras que en la película los tres tomos que componen la historia de Emily llevan su nombre, tanto en el lomo como en las primeras páginas del libro, en la realidad las tres hermanas Brönte (sic) publicaron sus historias bajo seudónimos. Y no cualquiera, sino seudónimos masculinos para evitar los juicios de la sociedad inglesa del siglo XIX. (Andrea Real) (Translation)

Some reviews of the film:

Transgresora e inquietante, O´Connor, se desliza aquí por un tobogán anímico. De ahí que, bajo el disfraz del siglo XIX, aflore un filme radicalmente actual. Tan pronto se sumerge en lo siniestro como se recrea en la exaltación del folletín. Como las Brontë eran varias hermanas, a veces parece que se nos cuenta una versión de “Mujercitas” pero, no se equivoquen, aquí habitan los monstruos de la insatisfacción humana, el dolor de la existencia y la maldición de la muerte. Esos fantasmas que retrataban tanto Francisco de Goya como Buñuel. (Juan Zapater in Noticias de Navarra) (Translation)

Emily attempts to free itself from the constraints and pomp of the English historical drama, I assume to better capture the affections of younger audiences. Corsets come undone and gowns are muddied in the moors, but this film is bereft of any visual style of its own. Even a scene of mystical evocation – a game of charades that descends into Emily’s body being a conduit for her dead mother – feels cribbed from the most forgettable of horror films. (...)
The film shares the problem of most adaptations of Wuthering Heights – an emphasis on melodramatic love, which usually correlates to a focus on the first half of the story and omitting the latter half, that fails to take us anywhere as perverse as the novel. This is one of the reasons why the story seems to be largely stuck in the annals of dour BBC television and staid British cinema – the one exception perhaps being Andrea Arnold’s grimy 2011 adaption.
There have been stranger attempts on screen that have better captured the feral dreaminess of the novel. Luis Buñuel – who like his fellow surrealists adored Brontë for her exemplary displays of the unconscious and l’amour fou (mad love) – swapped the Yorkshire moors for the Mexican desert in his somewhat necrophilic Abismos de pasión (1954). In Jacques Rivette’s Hurlevent (1985), Catherine and Heathcliff run amok through the rocky formations of southern France in the 1930s. On the loose biographical front, there is André Téchiné’s austere portrait of the Brontë family, Les Soeurs Brontës, which features Isabelle Adjani, Isabelle Huppert and a rare cameo by Roland Barthes. This movie is a slog, full of unrepentant gloom, but there is – thankfully – no attempt to neatly tie these sisters’ lives to their books.
While Emily weaves in a couple of the author’s poems, it repeats the sins of many films about writers: it can only imagine the act of writing in the most literal and simplistic terms. Near the end of the film, after heartbreak and grief, Brontë sits at the desk in her room and stares into the damp countryside. Almost immediately, sentences stream out. The scene commits to the fantasy of a writer as an endless wellspring of language, but thinking and writing do not so easily translate to visual pleasure or exciting cinema.
With its fabulist tedium, Emily is consumed with filling in the blanks, but a more interesting film could have been forged by sitting with absences. Emily Brontë’s life was textured by lack and limitation. Faced with the void, her imagination swelled. (Isabella Trimboli in The Saturday Paper)

'Emily' exulta en un trabajo de montaje realmente fantástico y bien ritmado firmado por Sam Snade, responsable del no menos fabuloso y contemporáneo de 'La favorita'.
No se sabe mucho sobre Emily Brönte (sic) así que Frances se lanza en picado a leer los posos de la turbulenta y feroz 'Cumbres borrascosas' y extrae el aroma para retratar, sin preocupaciones historiográficas, a una de las inmortales habitantes de los hermosos y terribles páramos de Yorkshire; tierra baldía, pero fértil para crear y morir. (Begoña Del Teso in El Correo Vasco) (Translation)

The film is also recommended by Ruetir, Áreajugones (Spain), Chilango (Mexico), Tiempo Libre Quéretaro (Mexico), Sensacine (Mexico), La Razón (Mexico), Qué ver (Mexico), MTPNoticias (Mexico), Valladolid Plural (Spain), Noroeste (Mexico), Informador (Mexico)...

Rolling Stone (Germany) interviews the film director and writer C. Craig Zahler

Sassan Niasseri: Kommt auch ein neuer Roman?
S.C.Z.: Ich habe meinen neuesten beendet, einen Fantasy-Roman, im Bereich der High Fantasy. Zwar ohne Könige und Drachen, aber eben High Fantasy, also angesiedelt nicht in unserer, sondern einer fremden Welt. Für Leser der Brontë-Schwestern. Aber ich glaube, es kommen nicht mal Pferde darin vor. (Translation)

ctxt (Spain) on clouds:

Estos “estratos”, ya se ve, nada tienen de nupcial o de festivo: son esas “nubes oscuras que nos impiden ver”, de la famosa canción revolucionaria A las barricadas, o esas sombrías y románticas “cumbres borrascosas” de Emily Brontë.  (Satnaiago Alba Rico) (Translation)

Milenio (México) quotes Anne Carson's poem Glass, irony, and God: 

“¿Cómo llegó Emily a perder su fe en los humanos?”, se pregunta Carson al contemplar la casi total ausencia de contacto humano que marcó la vida de Brontë, y se define tentada a leer Cumbres borrascosas como un acto de venganza “por todo lo que la vida le negó a Emily”, como si el enojo pudiera ser en su caso una especie de vocación. Y posteriormente, como si al tiempo que escribe acerca de Brontë y elucida al respecto su propia alma fuera transformándose ante los ojos de los lectores mediante el acto de escribir poesía, concluye:

De pronto pude estirarme y jalar de vuelta la cobija hasta mi barbilla.

La vocación de la ira no es mía.

Yo conozco su origen. (Eduardo Rabasa) (Translation)

infoLibre reviews the latest book by Pilar Adón, De Bestias y Aves:

 Para sus lectores, resulta evidente que Pilar Adón es dueña de  un mundo cultural propio, por lo que en sus libros no suelen faltar las referencias culturales y literarias, en este caso a Cumbres borrascosas (página 92)[.] (Fernando Valls) (Translation)

Mauxa (Italy) interviews the writer John Connolly:

 Le tue letture preferite, quali sono?

Per quanto riguarda i libri di altri, caspita, ce ne sono così tanti: Casa desolata di Charles Dickens, Cime tempestose di Emily Brontë, I tre moschettieri di Dumas, le storie di Jeeves & Wooster di P.G. Wodehouse. (Translation) 

Soy Carmín (in Spanish) and DiLei (Italy) list quotes on vanity and 'the heart', including quotes by Wutthering Heights. The novel is recommended in Uncómo (Spain). Finally, several Swiss news outlets report the death of the theatre actress Lise Ramu, who was Cathy in a Les Hauts de Hurlevent production in 1952.