Would you sink your teeth into a piece of cheese made from the Brontës' armpit bacteria?

In The Telegraph Sally Wainwright speaks about her work, past and present.

When she wrote To Walk Invisible, her 2016 drama about the lives of the Brontës, “I had Branwell telling someone to f--- off. And somebody got really up in arms that Branwell had said that 'because it's not in any of the novels'. Duh! They wouldn't have been published if it had been. (Anita Singh)

In The Guardian, Siri Hustvedt does a round of bookish confessions.

The book I wish I’d written. Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights because its narrative form is complex and ingenious, and its story is ruthless and powerful.

Book Riot discusses 'Race, Disability, Ugliness, and Other Villain Tropes We Can Lose'.

Villains have dark skin.
I’m happy to say that the trope of villains having black or brown skin is one that isn’t so prevalent in contemporary literature, but unfortunately it’s one we see a lot in the classics. Many of which we read first in school.  I’m thinking about the “savages” in Robinson Crusoe and Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights. Arguably Othello is a classic in which the hero is dark skinned. I say arguably because (spoiler alert) Othello ultimately becomes the villain his critics wanted him to be. (Enobong Essien)

Smithsonian asks the ultimate fandom question:

Sure, buying one of Jimi Hendrix’s guitars or collecting a lock of Charlotte Brontë’s hair might seem like the ultimate act of fandom. But would you sink your teeth into a piece of cheese made from their armpit bacteria? A new exhibit at the Victoria & Albert Museum asks just that, taking celebrity culture to the next level—literally. As part of an exhibit called Food: Bigger Than the Plate, the museum is showing off five types of cheese made from microbes collected from British celebrities. (Jason Daley)

Belfast Telegraph tells about Jean Rhys and her unlikely jazz contribution.

In January 1979, my late mother Teresa and my father went for lunch with Rhys and the Mellys at their Hampstead home. Nearly 30 years later, my mother, by this point in a care home in north London and approaching death, talked at length during one visit about her memories of meeting Rhys.
She recalled Rhys had a tiny, whispery voice - which would break out into an abrupt, rich laugh - and said the author was pleased to hear that mum's favourite of her novels was After Leaving Mr Mackenzie and not Wide Sargasso Sea.
Wide Sargasso Sea, Rhys's feminist prequel to Jane Eyre, had restored her to public attention after decades of obscurity - winning the WH Smith Literary Award in 1967 - and it remains popular.
It has been adapted for radio by the BBC, inspired a West End play by Polly Teale and has been made into a movie starring Karina Lombard as Antoinette Cosway (known as Bertha Mason in Jane Eyre) - the original mad woman in the attic and Mr Rochester's first wife. Wide Sargasso Sea also inspired an eponymous song by Stevie Nicks.
Linda Grant said she once "scandalised an audience at the British Library by claiming it was a greater novel than Charlotte Brontë's". (Martin Chilton)

In the Financial Times, Simon Schama wonders why aspiring writers are asked to be concise instead of 'wordy'.

In my English classes at school, something odd was happening, or, rather, not happening. Along with Shakespeare and Balzac’s Human Comedy, my father’s cynosure was, unsurprisingly, Dickens. Sunday after tea in the childhood years was Dickens time: readings out loud, either as a family or — more usually — with Dad taking all the parts. Not just the expected items, The Pickwick Papers, Oliver Twist, David Copperfield, Great Expectations, but the tougher reads: Our Mutual Friend, the opening of which scared the daylights out of me even more than Magwitch; Barnaby Rudge and, of course, those Two Cities. But at school, there was no Dickens at all. There was Shakespeare galore; there was Edgar Allan Poe, George Eliot and TS Eliot; Jane Austen, the Brontë sisters, Gerard Manley Hopkins, for Christ’s sake, but no Smike, no Estella, no Jellabys, no Bumbles.

Daily Mail has Sarah Miles tell about her love affair with Sir Laurence Olivier.

She started picturing her future with Olivier aged 11, after being bewitched by his Heathcliff to his second wife, Vivien Leigh’s Cathy, in 1939 film Wuthering Heights. ‘When he cried “Cathy, Cathy!” something happened in my tummy that went “bonk”. It changed from girlhood to womanhood,’ she says. (Jane Fryer)

It looks like Robert Pattinson will be the next on-screen Batman and MovieViral gives him some tips on how to play him.

Batman = The intense, earnest, Monastic focus of a Superman/ Captain America, cloaked in the playboy persona of peak era Tony Stark glib billionaire Playboy. Fused to: 007 + Gatbsy + Sherlock Holmes + Dracula + Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, via Rochester in Jane Eyre + Teddy Roosevelt + ANYTHING YOU WANT TO MAKE IT TO MAKE IT YOUR OWN (James Murphy)

Phoenix New Times lists the 'Best Restaurants in Gilbert's Heritage District' including

The Novelist
335 North Gilbert Road, #103, Gilbert
The Novelist is a restaurant and speakeasy-style bar inside O.H.S.O., reached by following the signs. It’s adjacent to the patio bar and tucked behind a two-story wall of blue-lit kegs. Inside the dark space, spot the mural dedicated to Harry Potter books, and surrounding decor heavily featuring female writers like Mary Shelley and those wacky Brontë sisters. So, yes, there is good food here, but you’ll definitely want to try a Novelist cocktail, or maybe a local beer or glass of wine. This is the perfect setting for it. (Lauren Cusimano)

Why wacky?

La Opinión (Spain) has an article on Hyperemesis Gravidarum and mentions Charlotte Brontë as one of its victims.