The Power of the North Wind

The bookpacker's guide to Britain: places to visit inspired by classic literature in The Telegraph:

Yorkshire Moors. Wuthering Heights, the fictional manor that gives Emily Brontë's novel its name, is snowbound when the story begins. Thick drifts, pitted with boggy mud, cover the Yorkshire moors around it. Mr Lockwood, the narrator, is trapped in the house shortly after arriving, and a ghostly encounter introduces him to the dark and diabolical history of Heathcliff and Cathy.
The weather could hardly have been more different when I visited the moors myself. It was the day after one of the hottest weekends in British history, when even the “eternal rocks” to which Cathy likens Heathcliff were blazing to the touch. And yet, as I climbed
through the heather and scrub of the Penistone Hill Country Park, just a mile or so from the village of Haworth where the Brontë sisters grew up, I started to feel the “power of the north wind”.
I settled myself into a space between some rocks and opened my heather-purple copy of Wuthering Heights. It was easy to see how Emily and her sisters, growing up down below, caught literally between open hillside and the graveyard outside their front door, developed a taste for the gothic and supernatural.
The moors are silent and empty, with no ghosts of former lovers to be seen, but there’s a rugged beauty too. As I wandered back down to the village, my head full of Heathcliff ’s brutality and Cathy’s optimism, I felt I understood a little of what persuaded Brontë to
carve her classic out of this wild, untamed place. (Jack Bear)

The Booker prize longlisted writers choose their favourite novels in The Sunday Times:

Oyinkan Braithwaite: My Sister, the Serial Killer
“Jane Eyre is a tale that has it all — romance, adventure, tragedy, intrigue, a smidgen of horror — so I was always going to adore it. But Jane was also my first introduction to a female heroine who didn’t fit the mould. She wasn’t beautiful, she wasn’t talented, she wasn’t particularly ambitious. To the untrained mind, there isn’t anything particularly noteworthy about Jane, yet she fired up a love within me unlike anything I felt before or since. Charlotte Brontë created a female character with a quiet, unwavering strength, an intense passion simmering below the surface and a steadfast sense of self-worth, and in doing so gave me a woman I would always be charmed and inspired by.”

The Yorkshire Post talks about the rangers that help maintain beauty at the Yorkshire Dales National Park:

The moon waxing bright... A horse and rider tumbling in an icy lane. Chances were that Jane Eyre would never have met Byronic anti-hero Edward Rochester in such melodramatic circumstances if the Yorkshire Dales National Park Authority (YDNPA) ranger service had been operating in Victorian times. (Tony Greenbank)

PJ Media reviews The Goat by Roger Simon:

The fact that I know hardly anything about tennis was inconsequential. I breezed through the book in a few days and at the end, discovered that I had rediscovered my love for reading. Now, I look forward to losing myself in a good book (currently Wuthering Heights) at the end of a long day of work. For that, I'm immensely grateful to Roger. (Paula Bolyard)

Público (Portugal) initiates a literary family journey:

Entre as Brontë e Elizabeth Gaskell estão os… Beatles.
Na mala levámos Agnes Grey, de Anne Brontë (recentemente editado em Portugal pela Relógio de Água) e também A Abadia de Northanger (da mesma editora), mas esta não era a vez de Jane Austen, que morreu pouco mais de um ano depois de ter nascido a primeira das Brontë, Charlotte. (José J. Mateus) (Translation)

Onirik (France) reviews Nouvelle Eyre by C.E. Elliott:

 Un hommage à Jane Eyre, dans le monde du théâtre, l’idée était vraiment intéressante. C’est le pari que s’est lancé C. E. Elliot (C. E. comme les initiales du vrai nom de l’auteur, et Elliott, comme le pseudonyme qu’utilise Jane lorsqu’elle fuit Edward Rochester). Malheureusement, si le point de départ est original, le roman souffre d’une insuffisance de relecture, quelques coquilles, erreurs de typographie, ou encore longueurs dans le style parasitent le texte.
De plus, on a parfois du mal à comprendre certains choix de l’auteur, qui, par exemple, passe de la première personne (Maëva), à la troisième (narrateur omniscient), à une autre première personne (mais très peu), à savoir le personnage masculin. On aurait préféré une narration unique, pour une lecture plus fluide. Enfin, l’histoire d’amour manque de force, on a le sentiment qu’elle surgit de nulle part, même si l’on devine bien où souhaite en venir l’auteur.
Malgré tout, l’histoire part d’une bonne idée, et même instaure une belle ambiance entre ces Français expatriés, la troupe de théâtre amateur, puis celle plus professionnelle. A découvrir, par curiosité. (Claire) (Translation)