“It’s all desperate.”

The Guardian has a lovely article on Olivia de Havilland by Hannah Partos, who worked as her personal assistant in Paris when Ms de Havilland was in her 90s.

As I’m mostly working around the dusty shelves of the attic, my boss nicknames me Cinderella and Jane Eyre. She is endlessly impressed with the pages I produce, even though it’s hardly the most demanding job: typing out titles, authors, dates of publication, leafing through stacks of National Geographic magazines from the 1970s and old textbooks from her children’s schooldays. De Havilland insists, often, on paying me far more than she owes me for the hours I’ve worked – on one occasion, double the amount. I protest that she’s being too generous.
“I’m getting a message from the Lord,” she explains, in her booming voice, “telling me to pay you more.”
“Well, that’s very generous of him,” I say.
“Oh yes,” she says, “he’s known for that.”

And this is wholly unrelated to anything Brontë, but isn't it delightful?

I remember, once, overhearing a tense telephone conversation and asking her afterwards if everything was all right. “Goodness, no!” she said with a smile. “It’s all desperate.”

More on classic films on VTDigger, which features Neshobe Island in the middle of Lake Bomoseen in Castleton (Vermont), which was 'the summer gathering place for members of the New York Algonquin Round Table and their famed guests'.

The islanders guarded their privacy jealously. When a group of tourists made the mistake of pulling their boat onto the private island for a picnic, they were accosted by one of the inhabitants. It is hard to say what was most frightening about the man, his unintelligible screaming, the axe he carried or his odd attire. He wore a red wig. And nothing else. Unless you count the mud he had smeared across his body.
Though the tourists couldn’t understand his shouts, they got the message, and clambered back into their boats, leaving the island behind. Once they had gone, the naked man found his fellow islanders and told the story that has been repeated in those parts ever since. He was part of a clan of avid storytellers who made the island their home each summer for two decades starting in the 1920s.
His name was Harpo Marx. He and other famous actors, writers and artists adopted the island, Neshobe Island in the middle of Lake Bomoseen in Castleton, as their private refuge. [...]
Club members and guests on the island didn’t just play. Some found the island a source of inspiration. Book manuscripts were completed there, as was part of the screenplay for the movie adaptation of “Wuthering Heights.” Stage actresses walked around the island, rehearsing lines for upcoming productions. (Mark Bushnell)

Pitchfork reviews Taylor Swift's new album Folklore.

One of the loveliest tracks on folklore, the surprise album the singer-songwriter made primarily with the National’s guitarist Aaron Dessner, stands out for a strangely similar reason: a thread connecting two strangers that exists long before either realizes it’s there. “And isn’t it just so pretty to think/All along there was some/Invisible string/Tying you to me,” she sings on the delightfully plucky “invisible string,” simultaneously recalling famous lines from Jane Eyre and The Sun Also Rises. (Jillian Mapes)

TimeOut Melbourne recommends an online class for learning 'the Kate Bush 'Wuthering Heights' dance'.

The Brontë Parsonage Blog has a review by Marina Saegerman of Brontë Places & Poems by Geoff and Christine Taylor. AnneBrontë.org has a post on 'The Real Life Fortune Teller Of Jane Eyre'.