~Rochelle
Wed, Aug 27, 1997 (02:30)
seed
This has intrigued me for some time. While there is general agreement that Emily
met her end stoically - we know this from Charlotte - there also seems to be an
idea that she "willed" her death. It has been suggested her condition was exacerbated
by anorexia, that she died of sorrow following Branwell's death, that she had burned
out her creativity with WH, that WH was in fact one long suicide note. Her refusal to
to see a doctor until the very end has been pointed to as evidence that she wanted to
die.
While Charlotte in her biographical notice said of her death that "Never in her
life had she lingered over any task that lay before her, and she did not linger now",
I can't help but think of her letters in which she said Emily was "TORN" from existance.
As to refusing to acknowledge her mortal illness, I go with Stevie Davies' take on
it: "Far from making a Wertherean escape from the sufferings of her existance, Emily Bronte
plainly wanted to get on with her life with interference. Death came barging in
uninvited and unwelcomed, just like any other stranger: `I put it on the landing of the
stairs, hoping it might be gone on the morrow' (WH).
I'd be very interested in hearing about how others view her death.
~amy2
Wed, Aug 27, 1997 (10:32)
#1
My feeling is this, Elena - I do NOT think that Emily willed her own death. In fact, on the afternoon before she died, she said: "�If you will send for a Doctor, I will see him now.� Charlotte also says: �I cannot forget Emily's death day. It becomes a more fixed, a darker, a more frequently recurring idea in my mind than ever. It was very terrible -- she was torn conscious, panting, reluctant, though resolute, out of a happy life.� Reports are that she struggled until the end. As far as refusing t
eatment -- I think she was simply SMART. The ridiculous remedies for T.B. in those days only made Anne weaker through nausea, & she tried them all. It's hard to envision someone with that will of iron succumbing to despair & basically commiting suicide. If Emily didn't have T.B., I'm sure she would have been happy to live on many years & continue her writing.
~LorieS
Wed, Aug 27, 1997 (14:47)
#2
Wow, an interesting idea either way. If Emily had been about to lose her moors and the life she loved at home, I'd believe that she "willed" her death. But there wasn't anything like that occuring, was there?
TB is still such a dangerous, easily communicable disease. The wonder is that Charlotte escaped.
~amy2
Wed, Aug 27, 1997 (18:04)
#3
T.B. was so insidious at that time, not to mention cholera!! It really was amazing that Charlotte escaped, since there was so much contagion in the house, & she and Anne actually shared the same bed before Anne got really sick.
True, Emily always sickened when she was away from home, but it seemed she had happily found her place @ Haworth in 1848-9. She knew she wouldn't have to work as a teacher again, since she was a published author.
I've bee meaing to ask you a question too: What kind of person do you think that Emily was? I've been reading all these bios, but none of them really offer a clue. She remains such an enigma: was she really someone who liked animals better than people; who had mystic visions on the moors; who was rude & unsociable, or are we only hearing a part of the story? I just can't get a handle on her. Thanks!
~Rochelle
Wed, Aug 27, 1997 (19:13)
#4
I've been trying to figure out Emily for years, and I hardly think I'm closer now now
than when I started. The half-dozen biographies I have, and the others I have read,
agree on a few basic points but that's all. Her personal reserve and the lack of
factual detail make it difficult in the extreme - Charlotte's letters, particularly while
Emily was dying, indicate that she was still trying to understand her sister.
Gaskell was unable to form a pleasant impression of her, although she concedes Charlotte
would hardly have loved her as she did if she were truely unpleasant. I think she was proud,
independant and rather misanthropic - refusing to teach Sunday school, learning to shoot,
prefering animals to people (I've always loved that remark she made to her students that the
house dog was dearer to her than them). What I'd really like to know is how engaged she was with
the political and social issues of her day. I'd like to know just how far her transcendentalism
took her - it has been suggested (I can't remember if it was Winifred Gerin or Katherine Frank,
I think it might have been Frank) that she experienced states that almost sound like out of
body experiences. She certainly saw things differently to her contempories. She
also has been closely identified with her creation - almost as if "Nelly, I am
Heathcliff" is her own declaration as well as Cathy's. This is all rather poorly
expressed, but I can only offer this image: in the beautifully illustrated Folio
Books edition of the Bronte works, there is a haunting frontspiece to WH. The
illustrator took the profile portrait of Emily and reproduced it faithfully as an etching, even
down to the cracks in Branwell's poorly mixed paint. But she is raising her left hand,
obscuring her face and shutting out the viewer. It is a very resonant image.
~amy2
Wed, Aug 27, 1997 (20:04)
#5
Thank you for your insight. I hadn't heard about the learning to shoot part before now! I've read that Emily valued an earthly type of Paradise over Heaven itself, & eschewed conventional religion -- do you agree? I also know that she was almost universally disliked in Brussels, except by Charlotte & a single younger girl. Do you also think she was really that sympathetic to Branwell? That she would go & retrieve him from the Black Bull after a bender? That last one sounds kind of 'mythlike' to me.
hanks for joining this Board -- it's great to have an Emily expert here!!
~Rochelle
Thu, Aug 28, 1997 (00:42)
#6
It was her father who taught her how to shoot. So much for the stern authoritarian
figure he is often held to be! This is a fairly gut level reaction, but I believe that
Emily's Heaven would have looked very much like the earth she loved. I can imagine her
as Cathy, dreaming she was hurled out of Heaven by the angry angels and weeping for joy
that she had been returned to earth. I think Charlotte was right, and she was VERY reluctant to
leave this world. On the other hand, she already half inhabited a world of spirit anyway. These
lines are from Gondal, but they seem embody how she saw the imaginative process:
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me
And offers, for short life, eternal liberty.
He comes with western winds, with evening's wandering airs,
With that clear dusk of heaven that brings the thickest stars;
Winds take a pensive tone, and stars a tender fire
And visions rise and change which kill me with desire
......
But first a hush of peace, a soundless calm decends;
The struggle of distress and fierce impatinence ends;
Mute music soothes my breast - unuttered harmony
That I could never dream till earth was lost to me.
Then dawns the Invisible, the Unseen its truth reveals;
My outward sense is gone, my inward essence feels -
Its wings are almost free, its home its harbour found;
Measuring the gulf it stoops and dares the final bound!
This is getting a bit lengthy, but I'll just say something quickly on the Branwell stories.
Emily's only recorded comment on Branwell's dissolution is that he was a "hopeless being".
There is no supportive evidence for the stories that she was the one who dragged him home from
the Black Bull, put out the fires he started accidently by leaving candles lit, or snuck out to
leave a light burning to guide him home after all the other household lights had been extinguished.
These are old Haworth gossip, but they do make sense. Someone had to do it while Mr Bronte was ailing,
and Emily was the tallest and strongest of his daughters. She was - and this is often forgotten -
extremely practical. She ran the house after Aunt Branwell died, and wasn't nicknamed "the Major" for
nothing. These stories are often cited as proof of a special bond between her and Branwell, but as
Chitham points out, if she was lugging him home from the Black Bull in a drunken stupor, he probably
wasn't in any condition for profound philisophical discussion.
Thanks for having me on the board - and you can imagine how flattered I am to be called an Emily Expert!
~amy2
Thu, Aug 28, 1997 (10:30)
#7
Thanks for your expertise once again! I tend to agree with you - I don't think Emily viewd Branwell with especial pity -- she may not have been as vehement as Charlotte, who had lost her youthful collaborator & was very angry. Charlotte nicknamed Emily "the Major" after she tried to prevent William Weightman from paying too much attention to Ellen Nussey -- is that great? I wish we knew more about it -- she seems like such a singular person. Maybe I will be able to get more of a clue when I visit Hawo
th next month.
~Rochelle
Sun, Sep 14, 1997 (22:53)
#8
I think visiting Haworth will give you as much of an insight into Emily as any
biography could - that's why I'd love to visit there! There is so much condensed
into that line of Charlotte's - "My sister Emily loved the moors". I don't know
if she would have emerged as that strangely strong spirited figure if she had
lived under different conditions. Charlotte, Shirley, tries to suggest what she
might have been like as a comfortable, independent heiress. I think Emily would
have been Emily in any time, place or social condition. Conversely, it is hard
to disassociate her from Haworth.
~amy2
Mon, Sep 15, 1997 (10:41)
#9
I agree. I think she would have been a complete iconoclast even if she were living in the middle of the London social swirl. She was just one of those indomitable personalities who stood apart from everyone else, like Joan of Arc. I sense from Charlotte that she loved & respected her sister, but also feared her to a certain degree. E. just wouldn't bend to her older sister's will!
~Rochelle
Thu, Sep 18, 1997 (19:25)
#10
Reading between the lines of Charlotte's letters, Biographical Notice of Ellis
and Acton Bell and her 1850 Preface, it is fascinating to discern hints of the
artistic disagreements the three sisters had. I particularly like the Preface's
comment "Had she but lived, her mind would of itself have grown like a strong tree;
loftier, straighter, wider-spreading, and its matured fruits would have attained
a mellower ripeness and sunnier bloom; but on that mind time and experience alone
could work: to the influence of other intellects, it was not amenable". As Stevie
Davies points out, Charlotte doesn't point out what species this Emily-tree was
to be. Thorn? Bitter-elder? What Charlotte means, of course, is that Emily was
not amenable to her influence. She seems to have been quite happy to absorb what
she could from Shelly, Scott and the German Romantics.
Nonetheless, awe and love breathe through Charlotte's words about her sister, just
as affection does with Anne. I think she may have done a greater disservice to
Anne, because she rated her powers much lower than Emily's. Charlotte also came
to believe that Anne seemed to have always been prepared for an early death, and
that she died almost happily. She actually died resolutely because she had no
alternative. Her poem upon learning her illness was mortal is heartbreaking - and
Charlotte altered it before publication so as to make Anne seem more resigned
than she was. And only weeks before her death, Anne still expressed a desire to
live because she had some modest plans she wished to guide to fruition.
~amy2
Fri, Sep 19, 1997 (10:34)
#11
Yes, Anne presented such a brave face to the world at the end, but she certainly didn't welcome the prospect of dying -- she was terrified of it, really. I think she's terribly underrated as a writer -- AGNES GREY & WILDFELL HALL are just amazing creations -- if there weren't two other towering geniuses in the family, she might have been put on a similar footing with Jane Austen, since she shares JA's dry, ironic sense of humor & power of observation. I think it annoyed Charlotte that Emily wouldn't lis
en to her opinions; but as you say, she was "the dearest thing to her" in the world.
~LorieS
Thu, Oct 2, 1997 (13:06)
#12
Just a question about the poem you mention above -- what is the title? Are there any books of Anne's poetry out there? Thanks.
~Rochelle
Tue, Oct 7, 1997 (21:41)
#13
Lorie, sorry it took a couple of days to get back to you.
I'm not sure of the title of the poem, or even if it has one (many of the Bronte
works went untitled). It was written in response to what was effectively her
death sentance, delivered by Dr Teale, when she was diagnosed with "consumption" -
tuberculosis. It's fairly lengthy, but the first verse runs:
A dreadful darkness closes in
On my bewildered mind
O let me suffer & not sin
Be tortured yet resigned.
A fairly good indication of the state of her mind at the time! Charlotte ommitted
the following stanza when she edited Emily and Anne's poems in 1850:
O Thou hast taken my delight
And hope of life away
And bid me watch the painful night
And wait the weary day
replacing it with
Thou, God, hast taken our delight
Our treasured hope away.
Thou bidst us now weep through the night
And sorrow through the day.
This substituted verse is reflective of Charlotte's thoughts, not Anne's. It also
makes no sense in the context, unless Charlotte has intended it to look as if
Anne is thinking of Emily.
There are a few volumes of the Brontes work that include poems by Anne. I have an
"Everyman" edition, edited by Juliet Barker, that was published a few years ago.
This includes other poetry in addition to that published in the Brontes' lifetime
as the "Bells", and also verse by Branwell. Wordsworth also put out a volume of
Bronte poetry, and I imagine Penguin has as well. They've issued Charlotte's juvenalia
in a volume with Jane Austen's early works, and their "Complete Poems of Emily
Bronte" is the best of several volumes around.
Anne's poetry has been published in the past with an emphasis on her religious works,
a trend started by Charlotte. She also, however, wrote upon other subjects, and
made a valuble contribution to the "Gondal" cycle with Emily. Her poetry is
interesting to read as a companion to Emily's works - they seem to have sometimes
selected the same subject as a sort of an exercise.
~amy2
Sat, Oct 11, 1997 (22:24)
#14
The poem is "Self Confession." It's very long -- Anne composed it over a period of time. And Rochelle, I just read the Katherine Frank bio of Emily, UNCHAINED SOUL, which seems to posit that Emily -did- will her own death, possibly because of anorexia? An interesting theory, but I'm not quite sure that I buy it.
~Rochelle
Sun, Oct 12, 1997 (20:27)
#15
I wasn't remarkably taken by the Frank bio. As you say, interesting theory. However,
anorexia has become a fashionable theory among biographers, and I don't believe
Frank produced anything substantive to support the idea. It is true that the man
who made Emily's coffin commented that it was the narrowest he had ever made, but she
was quite lightly built, and the severity of her final illness would account for
that. For what it's worth, the best straightforward bio of Emily is Edward Chitham's.
Stevie Davis is even better (she had access to Chitham's material and discussed
a lot of Bronte theories with him), but her work is not a straight bio.
Glad you had the title to Anne's poem. I seem to have temporarily misplaced my
Bronte poetry books. They're not on the Bronte bookshelf where they live! Good
thing I've got a couple of copies of Emily's poems.
~amy2
Mon, Oct 13, 1997 (19:54)
#16
"Self Confession" is the one where Anne kind of refutes Emily. I do have the other Emily bios & I'm going to read them! I wasn't to convinced by Frank either -- it seems very modern & far-fetched, frankly. Of course the Brontes dealt with food in their work, esp. JE -- I mean, Charlotte said she was perpetually hungry at Cowan Bridge, & she was unable to eat meat for years after, because of the disgusting, rancid cooking. But I don't think that means she has an eating disorder, do you? Ditto for Emil
-- when she was miserable, she lost weight. So do a lot of people. Even me!!
~Rochelle
Mon, Oct 13, 1997 (21:40)
#17
Absolutely. Emily does write about food, but she also writes about many of the
very practical aspects of life - fires, tending the animals, etc. It is one of
the aspects of WH that is often noted, the fact that you get a sense that WH is
a working farm set in a real world - a backdrop against which extraordinary things
happen. I don't think food was an obsession with her. Anorexia has simply become
a "fashionable" illness. Of course it is very real, and fairly common today in
our image conscious society, but to make a diagnosis like that on the available
evidence and then largely hang a book on it is just to speculative. Of course,
that is all part of biographical workings - developing theories, which in turn
will be challenged. There will never be such a thing as a definitive biography,
as each age is writing as much about themselves as about the past when they do
bios.
~LorieS
Wed, Oct 15, 1997 (11:29)
#18
Thanks for all the info on Anne's poetry and the bios, too.
~amy2
Wed, Oct 15, 1997 (17:58)
#19
Some of the bios I've read do promote a pet theory without having much fact to back them up. Hence: Barker on Charlotte "destroying" Emily's 2nd novel; Helen Moglen on the sexual content of almost everything in Jane Eyre; Frank on Emily's "anoexia," etc. I told my fiancee' we should come up with a wacko theory, like:
I am the reincarnation of Charlotte Bronte; or -- Patrick & Branwell were lesbians!! I'm sure we could make the talk-show rounds with that one...
~LorieS
Thu, Oct 16, 1997 (14:36)
#20
LOL. The moors are mysterious, and no one really understands those northerners, right? I wonder if Aunt Branwell is central enough (well known enough) to figure in those wild theories. How about if she's Charlotte's natural mother? Or really a man ala Charley's Aunt?
~amy2
Thu, Oct 16, 1997 (20:34)
#21
HA! Why not? Or we could say that Mr. Bronte was having an affair with Tabitha Akyroyd! It seems like anything goes in bios these days, so maybe we can do a Kitty Kelly "tell all" & take the academic world by storm. I spend much of my time shaking my head while reading these books....
~Rochelle
Thu, Oct 16, 1997 (20:39)
#22
Here's an oldie but a goodie - Branwell actually wrote Wuthering Heights! Seems
he bragged about it to his friends...mind you, Branwell bragged about a lot of
things he probably shouldn't have. Another good Emily theory is that she had
transcendental states, or even astral travelled. But here's one for you, Amy. What
do you think of the idea that's been around for a while that the "red room" passage
in JE was drawn from the fact that one of the Bronte - Emily is suggested as the
most likely - experienced a fit simmiler to Jane's?
Then there's an amusing little poem by Branwell, the first line of which - from memory -
runs "Eamalia is a gurt bellaring bull", and goes on to describe how Emily got
into some grog one day and worked herself into a drunken fit, finally having to
be bundled off to bed. The theory runs that it describes an actual incident.
~amy2
Fri, Oct 17, 1997 (10:08)
#23
Oh brother! I have heard the one about Branwell being the "real" author of WH because of course, a mere GIRL couldn't write that book, could she? As far as Branwell's juvenalia -- the whole thing was drenched with tales of drunkenness & adultery, but I hardly think these children had personally experienced it at this point! Charlotte even makes fun of him by having his character brag about drinking all this gin, & it turns out he's just had several cups of tea!