Show Notes
The date is July 30th, Tuesday, and today I’m traveling from Portland, Oregon to Boston, Massachusetts.
Today is the birthday of Emily Brontë, English writer.
Born in 1818 in Northern England, Emily was joyously welcomed. She was the fifth child out of six for a simple clergyman and his wife. Emily’s sister Anne, two years her junior would become her closest confidante.
Emily’s early years were plagued with loss: her mother died of cancer when Emily was just three.
At six, Emily was sent away to school, joining her three elder sisters. Charlotte had written home insisting the school was only bad news. The teachers were abusive and abrasive, the instruction subpar and she begged her father to bring them all home. He refused.
Maria the eldest, became sick while at school and made the journey home. Upon her return to the parsonage, she quickly succumbed to her illness. When the remaining three girls arrived home, presumably for Maria’s funeral, Elizabeth the second oldest also succumbed to a months-long cold she contracted at school. Mr. Brontë did not send Charlotte and Emily back to that horrid school, literally fearing for their lives.
The Brontë’s maternal aunt was already living at the Brontë parsonage. She was put in charge of the children when their mother died and now would oversee their education at home. Despite their middle-income status and remoteness of their village, the remaining Brontë children had access to various written material.
Emily was notoriously shy around anyone outside her immediate family. She much preferred the solitude of walks outdoors to crowded balls and dinners. Her walks were closely tied to her love of nature. Emily would often return home with a stray country dog at her heels or an injured bird in her hands.
On first glance, the contents of Emily’s only novel Wuthering Heights stand in stark contrast to the life she led. Wuthering Heights is indeed known for psychological torture, violence, and overt sensuality. It confounded readers in 1847 when it was first released.
However, Emily had quite a bit of practice in drama growing up. In a small country town, the children were educated by their aunt but also had plenty of time to play. On days were they were stuck inside due to weather, the Brontë children made up storylines for a box of toy soldiers. They created their own fictional worlds for their characters, and more often than not the soldiers were Scottish Highlanders, romantic, brutish, and living in extremes.
Reviewing the poetry and verse that survive from the Brontës’ tween and teen years, one can see the seeds of Wuthering Heights.
Emily Brontë unfortunately was not able to escape an early death. She died at age 30 from tuberculosis, her death hastened by a harsh winter and contaminated water near the Brontë parsonage. She lives on in her poetry and prose.
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Christopher Marlowe
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.
The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
Thank you for listening. I’m your host, Virginia Combs, wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.