woensdag 22 december 2010

21-12-1848 Funeral of Emily and Keeper, her dog.

Emily Bronte was buried
in the family vault
at Haworth Parish Church.
She had died on 19th December
aged 30.
-------------------------

On December 19, 1848, Emily, 29 years old, died of tuberculosis. She had become ill three months earlier at Branwell's funeral. Branwell died of tuberculosis aggravated by his dissolute life style. According to Charlotte, as Emily slowly withdrew from life, Keeper continually “lay at the side of her dying-bed” ( Barker, 1998, p. 240).
By the time of Emily's death, the power struggles between them were long over. Even as her strength waned, Emily was determined to continue caring for both Keeper and Flossey. Barker (1994) wrote, “The evening before her death she insisted on feeding the dogs...as she had always done. As she stepped from the warmth of the kitchen into the cold air of the damp, stone-flagged passage, she staggered and almost fell against the wall” (p. 576). The next afternoon Emily died.

The accounts of Emily's funeral all mention Keeper (Garber, 1996). Charlotte wrote that Keeper “followed her funeral to the vault,” and then came into the church with the family, “lying in the pew couched at [their] feet while the burial service was being read”( Barker, 1998, p. 240). According to Gaskell (1975), Keeper “walked first among the mourners to her funeral; he slept moaning for nights at the door of her empty room, and never, so to speak, rejoiced, dog fashion after her death” (p. 269). In her visits with Mrs. Gaskell after Emily's death, Charlotte seemed to find reassurance in talking about the funeral. Mrs. Gaskell noted how often Charlotte spoke about Keeper walking “side by side with her father” toward the graveyard and how often she mentioned Keeper sleeping every night at the door of Emily's empty room, “snuffing under it, and whining every morning” ( Wise, 1980, vol. 4, p. 87).

1 opmerking:

  1. Sou admiradora das família Brontë, esse poema é inspirado em Emily Brontë: Preciso me entregar aos sonhos
    Onde montanhas rochosas
    De praias longínquas
    Faziam-me refletir recordações...
    Passos na areia,
    Olhos no horizonte
    Imensidão do mar
    E a ternura afogada em prantos.
    A saudade latente em cada poema
    Mas se não te perdi
    Entre as nuvens do esquecimento
    Irei navegar no mais profundo sentir...
    Para resgatar-te da solidão
    E da minha própria aquiescência da vida
    A! Como seria melhor viver de sonhos
    E a vida não fosse real,
    Uma sonhadora contumaz
    E pudéssemos reter toda essência
    Que o amor nos traz...
    Para jogar ao solo do nosso coração...
    E lá sementes de eternidade
    Que nos transformara em estrelas cadentes
    A conduzir os desatentos
    Ao repouso de um amor verdadeiro.

    Autora
    Liê Ribeiro
    19/01/2016

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