Presently the door opened, and in came a superannuated mastiff, followed by an old gentleman very like Miss Bronte, who shook hands with us, and then went to call his daughter. A long interval, during which we coaxed the old dog, and looked at a picture of Miss Bronte, by Richmond, the solitary ornament of the room, looking strangely out of place on the bare walls, and at the books on the little shelves, most of them evidently the gift of the authors since Miss Bronte's celebrity. Presently she came in, and welcomed us very kindly, and took me upstairs to take off my bonnet, and herself brought me water and towels. The uncarpeted stone stairs and floors, the old drawers propped on wood, were all scrupulously clean and neat. When we went into the parlour again, we began talking very comfortably, when the door opened and Mr. Bronte looked in; seeing his daughter there, I suppose he thought it was all right, and he retreated to his study on the opposite side of the passage; presently emerging again to bring W---- a country newspaper. This was his last appearance till we went. Miss Bronte spoke with the greatest warmth of Miss Martineau, and of the good she had gained from her. Well! we talked about various things; the character of the people, - about her solitude, etc., till she left the room to help about dinner, I suppose, for she did not return for an age. The old dog had vanished; a fat curly-haired dog honoured us with his company for some time, but finally manifested a wish to get out, so we were left alone. At last she returned, followed by the maid and dinner, which made us all more comfortable; and we had some very pleasant conversation, in the midst of which time passed quicker than we supposed, for at last W---- found that it was half-past three, and we had fourteen or fifteen miles before us. So we hurried off, having obtained from her a promise to pay us a visit in the spring... ------------------- "She cannot see well, and does little beside knitting. The way she weakened her eyesight was this: When she was sixteen or seventeen, she wanted much to draw; and she copied nimini-pimini copper-plate engravings out of annuals, ('stippling,' don't the artists call it?) every little point put in, till at the end of six months she had produced an exquisitely faithful copy of the engraving. She wanted to learn to express her ideas by drawing. After she had tried to draw stories, and not succeeded, she took the better mode of writing; but in so small a hand, that it is almost impossible to decipher what she wrote at this time.
I asked her whether she had ever taken opium, as the description given of its effects in Villette was so exactly like what I had experienced, - vivid and exaggerated presence of objects, of which the outlines were indistinct, or lost in golden mist, etc. She replied, that she had never, to her knowledge, taken a grain of it in any shape, but that she had followed the process she always adopted when she had to describe anything which had not fallen within her own experience; she had thought intently on it for many and many a night before falling to sleep, - wondering what it was like, or how it would be, - till at length, sometimes after the progress of her story had been arrested at this one point for weeks, she wakened up in the morning with all clear before her, as if she had in reality gone through the experience, and then could describe it, word for word, as it had happened. I cannot account for this psychologically; I only am sure that it was so, because she said it. ----------------------She thought much of her duty, and had loftier and clearer notions of it than most people, and held fast to them with more success. It was done, it seems to me, with much more difficulty than people have of stronger nerves, and better fortunes. All her life was but labour and pain; and she never threw down the burden for the sake of present pleasure. I don't know what use you can make of all I have said. I have written it with the strong desire to obtain appreciation for her. Yet, what does it matter? She herself appealed to the world's judgement for her use of some of the faculties she had, - not the best, - but still the only ones she could turn to strangers' benefit. They heartily, greedily enjoyed the fruits of her labours, and then found out she was much to be blamed for possessing such faculties. Why ask for a judgement on her from such a world?"
elizabeth gaskell/charlotte bronte
and for those who don't read French, I put a Google translation below
BeantwoordenVerwijderenI have to say I'm finally getting into reading Charlotte's wild writings when young . It's particularly fun after months of reading her formal, sober sides letters to Ellen and others
One cannot say they know of Charlotte Bronte without reading both and when one does, one is left with the feeling no one could ever see the whole of this tiny giant.
The great contrast between Charlotte's amazing, free for all early work and her fabulous, formal letters ..only genius could bridge .
The reader's sensibility placed between these sharp contrasts, feels a sensation in the brain that is exquisite and all Charlotte
I have to say there never was and will never be another like her
Whether is was due to a scarcity of paper or so the books would fit the wooden solders hands, making the books tiny was genius at work again. It kept them safe for many years
It also helped that Charlotte's husband, Arthur ,put them away and kept them for the sake of Charlotte's hand writing for 50 years .
The " genius" of Arthur Bell Nicholls is that he didn't try figuring Charlotte out. That would not be possible, so why start?
I think this was part of the attraction for Charlotte . It assured a kind privacy which the Bronte's adored of course.
Even though Arthur could not understand her gift( and how many could? ) He felt its effect nonetheless and loved Charlotte in part because of it. It was a huge part of who she was after all . You don't have to understand the science behind fire to feel the heat and burn .
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Postscript Young Mens Magazines Charlotte Brontë
Charlotte Brontë
Thornton, 1816 - Haworth, 1855
Autograph manuscript, entitled Second series of the Young Mens Magazines. No Second, dated September 1830.
The British novelist wrote this novel at the age of 14 years
. This work is part of a series of magazines written in Charlotte Brontë's teenage years . They are directly inspired by Blackwood's Magazine, mixing international news magazine, news items and folktales that Patrick Brontë read to their children and strongly feed their imagination.
Young Men's Magazine and is part of the fantastic world of Glass Town, the earliest fictional worlds created by the four Bronte children.
The manuscript presented here consists of three texts entitled: "A letter from Lord Charles Wellesley" ("Letter from Lord Charles Wellesley"), "The Midnight Song" ("The Song of Midnight") and "Journal of a Frenchman [Continued ] "(" Diary of a French [more]
The manuscript ends with a page of "Advertisements" ("Announcements") in which it is to read: "To seize. A beautiful horse!! For those who know how to cheat. "The early works of Bronte children are of paramount importance, as the universe created during this period influenced their written works to adulthood.
Thus, in "A letter from Lord Charles Wellesley," we find a scene describing how Caroline Krista sets fire to bed Charles Wellesley. The description of this act of madness is reminiscent of one of the most famous of the famous scenes in " Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Brontë, when Bertha, the mad wife of Mr. Rochester, sets fire to his bed .
Wonderful to see so much of the little 'magazine' in this video...loved the oversized views of the pages, that was a treat!
BeantwoordenVerwijderenThank you Anne for the translation...
xo J~