Haworth has become synonymous with literary history, thanks to the Brontë sisters who produced several famous novels such as Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, who called it home. The village is currently decorated for autumn – and tourists who want to experience the best of it are running out of time. Anyone planning to make the most of limited time in Haworth this autumn is advised to begin at Main Street where there are a range of independent cafes, old fashioned sweet shops and other boutique stores. (...)

The Brontë Parsonage Museum is one of Haworth's most popular tourist attractions. (...)

Beyond the shops is beautiful surrounding countryside accessible on foot from the village. A particularly good spot to head for is the Brontë waterfall. (Alycia McNamara)

The Lancashire Telegraph helps to pronounce Keighley correctly and also talks about the city:

   

Ideological constraints in literary translation: Wuthering Heights under Francoism versus Contemporary Translations

by Alessia Silvi Milan

Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona. Facultat de Traducció i d'Interpretació, 2026

This study examines the influence of historical, ideological, and cultural contexts on literary translation through a comparative study of different Spanish translations of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. Its main objective is to observe how certain elements of the source text related to violence, morality, power relations, gender, and emotional intensity are reformulated, mitigated, or modified depending on the historical period in which each translation was produced. The study compares excerpts from the translation by Juan G. de Luaces, produced during the Franco regime, with a contemporary translation by Lidia Berrocal Campuzano. The analysis is conducted from a descriptive and sociocultural perspective within Translation Studies, incorporating concepts related to ideology, cultural domestication, Francoist censorship, and literary reception. In this way, the paper aims to demonstrate that literary translations are conditioned not only by political factors but also by cultural and translational conventions that endure over time.

What Fire Could Not Burn: Mad Doubles and Dissident Selves in Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights and Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar

by Martina Naranjo Muñoz

Universidad de Salamanca. Facultad de Filología. Grado en Estudios Ingleses, 2026

A través del contraste de La Campana de Cristal (1963) de Sylvia Plath y Cumbres Borrascosas (1847) de Emily Brontë, esta disertación analiza cómo las identidades disidentes se ven forzadas a fragmentarse debido a la imposibilidad de ser ellas mismas en una sociedad dictada por roles de género estrictos e inamovibles. De esta manera, Esther Greenwood y Catherine Earnshaw proyectan sus pensamientos disruptivos en dobles ‘locas’, figuras que encarnan la subjetividad que no pueden manifestar públicamente. En consecuencia, esta fragmentación de la identidad acaba llevándolas al colapso mental. Por lo tanto, a través de un análisis detallado de la locura y los espacios liminales tanto como medios evasivos a través de los cuales las heroínas exploran su yo no normativo como instrumentos patriarcales de confinamiento, este trabajo pretende ilustrar las técnicas literarias empleadas por las autoras para transmitir identidades transgresoras a través de la literatura. Por último, al rechazar tanto la maternidad como el matrimonio, las protagonistas adoptan una trayectoria de vida ‘queer’, una elección que pone de manifiesto su aversión hacia las normas establecidas por el patriarcado y revela las estructuras de poder que las sociedades patriarcales construyen para mantener su orden hegemónico.

   

This week marks 179 years since the first publication of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre in 1847, something which will be celebrated in Great Britain with little more than a small London theatre production. The occasion may be being noted more enthusiastically in China, where the book has been newly added to the national curriculum for 14- and 15-year-olds, with the strange aim of indoctrinating schoolgirls into becoming compliant brood-mares for the demographic good of the Chinese Communist party. [...]

Western commentators have derided the CCP’s actions, mocking their totalitarian and prescriptive attempt, ‘to help [children] establish a value system’ by reading a 200-year-old text and interpolating utterly irrelevant political messages into it. But are 21st-century establishment authorities here in Charlotte Brontë’s original homeland of England really any different?

Brontë Parsonage Museum, the registered charity which manages the family’s old rural rectory home, is currently pretending Jane Eyre – and all the sisters’ literary output – is not about love in the time of communism, but love in the time of colonialism. Running until January, the museum has organised a special exhibition, ‘The Colonial Brontës’, trying desperately to link the sisters to the subjugation of Africa. How were they linked to it, though? Did they own shares in sugar-plantations, or have a secret Jamaican slave hidden in the attic? No, explains the museum’s website, they wrote some stories on little bits of paper when they were children [...]

When writing their own schoolgirl stories set in the imaginary colonies of the Glass Town Federation, the girls made use of racial stereotypes about its likely inhabitants – such as Charlotte’s disgraceful aspersion that they would probably have black skin: ‘The Chief was quite black and very tall; he had a fierce countenance and the finest eyes I ever saw.’ If you can’t cope with extreme language like this, the Museum website contains the following ‘CONTENT WARNING: This page includes excerpts from written works containing outdated terminology.’ Presumably, that means ‘black’ being written without a capital B. 

If you are still dubious that a 13-year-old writing a story set in Africa featuring a black man is highly relevant to the sins of British colonialism, the museum’s curators explain how, ‘The 18th and 19th centuries in England were more racially diverse than many audiences realise.’ Heathcliff from Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, for example, is described in the book as ‘a dark-skinned gypsy in aspect’, but the orphan’s mysterious origins in Liverpool, then a major slaving-port, have long led some literary scholars to speculate that he may really have been black or mixed-race. The museum, however, has a different, more demented, theory: maybe he was actually based on Frederick Douglass?

Where’s the museum’s evidence? There doesn’t seem to be any.

But, if visitors want to know more about the Brontës’ ‘connections’ to slavery, the museum suggests buying the following books from its gift shop: Our Island Stories: Ten Walks Through Rural Britain and Its Hidden History of Empire; The Whole Picture: The Colonial Story of the Art in Our Museums and Why We Need to Talk About It; and Black and British: A Forgotten History by David Olusoga, none of which are about the Brontës at all. When you go to the International Slavery Museum in Liverpool, do you reckon the staff there try to flog you a copy of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall for no reason, or does this kind of thing only go in one direction?

Attempts to link the family to slavery know no bounds, as demonstrated by the academic behind the current ‘Colonial Brontës’ exhibition, Professor Corinne Fowler, back in 2017:

‘The Brontë sisters’ school was just a few miles from the Dentdale home of a notorious slave-owning family called the Sills. The Brontë sisters knew about the Sills family, who worked more than 30 enslaved Africans on the grounds of their [foreign] estate.’

One of Fowler’s previous books is called Green Unpleasant Land: Creative Responses to Rural Britain’s Colonial Connections, and she has previously sat on the ‘Rural Racism’ taskforce, whose remit evidently extended back into the distant past when almost everyone in the English countryside was white. Except Frederick Douglass, obviously.

If the Chinese really want to know how to go about twisting the meaning of classic books for naked political ends, they should commission Professor Fowler to set their curriculum. (Steven Tucker)

If you could only reread one book for the rest of your life, which would it be?

The Staying Alive poetry collection by Neil Astley, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë or Tao Te Ching by Laozi – I’d maybe even cheat a little and do The Complete Works Of Shakespeare. [...]

Are there any book-to-screen adaptations you’d absolutely love to be part of?

Jane Eyre! Which is happening, and I’m unbelievably excited about. (Abby Allen)

However, the film’s brilliantly melodramatic title doesn’t tell the whole story. Wuthering Heights: House of the Damned is a po-faced reimagining of the story as a supernatural slasher, picking and choosing bits of the story to put the novel’s overarching narrator Mr Lockwood, through hell. If only it was Edgar Allan Poe-faced. While the idea’s intriguing, playing it entirely straight leaves it wanting.

The new owner of Thrushcross Grange, Lockwood (Ross Townsend-Green), has an unfortunate first meeting with the owner of Wuthering Heights, Heathcliff (Sky Cheema), and through a series of unfortunate incidents (missing horse, dog bite, classic moors fever) he ends up spending more and more time there overnight. It’s a dreamy if window-breaking encounter with a phantom wrapped in billowing veils that piques his interest. But the increasingly delirious Lockwood’s attempt to discover the recent history of the Heights and the fate of Heathcliff’s son soon merges with bloody visions of the past, and more frequent appearance of a mysterious woman in grey…

Remember the craze for zombie parodies of classics? Well now it’s phantoms with a fondness for sprinting behind you whenever you turn around. Terrorised throughout is Townsend-Green’s hapless squire, who really isn’t cut out for buying a large estate on the Moors. The actor really puts his all into it, screaming, sobbing, quaking and putting his foot in it from the moment he rides up—with the air of Gary Oldman’s Dracula swanning around London—to when he ends up… Well, that would be spoiling the extraordinary denouement a long 1 hour 45 minutes later.

This Heights is huge—seriously massive—apparently with ghosts in every room, ready for Lockwood to stumble in on. Townsend-Green’s game performance is the only source of amusement in the story’s reframing, which could have been as giddy as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol or an all-out comedy. Ultimately, it struggles under the weight of its ominous, solemn tone and its repeated reliance on ghostly jump scares. You don’t expect Heathcliff to break out in a tap dance, but Cheema, who certainly looks the part across two timelines compared to some castings, has to hit out serious lines one after the other until things go impressively off the rails at the end. 

There may be a cheer at the fate that befalls Nellie Dean, one of literature’s most infamously unreliable narrators, but many other opportunities are missed. The gruff manservant Joseph’s constant exasperation that Lockwood has to stay yet another night is gold, but not capitalised on at all. 

Just as Fennell’s take chose the themes it could concentrate on (sex and then a bit more sex), so writer Liana Failla and director Becca Hirani have a particular focus. They find a way to tie up the book’s themes, albeit with a big dose of ocullty-weird, and it is a pleasant change to see an ‘adaptation’ take interest in the mirroring second generation of the novel’s characters that so often don’t make it to film.

‘You can catch anything on the Moors, sir’, opines Hareton (like most other characters, a little off from their traditional representation) to Lockwood at one point. There’s no danger catching a lick of pace, sadly. You can see the strong bones of the idea, where Failla ties neatly into Brontë’s plot points and (not to everyone’s taste) takes definitive advantage of some of the book’s most enigmatic scenes. It’s brilliantly shameless how a little extra slant of horror is added at both ends of the ol’ devil’s life. If only, though, the treatment had a bit of ingenuity in its scares and humour.

Sorry, Heathcliff, but it’s not an essential sacrifice this Halloween. (Matt Goddard)

Speaking of the tangible romantic experience, an adaptation that manages to subvert this was Wuthering Heights. Although the original was not written with romance as its main plot; Fennell’s adaptation gets away with unconventional scenes and sexual exploits as the reimagined setting and costumes presents a theatricality that borders on avant-guard. 

Unlike in The Deal, the characters become less human than they were in the source material. This ends up making the eccentric promiscuity digestible as they are no longer the characters from the book. The movie was controversial, which means you either loved it or hated it, and lovers of Brontë’s original work usually align with the latter. [...]

Romance adaptations are horrendously difficult to perfect as directors must observe the current climate and sacrifice elements of the book that no longer reflect healthy boundaries. Depending on how they are directed, and whether they make it over the top, such as in Wuthering Heights to justify it, or remove the dubious content entirely, like in Off Campus, the product will not satisfy all those who consume it. (Lottie Latimer)

   

The annual poetry festival at the Brontë Parsonage Museum:

Poetry at the Parsonage 2026

West Lane Baptist Church, Haworth

October 24, 10am - 6pm

Voices from a Yorkshire Moor 

From the Brontës to The Book of Bogs, moors, bogs and marshes have given rise to some of our finest writing. This is a day to revel in those words...

The audience are invited not just to listen but to respond by creating their own Book of Bogs: a handmade pamphlet containing words, drawings and found materials. Afterwards, participants will be invited to share their work through an open mic. 

Events run from 10am: you can join us for all or part of the day. 

Expect a friendly and accessible event where you can be as active and creative as the performers. There's also a warm welcome to audience members who prefer to sit quietly and listen!  

10am-12pm: Voices from the moor: a lively morning workshop with Clare Shaw and Anna Chilvers.

1-4pm: readings from the UK and Ireland’s best contemporary eco-poets: Jane Clarke, Michael Malay, David Morley, Harriet Tarlo, Victoria Gatehouse.

4-5pm: Open mic

5pm: Big Bog Disco 

Anna Chilvers (Bluemoose) and Clare Shaw (Bloodaxe) are popular writers and facilitators who have authored and edited 14 books between them - including poetry, novels and creative non-fiction. In 2025, they co-edited “The Book of Bogs: Stories of a Yorkshire Moor and other Peatlands” (Little Toller), featuring over 43 leading writers of ecology, nature and place. Book of Bogs is a model for what happens when poetry and ecology meet — when words help us look more closely at the natural world, feel it more deeply — and take action to defend it. 

   

Purists will be pleased to hear that Reid’s adaptation [of Sense and Sensibility] is a fairly faithful one – Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights this is not. (Katie Cunningham)

One of Carson’s most famous literary works is “The Glass Essay,” a long-form lyric poem that blends a personal narrative of heartbreak with critical commentary on Emily Brontë. Carson intertwines a constructed narrative of a devastating breakup with Emily Brontë’s oeuvre and life. In doing so, Carson incorporates critical analyses of Brontë’s life and observations from her sister, Charlotte, to comment on heartbreak, isolation, and literature as an emotional outlet. [...]

Brontë is intertwined with the speaker’s grief in a way that at first seems out of place—how does this author from the 19th century relate to the speaker’s breakup? Eventually, readers understand that the speaker identifies with Brontë, feeling that her liminality and isolation after being abandoned are turning her into Emily Brontë. At the end of the poem’s second section, “SHE,” the speaker asks: “What meat is it, Emily, that we need?”

The speaker does not just allude to Brontë as a kindred spirit, however. The poem’s unique perspective—what the Nobel committee calls “bold” and “inventive”—comes from Carson’s combination of this intensely personal narrative with literary analysis. The speaker quotes unnamed critics (likely inventions by Carson to represent a general argument within the literary world rather than any one scholar), using interpretations of Brontë and her life to deepen her self-understanding or refute a claim with her own experience. In one stanza, a disparaging critic wonders why Brontë longed for liberty when her home life was satisfactory. The speaker responds that imprisonment takes many forms and describes her own childhood, showing how she reads Brontë’s poetry through her own life. (Eden Bridge-Hayes)