The New Yorker discusses 'The Boom of the Sex-Recession Movie'- In February, I went to see Emerald Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights” at my local movie theatre, in Brooklyn. Next to me sat a man and a woman in their twenties. Early in the film, as Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi) and Cathy (Margot Robbie) breathlessly spy on a couple of servants engaging in a bout of horse-and-rider-themed roleplay, the man beside me began to squirm. This display of light bondage proved merely an amuse-bouche to the erotic banquet that Fennell had prepared. There are no sex scenes in Emily’s Brontë’s novel—the star-crossed protagonists never so much as kiss—but in Fennell’s adaptation they came and came and came: Heathcliff and Cathy snogging in a little carriage; Heathcliff and Cathy going at it on a dining table; Cathy furiously masturbating on the moors as Heathcliff sneaks up on her to watch. My neighbor reacted to such displays with a series of what Brontë would have called “ejaculations,” gasping and groaning in horrified astonishment. “Oh, my God!” he exclaimed. “He’s a sex addict!” he reported to his date, who had slipped away to the bathroom just as Heathcliff leashed up another poor girl and turned her into his willing slave. When the credits rolled, he sat, stunned, head in hands, tears rolling down his face. “That was so fucking dope,” he said, between sobs. (Alexandra Schwartz)
Spanish newspaper Público recently published an imaginary interview with Jane Eyre in which 'she' discussed beauty standards. Opino que la apariencia no debería confundirse con la verdad. Que el aparato externo no es la esencia genuina de las cosas y que los muros blanqueados jamás deberían responder de la condición del sepulcro. Pero esta cuestión no solo ha importado en este siglo. Las mujeres que buscan alcanzar un ideal de belleza están ahí desde tiempos inmemoriales, porque mientras libran esa batalla no tienen tiempo ni fuerzas para luchar por la dignidad del alma, la independencia de la mente y la firmeza del carácter. No me malinterprete: hay mujeres bellísimas que cumplen las otras tres condiciones, pero el equilibrio es difícil porque el tiempo y las fuerzas son finitas. Nosotras debemos elegir qué guerras queremos ganar, y quizás la batalla final sea aceptar que podemos ser feas sin que nada pase. Pero todo el mundo quiere mirarse en el espejo y verse bien. El problema es en qué medida "verse bien" depende solamente del espíritu de cada cual. Mi marido sugirió vestirme de raso y encaje, y adornar con rosas mi cabello, igual que hacían todas las esposas de nuestra misma posición, y yo le respondí: si haces eso entonces yo no me reconocería y habría dejado de ser Jane Eyre, tu Janet. Me convertiría en una mona enfundada en una chaqueta de arlequín o en un grajo revestido de plumas de pavo real. Y añadí: yo no digo que sea usted guapo, señor, aunque le ame; precisamente porque le amo tiernamente no lo hago, así que no me adule usted a mí. La belleza es relativa, pero el ideal de belleza de una sociedad no lo es. (Antía Yáñez Rodríguez) (Translation)
A columnist from OkDiario (Spain) picks up that last sentence to discuss beauty standards as well, together with an AI-generated image of a copy of Jane Eyre (surely there's some metaphor in that?)
the latter half of the 19th century and into the early 20th century [when] there took place in some towns and villages in the Pennines of West Yorkshire what was sometimes referred to as “the annual casting off of the apron strings”. [...] The Keighley Hen Pecked Club was the creation of Henry Thompson, the landlord of the Royal Oak on Damside. He was better known as Harry Tap and later owned the White Horse Brewery at Hermit Hole and the inn across the road. The idea of forming a club may well have been sparked by a popular book of the period – The Hen-Pecked Husband by Harriet Ann Scott – which focused on the domestic struggles within the Victorian household. Although now largely forgotten, it was said to rival Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights in popularity at the time. (Robin Longbottom)
An alert for this weekend in Tudanca, Spain:
I Seminario Literatura y Paisaje Pensando el páramo desde el valle. Taller sobre Cumbres borrascosas Directed by the writer Aixa De la Cruz August 22, 23, 10:00 to 14:00
Este taller de lectura y debate en torno a la novela de Emily Brontë, abordará esta obra desde una perspectiva literaria y cultural. La actividad incluirá asimismo el visionado y análisis de fragmentos de adaptaciones audiovisuales, con el fin de explorar cómo el imaginario colectivo ha reinterpretado el texto. Este encuentro en Tudanca permite pensar ‘ Cumbres borrascosas’ desde la relación entre literatura y paisaje. En la novela de Emily Brontë, el páramo no funciona como un simple escenario, sino como una fuerza que modela a los personajes y expresa sus emociones, diciendo a menudo lo que, según los códigos de época, habría sido imposible expresar de manera directa. Leer ‘ Cumbres borrascosas’ desde un enclave como Tudanca, donde el vínculo entre literatura y territorio es tan marcado, abre la posibilidad de preguntarnos de qué manera los paisajes entran en los libros y cómo la literatura transforma, a su vez, nuestra manera de mirar y habitar esos paisajes. ( Cantabria Directa)
The worst that can possibly happen is happening. We warned about this a few days ago, and here it is: the politicization of the opposition to the Calderdale windfarm. The harm that this initiative will do and the fact that local media unashamedly dance to the orders of the local right-wing leaders is just terrible. Look at the comments if you don't believe us. Now if you oppose this obnoxious project, you turn out to be an ally of the fossil fuel industry and a follower of the Farage sect. We read in The Telegraph & Argus: Three leaders of Reform-led councils in West Yorkshire and Lancashire are united in their opposition to a giant windfarm which a company hopes to build on Calderdale moorland. Calderdale Energy Park (CEP) plans to put 34 giant wind turbines on Walshaw Moor, which is located between Hebden Bridge and Haworth, the village associated with the Bronte sisters. The company says the turbines will generate enough low carbon electricity to power 198,000 homes a year. But the proposals have met with strong resistance from campaigners concerned about potential damage to peatland and loss of moorland habitat which is home to birds. The Government’s Energy Secretary – currently Miatta Fahnbulleh – will ultimately decide whether or not this controversial application is given the green light. (...) Councillors Dan Sutherland, the leader of Calderdale Council, Stephen Place, leader of Bradford Council, and Stephen Atkinson, leader of Lancashire County Council, met at Halifax Town Hall to discuss and set out their concerns. By responding to the Calderdale Energy Park proposal collectively, they hope to amplify concerns about the plans – which have also been made by campaigners and residents – not just regionally but nationally. (...) Another factor causing alarm was the impact on the heritage associated with the moorland. “The Brontes’ work is of global significance,” said Coun Sutherland. The final outcome might come down to the Brontë moors – or the Calderdale Energy Park, he said. (...) Coun Place said: “We don’t think it’s been widely enough known in the Bradford area, which is why we’re keen to get involved with this. “It’s just something we have got to make the public aware of. “The Brontës’ works are cherished and protected peatland could be severely affected,” he said. (John Greenwood)
It's certainly disturbing to link together in the same phrase Reform Party and the Brontës. But here we are. It's much, much better to associate the Brontës with solidarity initiatives like this one that happened in Haworth. In Keighley News: More than 200 people took part in a new charity walk through Brontë country. The first-ever Brontë Pub Walk started in Haworth and wound through Stanbury, Ponden and the outskirts of Oakworth, finishing on Haworth’s Main Street. Walkers followed in the footsteps of the famous literary sisters while raising funds for Sue Ryder’s palliative and end-of-life care services. Routes of five and 10 miles were available, with pub stops along the way. Adam Brunksill, regional fundraising team manager at Sue Ryder Manorlands Hospice, said: "We’re incredibly grateful to everyone who took part in our very first Brontë Pub Walk and helped make it such a special day. "It was fantastic to see people enjoying the beautiful countryside, visiting some of the places connected to the Brontë family and, of course, stopping for a well-earned drink or two along the way. (...) he walk passed by the Brontë Parsonage Museum and St Michael and All Angels’ Church, where several members of the Brontë family are buried. (Francis Redwood)
Another review of The Bronté Sister House Party is online. In City Cast DC: Brontë Sister House Party, a comedy that’s equal parts literary feminism and Christopher Durang-style surrealism, feels like it was expressly written for Nu Sass Productions. (...) Nu Sass co-founder and artistic director Aubri O’Connor plays Jane Eyre author Charlotte Brontë in House Party. Her performance as a neurotic people-pleaser who lives (well, “lives”) in hope that a Belgian professor who inspired characters in at least three of her novels will at last show up for this interminable soirée is one of the best reasons to attend. Written in 2021, this clever provocation comes to us from playwright Courtney Bailey. Bailey holds a Ph.D. in English literature from Baylor University, but her premise is far from academic: We are all the invited guests of the three literary Brontë ladies, none of whom lived to see 40, now sentenced to entertain us in some otherworldly bardo until their jailer decides they (we?) have reached The Point of Celebratory Reverence. Our hosts have little guidance on exactly how they might achieve this ecstatic state. Their only clue is a game show-style chime that rewards them whenever they do something to indicate that they’re fun-loving and sociable and not just a trio of introspective and invariably miserable writers. (..) Her characters are not all of equal interest, and the performances animating them are variable. Director Kathleen Barth struggles to keep the pace of all this clever existential chitchat sufficiently caffeinated, as evidenced by the fact that a play with a published (and ideal) run time of 90 minutes to two hours stretches out, intermission included, to two and a half. Still, it’s a fun night out, and one that might inspire you to brush up on your Brontë bibliography. (Chris Klimek)
The Fan Carpet explores "how John Caird and Megan McGinnis are reimagining Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre through ensemble storytelling": Rather than asking one performer to carry the weight of Charlotte Brontë's first-person narration, co-book writer and co-director John Caird has transformed the ensemble into Jane's collective voice. It is a deceptively simple idea, but one that completely changes how audiences experience the story. For Caird, the challenge was never to recreate the novel word for word. Instead, the goal was to preserve what makes Jane Eyre special while allowing theatre to do what theatre does best. A novel allows readers inside Jane's thoughts for hundreds of pages. On stage, those inner emotions must become action, performance and music. Sharing Jane's narration across the company preserves Charlotte Brontë's first-person perspective while creating something that feels inherently theatrical. (...) One decision that particularly impressed us was the production's commitment to casting genuine young performers as Young Jane and Adèle. Rather than asking adults to portray childhood, Emily-Rose Samuel and Poppy Jason bring an authenticity to the opening chapters of Jane's journey that helps establish the emotional foundation for everything that follows. It is a reminder that Jane's resilience isn't born overnight—it begins with the experiences that shape her from childhood.
1. Hathersage Hathersage has strong literary connections - having inspired Charlotte Brontë while she was writing Jane Eyre. The nearby North Lees Hall (pictured here) also became the main inspiration for Thornfield Hall. The Grave of Little John, Robin Hood’s second-in-command, can be found at St. Michael’s Church in the heart of Hathersage. While there is little evidence proving he is buried here, ballads suggest that he originated from Hathersage and settled there again later in his life. (Tom Hardwicke)
BookRiot has a list of historical queer gothic novels. Including
The Wives of Herrick Hall by Julie Lew In 1799, a disgraced young woman becomes the companion to a Lady in the isolated Herrick Hall. Lady Blake suffers from nightly visions of her impending death, and Herrick Hall is haunted by its previous mistresses. If you’ve longed for a sapphic take on Rebecca or Jane Eyre, and if you like ghosts, family secrets, curses, and forbidden love, this is perfect for your TBR.
A haunting prequel to Jane Eyre, imagining the life of Mr. Rochester's 'madwoman in the attic' before her confinement, a Creole heiress in postcolonial Jamaica. Rhys writes with lush, feverish intensity, turning a footnote of Victorian fiction into a devastating meditation on colonialism, identity, and erasure. Essential, and far richer than its source material. (Simran Sukhnani) In 1876, Publishers Weekly asked booksellers to identify their most saleable novels. [Blanche Willis Howard’s] One Summer ranked below Dinah Mulock Craik’s John Halifax and Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre but ahead of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Más figuras literarias surgidas en Yorkshire han acabado en la pantalla. Por ejemplo, la pareja de Cumbres Borrascosas. Su escritora, Emily Brontë ambientó la obra en su paisaje natal, el parque nacional de Yorkshire Dales. Sus páramos cubiertos de brezos, entre verdes oscuro y púrpuras, según incida la luz de un sol casi siempre plomizo, aportan tenebrismo al relato. Y pasan a ser un protagonista más en la reciente cinta protagonizada por un tempestuoso Jacob Elordi y una Margot Robbie, tan hermosa como tóxica. (Armando Cerra) (Translation) The New York Times Midi Crossword (August 21, 2026) contains a Brontë question: "Jane, in a Brontë novel". An alert for tomorrow, August 22, in Thornton: Saturday 22nd August | 11am – 1pm Starting Point: The Bronte Birthplace, 72-74 Market Street, Thornton, BD13 3HF.
Join Paul Crossley and the Brontë Birthplace for our Walking Tour of historic Thornton, uncovering the rich cultural, industrial, and architectural heritage of the Brontë children’s birthplace. For many years, Thornton has been the forgotten chapter in the Brontë story but since the grand opening of the Brontë Birthplace, we’re working to shine a light on the fascinating history of this charming and characterful village. Led by local historian and Bronte family expert Paul and a group of local volunteers, this 2-hour tour begins at the Brontë Birthplace and guides you through key sites including the Brontë Bell Chapel ruins, Kipping House, South Square Centre, and the village’s iconic snickets and ginnels. Once overlooked, Thornton’s story is now being brought to life. Step into its vibrant past and discover how it helped shape the Brontës. The tour ends back at the Birthplace, where you’re welcome to relax in the café, browse the gift shop, or book a house tour.
At first, the concept makes good use of actors trying to act mirthful, a feat even more difficult to pull off convincingly onstage than in real life. In time, the irony fades, and the audience—who is, for some reason, also in the void with the sisters—must endure the Brontës’ fumbling efforts to achieve a measure of self-acceptance. (...) It doesn’t help that the cast’s vain efforts to engage the audience seem pitched for a bigger space (or for overpowering the steady drone of the air-conditioning), making us feel even more like befuddled trespassers in the afterlife. Add a general grasp of character that rarely moves past stereotype and directorial composition that gets more muddled as the play gets more crowded and suddenly everything is being forced, not just the fun. Granted, [Courtney] Bailey’s script—aiming for feminist critique by way of a postmodern, madcap mash-up—gives the company many confusing cues to sift through, including when it comes to the author’s thesis. The sisters indulge their angry, mediocre brother, a poster boy for toxic masculinity if there ever was one, and yet the authors’ famous characters are there mostly to flagellate them for not writing work that was feminist enough. Internalized misogyny is at play throughout, as one character bluntly states, but that’s a hard problem to unpack thoughtfully when the sisters’ punishment already seems wildly harsh and when their salvation has a lot more to do with “being their true selves” than it does with the plight of women as a whole. (Jared Strange)
Following the acclaimed arrival of her English translation debut, The Remembered Soldier, a National Book Award finalist, Anjet Daanje’s latest novel, The Song of the Stork and Dromedary, is yet another psychological puzzle, enveloping readers in a mystifying literary haze that persists until the novel’s final pages. Drawing on the lives of the Brontë sisters, Daanje weaves macabre imagery, dubious diaries, scattered letters, and a series of vignettes into a story spanning nearly 300 years. The result is a sprawling meditation on death, sisterhood, and the mysteries that refuse to be buried. Opening the novel in late 18th-century England, Daanje wastes no time linking the novel to the esteemed Brontë sisters, primarily Emily, whose life is mirrored by the cryptic Eliza May Drayden. The Drayden sisters not only write Victorian Gothic novels but also echo the Brontës in their sisterly bonds, childhood-born imaginary worlds, and encounters with illness, all of which lie at the heart of the narrative. Blankly gazing at the corpse of yet another sister, six-year-old Eliza asks, “Is God hungry?”, initiating the novel’s lengthy exploration of death. Along this ghastly thread, readers follow eleven primary profiles—including biographer Agnes Chambers, Emery Niles, and several pairs of fated sisters—whose lives are all influenced in some manner by Eliza Drayden and her novel Haeger Mass, a heavily criticized Gothic tale in the vein of Wuthering Heights. These episodes are interspersed with diary entries, notes, and poems that gradually fill in the gaps of the enigma that surrounds Eliza far beyond the grave. (Brock Covington)
Ignore the haters – I fell in love with Scarborough all over again, from Anne Brontë’s grave to fish and chips, cheap arcades to seaside tat. (...) Standing in a quiet corner of St Mary's Church in Scarborough, I gaze at the gravestone of Anne Brontë, who died in this North Yorkshire seaside resort in 1849 aged just 29. The peaceful spot overlooks South Bay, where pavements are heaving with day trippers. Nowadays, visitors flock to Scarborough for fish and chips and, of course, the beaches. But Anne came to Scarborough when it was rising in popularity in the 1800s, although its famous spa waters were discovered earlier, in 1626, marking the creation of the UK's first seaside resort. (Alesia Fiddler)
Decider reviews the last film by Julia Hart, Don't Say Good Luck (beware of spoilers):
Elizabeth is wheeled out in the backyard in a wheelchair, looking very sick and frail, but still happy to see her family. She hands her husband Ted (Max Greenfield) a copy of the book she had been reading, Jane Eyre, with a note on it to him, “You’ll have to tell me how it ends.” They both understand this to mean that Elizabeth only has a few weeks, maybe even just a few days, left to live. (Anna Menta) Wuthering Heights 2026 features among the 20 sexiest movies on Prime Video to stream according to Esquire: Love her or hate her, Emerald Fennell can make a steamy movie. Wuthering Heights is a little more of a reimagining than an adaptation, taking quite a few liberties with the text, but It puts the romantic and sexual dynamics right at the forefront of the story. MyRepública thinks that the original novel deserves your attention, no matter what you think of the film:
Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (1847) Emerald Fennell’s 2026 adaptation has sparked outrage among the book’s lovers and (hopefully) interest among those whose introduction to Emily Brontë’s 1847 masterpiece came through the movie. The movie, with its stunning visuals and a subdued storyline, strips away much of the original story—including the entirety of the second generation of Linton, Heathcliff, and Earnshaw children—and leaves much to be discovered in the pages of the book. Brontë’s novel has romance, certainly, but also includes tension caused by race and class. Heathcliff as a character is both sympathetic and abhorrent. His status as an outsider causes him to be abused at the hands of Hindley. Yet, his own cruelty toward Isabella and toward the offspring of Edgar Linton and Hindley Earnshaw, enemies he wishes to take revenge upon, cannot be overlooked. Catherine Earnshaw, Heathcliff’s equal, also defies expectations of the heroines in most romance novels. She is cruel, selfish, and temperamental; her hold over Heathcliff, and their inability to be together, is the central conflict in the story. Cathy proclaims, “I am Heathcliff,” a statement both romantic and terrifying, inviting the reader to understand the depth of their passion for and obsession with each other. Their love is far from healthy, and that is one of the most compelling aspects of the book. Ultimately, the ‘love story’ the reader has been expecting throughout the tale happens in its third act, as the younger generation puts an end to the cycle of violence and abuse. A story centred around human emotion that does not shy away from its ugliness and destructiveness, Wuthering Heights deserves a read for both its romantic aspects and its exploration of human behaviour. (Samanata Shrestha)
Elle explores the revival of dollhouses: The renewed fascination with dollhouses isn’t just playing out online; it’s influencing pop culture. Emerald Fennell notably added a dollhouse to her film, Wuthering Heights, a 1:12-scale replica of Thrushcross Grange (Brontë devotees will know there is no dollhouse mentioned in the 1847 novel). The scaled replica featured prominently in Architectural Digest’s tour of the film’s set with its star, Margot Robbie, and production designer, Suzie Davies, who showed viewers its perfectly scaled Regency rooms. (Madeline Weinfield) The Hindu has an article of how Madras filmmakers adapted literature to film: Shanti Nilayam (1969) borrowed the unsettling mysterious elements of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. (Suganthy Krishnamachari) Nuestra Emily Brontë es Carmen Laforet. Voy a ir una semana a Tenerife y decido leer “La isla y los demonios” de Laforet, que se desarrolla en Gran Canaria, pero habla de Tenerife. Dice que los demonios son las pasiones humanas, que son mucho más de siete. Y las pasiones constituyen a las personas y ayudan a conocerlas. Y forman parte de su vitalidad profunda, de su abismo. Lo mismo ocurría en “Cumbres borrascosas” y en las obras de Shakespeare. (...) [Nada] tenía una fuerza sorprendente en una novelista de veinte años. Lo mismo que “Cumbres borrascosas”, de Emily Brontë, que con veinte años parecía ya haberlo vivido todo y conocido todo. (...) El mismo estilo, sin florituras, pero expresivo y certero, contribuye a esa hondura de [La Isla y los demonios], a que la vivamos con fuerza y casi miedo como la de Emily Brontë. (...) No hay nada que Carmen Laforet escribiera por escribir o por predicar algo. E incluso el catolicismo que aparece en “La mujer nueva” es el catolicismo desgarrado y vivo de Georges Bernanos, no el de las estampitas. Y sobre todo Laforet tiene novelismo, en el sentido más noble del término. El que señala un romanticismo como expresionismo, como indagación en lo que la realidad convencional esconde. Las novelas hacen eso, y las de Carmen Laforet más que las otras. Igual que las de Emily Brontë. Incluso Charlotte Brontë, la hermana, que en “Jane Eyre” habla de una institutriz en apariencia convencional, tiene sus demonios. En el desván de su amante casado está la mujer loca en el desván. Esa mujer de las Antillas que enloqueció por las frialdades del marido inglés, o más bien la consideran loca porque no sigue la frialdad del montón. Jean Rhys en “Ancho mar de los Sargazos” cuenta la historia desde el punto de vista de la loca, una mujer que vibraba en las selvas y los acantilados de la isla Dominica y llega a los estiramientos de una familia británica. Emily Brontë era británica, pero con algo de Jean Rhys y de esa loca de los Sargazos. Y Carmen Laforet es española, pero tiene esos demonios encendidos y oscuros que pone en sus novelas. (Antonio Costa Gómez) (Translation)
Ranker has a list of fictional characters named Jane, and Jane Eyre (only) gets number 8. Good Housekeeping vindicates Wuthering Heights 2009. More Recent Articles
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