À travers le destin d’Antoinette Cosway, personnage de Jane Eyre – dont les initiales, J. E., résonnent dans le titre –, Lilia Hassaine explore les mécanismes de l’effacement, de l’enfermement et de la reconquête de soi. En Jamaïque, en 1831, Antoinette Cosway s’éprend d’Edward Rochester, mais l’élan amoureux cède peu à peu la place à la domination et à la violence. Celle que l’histoire a reléguée au silence entreprend alors de reprendre possession de son propre récit. Harper’s Bazaar : Quel a été le point de départ de JE ? Lilia Hassaine : J’ai découvert Jane Eyre de Charlotte Brontë à l’adolescence. À l’époque, j’y ai lu exactement ce qu’on m’avait appris à y voir : l’histoire d’amour entre une jeune orpheline devenue gouvernante et le maître du manoir anglais où elle travaille. Mais au moment du mariage, elle découvre qu’une femme est séquestrée dans ce manoir et que cet homme est déjà marié avec celle-ci. Lui affirme que son épouse est folle, dangereuse, qu’il l’a enfermée pour son propre bien ; en somme, il se présente comme la véritable victime de l’histoire. Et puis je l’ai relu il y a deux ans, et je n’ai pas lu le même livre. Mon regard de lectrice s’était complètement déplacé. H.B. : Dans quel sens ? L.H. : Je me suis demandé ce qui avait changé pour que je ne voie plus que cette femme, au point qu’elle devienne une obsession. Elle occupe très peu de place dans Jane Eyre. Elle est décrite comme une créature sauvage, menaçante, avec des traits qui relèvent parfois d’une représentation profondément marquée par les préjugés raciaux de l’époque. À la relecture, de nombreux éléments m’ont mise mal à l’aise. J’ai eu envie de comprendre cette femme, de lui redonner une histoire. Qu’avait-elle vécu avant d’être réduite à cette figure monstrueuse ? Cela a fait naître une autre réflexion. Si mon regard avait changé, c’était sans doute parce que mes propres expériences avaient transformé ma manière de lire. Mais ce déplacement tenait aussi à quelque chose de plus collectif : l’époque elle-même avait changé, et avec elle les questions que nous posons aux textes. H.B. : Vous écrivez : “Cette œuvre ne fut pas l’œuvre d’un seul homme ; il faut toute une société pour rendre possible une telle entreprise.” Cette phrase semble entrer en écho avec des réalités très actuelles. Aviez-vous cette dimension contemporaine en tête dès le début de l’écriture, ou s’est-elle imposée progressivement ? L.H. : Lorsque j’ai écrit JE, les affaires Bruel ou Lyhanna n’avaient pas encore éclaté, mais cette question me révoltait déjà. Pour moi, les affaires Epstein et toutes les autres n’ont jamais été des cas isolés : elles révèlent un problème systémique, profondément sociétal. On les a longtemps réduites à des histoires d’intimité, au nom de la vie privée, comme si s’y intéresser relevait de l’intrusion. Or c’est à l’échelle de la société qu’il faut penser ces violences. Elles ne peuvent exister sans une forme de complicité collective : il y a ceux qui savaient, ceux qui se sont tus, ceux qui ont préféré regarder ailleurs. Aujourd’hui, nous comprenons mieux certains mécanismes de ces violences, mais il reste beaucoup à faire. (Florine Delcourt) (Translation)
Collider has ranked 'The 10 Saddest Books of All Time' and Wuthering Heights makes it to #8. 8 'Wuthering Heights' (1847) Some people might try telling you that Wuthering Heights is a romantic novel, but sometimes, some people are wrong. There are feelings of longing and desire here, but the passionate stuff is also destructive, and Wuthering Heights is more focused on looking at the lingering effects of trauma, alongside exploring prejudice, class, inequality, and all sorts of other things that aren’t particularly romantic. There are some adaptations of Emily Brontë’s source material that lean into romance, or have things play out as a love story of a bittersweet nature, but in the book, there is not much love, traditional or otherwise. In its place, you do get a ton of sadness in Wuthering Heights, and it’s remarkable how much of that emotional devastation still packs a punch close to two centuries on from the novel’s publication. (Jeremy Urquhart)
A contributor to Her Campus suggests '10 Literary Halloween Costumes For The Book Lovers' and one of them is 9. Jane Eyre from Jane Eyre For those who want their Halloween costume to look like it belongs in a moody period drama, say hello to Jane Eyre. Jane’s wardrobe is understated, which actually makes this a pretty easy costume to recreate. Look for a long black, gray, or dark-colored dress with a high neckline and simple silhouette. Add a book, a ribbon, or an old-fashioned-looking bag, and you’re ready to wander around Halloween parties looking like you’ve just escaped Thornfield Hall. (Danielle Okogho)
And finally, an article on 'Why the rise of Christianity is not what you think' in The Critic begins as follows: As I stood, packed into a sea of commuters, a man in full tweed, thick-rimmed glasses and freshly polished brogues stepped onto the tube/bus beside me and pulled out a battered, Penguin vintage paperback. It could have been a novel such as Jane Eyre, but instead he pulled out the Holy Bible. (Iona Lowe)
From the Ivory Coast:
by Ouana Alassane Sekongo, University Félix Houphouët-Boigny, Côte d’Ivoire, Wandja Fatoumata Tuo, Université Alassane Ouattara, Côte d’Ivoire, Omar Ndiaye, Université Cheik Anta Diop, Sénégal, Ataféї Pewissi, Université de Lomé, Togo Revue Internationale de Linguistique Appliquée, de Littérature et d’Education, Volume 9 Numéro 2 – Juin 2026
This paper investigates the complex interplay between love, trauma and revenge in EmilyBrontë’s Wuthering Heights, focusing on the character of Heathcliff. It shows how desire forvengeance against the offenders intertwines with strong love. Through a psychoanalytic lens and close reading of the text, the investigation demonstrates that Heathcliff’s trauma and self-immolation – both emotionally and physically – serve as a manifestation of his obsessive longing for Catherine. Ultimately, the study found that revenge, rather thanbeing a mere act of malice, can be a misguided attempt to reclaim lost love, highlightingthe tragic consequences of intertwining passion with vengeance. It indicates thatvengeance against those who hate us does not attract human heart, but it only leads toone’s own destruction. Therefore, the article upholds that patience, redemption andmutual understanding remain the bedrocks of any truthful and lasting human relationship.
Many sites are featuring the premiere of Jane Eyre the Musical in London. From Playbill together with some new pictures: John Caird and Paul Gordon's 2000 musical version of Jane Eyre is getting a long-awaited U.K. debut at Southwark Playhouse Elephant, and Playbill has a first look at the new production. Performances began August 28 and continue through October 24. Opening night is September 8. (...) The new staging is co-directed by Caird (Les Misérables) and Megan McGinnis, reuniting after the latter starred in Caird's Daddy Long Legs musical. The production is being produced by Adam Blanshay Productions in partnership with the work's original Canadian producers, David and Hannah Mirvish. The cast is led by Charlie Burn as Jane and Ashley Gilmour as Rochester, with Claire Greenway as Abbot and Grace Poole; Melad Hamidi as St. John and Lord Ingram; Connor Wood as John Reed and Vicar; Jonathan Andrew Hume as Brocklehurst and Mason; Izzi Levine as Agnes, Leah, Jane's Mother, and Mary Ingram; Hannah Lindsey as Scatcherd and Bertha Mason; Isabelle Methven as Helen Burns and Bessie; Gemma Page as Reed and Fairfax; Eve Shanu-Wilson as Blanche and Sophie; and Poppy Jason and Emily-Rose Samuel as Young Jane and Adele. Casting is by Sarah-Jane Price. The musical premiered in Toronto in 1996, ultimately making it to Broadway in 2000, bringing Brontë's classic gothic romance to the world of musical theatre. The work would go on to earn five 2001 Tony Award nominations, including Best Musical. A starry concert production brought the musical back to NYC with a Manhattan Concert Productions performance at Lincoln Center's David Geffen Hall starring Erika Henningsen and Ramin Karimloo. News of this production also comes just after the launch of a new chamber revision of the musical with theatrical licensor Music Theatre International. Having premiered in 2024 at North Carolina's Theatre Raleigh with a smaller orchestration, reduced casting needs, and changes to the lyrics and book, this edition likely served as the basis for the U.K. premiere at the 310-seat venue. “I’m so pleased to have the opportunity to explore a new version of Jane Eyre in the beautifully intimate Southwark Playhouse Elephant," said Caird in an earlier statement. "It's always a pleasure to work on this timeless romance but all the more exciting to be collaborating with the brilliant and innovative Megan McGinnis as co-director." “Charlotte Brontë’s masterpiece is not only a landmark portrayal of a strong female protagonist, but a story that sends audiences out of the theatre feeling better about their own lives than when they walked in," added Gordon. The production features choreography by Georgina Lamb, music direction and supervision by Ben Kubiak, set and costume design by Morgan Large, sound design by Andrew Johnson, and lighting design by James Whiteside. (Logan Culwell-Block)
Manchester Evening News recommends an autumnal trip to Haworth by describing it as 'The 'witchy' Yorkshire village with cosy pubs and cafes that's straight out of Gilmore Girls, perfect for autumn', which seriously couldn't be sillier.
Glam features Charlotte Brontë and some quotes. Clara (Spain) recommends Wuthering Heights among other classic novels written by women. The Brontë Sisters UK posta a video sharing a walk across the windswept Haworth moors with her daughter and dogs, exploring why this wild landscape meant so much to the Brontë family.
A Bangladesh Brontë-related bachelor thesis: by Sajal Hossain Dhaly BRAC University 2026
The purpose of this research is to discern whether Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea and Abdulrazak Gurnah’s Paradise are “writing back” to the English and European colonial empires and their literary canons, specifically to Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre and Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. Foundational postcolonial literary theories from books and academic journals provide context to the efficacy of Rhys and Gurnah’s writing back: such as Edward Said’s Orientalism, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak’s idea of the Subaltern, and Homi K. Bhabha’s concept of mimicry. Furthermore, the research also relies on Chinua Achebe’s theory of abrogation and appropriation of the English language as a means of resistance and taking back agency by the colonised subjects. Upon assessing these books, book chapters, and articles, the research finds that Rhys and Gurnah are in fact not writing back to any colonial empire or writer; Rhys writes for a feminist Creole identity, and Gurnah writes to help establish the African literary tradition.
Hampshire Chronicle reviews Conn Artists' stage production of Jane Eyre at Theatre Royal Winchester. Bringing Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre to the stage is no easy feat, squeezing in all the twists and turns of the classic novel into something an audience can sit through in one evening. But Conn Artists Theatre Company's latest production at Theatre Royal Winchester offers an engaging retelling of one of literature's most enduring love stories. This adaptation remains faithful to the source material, following Jane's journey from an unhappy childhood to her employment as a governess at Thornfield Hall, where she meets the brooding and enigmatic Edward Rochester. The first half is a little slow-going as the production carefully establishes the characters and their relationships. While it takes time to build momentum, the groundwork pays off as the drama unfolds. After the interval, the pace quickens considerably, and the audience is drawn into a gothic tale packed with romance, secrets and heartbreak. Long-hidden truths emerge, relationships are tested, and emotions run high as the story races towards its dramatic conclusion. Evie Depledge delivers a convincing performance as Jane Eyre, capturing both the character's quiet determination and emotional strength. Ross Muir is equally compelling as Edward Rochester, bringing passion and intensity to the role while conveying the character's troubled past and inner conflict. The cast makes effective use of a relatively simple set, allowing the performances and storytelling to take centre stage. Atmospheric lighting and clever staging help create the moody gothic atmosphere that fans of the novel will recognise. The production reaches its peak during the fiery climax, with the drama surrounding Thornfield Hall providing some of the evening's most memorable moments. The final image of Jane and Rochester walking away together against the backdrop of a burning house is both striking and moving, bringing the story to a satisfying close. While the first half occasionally lacks urgency, the gripping second act more than makes up for it. With its mix of love, loss, twists and redemption, this production successfully brings a classic story to life for a modern audience. [...] For lovers of classic literature and period drama, this adaptation is well worth catching while it is on the road. (Kimberley Barber)
Dans son quatrième roman, Lilia Hassaine s’attaque à l’un des mythes de la littérature victorienne : Bertha Mason, l’épouse séquestrée d’Edward Rochester dans « Jane Eyre ». Un acte de réparation littéraire tout autant qu’une radioscopie de l’emprise conjugale. En 1847, Charlotte Brontë dessinait dans « Jane Eyre » les contours d’une créature terrifiante : la « folle du grenier ». Tapie dans l’ombre du manoir de Thornfield Hall, Bertha Mason incarnait l’obstacle à la romance de l’héroïne. Un siècle plus tard, en 1966, Jean Rhys accomplissait un premier geste d’affranchissement avec « La Prisonnière des Sargasses », en restituant son nom créole – Antoinette Cosway – et en retraçant son enfance jamaïcaine ainsi que son déracinement. Lilia Hassaine choisit, quant à elle, de s’immerger au cœur de la matrice du drame : la relation avec Rochester et la mécanique du dessaisissement de soi. Bien plus qu’une simple relecture d’un classique, « Je » offre une subtile analyse de l’emprise et du « gaslighting ». Le récit s’ouvre en Jamaïque, alors que l’esclavage touche à sa fin. Antoinette y croise d’abord le regard d’Edward Rochester. Lors d’un bal en 1831, une scène de séduction à la sensualité maîtrisée scelle le piège. Le futur maître de Thornfield lui offre une part de gâteau au citron : « J’ouvris les lèvres. N’opposais aucune résistance. Le glaçage fondit sur ma langue, sucré, acide, et pour la première fois je vis Edward, le visage nu, dépouillé de son masque sévère. » L’attirance des corps fait vite place à la jalousie, la possession, puis au mépris. Le premier meurtre est de nature symbolique. En rentrant en Angleterre, Rochester lui confisque son nom : « Le dépouillement patronymique constitue le premier acte d’effacement : en rebaptisant arbitrairement son épouse Bertha, le maître des lieux lui retire son ancrage créole pour la réduire au silence. » Rochester ne se contente pas d’enfermer son épouse : il détruit patiemment son assise identitaire. Le doute inoculé finit par dissoudre toute certitude intime. Lilia Hassaine montre avec une acuité toute contemporaine les ressorts de la manipulation mentale. Le véritable effroi ne provient pas tant de la séquestration physique que du silence complice de la communauté. De la haute société coloniale jusqu’à la domesticité anglaise, chacun observe, se tait et valide l’arbitraire sous couvert de préservation des convenances. La violence apparaît alors dans toute sa dimension systémique : elle repose sur l’indifférence collective. [...] Lilia Hassaine confirme son talent de romancière par sa calme maîtrise des phrases, tantôt doucement poétiques, tantôt couperets, comme mimétiques d’un étouffement progressif. Un roman qui se lit d’une traite, solidement structuré, fort et obsédant. Le lecteur, avide, est happé dans l’engrenage. L’une des grandes réussites de la rentrée qui devrait séduire autant le public que les jurés des prix littéraires. (Translation)
And France 24 talked to Lilia Hassaine about it.
Tech Times claims that ' Wuthering Heights: House of the Damned Asks What Science Still Cannot Answer'. Saban Films released the first trailer for Wuthering Heights: House of the Damned on September 1, 2026, ahead of its October 16 VOD and digital debut — a horror adaptation that strips Emily Brontë's 1847 novel of all romantic ambiguity and replaces it with a literal agenda: ritual murder, a ghost that hungers for a living body, and a visitor who slowly loses his mind. The film arrives in a specific scientific moment. A peer-reviewed study published in Frontiers in Behavioral Neuroscience in April 2026 confirmed that infrasound — sound below human hearing — raises cortisol levels and shifts mood, offering a plausible psychoacoustic mechanism for exactly the kind of environmental deterioration the film dramatizes. Meanwhile, the State of Brain Emulation Report 2025 concluded that the question of whether consciousness can survive substrate transfer — whether a person can truly migrate from one body to another — remains unanswered, with a minimum of thirty to forty years of research still needed. Gothic horror has always been the cultural form we use to hold open questions that philosophy and science haven't closed. In 2026, the specific questions House of the Damned dramatizes are being asked in actual laboratories, and the answers are not in yet. (...) Wuthering Heights: House of the Damned is the first entry in a planned slate of literary horror adaptations called "Gowns and Gore," produced by ScaryContent at the 2025 AFM (Munich/Los Angeles) and distributed by Saban Films. Director Becca Hirani — also credited as Rebecca J. Matthews — and screenwriter Liana Failla keep the novel's skeleton but literalize everything Brontë left ambiguous. In Brontë's original, Catherine's ghost appears to Lockwood in Chapter 3, her child-hand clawing at the frosted window — a single unnerving scene that the novel never fully explains. In Hirani's version, that ambiguity becomes an engine. Catherine's ghost is not incidental to the story; she is its driving force, and Heathcliff is her instrument. Can Consciousness Migrate? Gothic Horror's Central Question Is Now a Research Program Heathcliff is not mourning Catherine. He is running what the film's synopsis describes as a deliberate operation: feeding her ghost enough "bloodlust" through human sacrifice to accumulate the force necessary for her to occupy Lockwood's living body. This is soul transference treated as a directed technical project — with a goal, a method, and a willing technician. The question of whether consciousness can transfer between substrates is among the most actively contested in contemporary neuroscience. The State of Brain Emulation Report 2025, authored by Zanichelli et al. and released on arXiv (2510.15745), assessed twenty years of progress in three areas — neural recording, brain structure mapping, and computational modeling — and found that the field has advanced substantially while remaining at least thirty to forty years from human-scale application. Near-complete connectomes now exist for zebrafish larvae and fruit flies. For humans, the gap is measured in orders of magnitude: human brains contain roughly one hundred billion neurons; current technology can simultaneously monitor thousands. The deeper problem is not scale but continuity. Even if a complete brain scan were possible, the "continuity problem" remains unresolved: would the entity instantiated on a new substrate be the original person, or a copy who merely believes they are? This is precisely the philosophical question Brontë staged in her novel, and precisely the question that makes Heathcliff's project horrifying rather than tender. He is attempting a transfer whose success cannot be verified from the inside. What Is the Real Science Behind Haunted Houses? Lockwood's trajectory in the film — progressive illness, delusion, altered perception — maps onto a well-documented real-world phenomenon that psychologists and neuroscientists have studied with increasing rigor. [...] Gothic Literature as Cultural Technology: Why Brontë Wrote This Story in 1847 The literary scholar Jerrold E. Hogle, in the Cambridge Companion to Gothic Fiction, identifies a defining structural feature of the genre: the depiction of horrifying events in Gothic fiction "often serves as a metaphorical expression of psychological or social conflicts." Gothic is not escapism. It is the cultural form human societies have repeatedly reached for when they need to express something that cannot be stated in ordinary social registers. Ellen Moers coined the term "Female Gothic" in her 1976 study Literary Women, specifically identifying Brontë's Wuthering Heights as a prime example of Gothic fiction deployed to give form to female experience that Victorian propriety made unspeakable. Moers argued that Catherine's love for Heathcliff should be understood as an expression of pre-adolescent freedom and erotic attachment that the social architecture of 19th-century England had no legitimate channel for. The Gothic frame is what allowed Brontë to depict this love at all — and to show its consequences — without either endorsing or condemning it. The horror is the form the truth takes. Emily Brontë wrote her novel under the pseudonym Ellis Bell — a woman writing in an era when female authorship faced institutional skepticism — and the Yorkshire moors she depicted were her actual environment, not metaphor. Scholar Carol Senf has argued that Gothic literature "was a counterbalance produced by writers and thinkers who felt limited by [a confident rationalist worldview] and recognized that the power of the past, the irrational, and the violent continue to sway in the world." House of the Damned sits within a contemporary tradition that film scholar David Church, in Post-Horror: Art, Genre and Cultural Elevation, describes as merging "art-cinema style with decentered genre tropes, privileging lingering dread and visual restraint over audiovisual shocks and monstrous disgust" — though ScaryContent's own "Gowns and Gore" branding suggests a franker relationship with spectacle. The production company describes its slate as the systematic literalization of the darkest energies inside canonical 19th-century novels. House of the Damned is the argument that what was always inside Brontë was horror — that the Gothic frame was not decoration but container, and that the film is showing what happens when you take the lid off. The film was produced in the Yorkshire region near the actual moorland landscape that inspired Brontë — a production choice that activates what theorists of place call geopoetic memory: a site-specific emotional charge accumulated through repeated cultural inscription. Filming on these moors does not merely provide scenic authenticity. It claims the location's cultural inheritance. [...] Is Wuthering Heights Actually a Horror Story? This question has a serious scholarly answer. Feminist critic Ellen Moers specifically noted in her foundational analysis that the novel's early readers were struck by what The Athenaeum called "shocking pictures of the worst forms of humanity" and details of "cruelty, inhumanity, and the most diabolical hate and vengeance." Charlotte Brontë, in her posthumous 1850 preface to her sister's novel, asked apologetically: "Whether it is right or advisable to create things like Heathcliff, I do not know." The Gothic genre, as classified in the Cambridge Companion to Gothic Fiction, is characterized precisely by "an environment of fear, the threat of supernatural events, and the intrusion of the past upon the present" — all features of Brontë's novel. The word "wuthering" is etymologically a weather-descriptor: the house itself is defined by atmospheric violence. The ghost of Catherine appears in Chapter 3. Heathcliff's obsession leads to neglect, abuse, and multiple deaths across two generations. What House of the Damned does is answer the Gothic's central withheld question — is the supernatural real? — in a way Brontë deliberately refused to answer. It is not a corruption of the novel. It is a choice to close what Brontë left open. (Maxwell Templeton)
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