Skip to main content

The Brontës – What’s Up With Them?


You’re a 20something girl who says she likes to read. Maybe you majored in English and’re now working in a completely unrelated field, because honestly, what real use is it being an English major? The point is, chances are you’ve read books by at least two of the three Brontë sisters who made it to mature adulthood. That family reminds me of sea turtles. Sea turtles lay a bunch of eggs because they know that not many of them’re gonna make it, what with crafty seagulls and other seashore animals I’m not going to research right now pilfering their eggs or eating the babies as they try to scurry to the ocean. According to Wikipedia, which I just accessed (and which confirms my seagull idea), approximately one sea turtle out of a hundred survives.

The Brontë parents started out with six children. Maria, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Branwell, Emily and Anne. I would like to point out that they were born between 1814 and 1820, making their mother a saint and their father the devil (nah, he was supposed to be a nice guy). Oh, and the only reason they stopped having children every year is that she died in 1821. 19th century, you suck.

Charlotte, who I probably don’t need to point out is the author of Jane Eyre, lived the longest, which was to 39. 39. Poor little human sea turtle. I mean, there the similarity actually ends, I guess, because the cool thing about being the one sea turtle in a hundred to survive is that you live a fricking LONG time, and get to say “Screw you, seagull who ate my brother! Tonight you dine in hell!”

I assume he says this to the corpse of the seagull, who probably died of old age because the average lifespan of a seagull is 40 years, but a green sea turtle’s is 80 years. So he can wait him out.

I explained this comparative situation of the Literary Family of Yorkshire vs. the Majestic Sea Turtle to the sassy FedEx lady who delivers here (her name is Nina) and her only comment was “The turtles are in better shape than the Brontës.” So there we have it. Sea turtles pwn Brontës. I should make a graphic of that. In fact, BAM:




Basically what I’m saying is there was something weird going on with the Brontës. The two oldest died first, which I guess you would maybe expect in a family, only the first was 11 when she died, and the next was 10. Branwell, the alcoholic only son, died the same year Emily did, and they were swiftly followed by Anne. Charlotte lasted six years after that until she reached the aforementioned lofty age of 39.

I’m not solving any historical riddles here, obviously. I just find the Brontës weird and wanted to note that down somewhere. People have analyzed their books to death and I’m not going to add one more voice to that multitude. But I will compare them to aquatic animals. Also, I hate Wuthering Heights.

Comments

  1. The delivery people to your building must feel so special.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I haven't told her yet that she was mentioned. That'll be a happy Monday surprise.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I love Wuthering Heights and I would drink, too, if my name were Branwell.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love this and I love your writing style. :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Harry Potter 2013 Readalong Signup Post of Amazingness and Jollity

Okay, people. Here it is. Where you sign up to read the entire Harry Potter series (or to reminisce fondly), starting January 2013, assuming we all survive the Mayan apocalypse. I don't think I'm even going to get to Tina and Bette's reunion on The L Word until after Christmas, so here's hopin'. You guys know how this works. Sign up if you want to. If you're new to the blog, know that we are mostly not going to take this seriously. And when we do take it seriously, it's going to be all Monty Python quotes when we disagree on something like the other person's opinion on Draco Malfoy. So be prepared for your parents being likened to hamsters. If you want to write lengthy, heartfelt essays, that is SWELL. But this is maybe not the readalong for you. It's gonna be more posts with this sort of thing: We're starting Sorceror's/Philosopher's Stone January 4th. Posts will be on Fridays. The first post will be some sort of hilar

Minithon: The Mini Readathon, January 11th, 2020

The minithon is upon us once more! Minithons are for the lazy. Minithons are for the uncommitted. Minithons are for us. The minithon lasts 6 hours (10 AM to 4 PM CST), therefore making it a mini readathon, as opposed to the lovely Dewey's 24 Hour Readathon and 24in48, both of which you should participate in, but both of which are a longer commitment than this, the Busy Watching Netflix person's readathon. By 'read for six hours' what's really meant in the minithon is "read a little bit and eat a lot of snacks and post pictures of your books and your snacks, but mostly your snacks." We like to keep it a mini theme here, which mainly means justifying your books and your snacks to fit that theme. Does your book have children in it? Mini people! Does it have a dog! Mini wolf! Does it have pencils? Mini versions of graphite mines! or however you get graphite, I don't really know. I just picture toiling miners. The point is, justify it or don't

How to Build a Girl Introductory Post, which is full of wonderful things you probably want to read

Acclaimed (in England mostly) lady Caitlin Moran has a novel coming out. A NOVEL. Where before she has primarily stuck to essays. Curious as we obviously were about this, I and a group of bloggers are having a READALONG of said novel, probably rife with spoilers (maybe they don't really matter for this book, though, so you should totally still read my posts). This is all hosted/cared for/lovingly nursed to health by Emily at As the Crowe Flies (and Reads) because she has a lovely fancy job at an actual bookshop ( Odyssey Books , where you can in fact pre-order this book and then feel delightful about yourself for helping an independent store). Emily and I have negotiated the wonders of Sri Lankan cuisine and wandered the Javits Center together. Would that I could drink with her more often than I have. I feel like we could get to this point, Emily INTRODUCTION-wise (I might've tipped back a little something this evening, thus the constant asides), I am Alice. I enjoy