Oh, Heathcliff!
Oh! The life of a spinster lady novelist.
Returning from an epic run on the Heath in a last-ditch attempt to firm up thighs before impending bikini debut on Caribbean beach my thoughts naturally turn to those other writerly vicar's daughters, the Brontes.
Pulling an edition of the girls' letters from my bookshelves, I find an account of a shopping trip. Charlotte reported it thus:
'Tempted by the colours of some beautiful silks, I had not the spirit nor the means to launch out at the rate of five shillings per yard, and went and bought a black silk at three shillings after all. I rather regret this.'
Emily, on the other hand chose a fabric 'patterned with lilac thunder and lightning, to the scarcly concealed horror of her more sober companions.'
Returning from an epic run on the Heath in a last-ditch attempt to firm up thighs before impending bikini debut on Caribbean beach my thoughts naturally turn to those other writerly vicar's daughters, the Brontes.
Pulling an edition of the girls' letters from my bookshelves, I find an account of a shopping trip. Charlotte reported it thus:
'Tempted by the colours of some beautiful silks, I had not the spirit nor the means to launch out at the rate of five shillings per yard, and went and bought a black silk at three shillings after all. I rather regret this.'
Emily, on the other hand chose a fabric 'patterned with lilac thunder and lightning, to the scarcly concealed horror of her more sober companions.'
posted by Lady V at 12:32 pm
7 Comments:
i insist we go by bronte tots from now on. em one and two. no one wants to be charlotte. let's take up knitting. and wearing hair in bun. bodice ripping all round.
Hurrah! And Tot A can be Branwell. Er....
no one must be charlotte.
that cheap. talentless bitch. to thid day, when i think that she tampered with emily's writing and edited her poems. the GALL!
what travesty.
well it makes me livid.
yes. branwell indeed. once he was gone it was all over and they all died in swift succession.
apart from charlotte the cow
Well there's no point living without your partners in crime, is there?
Shag Emily and Branwell
Marry Anne
Ditch Charlotte
Errrrrr...
Did any of you Brontë sisters bother checking what Branwell looked like? Uhm? ANY OF YOU?
Well I think NOT:
http://bjtanke.com/Bronte/Branwell-1.jpg
I am livid.
He's a ginger. You love gingers. And if we're going to be literal about it, how much do Tot F and I resemble those utterly barren spinster. Uh? Uh? Poetic license, please!
hear hear! which is where cinema steps in. and we can reincarnate their alter egos on screen.
emily aka isabella adjani. the resembling to us is striking.
branwell aka pascal greggory. perfectly shaggable in his hey day.
erm. he was the cuckold husband in the the page turner by the way.
ho hum. yes. moving on.
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