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baldwig's review against another edition
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
The Life of Charlotte Bronte by Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell The 4
• Another excellent non-fiction recommendation from Steve Donoghue. The Life of Charlotte Bronte adds more to an already great Jane Eyre. I look forward to reading more of this author, her subject, as well as her sisters.
• "I can be on my guard against my enemies, but God deliver me from my friends!" --Currer Bell
• orthography- speliing
obviate- to anticipate and prevent (as a situation) or make unnecessary (as an action)
governness- a woman who teaches and trains a child esp in a private home
consumption- 1 progressive bodily wasting away; also : tuberculosis
tractable- easily controlled : docile • synonyms amenable, obedient, biddable
curate-1 a member of the clergy who is in charge of a parish 2 a member of the clergy who assists a rector or vicar
"in (Patrick Bronte's) cure"
probity- uprightness, honesty
• "the wholesome restriction of poverty"
• "Miss Bronte's inexperience to the ways of the world, and willing deference to opinions of others"
• coterie- an intimate often exclusive group of persons with a common interest
approbation- approval
reprobation- strong disapproval : condemnation
• Name game: Curer, cure, curate Currer's pealing Bell in 'his' parsonage tower.
• consonant- having consonance, agreement or harmony • synonyms consistent, compatible, congruous, congenial, sympathetic
• rectitude- 1 moral integrity 2 correctness of procedure • synonyme vitue, goodness, morality, probity
• "he who shuns suffering will never win victory"
• indite- compose (~ a poem); also : to put in writing (~ a letter)
• felicity- great happiness
• "grief is a two-edged sword, it cuts both ways; the memory of one loss is the anticipation of another"
• "I liked Hazlitt's Essays much."
• trumpery- 1 nonsense 2 trivial articles : junk
• "The moral of it is, that if we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love our friends for THEIR sakes rather than for OUR OWN; we must look at their truth to THEMSELVES, full as much as their truth to US."
• errata- a list of corrigenda (plural of corrigendum)
corrigendum- an error in a printed work discovered after printing and shown with its corrections on a seperate sheet
corrigible- correctable
• Miss Bronte "had learned to magnify the meaning of trifles, as do all who live a self-contained and solitary life."
• gibbet- gallows
• "To shun examination into the dangerous and disagreable seems to me cowardly."
• ""Equity demands that you should be your own interpreter."
The courage to change what we can, the serenity to accept what we cannot and the wisdom to know the difference.
• Last paragraph, "But I turn from the critical, unsympathetic public—inclined to judge harshly because they have only seen superficially and not thought deeply. I appeal to that larger and more solemn public, who know how to look with tender humility at faults and errors; how to admire generously extraordinary genius, and how to reverence with warm, full hearts all noble virtue. To that Public I commit the memory of Charlotte Brontë."
• Another excellent non-fiction recommendation from Steve Donoghue. The Life of Charlotte Bronte adds more to an already great Jane Eyre. I look forward to reading more of this author, her subject, as well as her sisters.
• "I can be on my guard against my enemies, but God deliver me from my friends!" --Currer Bell
• orthography- speliing
obviate- to anticipate and prevent (as a situation) or make unnecessary (as an action)
governness- a woman who teaches and trains a child esp in a private home
consumption- 1 progressive bodily wasting away; also : tuberculosis
tractable- easily controlled : docile • synonyms amenable, obedient, biddable
curate-1 a member of the clergy who is in charge of a parish 2 a member of the clergy who assists a rector or vicar
"in (Patrick Bronte's) cure"
probity- uprightness, honesty
• "the wholesome restriction of poverty"
• "Miss Bronte's inexperience to the ways of the world, and willing deference to opinions of others"
• coterie- an intimate often exclusive group of persons with a common interest
approbation- approval
reprobation- strong disapproval : condemnation
• Name game: Curer, cure, curate Currer's pealing Bell in 'his' parsonage tower.
• consonant- having consonance, agreement or harmony • synonyms consistent, compatible, congruous, congenial, sympathetic
• rectitude- 1 moral integrity 2 correctness of procedure • synonyme vitue, goodness, morality, probity
• "he who shuns suffering will never win victory"
• indite- compose (~ a poem); also : to put in writing (~ a letter)
• felicity- great happiness
• "grief is a two-edged sword, it cuts both ways; the memory of one loss is the anticipation of another"
• "I liked Hazlitt's Essays much."
• trumpery- 1 nonsense 2 trivial articles : junk
• "The moral of it is, that if we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love our friends for THEIR sakes rather than for OUR OWN; we must look at their truth to THEMSELVES, full as much as their truth to US."
• errata- a list of corrigenda (plural of corrigendum)
corrigendum- an error in a printed work discovered after printing and shown with its corrections on a seperate sheet
corrigible- correctable
• Miss Bronte "had learned to magnify the meaning of trifles, as do all who live a self-contained and solitary life."
• gibbet- gallows
• "To shun examination into the dangerous and disagreable seems to me cowardly."
• ""Equity demands that you should be your own interpreter."
The courage to change what we can, the serenity to accept what we cannot and the wisdom to know the difference.
• Last paragraph, "But I turn from the critical, unsympathetic public—inclined to judge harshly because they have only seen superficially and not thought deeply. I appeal to that larger and more solemn public, who know how to look with tender humility at faults and errors; how to admire generously extraordinary genius, and how to reverence with warm, full hearts all noble virtue. To that Public I commit the memory of Charlotte Brontë."
bustyphillips's review against another edition
2.0
How this book made it onto The Guardian's 100 best nonfiction books ever list in 2017 is truly beyond me. At times beautiful but mostly boring and painful.
devontrevarrowflaherty's review against another edition
4.0
The Life of Charlotte Bronte, by Elizabeth Gaskell. First published in 1857 in two volumes. The version I read, bought gently used, is the 2005 Barnes & Noble Classics edition.
I read this book for two reasons: one, I am in the middle of a Bronte project for Owl and Zebra Press, and two, it is on the Best Books list, both in general and in biography. It is considered either the best or one of the best biographies ever written.
So let’s start there. Why is this one of the best biographies ever written? There are several reasons that present themselves. Gaskell started with an interesting life, a life that is still interesting 120 years later. It’s the reason I couldn’t wait to read the book: a small, pastor’s family of mostly girls, in the middle of nowhere but with very high levels of genius, dying off one by one until only the father had made it to age 40. Meanwhile, the three girls who made it to adulthood whipped off novels before their untimely deaths–novels that would be acknowledged as some of the best ever written. Intriguing. Also, it never hurt Gaskell that not only Bronte was famous at the time of her death, but that Gaskell was also famous. (At time time, Gaskell was even more famous.) Now, however, critics like to point more to the sensitivity of Gaskell’s biography, which I think refers to its humanity. Gaskell handles Bronte’s life with kid gloves, yet–for the time, at least–does not shy away from all the facts. (We’ll talk more about this later.) Also, it would take a great writer to write such a great biography, right? I would argue that much of the charm of the book comes from Bronte herself. Gaskell composed most of the book by lifting Bronte’s own letters, letting Bronte speak for herself and effectively shrouding the whole book in Bronte’s literary charms and talents. I would say that the style comes off as more Bronte’s than Gaskell’s. In fact, when we are pulled for long from the Bronte letters, we are lifted from the flow and a little disappointed at the disintegration of the literary spell.
It probably didn’t hurt, either, that Gaskell was threatened with a high profile libel suit as soon as the book hit the shelves. In the book, Gaskell obliquely (read: Victorian style) accuses a Lady of England of an affair (of unknown nature) with the Bronte son. And, ultimately, unwitting murder. The Lady had a fit and managed to have all copies pulled from sale and the book re-issued with omissions. Thankfully, our current copies are the original.
As for the rest of the history, it is this: Charlotte Bronte was born the third-eldest daughter in a family of six. Her father was a pastor and moved his young family to the far-North moors of England, to a small, isolated village, where her mother quickly died. Her aunt came to raise the children (but would die before they became writers), and Mr. Bronte realized his children’s genius–especially his son’s–and sought an education for them. Through a series of boarding schools and then stints as governesses and teachers, two sisters perished and three emerged into adulthood intensely shy and religious and weak in body. As a way to escape governessing, Bronte published a book of the three sisters’ poetry and they took on male nom de plumes and wrote their first novels. In a relatively short span of time, the sister’s became famous, the Bronte son drank himself to death (after a public exposure of his affair/obsession with his employer’s wife), and the two remaining sisters died. After Charlotte’s brief marriage and untimely death, the novelist Elizabeth Gaskell–a newer friend of Bronte’s–rushed to gather letters and interview, writing The Life of Charlotte Bronte rather quickly. These are the bones of the story, the story that would lead to Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, and five other novels. As for anything more, you can read the book and see.
As for the book as a piece of literature, it is okay. In fact, it’s so okay that you rarely remember that you are reading; you’re just flawlessly lifted from you life and the language is smooth and unobtrusive. As I mentioned above, the bulk of the text comes from letters and most of those letters written by Charlotte Bronte, therefore the tone is largely Bronte’s conversational tone. It’s quite pleasant, and while Gaskell is sort of telling me one thing about Bronte, I am reading something else in the character of her letters. Nearing the end, the book drags on, and I lost interest when Gaskell included all those letters from Bronte discussing the literature and literary news of their times. It was a mistake to veer from Bronte’s more personal revelations, but I am guessing that Gaskell had scant else to go on during this period. It makes me wonder if the tale should have been told in a less chronological way, at least as far as the letters go.
Speaking of dragging on, I know that she claims having left out many letters, but it felt like Gaskell included too much. In other words, the book easily could have been streamlined and still said the same thing. Time after time, we see letters revealing to us the same things about Bronte, over and over. Gaskell herself is guilty of repeating things, driving home her points with the ring of a hammer on a stake.
On the other hand, she left important things out, thanks to her Victorian sensibilities. Those Victorians were strange people. What could and couldn’t be said created a web of deception and revelation that is difficult to comprehend at this distance. For example, Gaskell can not say, “Bronte was pregnant when she died.” She can also not mention what happened with the baby or how far along Bronte was. Actually, she probably didn’t know, because Bronte herself never could have said. The history of the Brontes includes many incidences where we are required to read between the lines or, in the worst cases, wonder longingly at a pale space between facts.
But beyond her very Victorian omissions, one can’t help feel that Gaskell had but one lens through which she saw Charlotte, and it is applied completely and thickly. I have no doubt that Bronte struggled with homesickness, sickliness, and possible depression, but Gaskell lays it on so thick that we don’t get the part of Bronte that shines through her letters: the wit, sarcasm, humor, and even happiness. Personally, it really seems that Bronte herself perpetuated the impression others would have of her physical weakness, her helplessness, her depression (through classic negativity)… yet she was clearly also strong, capable, smart, and at times deeply satisfied. Just like all of us, Bronte and Gaskell saw herself/her one way, while the reality was much more complex and subtle. And, as is always the case, Bronte becomes to us a sort of collage of a dozen memorable and iconic moments: the Bronte children receiving their box of wooden soldiers; little Charlotte lost in absorption of the political news; Emily on the moors with her faithful dog; Anne toiling as a governess with her head bent is submission; the three girls walking the parlour in the dark of night, discussing their writing; the near-empty house in the middle of the graveyard.
At any rate, I loved reading this biography for its revelation of the writing life. I would say “writing life in Victorian times,” but I find that not much is different between Bronte’s being a writer and my being a writer. For more on reading The Life as a writer, see my blog HERE.
So, yeah, I recommend it, but it can get long and dry at times. And I strongly suggest that you take anything Gaskell says with a grain of salt: she was, after all, a famous woman rushing to write the definitive biography on another famous person, one whom she had known only for a limited time. I’m not saying Gaskell’s motives or knowledge were bad, just that they were–like all of ours–mixed and not crystal clear.
I’m sure there are more modern biographies that are more entertaining, but this one is surely worth reading, especially if you enjoy biographies, love the Brontes, or are writing biographies of your own.
_______________
There must have been biographical snippets on TV here and there, about Charlotte Bronte, but I don’t know how to find them. The BBC announced their intention of making a drama about the lives of the Brontes, last May. They have not said much more than who will write, direct, and generally where the filming will take place. Also, casting was happening way back in May. Waiting for more information. There’s also a highly fictionalized film, Devotion, from 1946.
_______________
“My heart is a very hot-bed for sinful thoughts, and when I decide on an action I scarcely remember to look to my Redeemer for direction. I know not how to pray; I cannot bend my life to the grand end of doing good; I go on constantly seeking my own pleasure” (p127).
“I recollected the fable of the willow and the oak; I bent quietly, and now, I trust, the storm is blowing over me” (p138).
“I think, if you can respect a person before marriage, moderate love at least will come after; and as to intense passion, I am convinced that that is no desirable feeling” (p151).
“This made it possible for her to go through long and deep histories of feeling and imagination, for which others, odd as it sounds, have rarely time” (p157).
“I am a fool. Heaven knows I cannot help it!” (p159).
“…but, God knows, I have enough to do to keep a good heart in the matter” (p159).
“I find it is not in my nature to get along in this weary world without sympathy and attachment in some quarter; and seldom indeed do we find it” (p160).
“As to getting into debt, that is a thing we could none of us reconcile our minds to for a moment” (p162).
“…but when you have thrown the reins on the neck of your imagination, do not pull her up to reason” (p183).
“All this, looked upon as a well-invented fiction in Shirley, was written down by Charlotte with streaming eyes; it was the literal true account of what Emily had done” (p211).
“Do not condemn yourself to live only be halves” (p220).
“You thought I refused you coldly, did you? It was a queer sort of coldness, when I would have given my ears to say Yes, and I was obliged to say No” (221).
“I must remember perfection is not the lot of humanity; and as long as we can regard those we love, and to whom we are closely allied, with profound and never-shaken esteem, it is a small thing that they should vex us occasionally by what appear to us unreasonable and headstrong notions” (p231).
“[Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell] stole into life; some weeks passed over, without the mighty murmuring public discovering that three more voices were uttering their speech” (p236).
“…nor will you be praised and admired for remaining at home to comfort your mother; yet, probably, your own conscience will approve, and if it does, stay with her” (p237).
“If you see any honey, gather it” (p250).
“…yet she must not shrink from the extra responsibility implied by the very fact of her possessing such talents” (p273).
“‘The pomp and circumstance of war’ have quite lost in my eyes their fictitious glitter” (p279).
“I have now outlived youth; and, though I dare not say that I have outlived all its illusions…” (p279).
“When people belong to a clique, they must, I suppose, in some measure, write, talk, think, and live for that clique; a harassing and narrowing necessity” (p278).
“Till the last hour comes, we never know how much we can forgive, pity, regret” (p290).
“Fortitude is good; but fortitude itself must be shaken under us to teach us how weak we are” (p301).
“…before ‘the desk was closed, and the pen laid aside forever'” (p304).
“But, Lord, whatever be my fate, / Oh let me serve Thee now!” (p305).
“I do not now how life will pass, but I certainly do feel confidence in Him who has upheld me hitherto” (p313).
“Solitude, Remembrance, and Longing are to be almost my sole companions all the day through–that at night I shall go to bed with them” (p313).
“But crushed I am not, yet; nor robbed of elasticity, nor of hope, nor quite of endeavor” (p313).
“The strength, if strength we have, is certainly never in our own selves; it is given us” (p319).
“The two human beings who understood me, and whom I understood, are gone” (p320).
“…it is for me a part of my religion to defend this gift, and to profit by its possessions” (p320).
“That matters little. My own conscience I satisfy first” (p326).
“…it is so bad for the mind to be quite alone, and to have none with whom to talk over little crosses and disappointments” (p336).
“Thackeray still proves himself greater when he is weary than other writers are when they are fresh” (p340).
“Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste” (p341).
“…if I knew all that was coming, it would be comparatively flat. I would much rather not know” (p341).
“…she only grieves that a mind of which this is the emanation, should be kept crushed by the leaded hand of poverty” (p342).
“Some people’s natures are veritable enigmas: I quite expected to have had one good scene at least with him; but as yet nothing of the sort has occurred” (p342).
“…but he who shuns suffering will never win victory” (p343).
“Youth has its romance, and maturity its wisdom, as morning and spring have their freshness, noon and summer their power, night and winter their repose. Each attribute is goof in its own season” (p346),
“…that is to say, the excuses were often worse than the crime itself” (p347).
“…but I think grief is a two-edged sword, it cuts both ways; the memory of one loss is the anticipation of another” (p352).
“…’enough,’ the proverb says, ‘is as good as a feast'” (p358).
“Sunday–yesterday–was a day to be marked with a white stone” (p381).
“Who has the words at the right moment?” (p382).
“…we must love our friends for their sakes rather than for our own” (p387).
“…it is better to be worn our with work in a thronged community, than to perish f inaction in a stagnant solitude” (p388).
“…it is good to be attracted outside of ourselves–to be forced to take a near view of the sufferings, the privations, the efforts, the difficulties of others” (p393).
“If, on the other hand, we be contending with the special grief,–the intimate trial,–the peculiar bitterness with which God has seen fit to mingle our own cup of existence,–it is very good to know that our overcast lot is not singular …. there are countless afflictions in the world, each perhaps rivaling–some surpassing–the private pain …. a thorn in the flesh for each; some burden, some conflict for all” (p393).
“‘…marriage might be defined as the state of two-fold selfishness'” (p407).
“Submission, courage, exertion, when practicable,–these seem to be the weapons with which we must fight life’s long battle” (p410).
“…my palette affords no brighter tints; were I to attempt to deepen the reds, or burnish the yellows, I should by botch” (p416).
“I might explain away a few other points, but it would be too much like drawing a picture and then writing underneath the name of the object intended to be represented” (p416).
“The longer I live, the more plainly I see that gentle must be the strain on fragile human nature; it will not bear much” (p424).
***REVIEW WRITTEN FOR THE DEVON TREVARROW FLAHERTY BLOG***
I read this book for two reasons: one, I am in the middle of a Bronte project for Owl and Zebra Press, and two, it is on the Best Books list, both in general and in biography. It is considered either the best or one of the best biographies ever written.
So let’s start there. Why is this one of the best biographies ever written? There are several reasons that present themselves. Gaskell started with an interesting life, a life that is still interesting 120 years later. It’s the reason I couldn’t wait to read the book: a small, pastor’s family of mostly girls, in the middle of nowhere but with very high levels of genius, dying off one by one until only the father had made it to age 40. Meanwhile, the three girls who made it to adulthood whipped off novels before their untimely deaths–novels that would be acknowledged as some of the best ever written. Intriguing. Also, it never hurt Gaskell that not only Bronte was famous at the time of her death, but that Gaskell was also famous. (At time time, Gaskell was even more famous.) Now, however, critics like to point more to the sensitivity of Gaskell’s biography, which I think refers to its humanity. Gaskell handles Bronte’s life with kid gloves, yet–for the time, at least–does not shy away from all the facts. (We’ll talk more about this later.) Also, it would take a great writer to write such a great biography, right? I would argue that much of the charm of the book comes from Bronte herself. Gaskell composed most of the book by lifting Bronte’s own letters, letting Bronte speak for herself and effectively shrouding the whole book in Bronte’s literary charms and talents. I would say that the style comes off as more Bronte’s than Gaskell’s. In fact, when we are pulled for long from the Bronte letters, we are lifted from the flow and a little disappointed at the disintegration of the literary spell.
It probably didn’t hurt, either, that Gaskell was threatened with a high profile libel suit as soon as the book hit the shelves. In the book, Gaskell obliquely (read: Victorian style) accuses a Lady of England of an affair (of unknown nature) with the Bronte son. And, ultimately, unwitting murder. The Lady had a fit and managed to have all copies pulled from sale and the book re-issued with omissions. Thankfully, our current copies are the original.
As for the rest of the history, it is this: Charlotte Bronte was born the third-eldest daughter in a family of six. Her father was a pastor and moved his young family to the far-North moors of England, to a small, isolated village, where her mother quickly died. Her aunt came to raise the children (but would die before they became writers), and Mr. Bronte realized his children’s genius–especially his son’s–and sought an education for them. Through a series of boarding schools and then stints as governesses and teachers, two sisters perished and three emerged into adulthood intensely shy and religious and weak in body. As a way to escape governessing, Bronte published a book of the three sisters’ poetry and they took on male nom de plumes and wrote their first novels. In a relatively short span of time, the sister’s became famous, the Bronte son drank himself to death (after a public exposure of his affair/obsession with his employer’s wife), and the two remaining sisters died. After Charlotte’s brief marriage and untimely death, the novelist Elizabeth Gaskell–a newer friend of Bronte’s–rushed to gather letters and interview, writing The Life of Charlotte Bronte rather quickly. These are the bones of the story, the story that would lead to Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, and five other novels. As for anything more, you can read the book and see.
As for the book as a piece of literature, it is okay. In fact, it’s so okay that you rarely remember that you are reading; you’re just flawlessly lifted from you life and the language is smooth and unobtrusive. As I mentioned above, the bulk of the text comes from letters and most of those letters written by Charlotte Bronte, therefore the tone is largely Bronte’s conversational tone. It’s quite pleasant, and while Gaskell is sort of telling me one thing about Bronte, I am reading something else in the character of her letters. Nearing the end, the book drags on, and I lost interest when Gaskell included all those letters from Bronte discussing the literature and literary news of their times. It was a mistake to veer from Bronte’s more personal revelations, but I am guessing that Gaskell had scant else to go on during this period. It makes me wonder if the tale should have been told in a less chronological way, at least as far as the letters go.
Speaking of dragging on, I know that she claims having left out many letters, but it felt like Gaskell included too much. In other words, the book easily could have been streamlined and still said the same thing. Time after time, we see letters revealing to us the same things about Bronte, over and over. Gaskell herself is guilty of repeating things, driving home her points with the ring of a hammer on a stake.
On the other hand, she left important things out, thanks to her Victorian sensibilities. Those Victorians were strange people. What could and couldn’t be said created a web of deception and revelation that is difficult to comprehend at this distance. For example, Gaskell can not say, “Bronte was pregnant when she died.” She can also not mention what happened with the baby or how far along Bronte was. Actually, she probably didn’t know, because Bronte herself never could have said. The history of the Brontes includes many incidences where we are required to read between the lines or, in the worst cases, wonder longingly at a pale space between facts.
But beyond her very Victorian omissions, one can’t help feel that Gaskell had but one lens through which she saw Charlotte, and it is applied completely and thickly. I have no doubt that Bronte struggled with homesickness, sickliness, and possible depression, but Gaskell lays it on so thick that we don’t get the part of Bronte that shines through her letters: the wit, sarcasm, humor, and even happiness. Personally, it really seems that Bronte herself perpetuated the impression others would have of her physical weakness, her helplessness, her depression (through classic negativity)… yet she was clearly also strong, capable, smart, and at times deeply satisfied. Just like all of us, Bronte and Gaskell saw herself/her one way, while the reality was much more complex and subtle. And, as is always the case, Bronte becomes to us a sort of collage of a dozen memorable and iconic moments: the Bronte children receiving their box of wooden soldiers; little Charlotte lost in absorption of the political news; Emily on the moors with her faithful dog; Anne toiling as a governess with her head bent is submission; the three girls walking the parlour in the dark of night, discussing their writing; the near-empty house in the middle of the graveyard.
At any rate, I loved reading this biography for its revelation of the writing life. I would say “writing life in Victorian times,” but I find that not much is different between Bronte’s being a writer and my being a writer. For more on reading The Life as a writer, see my blog HERE.
So, yeah, I recommend it, but it can get long and dry at times. And I strongly suggest that you take anything Gaskell says with a grain of salt: she was, after all, a famous woman rushing to write the definitive biography on another famous person, one whom she had known only for a limited time. I’m not saying Gaskell’s motives or knowledge were bad, just that they were–like all of ours–mixed and not crystal clear.
I’m sure there are more modern biographies that are more entertaining, but this one is surely worth reading, especially if you enjoy biographies, love the Brontes, or are writing biographies of your own.
_______________
There must have been biographical snippets on TV here and there, about Charlotte Bronte, but I don’t know how to find them. The BBC announced their intention of making a drama about the lives of the Brontes, last May. They have not said much more than who will write, direct, and generally where the filming will take place. Also, casting was happening way back in May. Waiting for more information. There’s also a highly fictionalized film, Devotion, from 1946.
_______________
“My heart is a very hot-bed for sinful thoughts, and when I decide on an action I scarcely remember to look to my Redeemer for direction. I know not how to pray; I cannot bend my life to the grand end of doing good; I go on constantly seeking my own pleasure” (p127).
“I recollected the fable of the willow and the oak; I bent quietly, and now, I trust, the storm is blowing over me” (p138).
“I think, if you can respect a person before marriage, moderate love at least will come after; and as to intense passion, I am convinced that that is no desirable feeling” (p151).
“This made it possible for her to go through long and deep histories of feeling and imagination, for which others, odd as it sounds, have rarely time” (p157).
“I am a fool. Heaven knows I cannot help it!” (p159).
“…but, God knows, I have enough to do to keep a good heart in the matter” (p159).
“I find it is not in my nature to get along in this weary world without sympathy and attachment in some quarter; and seldom indeed do we find it” (p160).
“As to getting into debt, that is a thing we could none of us reconcile our minds to for a moment” (p162).
“…but when you have thrown the reins on the neck of your imagination, do not pull her up to reason” (p183).
“All this, looked upon as a well-invented fiction in Shirley, was written down by Charlotte with streaming eyes; it was the literal true account of what Emily had done” (p211).
“Do not condemn yourself to live only be halves” (p220).
“You thought I refused you coldly, did you? It was a queer sort of coldness, when I would have given my ears to say Yes, and I was obliged to say No” (221).
“I must remember perfection is not the lot of humanity; and as long as we can regard those we love, and to whom we are closely allied, with profound and never-shaken esteem, it is a small thing that they should vex us occasionally by what appear to us unreasonable and headstrong notions” (p231).
“[Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell] stole into life; some weeks passed over, without the mighty murmuring public discovering that three more voices were uttering their speech” (p236).
“…nor will you be praised and admired for remaining at home to comfort your mother; yet, probably, your own conscience will approve, and if it does, stay with her” (p237).
“If you see any honey, gather it” (p250).
“…yet she must not shrink from the extra responsibility implied by the very fact of her possessing such talents” (p273).
“‘The pomp and circumstance of war’ have quite lost in my eyes their fictitious glitter” (p279).
“I have now outlived youth; and, though I dare not say that I have outlived all its illusions…” (p279).
“When people belong to a clique, they must, I suppose, in some measure, write, talk, think, and live for that clique; a harassing and narrowing necessity” (p278).
“Till the last hour comes, we never know how much we can forgive, pity, regret” (p290).
“Fortitude is good; but fortitude itself must be shaken under us to teach us how weak we are” (p301).
“…before ‘the desk was closed, and the pen laid aside forever'” (p304).
“But, Lord, whatever be my fate, / Oh let me serve Thee now!” (p305).
“I do not now how life will pass, but I certainly do feel confidence in Him who has upheld me hitherto” (p313).
“Solitude, Remembrance, and Longing are to be almost my sole companions all the day through–that at night I shall go to bed with them” (p313).
“But crushed I am not, yet; nor robbed of elasticity, nor of hope, nor quite of endeavor” (p313).
“The strength, if strength we have, is certainly never in our own selves; it is given us” (p319).
“The two human beings who understood me, and whom I understood, are gone” (p320).
“…it is for me a part of my religion to defend this gift, and to profit by its possessions” (p320).
“That matters little. My own conscience I satisfy first” (p326).
“…it is so bad for the mind to be quite alone, and to have none with whom to talk over little crosses and disappointments” (p336).
“Thackeray still proves himself greater when he is weary than other writers are when they are fresh” (p340).
“Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste” (p341).
“…if I knew all that was coming, it would be comparatively flat. I would much rather not know” (p341).
“…she only grieves that a mind of which this is the emanation, should be kept crushed by the leaded hand of poverty” (p342).
“Some people’s natures are veritable enigmas: I quite expected to have had one good scene at least with him; but as yet nothing of the sort has occurred” (p342).
“…but he who shuns suffering will never win victory” (p343).
“Youth has its romance, and maturity its wisdom, as morning and spring have their freshness, noon and summer their power, night and winter their repose. Each attribute is goof in its own season” (p346),
“…that is to say, the excuses were often worse than the crime itself” (p347).
“…but I think grief is a two-edged sword, it cuts both ways; the memory of one loss is the anticipation of another” (p352).
“…’enough,’ the proverb says, ‘is as good as a feast'” (p358).
“Sunday–yesterday–was a day to be marked with a white stone” (p381).
“Who has the words at the right moment?” (p382).
“…we must love our friends for their sakes rather than for our own” (p387).
“…it is better to be worn our with work in a thronged community, than to perish f inaction in a stagnant solitude” (p388).
“…it is good to be attracted outside of ourselves–to be forced to take a near view of the sufferings, the privations, the efforts, the difficulties of others” (p393).
“If, on the other hand, we be contending with the special grief,–the intimate trial,–the peculiar bitterness with which God has seen fit to mingle our own cup of existence,–it is very good to know that our overcast lot is not singular …. there are countless afflictions in the world, each perhaps rivaling–some surpassing–the private pain …. a thorn in the flesh for each; some burden, some conflict for all” (p393).
“‘…marriage might be defined as the state of two-fold selfishness'” (p407).
“Submission, courage, exertion, when practicable,–these seem to be the weapons with which we must fight life’s long battle” (p410).
“…my palette affords no brighter tints; were I to attempt to deepen the reds, or burnish the yellows, I should by botch” (p416).
“I might explain away a few other points, but it would be too much like drawing a picture and then writing underneath the name of the object intended to be represented” (p416).
“The longer I live, the more plainly I see that gentle must be the strain on fragile human nature; it will not bear much” (p424).
***REVIEW WRITTEN FOR THE DEVON TREVARROW FLAHERTY BLOG***
shannee's review against another edition
3.0
The Life of Charlotte Bronte by Elizabeth Gaskell starts out a bit slow. Rather than jumping right into Charlotte’s life, Gaskell introduces the reader to the environment and character of Yorkshire where Charlotte was born and lived. Gaskell wants to make a case immediately that the “coarseness” Charlotte was accused of was a result of her enviroment. Gaskell essential tries to explain to the cultivated Londoners and other critics of urban England, that Charlotte comes from the wild and obnoxious Northern countryside, where people are distrustful, outwardly hostile, and rude but truthful and loyal at heart. It’s an amusing peek at how rich city people see those that live out in the country. Although Gaskell’s description of the people of Yorkshire is obviously skewed, it surely also contains some truth.
As I read the book, I felt like Gaskell was continually explaining why Charlotte was the way she was and almost making excuses for her. Of course, part of an autobiography is to explain a person’s character but I would much rather be shown a personality than told of one. To my modern sensibilities and perspective no excuse is needed for Charlotte. I can draw the conclusions myself that Charlotte came from a wilder, more independent environment and that her isolation left her incredibly lonely. I wished Gaskell would have left off telling me these things over and over and would have spent more time telling me about Charlotte’s artistic side.
The Life of Charlotte Bronte sorely lacks in it’s portrait of Charlotte as an artist. Most of the book is Charlotte’s letters, with Gaskell setting up or filling in between letters. Perhaps Charlotte just did not talk about her artistry, her methods of writing, inspiration, etc. Still I think Gaskell would have done Charlotte a more timeless justice if she would have focused more on Charlotte, the novelist, and less on Charlotte, the faithful daughter and homemaker.
But I do believe the book is written this way on purpose. Another distinct point Gaskell wants to make was that Charlotte did not neglect her…womanly duties, as it were, in favor of her writting. Sad that this point has to be made but I can understand Gaskell, and other friends and family of Charlotte’s, felt it was important to do her that justice. When you read some of the reviews of Charlotte’s work, especially Jane Eyre, you can understand why Gaskell wanted to refute how Charlotte’s character was being drawn. What was then called coarseness and unwomanly in Charlotte’s work we see today as passionate, emotional, strength, and independance. Qualities few, even fellow women, would accept in the 19th century.
"Jane Eyre is throughout the personification of the unregenerate and undisciplined spirit…….It is true Jane does right, and exerts great moral strength, but it is the strength of a mere heathen mind which is a law unto itself. No Christian grace is perceptible upon her.
Altogether the autobiography of Jane Eyre is preeminently an anti-Christian composition. There is throughout it a murmuring against the comforts of the rich and against the privations of the poor, which, as far as each individual is concerned, is a murmuring against God’s appointment–there is a proud and perpetual assertion of the rights of man, for which we find no authority either in God’s word or in God’s providence–there is that pervading tone of ungodly discontent which is at once the most prominent and the most subtle evil which the law and the pulpit, which all civilized society in fact, has at the present day to contend with. We do not hesitate to say that the tone of mind and thought which has overthrown authority and violated every code human and divine abroad, and fostered Chartism and rebellion at home is the same which has also written Jane Eyre"
–Elizabeth Rigby, the Quarterly Review 1847
Gaskell does show us through Charlotte’s letters, how completely unjust this review is. Charlotte was accepting, almost to a fault in my opinion, of her life as laid out by God. She felt is was her duty, and stuck with it tenaciusly even after the success of her books, to stay with her father in complete isolation in Yorkshire. Anyone who has read Villette knows Charlotte’s deep innate belief in the predetermination of God. That He has already decided who shall lead a happy blessed life and who shall suffer. All her life Charlotte live in acceptance of this. Her novels do show a rebellious nature, but it is always a rebellion against man, against a society that would unjustly keep her character down. Not a rebellion against God. Her heroines are in fact searching for the truth of how God, not Man, would have life lived.
Some of the most wonderful parts of The Life of Charlotte Bronte are when Charlotte talks of her books. I almost jumped out of my chair when I read her letter about the ending of Villette. Those of you that have read Villette and have in turns: wondered, been certain, then doubtful, and shook the book in frustration, will finally have your answer. But I will not give it away here.
The Life of Charlotte Bronte was published just 2 years after her death. Because many of the people mentioned in the book were still alive, almost all names are abbreviated to an initial. This really disturbs the narrative and prevents you from sinking into the story. Also for privacy, and the risk of lawsuits, very little is told of the people in Charlotte’s life. Although Gaskell gives us a glimpse into Charlotte’s personality and a detailed history of her life, it feels one dimensional without those people around Charlotte fleshed out. In the end, I’m left wanting more detail and more truth about Charlotte, her books, and the events that impacted her life. Luckily, I have Juliet Barker’s massive The Brontes already on my shelf to, hopefully, fill that void.
As I read the book, I felt like Gaskell was continually explaining why Charlotte was the way she was and almost making excuses for her. Of course, part of an autobiography is to explain a person’s character but I would much rather be shown a personality than told of one. To my modern sensibilities and perspective no excuse is needed for Charlotte. I can draw the conclusions myself that Charlotte came from a wilder, more independent environment and that her isolation left her incredibly lonely. I wished Gaskell would have left off telling me these things over and over and would have spent more time telling me about Charlotte’s artistic side.
The Life of Charlotte Bronte sorely lacks in it’s portrait of Charlotte as an artist. Most of the book is Charlotte’s letters, with Gaskell setting up or filling in between letters. Perhaps Charlotte just did not talk about her artistry, her methods of writing, inspiration, etc. Still I think Gaskell would have done Charlotte a more timeless justice if she would have focused more on Charlotte, the novelist, and less on Charlotte, the faithful daughter and homemaker.
But I do believe the book is written this way on purpose. Another distinct point Gaskell wants to make was that Charlotte did not neglect her…womanly duties, as it were, in favor of her writting. Sad that this point has to be made but I can understand Gaskell, and other friends and family of Charlotte’s, felt it was important to do her that justice. When you read some of the reviews of Charlotte’s work, especially Jane Eyre, you can understand why Gaskell wanted to refute how Charlotte’s character was being drawn. What was then called coarseness and unwomanly in Charlotte’s work we see today as passionate, emotional, strength, and independance. Qualities few, even fellow women, would accept in the 19th century.
"Jane Eyre is throughout the personification of the unregenerate and undisciplined spirit…….It is true Jane does right, and exerts great moral strength, but it is the strength of a mere heathen mind which is a law unto itself. No Christian grace is perceptible upon her.
Altogether the autobiography of Jane Eyre is preeminently an anti-Christian composition. There is throughout it a murmuring against the comforts of the rich and against the privations of the poor, which, as far as each individual is concerned, is a murmuring against God’s appointment–there is a proud and perpetual assertion of the rights of man, for which we find no authority either in God’s word or in God’s providence–there is that pervading tone of ungodly discontent which is at once the most prominent and the most subtle evil which the law and the pulpit, which all civilized society in fact, has at the present day to contend with. We do not hesitate to say that the tone of mind and thought which has overthrown authority and violated every code human and divine abroad, and fostered Chartism and rebellion at home is the same which has also written Jane Eyre"
–Elizabeth Rigby, the Quarterly Review 1847
Gaskell does show us through Charlotte’s letters, how completely unjust this review is. Charlotte was accepting, almost to a fault in my opinion, of her life as laid out by God. She felt is was her duty, and stuck with it tenaciusly even after the success of her books, to stay with her father in complete isolation in Yorkshire. Anyone who has read Villette knows Charlotte’s deep innate belief in the predetermination of God. That He has already decided who shall lead a happy blessed life and who shall suffer. All her life Charlotte live in acceptance of this. Her novels do show a rebellious nature, but it is always a rebellion against man, against a society that would unjustly keep her character down. Not a rebellion against God. Her heroines are in fact searching for the truth of how God, not Man, would have life lived.
Some of the most wonderful parts of The Life of Charlotte Bronte are when Charlotte talks of her books. I almost jumped out of my chair when I read her letter about the ending of Villette. Those of you that have read Villette and have in turns: wondered, been certain, then doubtful, and shook the book in frustration, will finally have your answer. But I will not give it away here.
The Life of Charlotte Bronte was published just 2 years after her death. Because many of the people mentioned in the book were still alive, almost all names are abbreviated to an initial. This really disturbs the narrative and prevents you from sinking into the story. Also for privacy, and the risk of lawsuits, very little is told of the people in Charlotte’s life. Although Gaskell gives us a glimpse into Charlotte’s personality and a detailed history of her life, it feels one dimensional without those people around Charlotte fleshed out. In the end, I’m left wanting more detail and more truth about Charlotte, her books, and the events that impacted her life. Luckily, I have Juliet Barker’s massive The Brontes already on my shelf to, hopefully, fill that void.
annrhub's review against another edition
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
sad
slow-paced
4.5
rmla's review against another edition
5.0
Putting the question of Gaskell's accuracy aside, this is a fascinating piece of work in its own right. Gaskell produced an innovative biography that focused on the life, more than the works, of the author. To have one famous Victorian female author writing on another is in itself unconventional and exciting - its inaccuracies alongside its history of production, then, are something to celebrate rather than criticise - and therefore the text can tell us a lot about Gaskell as well as Brontë.
pinderbucks's review against another edition
emotional
informative
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
3.75
missbryden's review against another edition
3.0
Coming from reading all the Brontes books in order, and also a biography of Anne, by or in chapter 14, I was annoyed with Charlotte, when she relates, in a letter, the challenges with Branwell during and after the occasions when he was a tutor in the same house where Anne was governess. Charlotte relates the challenges of having him at home and the state he's in, but little to nothing about Anne having had to observe his goings on in their workplace, a private home.
But otherwise, I didn't see the publicising of names and scandal, that Samantha Ellis complained of in [b:Take Courage: Anne Bronte and the Art of Life|29779226|Take Courage Anne Bronte and the Art of Life|Samantha Ellis|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1483433033s/29779226.jpg|50149148]. My paperback edition is apparently a copy of the first edition, and yet apparently Gaskell had to edit and produce another edition after complaints that it shared too much about Mr. Bronte and Branwell. Yet in this edition most names are referenced in initials or blanks only, and the scandal of Branwell in the Robinson home (where he and Anne were working) is unnamed. Though I can see that describing his carrying on and self-medicating with opium and alcohol would've been displeasing to the father and friends still living, though Gaskell largely quotes from Charlotte's letters.
After her sisters' death, I felt more sympathy and ultimate sadness with the narrative. Charlotte spent years alternately in depression, and also had a great deal of communication on literary matters, writing to friends and publishing colleagues of who she saw and heard, what she read, and about her own writing.
To read of her ultimate and brief happiness with her husband before she died was that much more sad.
But otherwise, I didn't see the publicising of names and scandal, that Samantha Ellis complained of in [b:Take Courage: Anne Bronte and the Art of Life|29779226|Take Courage Anne Bronte and the Art of Life|Samantha Ellis|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1483433033s/29779226.jpg|50149148]. My paperback edition is apparently a copy of the first edition, and yet apparently Gaskell had to edit and produce another edition after complaints that it shared too much about Mr. Bronte and Branwell. Yet in this edition most names are referenced in initials or blanks only, and the scandal of Branwell in the Robinson home (where he and Anne were working) is unnamed. Though I can see that describing his carrying on and self-medicating with opium and alcohol would've been displeasing to the father and friends still living, though Gaskell largely quotes from Charlotte's letters.
After her sisters' death, I felt more sympathy and ultimate sadness with the narrative. Charlotte spent years alternately in depression, and also had a great deal of communication on literary matters, writing to friends and publishing colleagues of who she saw and heard, what she read, and about her own writing.
To read of her ultimate and brief happiness with her husband before she died was that much more sad.