Posts Tagged ‘bibliophilia’

Fact:  I sometimes do late-night Pic Click searches semi-relevant to whatever I happen to be obsessing over.  Lately, as you might imagine, I’m the only person (probably) on the internet going visual searches for handmade and vintage items tagged Brontë, Gaskell, etc.  300 years ago, I’m a perfect example of why women should read novels; […]


I can’t stop reading the Brontës, and in a study of those ladies, undisciplined as it is, Gaskell seems to be required reading as well.  Like Charlotte Brontë’s Shirley, North and South deals with the social implications of economic decline for manufacturers and laborers during the first half of the 19th century, and as in […]


I felt compelled last week to revisit Maria Edgeworth’s Belinda and this novel only gets better in rereading.  Somehow, miraculously, Belinda was more rational and impervious, Clarence Hervey more coxcombical and quixotic, Lord Delacour more of a drunken buffoon, and Lady Delacour more doped out of her god damned mind than I remembered.  Over the […]


More from Villette, as promised… She even paused, laid on my shoulder her gloved hand, holding an embroidered and perfumed handkerchief, and confided to my ear a sarcasm on the other teachers (whom she had just been complimenting to their faces).


Charlotte Brontë, you are my favorite.  My favorite Brontë, at any rate. After a few very long days with Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, I wanted a Brontë break from the page-long, overdetermined character descriptions from phrenology (ok, Anne, we get it:  dark features, disagreeable character) and the embedded polemics on female virtue […]


Brontëism

17Apr10

Last Tuesday, I arrived at the startling conclusion that I’ve never given Anne Brontë much of a chance.  Two days and 400ish pages later, I came to the conclusion that I’d given her too much of one. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, by all basic descriptions, is exactly my sort of book–a touch of Gothic […]


I recently read Gaskell’s Cranford and after a few days spent dwelling in the gossip, dramatics, and social codes of the anachronistic little place, I fell in love with all of the proper old maids and widows, as well as with the objects of their peculiar, unfashionable, consumer fetishes. I can testify to a magnificent […]


I spend way too much time with either my face in an 18th-century novel or scanning Amazon for what I’m going to read next. And I’m a sucker for pretty things and immaculate detail work. One of the consequences of this is my latest obsession with the Oxford World’s Classics paperbacks. They’ve eliminated a lot […]


There comes a point in every woman’s life when she must confront the question, “Seriously, am I ever going to f-ing finish Middlemarch?” As much as I love Rosamund’s vacuousness and Mary’s wry prudence and Celia’s well-intended criticisms, I’m relatively certain that George Eliot is going to kill me before she kills Casaubon. While I […]