The Moors of England

We spent two half-days exploring Bronte Country (Haworth). The hike up through the town of Haworth was very quaint, but the tour guide quickly dispelled that myth with her graphic description of running sewage, crowded conditions, and unhealthy water supplies from the groundwater running through the small cemetery where 42,000 (!) bodies were buried and not decomposing very well. (No wonder the Brontes all died young)

In the parsonage at the very top, right at the edge of the moors,is where the Bronte family lived and died young while producing some of the most enduring British Literature classics of all times. As we toured the Bronte parsonage, now turned into a museum, I was struck by the very small size of the rooms. However, after seeing the tiny shoes and dresses of the Bronte sisters I see that they fit quite nicely in the doll-house of a parsonage. The family life as presented at the museum seemed to be all about writing and very little about the day-to-day existence of the family; no laundry, no chamber pot, even the kitchen where Emily made the family bread focused more on the German book propped up by the breadboard than the production of the family's meals. This is quite different from other "home life" museums that I have attended. The museum catered exclusively to the literary pilgrim, as it focused almost exclusively on the actual writings of the family and quite a lot on brother Branwell's paintings. The sister's lap writing desks were fascinating, especially Emily's, which still held a set of lick-n-stick stamps that were brain teaser puzzles.

The Brontes, as children, wrote very tiny books for their imaginary worlds. The books can only be read with a magnifying glass! As I walked among the heath and bracken on the moors, I could see how the Bronte children could see a tiny land with the heath as the forest. It was easy to imagine the fairies still in England and living on the moors and dales.

The gift shop again catered to the literary pilgrim with a few nods to bored children and teenagers. Many versions of the Bronte novels were evident along with biographies and historical treatises of the village of Haworth and the surrounding countryside. I was so pleased to find a nicely done graphic novel of Jane Eyre to use in my middle school classroom, but the graphic novel of Wuthering Heights was atrocious. It looked like an over-stylized Spider Man comic, with lots of sinewy muscles and boobs popping out everywhere in anime style. I passed. In the middle of the gift shop was a kiosk with typical toys (balls, crazy pens, puzzle books, stuffed animals, etc.) that was obviously placed there to keep kids busy while Mom perused the Bronte paraphernalia.

Up to the moors we hiked the next day, nine miles up and back from our youth hostel. I think 8.5 of those miles were straight up! How did those women hike this in little heels, dresses with petticoats, and only a wool shawl? I was tired and wet but still contemplative. The wind was relentless and yet not unwelcome. I could imagine Cathy and Heathcliff here as I stood on the cliff covered with heath (sometimes Emily Bronte just hammers home her symbolism, know what I mean?)The moors don't seem desolate from a Wuthering Heights perspective, but they seem above it all, in both a physical and a metaphorical sense. However, thinking of Jane Eyre roaming lost among the moors searching for peace and safety from the storms of love and life, the desolation side of the place is apparent. It is interesting to see the quite different feelings about the moors as written by the Bronte sisters. If it is possible, I would like to agree with both of them. My senses were invigorated by the moors and I got a touch of the sublime, but I would not like to be up here alone in the rain in the dark, overnight, with no home to welcome my return. I have a greater sense of Jane's despair on the moors.

I look forward to reading all the Bronte sisters' works again (some of Anne's for the first time) now that this place is in my soul.