A Bee and the Brontes
While we were in York, we stayed in a hostel that, due to its drafty windows had let in a bee in early that evening into the room. I wasn't in the room when the bee made its first appearance, but after hearing of the terror it seemed to strike into the other girls, I was nervous. Everyone was on edge all night long because it had disappeared right before we had turned in. I was one of the first ones up, and I noticed one of the girls crawling on the floor (she was trying to find her phone). All of a sudden, she rapidly turned towards me and whisper-yelled that she had found the bee... it was on one of her shoes. Quickly, and very quietly so as not to wake the other girls, we grabbed a bucket and a towel in order to trap our fuzzy little foe. In stealth mode, I threw the towel on the shoes to contain it, hoping it was inside and wouldn't mind being stuck there for a minute. My friend was ready with the bucket when I quickly moved the towel off of the shoe, only to discover that the bee was once again missing. By this time, all of the girls were awake and there was no way we were moving the towel. It was obvious we had angered the bee. Checking the time, we called one of the boys down who has become notorious in our group for his ability to catch, and or kill allusive insects. He came down and gently approached the towel. In one swift movement, he shook the purple piece of cloth and the buzzing was heard. The bee still out of sight, the towel was dropped back to the ground, and he gingerly moved the edges of it around until he caught sight of the fiend. Originally, one of the other girls had requested that the bee not be injured, but rather, kindly released back into the wild world outside the window. Once the guy saw the size of public enemy number one, a wild feeling took over him and he started smashing the towel in a murderous rage. The girl who had requested the bee receive amnesty cried out in protest, but it was too late. The bee was dead. Finally, we could continue to get ready and move on to our next adventure.
On our way back to London, we stopped in the village of Haworth, wherein 1820 Patrick Brontë, father of the famous Brontë sisters was appointed incumbent over the local parish. The family moved there and it is here that the three sisters were taught by their father to read and write, where their brother painted, and where the girls wrote and published their famous works. They each have contributed to the world of classical literature through Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Agnes Grey. Originally the women published under male pseudonyms because the idea of a woman publishing a book at the time was considered absurd. There was much suspicion over the identities of the new authors, and eventually, the sisters were forced to reveal their identities when Anne (one of the sisters) published her second novel.
The parsonage is at the top of a hill, behind the church and graveyard of the town. It's a stone house from the Georgian era, and wouldn't stand out in any other English village. This one does because of its history. The Bronte sisters had much tragedy in their life, with their mother, two of their sisters, and their aunt passing during their time at the parsonage. Each of the three remaining sisters took turns taking chores in the household. They cared for each other, their father, and their brother. They often had many visitors and they all lived together in the small house. Something that I noticed during my visit was the attention to detail that the caretakers have put into the restoration of the parsonage. Where the original furniture could not be procured, they found period appropriate replicas. Members of the museum have gone so far as to use the same shade of paint that they believe was used during the Brontes time in the house. The whole area has been used in different film renditions of their books, especially a nearby field where a character in Wuthering Heights went for a jaunt. If you walk away from the main street of the village, you can walk along the very path and look out into the green valley over the various sheep pastures, just watch out for sheep poo as you trek through the fields along the trail.
I didn't know anything about the Bronte sister before this visit. I haven't read their books and didn't own a copy of either Jane Eyer or Wuthering Heights (I have since purchased a copy of Wuthering Heights). I find it fascinating the lengths of which historical societies have gone to preserve the memories of the well-respected authors. Shakespeare is forever remembered in the Globe theatre and in his hometown of Stratford, and Wordsworth in the trust that I talked about in previous posts. Jane Austen has many museums dedicated to her memory, including one in Bath where she lived for a spell (many film renditions of her books have been filmed in various locations in Bath). Each British author, especially the classics, have helped to perpetuate an idea of what it is to be British. Their characters have become world-renowned, and their words became romanticised in peoples minds about what they expect when travelling to the UK. Each of them has left their mark on the creation of the current British identity, I think mostly with their descriptions of regions and the class system. I find it fascinating at the amount of almost religious respect the British people remember those who they have deemed "great". Each of the authors I have mentioned are forever remembered in poets corner in West Minster Abbey, along with most of the kings and queens who have ruled over England and the UK. I think in terms of British Identity, they have offered instrumentalist roles in creating and shaping how other people view the UK, but also how citizens view themselves.
Below is a picture of the dead bee, on a key card for size comparison, also so that we wouldn't have to touch it for fear of being stung. I feel bad that it died.
Below is a picture of the town high street with all the flags. If you ever want to visit a picturesque English village, I highly suggest this one, though there are many throughout the countryside.
On our way back to London, we stopped in the village of Haworth, wherein 1820 Patrick Brontë, father of the famous Brontë sisters was appointed incumbent over the local parish. The family moved there and it is here that the three sisters were taught by their father to read and write, where their brother painted, and where the girls wrote and published their famous works. They each have contributed to the world of classical literature through Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Agnes Grey. Originally the women published under male pseudonyms because the idea of a woman publishing a book at the time was considered absurd. There was much suspicion over the identities of the new authors, and eventually, the sisters were forced to reveal their identities when Anne (one of the sisters) published her second novel.
The parsonage is at the top of a hill, behind the church and graveyard of the town. It's a stone house from the Georgian era, and wouldn't stand out in any other English village. This one does because of its history. The Bronte sisters had much tragedy in their life, with their mother, two of their sisters, and their aunt passing during their time at the parsonage. Each of the three remaining sisters took turns taking chores in the household. They cared for each other, their father, and their brother. They often had many visitors and they all lived together in the small house. Something that I noticed during my visit was the attention to detail that the caretakers have put into the restoration of the parsonage. Where the original furniture could not be procured, they found period appropriate replicas. Members of the museum have gone so far as to use the same shade of paint that they believe was used during the Brontes time in the house. The whole area has been used in different film renditions of their books, especially a nearby field where a character in Wuthering Heights went for a jaunt. If you walk away from the main street of the village, you can walk along the very path and look out into the green valley over the various sheep pastures, just watch out for sheep poo as you trek through the fields along the trail.
I didn't know anything about the Bronte sister before this visit. I haven't read their books and didn't own a copy of either Jane Eyer or Wuthering Heights (I have since purchased a copy of Wuthering Heights). I find it fascinating the lengths of which historical societies have gone to preserve the memories of the well-respected authors. Shakespeare is forever remembered in the Globe theatre and in his hometown of Stratford, and Wordsworth in the trust that I talked about in previous posts. Jane Austen has many museums dedicated to her memory, including one in Bath where she lived for a spell (many film renditions of her books have been filmed in various locations in Bath). Each British author, especially the classics, have helped to perpetuate an idea of what it is to be British. Their characters have become world-renowned, and their words became romanticised in peoples minds about what they expect when travelling to the UK. Each of them has left their mark on the creation of the current British identity, I think mostly with their descriptions of regions and the class system. I find it fascinating at the amount of almost religious respect the British people remember those who they have deemed "great". Each of the authors I have mentioned are forever remembered in poets corner in West Minster Abbey, along with most of the kings and queens who have ruled over England and the UK. I think in terms of British Identity, they have offered instrumentalist roles in creating and shaping how other people view the UK, but also how citizens view themselves.
(Above) This is the view I mentioned into the valley from the path through the sheep fields.
(Below) The stone building is part of the Bronte Parsonage Museum, while part of the church can be seen in the background flying the English flag. There was a wedding while we were there, so the whole town was decked out in celebratory flags.
Below is a picture of the town high street with all the flags. If you ever want to visit a picturesque English village, I highly suggest this one, though there are many throughout the countryside.
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