With... Adam Sargant
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It's our last episode of series 1!!! Expect ghost, ghouls and lots of
laughs as we round off the series with Adam Sargant, AKA Haunted Haworth.
We'll be...
2 weeks ago
In a time when we can’t rely on human contact to support our mental wellbeing, it is important to reconnect with the outdoors. A poem that really captures our need as humans for interaction with nature is: ‘Shall Earth No More Inspire Thee’ by Emily Brontë.This poem, first published in 1846, is a remarkable reminder that, for as long as we have existed, nature has always been a place of solitude and a source of inspiration.Brontë convinces her reader of the vitality of nature and its comforting presence, and I think now of all times is a moment to relish in her advice. (Jocelyn Ainsley)
Name three books that are memorable in terms of your reading pleasure.“Bleak House” by Charles Dickens, which I think may be the greatest novel in the English language; “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Brontë, which is the book I’ve probably re-read more often than any other; and I’ll cheat a little on the third and go for the complete Jeeves & Wooster tales of P.G. Wodehouse, because they never fail to bring a little joy into my world. I’m not sure I could entirely trust anyone who didn’t like P.G. Wodehouse. (Peter McDermott)
The writer who moves me most is Dominica-born British author Jean Rhys. I so relate to Antoinette Cosway’s fragility at leaving behind a lush tropical island for grey England in Wide Sargasso Sea, because I made that voyage, too. (Cat Olley)
Esta obra es una larga y extraordinaria descripción de los actos y problemas emocionales de unos seres locos o perversos que arrastran una existencia mísera y maléfica. Con ellos, Emily Brontë ofrece al lector una visión de todos estos seres, que caminan por cada página y que actúan demoníacamente por aridez protestante que se diluye en todas y en cada una de sus páginas.Cumbres Borrascosas es sin duda la novela más genuina, profunda y contenida dela literatura, además de una de las obras más importantes de la época victoriana. (Pilar Martínez) (Translation)
Jasper Fforde’s Thursday Next SeriesSo really, you could grab any of Jasper Fforde’s books and expect silly weirdness. It’s what he does best. I picked the Thursday Next series because it’s what he’s most known for and because it contains a lot of reader catnip. Why? Because the Thursday Next books feature a character, Thursday, who is a literary detective. The first book, The Eyre Affair, features a drag racing Miss Havisham, time travel, and a dodo named Pickwick. I mean, literary references abound. (I particularly like the running joke about her dad and Winston Churchill.) Feeling more like a Young Adult book? Then start with The Last Dragonslayer, which has plucky orphans, quark beasts, and wizards using magic to unclog drains. (Lish McBride)
Before moving to Los Angeles in 1967, Marmorstein began writing for the New York-based soap The Doctors, where he was head writer before being hired away by Dark Shadows creator Dan Curtis in late 1966. During Marmorstein’s early tenure on what was then a failing Jane Eyre-style melodrama, Curtis and his small writing staff began adding supernatural elements — at first a ghost or two and then a strange woman who turned out to be a from-the-ashes phoenix. (Greg Evans)
Penso nas irmãs Brontë e no desejo antigo de crescer numa casa cheia de raparigas e de livros. Só tenho uma irmã, e na nossa casa não havia mais de 15 livros. Quando a minha irmã nasceu, eu achava que era crescida: tinha dez anos e já tinha folheado O Monte dos Vendavais, e achado graça às duas bolinhas do nome da autora por cima do ë (vim mais tarde a saber que se chamava trema). (Cláudia Lucas Chéu) (Translation)
Unlike, say, silk pajamas or a slinky slip, nightgowns aren’t really made for public consumption. They are garments that are completely and utterly for you. You don’t dress up a nightgown to run errands or eat brunch, you wear a nightgown to lie on a fainting couch and complain of consumption. You waft from room to room, half-human, half-apparition, full of longing, pausing only to press your palm against the icy window in search of meaning in the bitter howls of the wind. Muttering quietly to yourself, Heathcliff, it’s me, Amil. Please be quiet, the baby’s sleeping! (Amil Niazi)
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