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salicat's review
4.0
I've always been a little obsessed with the Brontes- I don't know, maybe I was their cousin or something in a past life. I'm also a proclaimed Daphne DuMaurier fanatic. So imagine my excitement to find Ms. DuMaurier's biography of that mysterious, supposed-genius brother, Branwell Bronte. This book is short, as was the life of its subject and his sisters. But this review's gonna be long, so bear with me.
Now, I'd heard rumors- mostly college professor gossip- about Branwell during the years. That he really was the one who wrote Wuthering Heights (!!), that he was an addict, a failed genius, tortured, the real Heathcliff, etc. Never having read about him, I concocted a vision of him. In my vision, he was a tall, brooding pale male specimen, with auburn curls and possibly a beard. Hazel eyes, a reproachful voice, cigarette in hands. A nineteenth-century James Dean. I was a little upset to read that I'd gotten only the hair and skin color right. Apparently Branwell Bronte resembled a red-headed Woody Allen more than the fifties film icon.
Sadly, the rumors about the tortured mind were true. Honestly, the first couple of chapters were so dry that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to continue. But I did. The Bronte siblings had a sad early life: their mother and two older sisters passed away when Branwell, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne were all children. They had a loving father and aunt to take care of them, though- and although they weren't well-off, it doesn't appear that they were suffering for money either.
The Bronte siblings wove stories at a young age, collaborating on romantic epics when most people their age were probably playing kick-the-can or whatever 19th century kids did. Branwell was apparently the most prolific. He was "The Boy." And being the "Boy" in an all-girls family in the 1800s, big dreams were pinned upon him. Branwell was a genius- a multi-talented prodigy. He would shine, he would make his family proud.
Then things went downhill. First of all, his father refused to send him to school with his sisters. No reason for this decision is provided. Du Maurier speculates that something was wrong with him emotionally. She carries these speculations throughout the book- that maybe Branwell was epileptic or had some form of schizophrenia. But there is no concrete evidence that supports her speculations.
Apparently Branwell was cheerful good company, and a little full of himself (he was, after all, "The Son"). But whereas the Bronte sisters make it a point to earn steady incomes and write books, Branwell can't stick to one project, job, etc. He's aimless, and he changes his mind frequently. At 23, the "Son" that everyone had pinned such high hopes on is fired from two jobs as a rail station clerk. He's unemployed and mopes (trust me, in this economy, I can sympathize). He takes a job as a tutor and is fired from that for 'inappropriate conduct.' I think we can all read between the lines there, but it's still pure speculation as to what happened. Branwell tells his family that it was a love affair between him and the employer's wife, but Du Maurier has establised that Branwell often can't distinguish reality from fantasy. After that failed job, Branwell spends his time abusing alcohol and laudanum while his sisters make a living through their writing and teaching.
Branwell's story has a sad end- demise at age 31 from abuse of his body and a broken heart. But the thing is- again, what SPECIFICALLY caused Branwell to take this turn? DuMaurier chalks it up to his sensitive nature, combined with the deaths of his older sisters, the pressure of performing as the brilliant only son, and mental illness. The last factor is never proven- it seems that Branwell did have adult ADD possibly, but that's it. As for the sensitivity and family deaths, his sisters went through the same things he did, so what prompted them to soldier on and him to just give up?
This question got me thinking about larger issues, such as what specifically causes the members of the same close-knit family to diverge in such opposite directions? I think hardiness of character is a big role. DuMaurier doesn't come out and say this in her bio, but it's hard for the reader not to think it. An example:
Both Charlotte and Branwell had sent examples of their amateur work to Wordsworth for his commentary (which is kind of like me mailing my short stories to Margaret Atwood asking her to tell me if they're any good, but I digress). Branwell didn't receive a reply, and as for Charlotte, Wordsworth pretty much thought her a bimbo. Ouch! But where Branwell was floored by this and other failures, Charlotte persevered with her writing, even after her self-published poems and first novel failed.
I'm sympathetic to Branwell- it's hard not to be when you're done reading this book. But I also take it as a warning- make sure you're on the Charlotte path in life and not the Branwell.
Charlotte, the only Bronte sibling left after the fame said this about her brother, when trying to figure out how exactly he went wrong, "I seemed to receive an oppressive revelation of the feebleness of humanity; of the inadequacy of even genius to lead to true greatness if unaided by religion and principle."
It sounds harsh, but I think, and perhaps Du Maurier, if she were alive, would agree, that Branwell wanted the greatness of life, but not the effort that's needed to gain it. Still, he was his sister's muse and joy- I believe that his presence played a role in their feverish literary conceptions, and that's good enough for me.
PS- He didn't write WH, but it's possible that Emily had gotten the idea from him.
Now, I'd heard rumors- mostly college professor gossip- about Branwell during the years. That he really was the one who wrote Wuthering Heights (!!), that he was an addict, a failed genius, tortured, the real Heathcliff, etc. Never having read about him, I concocted a vision of him. In my vision, he was a tall, brooding pale male specimen, with auburn curls and possibly a beard. Hazel eyes, a reproachful voice, cigarette in hands. A nineteenth-century James Dean. I was a little upset to read that I'd gotten only the hair and skin color right. Apparently Branwell Bronte resembled a red-headed Woody Allen more than the fifties film icon.
Sadly, the rumors about the tortured mind were true. Honestly, the first couple of chapters were so dry that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to continue. But I did. The Bronte siblings had a sad early life: their mother and two older sisters passed away when Branwell, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne were all children. They had a loving father and aunt to take care of them, though- and although they weren't well-off, it doesn't appear that they were suffering for money either.
The Bronte siblings wove stories at a young age, collaborating on romantic epics when most people their age were probably playing kick-the-can or whatever 19th century kids did. Branwell was apparently the most prolific. He was "The Boy." And being the "Boy" in an all-girls family in the 1800s, big dreams were pinned upon him. Branwell was a genius- a multi-talented prodigy. He would shine, he would make his family proud.
Then things went downhill. First of all, his father refused to send him to school with his sisters. No reason for this decision is provided. Du Maurier speculates that something was wrong with him emotionally. She carries these speculations throughout the book- that maybe Branwell was epileptic or had some form of schizophrenia. But there is no concrete evidence that supports her speculations.
Apparently Branwell was cheerful good company, and a little full of himself (he was, after all, "The Son"). But whereas the Bronte sisters make it a point to earn steady incomes and write books, Branwell can't stick to one project, job, etc. He's aimless, and he changes his mind frequently. At 23, the "Son" that everyone had pinned such high hopes on is fired from two jobs as a rail station clerk. He's unemployed and mopes (trust me, in this economy, I can sympathize). He takes a job as a tutor and is fired from that for 'inappropriate conduct.' I think we can all read between the lines there, but it's still pure speculation as to what happened. Branwell tells his family that it was a love affair between him and the employer's wife, but Du Maurier has establised that Branwell often can't distinguish reality from fantasy. After that failed job, Branwell spends his time abusing alcohol and laudanum while his sisters make a living through their writing and teaching.
Branwell's story has a sad end- demise at age 31 from abuse of his body and a broken heart. But the thing is- again, what SPECIFICALLY caused Branwell to take this turn? DuMaurier chalks it up to his sensitive nature, combined with the deaths of his older sisters, the pressure of performing as the brilliant only son, and mental illness. The last factor is never proven- it seems that Branwell did have adult ADD possibly, but that's it. As for the sensitivity and family deaths, his sisters went through the same things he did, so what prompted them to soldier on and him to just give up?
This question got me thinking about larger issues, such as what specifically causes the members of the same close-knit family to diverge in such opposite directions? I think hardiness of character is a big role. DuMaurier doesn't come out and say this in her bio, but it's hard for the reader not to think it. An example:
Both Charlotte and Branwell had sent examples of their amateur work to Wordsworth for his commentary (which is kind of like me mailing my short stories to Margaret Atwood asking her to tell me if they're any good, but I digress). Branwell didn't receive a reply, and as for Charlotte, Wordsworth pretty much thought her a bimbo. Ouch! But where Branwell was floored by this and other failures, Charlotte persevered with her writing, even after her self-published poems and first novel failed.
I'm sympathetic to Branwell- it's hard not to be when you're done reading this book. But I also take it as a warning- make sure you're on the Charlotte path in life and not the Branwell.
Charlotte, the only Bronte sibling left after the fame said this about her brother, when trying to figure out how exactly he went wrong, "I seemed to receive an oppressive revelation of the feebleness of humanity; of the inadequacy of even genius to lead to true greatness if unaided by religion and principle."
It sounds harsh, but I think, and perhaps Du Maurier, if she were alive, would agree, that Branwell wanted the greatness of life, but not the effort that's needed to gain it. Still, he was his sister's muse and joy- I believe that his presence played a role in their feverish literary conceptions, and that's good enough for me.
PS- He didn't write WH, but it's possible that Emily had gotten the idea from him.
flamingo_and_owl_books's review against another edition
dark
informative
reflective
sad
slow-paced
3.0
laurenjpegler's review
4.0
This was a lovely biography dedicated to Branwell, the neglected sibling when it comes to non-fiction work. I will have a full review of this on my blog, and it goes live on Wednesday, so definitely give it a follow if you're interested in reading more.
My only qualm with this was the writing style. At times, it felt like it was a story rather than non-fiction. If you weren't that familiar with Branwell's life, or the life of the family, in all honesty, then you may question what du Maurier wrote quite a lot. Although, as someone who is aware of their lives, I quite like the style du Maurier adopted. It was a little bit of a weird situation, and I think whether you like it or not depends entirely on what you like your non-fiction to be like.
Another issue that annoyed me was du Maurier unnecessary and unwarranted comment on Anne's literary merit. Randomly, she suggested that Anne had 'less talent' than her siblings. That's not true, and it's a stupid comparison to make. Anne wrote realistically, whereas Emily, Charlotte and Branwell wrote, more often than not, romantically. It was just a stupid, unnecessary comment that furthers the notion that Anne is the forgotten and less talented sibling.
Other than that, a delightful read on Branwell. The narrative being solely dedicated to him allowed me to reflect on my feelings towards him, whilst being introduced to a lot of new writing from him. I would definitely recommend!
My only qualm with this was the writing style. At times, it felt like it was a story rather than non-fiction. If you weren't that familiar with Branwell's life, or the life of the family, in all honesty, then you may question what du Maurier wrote quite a lot. Although, as someone who is aware of their lives, I quite like the style du Maurier adopted. It was a little bit of a weird situation, and I think whether you like it or not depends entirely on what you like your non-fiction to be like.
Another issue that annoyed me was du Maurier unnecessary and unwarranted comment on Anne's literary merit. Randomly, she suggested that Anne had 'less talent' than her siblings. That's not true, and it's a stupid comparison to make. Anne wrote realistically, whereas Emily, Charlotte and Branwell wrote, more often than not, romantically. It was just a stupid, unnecessary comment that furthers the notion that Anne is the forgotten and less talented sibling.
Other than that, a delightful read on Branwell. The narrative being solely dedicated to him allowed me to reflect on my feelings towards him, whilst being introduced to a lot of new writing from him. I would definitely recommend!
jessthanthree's review against another edition
informative
reflective
slow-paced
3.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Chronic illness, Mental illness, Death, and Drug abuse
Moderate: Sexism, Child death, Death of parent, and Grief
alyson7's review against another edition
2.0
A month ago, I watched the BBC biopic on the Brontë sisters, To Walk Invisible. What struck me the most was the stark contrast between Branwell Brontë and his sisters. Unlike his sisters whose ambition motivated them into writing novels to support themselves, Branwell fell into a cycle of addiction. Branwell’s addiction to laudanum and alcohol became a lethal combination which eradicated all potential for his growth as an artist and writer.
When I first heard the title of Daphne du Maurier’s biography on Branwell, I was instantly roped into wanting to read this book. The Infernal World of Branwell Brontë has such a perfect ring to it that it could be a novel. Only one problem, it is very dull for the most part. Du Maurier invests in details that are either irrelevant or uninteresting. While I understand that this is a sign of great research, when discussing the railroad company in which Branwell was employed, she loses track of her subject and embarks on a tangent. I appreciate du Maurier’s thoroughness for detail, however, I would have preferred if she kept a closer eye on her subject rather than place a large focus on Branwell’s acquaintances histories.
Another problem that I encountered when reading du Maurier’s biography of Branwell was her speculative guesses throughout the book. She argues that Branwell and Emily closely collaborated on Wuthering Heights. While it is true that the Brontë siblings had collaborated on many writing projects in their youth, it cannot be assumed that some or most of the story belongs to Branwell. There is not enough written evidence that suggests that this occurred. Perhaps du Maurier included this speculation in order to account for the rumours that Branwell wrote Wuthering Heights in its entirety. As of today, these rumours have been dispelled as myth.
Also, throughout the book, du Maurier’s attitude towards Branwell shifts from reverence in his writing endeavours to absolute frustraition at Branwell’s lack of growth in his writing. While reading I kept wondering, was he a genius in his own way? Was he a failed genius with just as much potential as his sisters? It appears as if for the most part that du Maurier would argue that Branwell did not possess the same literary gifts as his sisters as seen in his failure to get published. In my opinion after reading the biography, if Branwell had coping skills equivalent to that of his sisters, he would have accomplished many great things. Unlike his sisters, Branwell, as the only son, was kept mostly at home during his youth and sheltered from the world. Branwell also experienced the deaths of his two elder sisters Maria and Elizabeth at a young age which continued to haunt him throughout the rest of his life. In this case, the Brontë sisters may have had an advantage over Branwell as the expectations placed upon them were fundamentally different. Therefore, Branwell’s infernal world was not necessarily his literary world as du Maurier states over and over, rather his infernal world was his substance abuse issues due to a lack of coping skills.
What I did enjoy about this biography is the inclusion of letters from Branwell, his family, friends, and acquaintances. These letters provided a breath of life into an otherwise dead and dull biography. When I read Branwell’s letters, I truly had the sense of who he was as a person. Additionally, through Charlotte’s letters I was able to comprehend how Charlotte felt for her siblings. After their death, she says:
“Waking, I think, sleeping I dream of them – and I cannot recall them as they were in health; still they appear to me in sickness and suffering. Still my nights were worst after the first shock of Branwell’s death. They were terrible then, and the impressions experienced on waking were at that time such as we do not put into language…” Charlotte Brontë, letter to Mr. Williams, June 25th, 1849. The Infernal World of Branwell Brontë, Daphne du Maurier
Although Charlotte was often worried and frustrated when it came to her brother as seen in her letters, her profound attachment to her siblings only adds to the tragedy surrounding Charlotte’s life.
I would recommend this book to those who are fascinated with the story of Branwell Brontë. The slow pace of this book and the conspiracy theories du Maurier added with little evidence made this book a slow and painful read. Therefore, be warned.
When I first heard the title of Daphne du Maurier’s biography on Branwell, I was instantly roped into wanting to read this book. The Infernal World of Branwell Brontë has such a perfect ring to it that it could be a novel. Only one problem, it is very dull for the most part. Du Maurier invests in details that are either irrelevant or uninteresting. While I understand that this is a sign of great research, when discussing the railroad company in which Branwell was employed, she loses track of her subject and embarks on a tangent. I appreciate du Maurier’s thoroughness for detail, however, I would have preferred if she kept a closer eye on her subject rather than place a large focus on Branwell’s acquaintances histories.
Another problem that I encountered when reading du Maurier’s biography of Branwell was her speculative guesses throughout the book. She argues that Branwell and Emily closely collaborated on Wuthering Heights. While it is true that the Brontë siblings had collaborated on many writing projects in their youth, it cannot be assumed that some or most of the story belongs to Branwell. There is not enough written evidence that suggests that this occurred. Perhaps du Maurier included this speculation in order to account for the rumours that Branwell wrote Wuthering Heights in its entirety. As of today, these rumours have been dispelled as myth.
Also, throughout the book, du Maurier’s attitude towards Branwell shifts from reverence in his writing endeavours to absolute frustraition at Branwell’s lack of growth in his writing. While reading I kept wondering, was he a genius in his own way? Was he a failed genius with just as much potential as his sisters? It appears as if for the most part that du Maurier would argue that Branwell did not possess the same literary gifts as his sisters as seen in his failure to get published. In my opinion after reading the biography, if Branwell had coping skills equivalent to that of his sisters, he would have accomplished many great things. Unlike his sisters, Branwell, as the only son, was kept mostly at home during his youth and sheltered from the world. Branwell also experienced the deaths of his two elder sisters Maria and Elizabeth at a young age which continued to haunt him throughout the rest of his life. In this case, the Brontë sisters may have had an advantage over Branwell as the expectations placed upon them were fundamentally different. Therefore, Branwell’s infernal world was not necessarily his literary world as du Maurier states over and over, rather his infernal world was his substance abuse issues due to a lack of coping skills.
What I did enjoy about this biography is the inclusion of letters from Branwell, his family, friends, and acquaintances. These letters provided a breath of life into an otherwise dead and dull biography. When I read Branwell’s letters, I truly had the sense of who he was as a person. Additionally, through Charlotte’s letters I was able to comprehend how Charlotte felt for her siblings. After their death, she says:
“Waking, I think, sleeping I dream of them – and I cannot recall them as they were in health; still they appear to me in sickness and suffering. Still my nights were worst after the first shock of Branwell’s death. They were terrible then, and the impressions experienced on waking were at that time such as we do not put into language…” Charlotte Brontë, letter to Mr. Williams, June 25th, 1849. The Infernal World of Branwell Brontë, Daphne du Maurier
Although Charlotte was often worried and frustrated when it came to her brother as seen in her letters, her profound attachment to her siblings only adds to the tragedy surrounding Charlotte’s life.
I would recommend this book to those who are fascinated with the story of Branwell Brontë. The slow pace of this book and the conspiracy theories du Maurier added with little evidence made this book a slow and painful read. Therefore, be warned.
shirin_mandi's review against another edition
3.0
دنیای جهنمی
ترجمه غلامحسین اعرابی
انتشارات اردیبهشت
1365 چاپ اول
ترجمه غلامحسین اعرابی
انتشارات اردیبهشت
1365 چاپ اول
katyl's review against another edition
3.0
I didn't find the old-fashioned style of this biography, first published 55 years ago, a problem, although I do feel that Ms du Maurier's writing elsewhere, for example in Rebecca, is superior. I was engaged by the subject matter & shed a tear at the end - & not for the first time - for poor Patrick & his huge losses. I also found that Branwell was portrayed in a more compassionate way than is sometimes the case, & this I thought appropriate; it's easy to be frustrated with the sheer waste of his talent, but Ms du Maurier strikes the right note in this respect in not being condemnatory of him.
However, I was concerned by the extent of conjecture in the book. Maybe this results partly from the period in which it was written, & later biographers have more material to draw on, but it wasn't clear to me whether the author was convinced that Branwell did have epilepsy, & the mention of schizophrenia was tantalisingly brief. A few judicious quotes from a neurologist & psychiatrist might have proved useful. I would also have preferred for the question about Branwell's knowing about his sisters' novels being published to have been explored more fully.
Another limitation that I believe stems from the attitudes of the time in which the book was written is the use of ideological presupposition that we would now see as ludicrous. Talking about Branwell 'not [being] a Yorkshireman at all', du Maurier claims:
'He had none of their determination, none of their strength of character', but instead 'belonged, by blood and by temperament, to the first feckless group from across the water'.
Ouch. I won't quote the passage in full because it is an ugly slur on the Irish, but sadly, it perhaps reflects the prevailing feeling of the mainland British of the time in which it was written (& tells us nothing about Branwell).
Nevertheless, the book was worth reading as an addition to the other works I've read about the family. I'll go back to the excellent 'The Brontes' by Juliet Barker for the many details I've forgotten, & look forward to Claire Harman's biography of Charlotte in paperback next year.
However, I was concerned by the extent of conjecture in the book. Maybe this results partly from the period in which it was written, & later biographers have more material to draw on, but it wasn't clear to me whether the author was convinced that Branwell did have epilepsy, & the mention of schizophrenia was tantalisingly brief. A few judicious quotes from a neurologist & psychiatrist might have proved useful. I would also have preferred for the question about Branwell's knowing about his sisters' novels being published to have been explored more fully.
Another limitation that I believe stems from the attitudes of the time in which the book was written is the use of ideological presupposition that we would now see as ludicrous. Talking about Branwell 'not [being] a Yorkshireman at all', du Maurier claims:
'He had none of their determination, none of their strength of character', but instead 'belonged, by blood and by temperament, to the first feckless group from across the water'.
Ouch. I won't quote the passage in full because it is an ugly slur on the Irish, but sadly, it perhaps reflects the prevailing feeling of the mainland British of the time in which it was written (& tells us nothing about Branwell).
Nevertheless, the book was worth reading as an addition to the other works I've read about the family. I'll go back to the excellent 'The Brontes' by Juliet Barker for the many details I've forgotten, & look forward to Claire Harman's biography of Charlotte in paperback next year.
outsmartyourshelf's review
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
slow-paced
3.5
I've always been interested in reading anything about the Brontes. I grew up under two hours away from Haworth so visited the museum several times, & their tragic lives resonated with teenage me who was obsessed with all things literary & cultural from the nineteenth-century. It is still one of my favourite time periods to read about. I digress - I saw this book when a Goodreads friend added it to their page & I wondered why I'd never heard of it before. Written by Daphne Du Maurier no less.
Patrick Branwell Bronte has always been the least well known of the four surviving siblings. Yet in his early life he showed equal promise, being the main inspiration or "Genius Brannii" of their early literary exploits. Vocationally, both his father & his maternal aunt expected great things from him, unfortunately his character wasn't up to the task of being the sole heir on which the weight of family expectations rested. He seemed to tire of things easily leaving both poems & commissioned portraits half-finished. Although the loss of so many family members (mother, two older sisters, & later their aunt) affected all of them, Branwell was especially haunted by the death of oldest sister, Maria. Tragedy dogged all their footsteps & yet Charlotte, Emily, & Anne had a strength of character which Branwell didn't, though to be fair they were not allowed the opportunities to drink to excess or socialise as Branwell did.
Du Maurier obviously consulted many original sources, some of which are directly quoted from - perhaps a little too much at times. The fact that many letters & early poems were said to be destroyed is such a shame, as it means a fair amount of extrapolation has to be done. I'm not convinced the evidence is strong enough that Branwell could claim even part credit for Wuthering Heights, but I did find Du Maurier's hypothesis about the rumoured love affair with the wife of his employer, Mrs Lydia Robinson (Mrs Robinson - ha), being a cover story made more sense than the version usually found in other books.
Overall, whilst I enjoyed reading it, it didn't hold the attention as well as other books on the same subject have done.
Patrick Branwell Bronte has always been the least well known of the four surviving siblings. Yet in his early life he showed equal promise, being the main inspiration or "Genius Brannii" of their early literary exploits. Vocationally, both his father & his maternal aunt expected great things from him, unfortunately his character wasn't up to the task of being the sole heir on which the weight of family expectations rested. He seemed to tire of things easily leaving both poems & commissioned portraits half-finished. Although the loss of so many family members (mother, two older sisters, & later their aunt) affected all of them, Branwell was especially haunted by the death of oldest sister, Maria. Tragedy dogged all their footsteps & yet Charlotte, Emily, & Anne had a strength of character which Branwell didn't, though to be fair they were not allowed the opportunities to drink to excess or socialise as Branwell did.
Du Maurier obviously consulted many original sources, some of which are directly quoted from - perhaps a little too much at times. The fact that many letters & early poems were said to be destroyed is such a shame, as it means a fair amount of extrapolation has to be done. I'm not convinced the evidence is strong enough that Branwell could claim even part credit for Wuthering Heights, but I did find Du Maurier's hypothesis about the rumoured love affair with the wife of his employer, Mrs Lydia Robinson (Mrs Robinson - ha), being a cover story made more sense than the version usually found in other books.
Overall, whilst I enjoyed reading it, it didn't hold the attention as well as other books on the same subject have done.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism
Moderate: Terminal illness and Child death