Elvis Presley was one of my first celebrity crushes. Several years ago, I went to Tennessee for a friend’s wedding and visited Graceland while there. I also toured Sun Studios and saw a microphone Elvis had used during recording sessions. My legs and feet felt kind of wobbly when the tour guide clutched the mike stand. I had experienced a similar reaction upon first viewing a manuscript of Jane Eyre at the British Museum in 1996.
Charlotte’s cursive handwriting seemed like it was going to leap off the page. Looking upon Brontë’s great masterpiece, I felt as if I’d inadvertently stumbled upon the Holy Grail. If you’re a Brontëite, you know the feeling. Like many Elvis fans, I’d say Brontëites are a pretty devoted bunch. When a newly discovered poem or letter surfaces, we feel that the world has become a better place.
Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I am a hardcore Brontëite. My twitter handle is @CubanBrontëite. My bookshelves are lined with Jane Eyre, Villete, Wide Sargasso Sea, The Madwoman in the Attic, the Bantam paperback of Jane Eyre, the Broadway edition, several graphic versions, the three massive volumes of Brontë’s correspondence edited by Margaret Smith—almost every footnote after each letter is a universe in itself, a microcosm teeming with details that help readers understand the famous author and her times a bit better. You get the picture. Brontëites can’t get enough.
April marks National Poetry Month in the United States and the bicentennial of Charlotte Brontë’s birth in Great Britain. Though Charlotte is best known for authoring Jane Eyre, her first substantial publication was a volume of poetry, a compilation published by the three sisters under the pseudonyms of Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell—that sold only two copies in the first year. This fact consoles me often because I too write poetry. After many rejections, my first full-length poetry collection—The Jane and Bertha in Me—has finally found a home at Aldrich Press, an independent publisher. Many friends and fellow writers have asked, Why a whole book of poems? Why Jane Eyre?
My simple answer is that Jane Eyre is as relevant now as ever. It’s tough to dislike a heroine who stands up to bullies of all ages—who lives by the dictates of conscience though they aren’t always easy to follow. I was a junior in high school when I first read Brontë’s timeless Gothic romance. My twenty-year high school reunion took place three years ago, so I’ll let you do the math. The older I get, the more I hope to emulate Jane: to be kind yet firm in resolve.
Many Brontëites will pilgrimage to Haworth in Yorkshire to visit Brontë’s grave and the Brontë Parsonage Museum for special exhibits, workshops, and festivities this spring. Next year heralds the bicentennial of the birth of Emily Brontë, famous for penning Wuthering Heights. In fact, bicentennial celebrations will be ongoing for four years in the UK. Lucky duckies! New Yorkers will also get in on the action. An exhibit will travel to the Pierpont Morgan Library to commemorate the bicentenary, which will include a Charlotte Brontë dress, some of her artwork, and one of her miniature handmade books.
As I type this I am living in Miami, Florida—far removed from Yorkshire’s moors and Facebook friends scattered across the four corners of the Earth, readers who love Jane as much as I do. On Charlotte Brontë’s birthday, I will be thinking of her and fellow Brontëites as I read poetry or take in a double dose of Edward Rochester by way of Toby Stephens and Michael Fassbender. In this, surely I will not be alone. It’s a great time to be a Brontëite.
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