The Brontë sisters - Charlotte, Emily and Anne - are some of the best-known, and best-loved, English authors.
But less well-known were the two other Brontë sisters, Maria and Elizabeth, who died before reaching adulthood, and their brother Branwell, who was haunted by his own demons until his death in his thirties.
Their home, Haworth Parsonage, stood on the edge of the Yorkshire Moors like a rock in a tempest.
After the death of Maria and Elizabeth, the four remaining children returned to its cheerless rooms and dreamed their wild and shining fantasies, bound together by a mutual passion for literature and for their beloved moors.
Forced by poverty to emerge from Haworth to earn their living, the sisters were set free to write their extraordinary novels.
But for their brother, it meant ruin.
In ‘Dark Quartet’ Lynne Reid Banks tells the beautiful, haunting story of the Brontë family and their perilous path to fame.
‘Thoroughly gripping’ — Cosmopolitan
‘Lynne Reid Banks has written an exciting and absorbing book and has offered us her answers to some of the mysteries of the lives of the Brontës’ — Irish Times
‘A novel which will open many eyes afresh to the lives of the remarkable and gifted Brontës’ — Yorkshire Post
Lynne Reid Banks is a best-selling British author for both children and adults. Her first novel, ‘The L-Shaped Room’, was adapted into a successful film, as was her children’s book ‘The Indian in the Cupboard’. Her account of the lives of the Brontës, ‘Dark Quartet’, won the Yorkshire Arts Association Award and was followed by a sequel, ‘Path to the Silent Country: Charlotte Bronte’s Years of Fame’.
Endeavour Press is the UK's leading independent publisher of digital books.
Lynne Reid Banks is a British author of books for children and adults. She has written forty books, including the best-selling children's novel The Indian in the Cupboard, which has sold over 10 million copies and been made into a film. Banks was born in London, the only child of James and Muriel Reid Banks. She was evacuated to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada during World War II but returned after the war was over. She attended St Teresa's School in Surrey. Prior to becoming a writer Banks was an actress, and also worked as a television journalist in Britain, one of the first women to do so. Her first novel, The L-Shaped Room, was published in 1960. In 1962 Banks emigrated to Israel, where she taught for eight years on an Israeli kibbutz Yasur. In 1965 she married Chaim Stephenson, with whom she had three sons. Although the family returned to England in 1971 and Banks now lives in Dorset, the influence of her time in Israel can be seen in some of her books which are set partially or mainly on kibbutzim.
I read this book right after reading Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. Last year, I read and liked her younger sister Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. I liked "Jane Eyre" too but if my bookshelf had only 1 more space left for a book, I would choose "Wuthering." In my opinion, the only edge of "Jane Eyre" over "Wuthering" is its readability. But in terms of the intensity of the story, characters, plot, setting, poetic prose and the emotional impact and images they left behind in my brain, "Wuthering" leaves "Jane Eyre" by a mile.
I am now reading the youngest sister, Anne Bronte's The Tenant of the Wildfell Hall and I am also enjoying it. My passion for reading only started when I joined Goodreads in 2009 and I am really amazed on how the three sisters could write so well with styles so differently from each other despite living in the same environment while growing up.
Because I liked both "Wuthering" and "Jane Eyre," I picked up and decided to read this book Dark Quartet by the author of The Indian in the Cupboard Lynne Reid Banks (born 1929). It tells the story of the Bronte family. The story opens with six children playing in the room of their house Haworth. Six because Maria, Elizabeth and Branwell are still alive. The two perished early due to tuberculosis so Branwell completes the "quartet" in the title. The "dark" in the title is due to the fact that the four went through sad and lonely lives when the father becomes sickly and dead living the "responsibility" of supporting the family to the weak-willed Branwell who succumbs to alcohol and a series of wrong decision, including falling in love with a wrong woman, lead to his downfall. I was surprised reading the hint that Branwell could be the writer or at least co-writer of "Wuthering" since he was a writer and a poet too. But I would think that Branwell might as well be Emily's inspiration for Heathcliff's free-spirited but obsessed character.
Unlike the Bronte's works, Banks' contemporary English is a breeze to read. I particularly enjoyed the time when they were creating their own imaginary worlds using the miniature army, people, animals and houses their father Patrick Bronte gave them for toys. Also, Patrick was their first teacher and he inculcated their passion for writing, creative thinking and love for God (Patrick was a curator).
Banks did a good job using the available facts about the Brontes to come up with a believable story of their lives. I am not sure how true are those tragedies that Branwell got himself into, or the opinion of Charlotte to her sisters' earlier two works, "Wuthering" and "Agnes Grey", when she felt she did not like them but she wanted them to be as successful as "Jane Eyre." But the ending of the book is left hanging and Banks gave a hint that she would write a book solely on Charlotte Bronte's solitary (the only surviving Bronte) life before her own death at the age of 39. What a waste. All these talented Brontes dying at their very early ages.
Nevertheless, they all left us true legacies - their brilliant works. So, dying young is not a total waste if the works that you are leaving behind can make you immortal.
This is probably one of the most unique and wonderfully-penned biographies I have ever read. This is the fourth biography of the infamous Bronte family that I have read this year alone, as I love experiencing the different sides to their characters each illuminates and the different aspects of their lives that each biographer feels the most appropriate to detail.
This, however, was the most unique in construction as it deviated from the expected non-fiction design to deliver dialogue and atmospheric scenes alongside the facts of their extraordinary lives. I found this kept my engagement and intrigue consistently piqued, as it often read like a novelisation of their lives. It also delivered the most emotion for this reason, something I often find lacking in much non-fiction.
I feel I can not award this the full five-stars, however great my enjoyment, as I can not know which scenes were based on fact and which were purely a dramatisation. No postscript was provided and I would have appreciated perhaps footnotes to answer this query and to then consider this both the most factually illuminating as well as the most enjoyable Bronte biography there is.
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to the author, Lynne Reid Banks, and the publisher, Sapere Books, for this opportunity.
When I first heard about this book several years ago, I thought, "Wow, a biographical novel about the Brontës--what a cool idea!" Though I enjoyed the book very much while reading it, I'm now convinced that the idea was a terrible one.
I'm upset because the author claimed to be "harnessed to the truth" while writing this book, but several events that are presented as facts are very unlikely to be true in any form. The most egregious one for me is the assertion that Branwell Brontë experienced something between a gang rape and an orgy with a group of poor Irish workmen while he was at Luddenden Foot. When I read this, my jaw dropped, but it didn't occur to me at first that it might not be true. But after a conversation, I did some research on this and a couple other surprising revelations in the book. And, among other things, Gillian Barker says these laborers didn't even exist at the time! Argh!
The frustrating thing is that this kind of embellishment was completely unnecessary--Branwell did plenty of scandalous, debauched things that are well-documented. So why risk your credibility as an author by going so far out on a limb? I believe that if you choose to write a biographical book without footnotes, you have a responsibility to be careful and honest. I don't think this author lived up to her responsibility. (Based on this experience, I also think it might never be a good idea to write a biographical book without footnotes.)
Essentially, I feel betrayed by the author, which counterbalances the joy I experienced while reading.
It grew on me. There was something a little heavy-footed to the writing in this novel based on the lives of the Bronte siblings - perhaps less a novel than a stolid novelisation (if one can be stolid while quietly fangirling, Victorian-style). And yet, it was increasingly absorbing. What fascinating and astonishing women they were. It certainly makes you think about many things - creativity, isolation, constraint, freedom. Looking forward to revisiting their work. 3.5.
I view any “fictional biography” as a creative work of the imagination. While authors may rely on previous biographies, memoirs, letters, and other extant material, in the long run, they will, perforce, invent dialogue, emotional and physical reactions, and environmental descriptions simply because that is required content for any work of fiction. With that in mind, I would have favored that Lynne Reid Banks had subtitled Dark Quartet as “A” Story of the Brontës, using the indefinite article rather than the definite article, as in “The” Story of the Brontës.
Having said that, kudos to Ms. Banks for writing a lovely blend of fact and fiction to please the likes of someone like myself, who has read numerous nonfictional works on the Brontës. The blend is seamless, such that Ms. Banks’s invented work dovetails nicely with fact in an authentic, credible way. She appeared to work hard to capture not just the language of the early nineteenth century, but also the daily lives of such a family living in the social class of their clergyman father.
Several surprising aspects of this story make it quite unique. First, it is an astonishing instance of a literary family. The father, Patrick Brontë was the first to publish poems, pamphlets, and newspaper articles. A leaning towards poetry obviously flowed from father to children, for Charlotte, Branwell, Emily, and Anne all published some poetry. Subsequently, of course, Charlotte gave us Jane Eyre, Shirley, Villette, and The Professor; Emily penned Wuthering Heights; and Anne wrote Agnes Grey and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.
A second (and probably little-known fact) is that were originally six Brontë children. Two older sisters, Maria and Elizabeth, preceded the aforementioned siblings, and Maria went on to immortality as the stoical, saintly, and long-suffering Helen Burns in Jane Eyre.
And from this brood of Brontë children grew yet another unique and tragic outcome. Surely no family experienced such collective tragedy in such a short time. For example, in the year following her sixth child, the mother died. Then, thanks to the chronically bad diet and unhygienic living conditions of charity schools, Maria and Elizabeth passed away from consumption at ages 11 and 10, meaning the remaining siblings suffered this loss while still in single-digit ages. Later in the space of two years, Branwell, Emily, and Anne passed away at ages 31, 30, and 29, leaving Charlotte as the lone sibling survivor. But she, too, died prematurely at age 39, meaning father Patrick suffered the unimaginable experience of burying all six of his children!
Despite the large number of children, Ms. Banks has done an excellent job of defining wholly three-dimensional characters with different natures and interesting sibling dependencies. They were a lonely family in a tiny village with poor educational infrastructure on the edge of the desolate, wild North York Moors. Nevertheless, access to a largely liberal and uncensored wealth of information provided by the father’s subscriptions to contemporary periodicals accounted for the significant intellectual prowess among the children as they began composing stories at an early age. The stories were fantastic creations, whole worlds and populations with authentic leaders, movers, and shakers, based on figures such as Napoleon, Wellington, and Byron.
Notwithstanding such exposure to sources of creativity, I would argue that it was only Emily’s Wuthering Heights that was a pure, imaginative work of fiction, whereas Charlotte and Anne’s works were heavily semi-autobiographical.
In Dark Quartet, Lynne Reid Banks offers a valuable service to readers who want to consume Brontë biography in fine, absorbing, storytelling form. For those who want a more fulsome, linear biography of the whole family, I recommend Juliet Barker’s The Brontës and The Brontës: A Life in Letters. Reading Ms. Banks’s and Ms. Barker’s books will provide wonderful insights to all the novels by the Brontës themselves.
An even better experience to understand the towering contribution by this family to literature, is to visit the home they occupied in Haworth Village, now a museum in Yorkshire, England; to stand in the cramped parlor where they wrote and read their in-progress compositions to each other; and to walk on the bleak, heathery moors in the footsteps of Emily as she stumbled onto a ruined stone farmhouse, thought to be the inspiration behind Wuthering Heights.
I had been saving Dark Quartet for a long time, waiting for Brooding about the Brontës. Having read and adored Jude Morgan's The Taste of Sorrow a good few years ago, I had high hopes of a similarly interesting piece of biographical literary fiction. As a long term-fan of Banks' The Indian in the Cupboard series as well as The L-Shaped Room, I was also interested to explore her work further. In her foreword, Banks explains that she had not 'let [her] imagination run riot' but rather kept it 'harnessed to the truth'. Surely, the Brontë story would be in safe hands?
Banks takes up the reins of the story just at the point before eldest sisters Maria and Elizabeth Brontë set off for Cowan Bridge. As she acknowledged herself, Banks has clearly been an avid reader of Mrs Gaskell and given that the book was published in 1977, it has dated a little. The early chapters feel like a tick-box of Brontë mythology with the only major departure being that Banks' version of Patrick Brontë is a weak and absent father rather than a domineering one.
We follow the rest of the girls to Cowan Bridge, see Maria and Elizabeth sicken and die under the ghastly regime of Carus Wilson and then the surviving sisters return home. Branwell is early introduced as a problem 'almost demonic' child, with Daphne du Maurier's Infernal World of Branwell Brontë an obvious and heavy influence on how Banks imagined him. It surprises me how many people appear to have read Dark Quartet and Infernal World and taken it as fact that Branwell was epileptic and an atheist - there is not much in the way of evidence for either.
Branwell steals the show from a lot of Dark Quartet, from his boyhood refusing to look upon his dead sister in her casket and wandering around shrieking about being the clever one to his adolescence where Banks has him retreat further and further into the persona of Angrian avatar Northangerland. I am always suspicious of versions of the story which place the spotlight on Branwell and Banks is clearly fascinated. Seduced by du Maurier's vision of him, Banks recounts how Branwell lost all his money during a trip to London to join the Royal Academy, despite evidence suggesting that Branwell never actually applied or visited the capital. The stories about him grow increasingly lurid, culminating in a disturbing episode where Banks describes in detached tones that Branwell is apparently gang-raped by a group of Irish labourers. At this point, I nearly gave up on the book. Banks had promised that she was not going to let her imagination run away with her - I felt let down.
It's hardly surprising from there that Banks subscribes to the idea that Branwell was dismissed from his tutor post at Thorp Green less for having an affair with his employer's wife as for making advances towards his employer's son. This is full-on du Maurier territory and I again have to remind myself that Dark Quartet was published twenty years before Juliet Barker's biography established the timeline around Branwell's dismissal and that he was not left alone with his young charge at any point. Barker also pointed out that there were no Irish labourers in the area at the time that Branwell was a railway clerk, so the gang rape is also a product of Banks' own over-heated imagination egged on by du Maurier's suggestion. I found it distasteful to make up a non-existent trauma to excuse Branwell's selfish behaviour but given how far Banks had already exaggerated his conduct, perhaps I should not have been surprised.
The biggest reason why I just could not take to Dark Quartet was that the the characterisation never seemed to take. I was never able to lose sight of this being Lynne Reid Banks' description of each member of the Brontë family rather than them seeming truly alive of the page. Aunt Branwell is an early example, with Banks recounting how she 'did not know how to talk to God. She spoke to him in respectful formulas memorised from authorised books of devotion.' Aunt Branwell is one of the more shadowy figures within the family with the most room for imaginative scope and still Banks tells, tells, tells and never allows the character to show us anything. Given that this is biographical fiction rather than pure biography, this really interrupts the flow of the story. Phrases like 'Emily's relations with Branwell at this time were slightly distanced by their separate life-experiences and current preoccupations' hardly make the two of them come alive once more.
For all that, there were moments in Dark Quartet that hint at what it might have been. Banks' version of Anne's relationship with William Weightman is more credible in that she keeps it to a lost potential rather than whipping it up into Anne's driving force as other writers have done. The agony of Patrick's guilt after the deaths of Maria and Elizabeth was another interesting moment. Perhaps fittingly, the must successful moment of the novel comes in the final pages. As Charlotte returns from Scarborough after Anne's death, I was touched by her quiet determination to seek solace in her writing as a 'Godsent remedy' for her grief. The way Banks imagined the iron within Charlotte that refused to buckle reminded me of Scarlett O'Hara in the closing pages of Gone With The Wind. She will not think of the past or the future, only focus on the moment and putting one foot in front of the other.
Dark Quartet speaks in the tone of a biographer but uses the methods of a novelist. Reading it in tandem with Infernal World perhaps made me too attuned to the close relationship between the two books and Banks has taken a lot of du Maurier's wilder speculations as fact. Reaching the end, I wanted more than anything to turn back and reread Jude Morgan's The Taste of Sorrow, I appreciated all over again how Morgan's use of silences said so much while Banks' paragraphs upon paragraphs left so little mark. I have a suspicion that Dark Quartet might have suited me better had I not read it in the midst of a flurry of biographies but despite my best efforts towards enthusiasm, I felt only disappointment.
I really enjoyed this biographical novel about the Brontes. The author had clearly done her homework and didn’t allow her imagination to take too many liberties with the facts. If I allowed myself to be too analytical I think I could probably find one or two incidents in the book that seemed to blur the line between fact and fiction just a tad too much – particularly with regards to Branwell – but overall I found the book a thoroughly entertaining and engaging read.
I bought this title at a yard sale. Having never read anything written by any of the Bronte family, I hoped this would help me decide which famous novel I should read first. Well I haven't made a decision but I really enjoyed this book... in fact, I was moved to tears at the end. That never happened to me before.
Beautiful novel concerning three of the most cherished english authors (and favourites of mine) . I loved this novel especially the years of adulthood. Reid Banks chose carefully each word in this novel and that labour of love is exquisite to the reader.
This is a fascinating novelization/biography of the four Bronte siblings, three of whom are responsible for literary masterpieces that still resonate to this day.
While it was a bit on the long side, the writing was never dull. I believe Lynne Reid Banks to have relied somewhat on speculation for some of the events, but she also roots her action in the real letters and documentation that exist for the Bronte family. I thus feel that I've been given a fair view of their personalities and lives.
Each person in the family comes across with a distinct tone--ambitious, passionate Charlotte; hermitlike, brilliant Emily; sweet, persevering Anne; and...Branwell...promising but weak. I was so pulled into the story of the three sisters and how their rich inner lives clashed with their narrow circumstances. Though this book ends with the sad deaths of three of the siblings, I am looking forward to the sequel, which details how Charlotte pushes forward with her writing.
Thanks to NetGalley and Sapere Books for providing me with a free digital review copy of this new edition.
I was attracted to this book for two reasons: Jane Eyre is one of my favourite books and Lynne Reid Banks is an author I admire. But I am not at all keen on fictionalised biography and, really, what more is there to say about the Brontes? And when I began reading I was at first put off by what seemed a pastiche of "Bronte style" in the writing.
But within a very short time I was totally gripped. The writing style, in places febrile and overblown, is in fact perfectly suited to the story and indeed tells it in a way that makes it quite new, with insights into each character that transcend the familiar biographies. I was particularly struck by the portrayals of Patrick Bronte and his sister, Aunt Branwell, and their steadfast affection for the troubled children. A fine piece of fictionalised biography.
This novel covers the lives of all the Brontes, apart from Charlotte, who lived longest and whose story is continued in a sequel. It gave me loads of information about the siblings and I certainly feel that I understand them better and can differentiate between the three girls in particular now, as well as having some idea of how they came to write their novels. It's not always easy reading, but that is the problem with telling a true story; you can't just change it as you want to make it more exciting! Charlotte especially doesn't come across as being a very nice person, as she is too intense and verging on the self-righteous, but in her defence, she does have a lot to contend with. Worth reading.
I love that I’m obsessed with these girlies, they’re so fascinating - they wrote timeless classics yet in some ways their lives were the opposite of a classic life of a woman in the 1840s. They earnt money, travelled, didn’t marry, indulged in education- lived their lives how they wanted.
Through everything they kept going. They are the true role models of never giving up, keep trying and something will work. (Apart from Branwell who simply crippled in the pressure of having to provide)
This biographical novel draws the reader into the eccentric and introspective world of the Bronte siblings, showing the influences which formed their creative imagination, their physical and mental struggles and the tragedies, successes and failures of their final years.
If Branwell Brontë has no haters I’m dead! If the Brontë sisters have no fans I’m also dead! I loved this book more than I can describe! Thank you Lynne Reid Banks for bringing my beloved Brontë sisters to life!
Paperback edition. I first read this in 1979 and have reread it several times over the past 45 years. It remains my favourite book about the Brontës. The four surviving children are given equal status and the known facts about their lives incorporated into a coherent, easy to read, story. The influences on their published writings are made clear but not in a heavy handed way.
As a fan of the Brontë sisters I take every opportunity to read something about their lives. It does not matter that you already know most things, each writer always has something to add to the whole story.
This book is a biographical or historical fiction of the four Brontë siblings. I love historical fiction so looked forward reading this. However, it is difficult to write biographical fiction about such loved characters as the Brontës. All the fans have their own view on how they were and how they lived. Lynne Reid Banks book is a master piece in this sense. I must admit that I had some difficulties getting into the book and the first part, the very start of the story, did not appeal to me. I found the writing a mixture between non-fiction and fiction. However, that changed rather quickly.
The more I got into the book, the more I was amazed how well she describes the siblings, as well as other characters connected to them. She has created their characters from what is known of them and from their writings, and at least for me, this is really spot on as I imagined them to be. She makes them so real, they just come into life in front of your eyes. Telling the stories from each of the siblings' point of view, you find out that they are all four very different characters.
Branwell’s story is always sad. A probably talented person who did not have the strength and character to go through with his projects. His overestimation of his own talent, his use of drugs and alcohol took him from a promising youth to a miserable adult. Maybe the hopes for him, as the man in the family, and thus, the person who should support his sisters, were to much for him to bear.
Charlotte, the eldest sister, always took care of the others. She had her happiness for a short time in her life, and managed with her will and her love for writing to fulfil her life. Her love for M. Heger is delicately described, and her longing for him, once she is back in England, is so well written that I think we can all feel what she felt.
Emily, the loner, loving her dog and the moors. She was a tough, but still vulnerable figure, with a lot of wild passion inside her. She held it under tight reins but she could let it show when she walked her beloved moors and in her masterpiece Wuthering Heights. She could not bear to be away from Haworth and suffered incredibly the three times she ventured out into the world.
Anne, the youngest sister was very gentle. She seemed fragile, but was maybe the strongest of them all, in her religious beliefs and her stubbornness to finish what she had started. For several years she worked as a governess to help earn money for the family. Branwell got his job as a tutor to the son at Green Thorpe through her, but it ended in disastrous results when he fell in love with the wife.
The brother and sisters are beautifully and lovingly portrayed in this book. The description of the scenery and the people surrounding the siblings, is very well done, and makes it very real. Their lives are told from the angle of each one of them, which makes it even more fascinating. The same situations are interpreted from different sides and different persons.
Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, have been read by generations ever since they were written. Here you enter into passionate stories of strong characters, feelings and passions, and in the background is always the moors. The sense of desolation in their books seems to have come from their daily lives. I found that Lynne Reid Banks have managed to keep this special atmosphere in her telling of their story. The book brought me back to the times of the Brontës, and it was as exciting and passionate, as to read one of their books. It really took some time to come back to the 21st century once I finished it. If you love the Brontës, and if you love biographical fiction, this is a book for you.
This book was given to me for free from Endeavour Press. The views put forward are my own personal views.
Upon finishing this amazing history of the Brontës, I immediately ordered the second book in the series. The title here could refer to the 4 Brontë sisters who died in this book, or to the 4 Brontë siblings who survived childhood. Author Lynne Reid Banks brings Haworth Parsonage to life, from its staff and family members to its very surroundings, delving into the Brontë family quirks to such readable depth it is astounding how nature, nurture, religion, Victorian Era sexism, and rootless fantasy resulted in a mixture of utter genius and instability; or to paraphrase Charlotte, "disappointed expectations is what causes the strangeness".
Reverend Patrick Brontë's wife died early at the age of 38, leaving him six children ranging in age from 0-7; to say that their home on the Yorkshire moors was gloomy is an understatement. If there are parenting lessons to be learned here they are, take coughing seriously, and neither over-indulge nor neglect your kids. These kids were as painfully shy and ridiculously awkward in public as they were brilliantly genius secluded together amid the comfort of home. By 1829 they were a tight group of writers, artists, political commentators, and collaborators. Branwell the lone son, was raised to believe he could do no wrong, that he was destined for greatness, that he was singularly gifted. The irony is that his clever trio of sisters Charlotte, Emily and Anne got themselves published incognito as Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell and are celebrated authors today, while his name alone is shrouded in shame and scandal (addiction, egotism, debauchery).
Everybody knows Mrs. Robinson is a term used to describe an older woman pursuing someone younger than herself, in reference to the character from the 1967 movie The Graduate. I found it wildly interesting that a Mrs. Robinson seduced Branwell Brontë, her son's tutor, over a hundred years earlier, around 1845!
Having been a long-time fan of Charlotte Bronte and Lynne Red Banks, I approached this book with some excitement. However, this novel exceeded my expectations. It is a treasure. Banks helps us to see how the changing events of each Bronte siblings' life was a function of place, time, and temperament. For instance, the fact that the family was poor but attempted to fulfill particular intellectual aspirations, was of immeasurable importance to some of the traumas they endured early in life, events that created a melancholic outlooks that imbued their artistic works. I also found quite illuminating the role of Branwell Bronte, the brother upon whom the hopes of the family were pinned. For example, he played an especially seminal role in nurturing Charlotte's talent for narrative.
I believe that this work stands on its own. Enjoyment can be derived even if a reader does not have a particular appreciation of the Bronte sisters' writings. Still, if one does love Shirley, The Professor, Villette, all the better! Rich connections can be made between events and persons in the sisters' lives, and the happenings and characters in their novels.
As I approached the end of the book, I became worried. I thought that Banks' was going to truncate the last important segment of Charlotte Bronte's life. However, she informs us that that last period is sufficiently noteworthy to warrant its own treatment. Hopefully, this is the promise of a sequel.
This biographical novel from 1973 about the brilliant siblings from Haworth is an intense and mind-blowing read. Lynne Reid Banks thoroughly did her homework. Her forays into the inner lives of these four seem (mostly) consistent with what has been confirmed about them from the reams of correspondence they've left behind. Leaving room for poetic license, the book is sensitively written, with threshed out trajectories all round. Its title is well chosen, for their true lives were surely as Gothic and harrowing as anything they ever wrote.
It's hard to decide where to jump in and discuss something with so broad and deep a canvas, so I'll tackle each of the four main subjects according to birth order.
The book delves into Charlotte's intense, private guilt, for feeling more passionate about her own secret world than she does about the conventional Anglican Christianity that is preached all around her. Yet she cannot change a thing, spurred on by the physical excitement she generates inside herself by her characters' elicit passions. (Whoa!) Even the poet laureate, Robert Southey, writes Charlotte a stern warning, to the effect that young ladies shouldn't let their imaginations run away with them. But any resolutions to guard her thoughts are feeble, since the fantasy world she's created is all-consuming. According to her aunt's and father's Calvinistic tinged strictures, Charlotte can't help fearing she must be damned.
Branwell comes across as witty, highly-strung, ever on the verge of breakdown, and in all likelihood a pain in the neck. He's not a fraction as confident as he tries to appear. Rather, he's a tortured soul who fears he'll always be a fall-short, unable to muster what it must take to satisfy the high hopes his family have pinned on him. He's undisciplined and reactive, allowing himself to be tossed about by any wind blowing. His petit mal seizures, commonly known as absence seizures today, alarm his family. (I know other biographers throughout the years conjecture that it was epilepsy.) And he seems to be allergic to actually finishing anything.
I find Banks' dour dramatic version of Emily hard to like but easy to admire. Blunt and reclusive, she's also a nature mystic, but specifically for one spot; her beloved Yorkshire Moors. This goes hand in hand with a weird astral travel ability. (Did she really experience these out-of-body journeys? I can't find any factual backup.) A great admirer of strength and determination, she scorns herself as a weakling for retreating from Roe Head school with intense homesickness, but directs her self-criticism into shaping her writing to be the finest it possibly can.
Anne, perhaps the least 'dark' of the quartet, takes upon herself the earnest anxiety of a youngest child to see everyone happy and content around her; an impossible task with her complex siblings and vulnerable father. (I still think she should have quit her position with the Ingham family, rather than gritting her teeth and toughing it out because she had something to prove. Hence she ends up being fired, which I can't help thinking was partly her own fault. See my review of Agnes Grey, her biographical novel.)
It's all such interesting fodder, including Emily's hero worship of her employer, Miss Elizabeth Patchett, who resembles a favorite heroine Emily has created; and the formally written marriage proposal Charlotte receives from Henry Nussey, which may have influenced that abysmal proposal made by St. John Rivers to Jane Eyre. We meet the sunny natured curate, Willy Weightman, such a contrast to the dark quartet that all four can't help basking under his refreshing influence. There's a plausible reason why Branwell, in a fit of gloom, scrubs himself out of the famous pillar painting. And I love Charlotte's brush with the Catholic priest who tells her, 'Those who suffer as you are suffering often have a vocation to ease the anguish of others.'
Of course Banks introduces the two married people who Charlotte and Branwell fall for. Monsieur Heger is depicted as a principled and decent (albeit overbearing) guy whose powerful sway over Charlotte occurs despite himself, but Mrs Lydia Robinson is portrayed as a heartless and duplicitous cougar.
I seem to remember reading somewhere that when Elizabeth Gaskell wrote her 1857 biography of Charlotte, Mrs Robinson attempted to sue her for defamation over claims that she seduced Charlotte's younger brother. However, Dark Quartet was written well into the twentieth century so Banks didn't have the same problem. She paints Branwell's temptress with a thoroughly black brush. I wonder if Mrs Robinson's descendants remember her as the villain who ruined his life, and if so, whether the passage of time has made it more of a cool detail to include in their lineage than a source of shame.
I took my time over this book. It wasn't one I could possibly rush through, and it wasn't easy to take all the harsh blows on board, but the effort was well worth it. However, the heavy emotion lingers. The world was robbed of whatever novel Emily was working on at the time of her death, and it might've been astounding, coming on the heels of Wuthering Heights. And I find the rift between Charlotte and Branwell, lasting until the day of his death, is heart-rending. Close to the end, Banks has him say, 'Charlotte, who was once closer to my heart than my own left lung, now withholds herself from me as if she fears to become a drunkard and wastrel herself just by looking at me.'
And I won't even get started on the early chapters which dealt with the deaths of Maria and Elizabeth. They were almost too much for me at the outset.
My fascination for the Brontes has been well and truly re-ignited by this book. I visited Haworth Parsonage once, aged 20, and I'd swear you really could feel their creative, brooding energy still caught between those walls.
A gripping and absorbing book. A must for all Bronte lovers. It's exciting and compelling and answers some of the mysteries of the Brontes. To be so gifted and to live in such times and to meet an early demise. Haworth Parsonage stood on the edge of the Yorkshire moors like a rock in a tempest. Highly recommended.
n her foreword Banks mentioned that when she was approached with the commission to write this book she was daunted – as who would not be given its subject is three of the best-known writers of the nineteenth century, plus their unfortunately less gifted brother? Much of course is known about the Brontë family (and even more written about them) but gaps remain. The fascination they hold for many is such that any exploration of their lives will attract readers eager to glean how such a hotbed of literary invention should arise within one family from a small village in the back of beyond. So does Dark Quartet illuminate much? A novel is likely to be more accessible than a drier academic piece but has a different purpose and as a novel Dark Quartet suffers from a lack of focus. Here, four main characters are too many, attention to each too diffused. A lot, especially in the book’s initial stages, is told rather than shown, making any differences between Emily and Charlotte (not so much Anne, as she was younger) haze over. It is only in the latter stages where Emily’s fierce - and thwarted - desire to remain incognito distinguish them. Branwell, praised as he was within the family and over-indulged by his father, did not have the self-possession to rise above that estimation - though surely he secretly must have known, or at least suspected, that his talents were minimal, something which no doubt contributed to his descent into dissolution. It is his learning by accident (for the others had taken pains to keep it from him) that his sisters had attained the validation of publication that precipitates his final crisis. Emily and Anne succumb to consumption, the former by apparently willing it, the latter with forbearance. The unhealthiness at the time of Haworth as a village, the one with the worst death rate in England, the Brontës’ home sited just above the packed cemetery whose decaying contents seeped into its surroundings during any rainfall, running under the church and into the village, goes unremarked here. Mention is made of the young Brontë siblings’ inventions of imaginary worlds, their notebooks filled with tiny writing, but only on the odd occasion does anyone take to the fabled moors - for inspiration or otherwise. Anne’s (actually not well evidenced) falling in love with her father’s curate Mr Weightman, who was soon to die of cholera, is stated rather than shown but Anne is depicted as being undemonstrative. Similarly Charlotte’s formative sojourn in Brussels at the Pensionnat Heger is treated somewhat cursorily. As an introduction to the family’s history Dark Quartet is an admirable endeavour but perhaps inevitably it fails to conjure up the inner nature of these remarkable people, fails to render them whole. Maybe the novel as a form needs its authors to have free reign, its characters not to be too slaved to historical individuals, to convince completely. Or is it that in this case the task is simply too great?
This is a fictionalized novel, but it's based on the real life story of the Brontes, using research of the - substantial - existing texts on the subject, and developing personal perspective from the letter archives. The book itself is not the most current scholarship on the Brontes. Still, I give it five stars because it contained the elements I love most about the Brontes, being transported into daily life on the edges of the gloomy Yorkshire moors, whose climate and grim circumstances resulted in a low life expectancy and disproportionately high child mortality rate. The novel absolutely captures the mood one seeks in a gothic-adjacent novel.
The Brontes did not have the worst of circumstances, with a loving family, access to nutrition and books, and some limited educational outlets, so their story is more sad than tragic, especially considering that three of the six children lived long enough to contribute meaningfully to the British literary canon. But loss, sadness, disappointment, and in Branwell's case also addiction and squandered potential, were nearly their legacy.
Still, out of five girls, the three who reached adulthood, raised in the early-mid nineteenth century took full responsibility for their own and their family's financial security. This is in fact why Jane Eyre has always been and is still my favorite novel: In the very early Victorian era, just shortly after the fantastical world of Jane Austen in which a woman's goal is to achieve refinement and land a warm, generous husband, in the world of the Brontes women strive for self-sufficiency - though maybe not depicted as such in Wuthering Heights - and experience love only as true passion, not financial desperation.
Going into this book knowing that it was a fictionalised biography definitely helped me appreciate it more. From the little I know of the Brontës’ lives, it seemed like an accurate retelling, which was emotive and well driven. The struggles and sufferings of characters ate at the reader, and you felt the continuous joys of suffering and misery just as they did. I felt it was the perfect balance between story-telling and factual biography, with a good focus on all of the siblings, their relationships feeling real and complex. The sisters’ relationship with Bramwell, in particular, clearly demonstrated the fraught feelings at each one of his failures and fits, and I felt the way the downfall of an idealised man was written, one who was supposed to be the most intelligent, the most successful, due to nothing more than his gender, was captivating. The shifting dynamic in the relationships that this caused, his life damaged irreparably while his sisters’ begin to achieve success, definitely helped carry the later chapters of the book.