January 2012
1 post
Charlotte Brontë in Leeds Point
wwnorton:
From her window marshland stretched for miles. If not for egrets and gulls, it reminded her of the moors behind the parsonage, how the fog often hovered and descended as if sheltering some sweet compulsion the age was not ready to see. On clear days the jagged skyline of Atlantic City was visible—Atlantic City, where all compulsions had a home.
“Everything’s too easy now,” she...