This review is just in reference to Emily's poem, "Plead for Me".

Emily Bronte is like a literary thorn that pricks my side. While "Wuthering Heights" withered on the page for me, her language and writing style truly sparkled. And today, "Plead for Me" stands as one of the jewels from her arsenal of poetry. It explores the complex and spiralling nature that occurs when the decisions we make for the better start to crumble and make us question ourselves.

Known for her unrivalled command of language, her work, such as "Wuthering Heights", has ignited passionate debate among readers. Some find her storytelling brilliance undeniable, while others fail to resonate with the tales. However, Brontë's poetic legacy offers a profound glimpse into her inner world, as vividly illustrated in "Plead for Me".

The poem delves into themes of faith, decision-making, and the disquieting solitude that emerges when life strays from the paths we have painstakingly laid out. Brontë employs a pleading tone to question the guidance of reason, faith, and her own choices. With haunting lines like "When Reason, with a scornful brow, is mocking at my overthrow", she conveys a sense of betrayal by logic itself, turning instead to a higher power for clarity. Yet, the essence of the poem lies in its universal resonance - the self-doubt that creeps in when our efforts seem futile, and the hope that persists in the act of questioning.

Brontë's personal struggles infuse the poem with a touching poignancy. Born into a life marred by early loss, unremitting toil, and poor health, she tragically passed away at the age of 30, believing she had failed as a writer. Her refusal of medical help until the end is mirrored in the poem's themes of unyielding faith. The layered complexity of "Plead for Me" reflects her inner turmoil - her struggle with decisions and the enduring hope for divine or personal redemption.

This piece compels readers to contemplate the delicate balance between faith in oneself and reliance on higher forces. Brontë reminds us that life's setbacks, although painful, do not nullify our intrinsic worth. Instead, they illuminate the remarkable human capacity to persevere.

Brontë's voice in "Plead for Me" is both fragile and commanding, a testament to the artistic brilliance of a woman who continues to inspire intense debate. Whether you find solace in her words or remain unconvinced by her narratives, the raw emotional honesty of her poetry is simply undeniable.

Full episode on Youtube. Link in bio :)

This wasn't what I had anticipated, and it was a pleasant surprise. I had expected Emily's poetry to mainly consist of beautiful poetic descriptions of nature and the moors. However, those elements are not present in this collection. Instead, grief takes center stage.

Death seems to seep into almost every poem, and her emphasis on harsh, winter landscapes creates a suitable and somber atmosphere.

Ordinarily, I never bother to pay attention to the edition I add here. But after reading the Introduction, it appears that there is a significant amount of variation from one book to another. It was actually quite fascinating to learn about the difficulties of interpreting hundred-year-old handwritten manuscripts, such as how much to edit them and even whether to edit them at all. This whole discussion also isn't making me more fond of Charlotte Bronte (I'm all for justice for Anne), but that's an entirely different matter.

Overall, this collection of Emily's poetry offers a unique perspective on grief and showcases her talent in a different light than I had initially expected. It makes me eager to explore more of her works and see what other surprises she has in store.

Beautiful, stunning, stirring. These words alone cannot fully capture the essence of the scene before us.

As we gaze upon this magnificent landscape, our hearts are filled with a sense of wonder and awe. The colors are so vivid, as if they have been painted by the hand of a master artist. The mountains rise majestically in the distance, their peaks capped with snow, while the valleys below are filled with lush greenery.

The sun shines down upon us, warming our faces and filling us with a sense of peace and tranquility. We can hear the gentle sound of the wind rustling through the leaves, and the chirping of the birds in the trees.

It is a scene that is truly beautiful, stunning, and stirring. One that will stay with us forever, etching itself into our memories and hearts.

Death. It is well. Death is an inevitable part of life. It is a concept that has intrigued and scared humans throughout history. Some view it as the end, a final cessation of all things. Others believe in an afterlife, a continuation of the soul's journey. But regardless of one's beliefs, death has a profound impact on our lives. It makes us cherish the present moment, appreciate the people we love, and strive to make a difference in the world. It reminds us of the fragility and preciousness of life. So, while death may seem like a somber topic, it can also serve as a powerful reminder to live our lives to the fullest and make the most of every precious moment.

Ok, so of course this was good in terms of the poems. The language and the expressions used were truly remarkable. However, I can't help but think that it would have been even better not to read the 'complete' poems all at once. Instead, reading them in separate volumes would have provided a more in-depth and immersive experience. I got this collection from the library, and if not for that, it would have taken me a really long time to read through all of it. As it is, after reading so many poems in one go, I felt like I was bombarded with hundreds of them about death, the fictional city of Gondal (which we have no real context for, and these read as random snippets more than anything), or the moors.

Like I said, the writing is great. There are some truly great quotes that can be found within these pages. But to truly appreciate and understand the collection, it would be better to take your time and read each poem carefully, one volume at a time. This way, you can fully absorb the essence and meaning of each piece, rather than feeling overwhelmed by the sheer volume of poetry.

**Title: Treasures**

Treasures come in many forms. They can be precious jewels, ancient artifacts, or even intangible things like memories and love.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️✨
4.5

Some people spend their entire lives searching for treasures, traveling to far-off places and braving great risks. Others discover treasures right in their own backyards, in the form of a beautiful sunset or a kind gesture from a stranger.

No matter where they are found, treasures have the power to bring joy, excitement, and a sense of wonder. They can make us feel rich beyond measure, even if we don't have a lot of money.

In a world that can sometimes seem cold and harsh, treasures are like little rays of sunshine that warm our hearts and give us hope. So, keep your eyes open and your heart receptive, and you just might discover a treasure of your own.

Treasures

I am not very good with poetry. In fact, I really struggle with it.

However, this was a completely different experience! The strength and the beauty of each of Emily Brontë’s poems are just beyond this world, quite literally.

She seems neither with the living nor with the dead. She is her own little force in the moors of Yorkshire, and she takes you into this whirlwind of feelings.

I find myself at a loss for words, not making much sense anymore. That’s how you know it’s good poetry - when you feel a thousand things and cannot really express any of them properly.

Her poems have a unique charm that draws you in and makes you feel emotions you never thought possible.

It’s as if she has the power to transport you to another place and time, where you can experience the beauty and the pain of her world.

I am truly amazed by the talent of Emily Brontë and her ability to create such powerful and moving poetry.

I will definitely be reading more of her works in the future.

This book had a profound impact on me. It broke me, yet at the same time, it healed me. It filled me with a strange kind of connection and sorrow, something that was both completely known and entirely new to me.

What truly amazes me and touches my heart until tears well up, leaving me speechless, is the magic and power of books. They have the ability to dig deep and reach the very bottom of our souls with a childlike, innocent ease. When it comes to describing the poetry of Emily Brontë, I think any words I might use would be inadequate, limited, and perhaps even nonsensical. The pain, the beauty, the intense feelings of solitude and misfortune that are present in each of her words are simply astonishing and moving. I truly believe that this book deserves more recognition. In my opinion, it is a must-read for everyone.

Never before have I underlined passages and felt such a deep connection as I did with her work. And never before have I felt this overwhelming need to cry and yet read more simultaneously. If I had to describe this experience in just one word, it would be "devastating." In a sense, it is like a storm that sweeps through and leaves you changed.

My whole intention with reading Emily Brontë's poems was to attempt to fill a void that I felt was unmet in her seminal work Wuthering Heights.

I loved that novel, and it ignited an interest in this somewhat overlooked poetess.

The void was a prose style which verged just onto prose poetry in its finest moments, and which evoked a brilliantly dark, brooding Yorkshire landscape through what I can only call sparse allusion, but didn't quite make the full mark.

Well, what I got was certainly that atmosphere, but in the reliance on lyrical drive, it became very bland.

Words like'sorrow, bleak, heart, dreary, weep, frown, dark, spirit,' and'moor' are repeated to the point of feeling like senseless delirium.

The Brontës are interesting for their literary world, Gondal, perhaps among the earliest examples of Fantasy, and certainly resonant of Tolkien's world amid these surviving poems.

Alas, removed from their narrative source here, Emily is simply not a competent enough poet to push through these oblique narratives and charge them with emotion.

Her choice of form is generally the quatrain in rhyming couplets (ABAB, CDCD), often with additional fifth lines added at random, and occasionally will use slant rhyme.

Her metre is clumsy (perhaps by choice), generally trailing around iambic pentameter but, more often than not, going under 10 syllables than over.

This lax hand takes away the emphasis of metre.

When a poet does not stay mostly within lock-step rhythm, the subversions of it no longer work.

I quickly stopped paying remote attention to the metric qualities of the poems, and read them more like free verse.

Perhaps she is an early example of extremely loose verse (like Blake) who is relatively neglected in the study of modernist poetry technique prior to Gerard Manley Hopkins.

I give this book a 2/5 because of its success at generating a thick atmosphere, and the very real moments of astounding lyricism and narrative power that Brontë can very assuredly produce.

But the chaff has outweighed the wheat here.

I got what I wanted in the first few dozen chronological entries honestly - a supplement to what was missing in Wuthering Heights - where some of her best work lies in 1836, the earliest traceable manuscripts.

Her youthful vigour was perhaps still strong, before being unfortunately muted, instead of empowered, by loss and 19th century adult life.

I foresee a complicated relationship with this author through my life, and while this experience has not been wholly positive, she has a very individual presence in such a long stream, one most certainly suited to short readings when the weather, or my mind, is right.

Wuthering Heights will continue to be her masterpiece, and the Complete Poems will sit fittingly beside it: a slim, valuable, rock hewn from the Yorkshire landscape.

I have a deep and profound longing.

I want to be buried with these poems. These poems are not just words on paper, but they are the essence of my soul, the expression of my deepest emotions and thoughts.

They have accompanied me through countless days and nights, comforting me in times of sorrow and inspiring me in times of joy.

When I am laid to rest, I hope these poems will be by my side, as if they are my eternal companions.

They will tell the story of my life, the loves and losses, the hopes and dreams.

Maybe one day, someone will discover these poems and understand the person I was, the passion that burned within me.

And that will be my legacy, a collection of words that will live on long after I am gone.

I want to be buried with these poems, for they are a part of me, and I cannot imagine leaving this world without them.

Although I feel quite bad about it, I must admit that I did not like this book much.

I love poetry in general and had heard good things about Bronte. However, except for a few hidden gems, I did not think this collection was very good.

I generally think that the poems are very repetitive. The same themes appear over and over again and are, moreover, dealt with in a relatively superficial way. That is to say, a great deal of Bronte's writing is merely descriptive.

Additionally, while Bronte mostly sticks to the usual 'rules' of poetry, there are a few instances where rhyme and especially meter seem off. I don't mind rhyme all that much, but meter is very important as I feel that it really disturbs the reader when a verse does not fit with the rest of the poem.

Either way, this book was not an entirely negative experience. I'm glad I got to educate myself and read such a classic. Moreover, as I said, there are a few poems I liked. My favourites include Gleneden's Dream, Written on Returning to the P. of I. on the 10th of January 1827, and 108.

Either way, I am well aware that poetry is perhaps the most controversial form of writing in the sense that liking or not liking a specific piece is very subjective. While you can always judge prose from a more or less objective point of view, poetry either appeals to you or it doesn't. It makes you feel something or it doesn't. For me, these poems were bleak and did not evoke any emotion. Therefore, for me personally, this is a two-star-read.

Maybe others will have a different opinion and find more beauty and depth in Bronte's poetry. But for now, this is how I feel about this particular collection. I will continue to explore other works of poetry in the hope of finding those that truly speak to my heart and soul.

The best poems of the collection:

1

"No Coward Soul Is Mine" by Emily Brontë

No coward soul is mine.

No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere.

I see Heaven's glories shine,

And Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear.

O God within my breast,

Almighty ever-present Deity,

Life, that in me hast rest,

As I, Undying Life, have power in Thee.

Vain are the thousand creeds

That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,

Worthless as withered weeds

Or idlest froth amid the boundless main.

To waken doubt in one

Holding so fast by thy infinity,

So surely anchored on

The steadfast rock of Immortality.

With wide-embracing love

Thy spirit animates eternal years,

Pervades and broods above,

Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears.

Though earth and moon were gone,

And suns and universes ceased to be,

And Thou wert left alone,

Every Existence would exist in thee.

There is not room for Death,

Nor atom that his might could render void,

Since thou art Being and Breath,

And what thou art may never be destroyed.

2

"The night is darkening round me" by Emily Brontë

The night is darkening round me,

The wild winds coldly blow;

But a tyrant spell has bound me,

And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending

Their bare boughs weighed with snow;

The storm is fast descending,

And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,

Wastes beyond wastes below;

But nothing drear can move me;

I will not, cannot go.