Emily's fans were once legion, and as reverential as mystics or poets. Indeed many were poets, like Robert Bridges, who sang that she had 'all passion's splendour'. Writers of all sorts revered her, from the anonymous Late Victorian critic who enthused over the structure of Wuthering Heights to the novelist L.P. Hartley, who doted on her whole oeuvre and personality. The magisterial Dr Leavis observed, before directing our attention to George Eliot, that there is 'only one Brontë' - meaning Emily - and even Mrs Leavis was awed by Wuthering Heights. The only dissentient voice I can think of is Ivy Compton-Burnett's, whose crisp verdict was that the book had received all, indeed more than all, the praise that was its due, and that it was high time to stop worshipping its author.

LRB 20 December 1990 | PDF Download