Five Peas in a Pod: The Brontë Family and the Plausibility of Neurodivergence

The Brontë family is no less intriguing today than they were in the 1840s when it was discovered the “Bell Brothers” were actually three sisters, daughters of a clergyman in historic Yorkshire, England. The eldest sister, Charlotte Brontë, was the author of Jane Eyre, and Emily, the middle, the author of Wuthering Heights. Their fame has been plagued with the salacious gossip of outsiders ever since. They are at turns called quirky, eccentric, and painfully shy, or sometimes peculiar, controlling, moody, and domineering. Few authors will suggest that anything beyond an isolated personality trait or tragic backstory might be the cause. It does the family a disservice to acknowledge all their negative traits while, in the same breath, excusing them because of isolation, a stern father, and the loss of a mother. Being weird is not a character flaw, and behaviors that hinder daily living deserve recognition and assistance.

There is a common saying in medicine: “If you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras.” The funny thing about medicine, though, is that it must be zebras sometimes, and it is disingenuous to disregard the possibility when an entire family clearly struggles in similar ways. To that end, what if the entire Brontë family were neurodivergent? How would that change how their behaviors are interpreted?

“Neurodivergence” is a layman’s term. The DSM-5 equivalent is “general neurodevelopmental disorder (NDD),” an umbrella which covers disorders such as autism and ADHD, both of which have a strong genetic component and a high rate of comorbidities. This means that there are no specific diagnostic criteria for neurodivergence itself. Autism spectrum disorder (ASD), however, is so all-encompassing that using that criteria as a guideline ensures a holistic look at all parts of life when identifying neurodivergent symptoms.

Well-known are the “peculiarities” that set the Brontë family apart from their peers, many stemming from Patrick Brontë. An often-cited anecdote is his rigid adherence to a schedule, such as winding the clock at precisely the same time every night and keeping his extemporaneous sermons to exactly half an hour. He also worked and gave the children their lessons at exact times, perhaps not unusual given there were six children at one point and his wife Maria had died. However, this rigidness about time extended to all aspects of his life; he’d even leave functions early regardless of the occasion to be home for his evening routine.

While a father’s influence on his children is often significant, it should not obscure the Brontë sisters’ inherent natures and special interests. Charlotte critically analyzed artwork and spent hours on miniature drawings. Emily and Anne also worked toward perfecting their artistic skills. Emily also had an interest in the moors behind their house and reportedly knew every inch of their land. Anne spent much of her pocket money on sheet music and spent hours transcribing it; she also focused on religion and struggled for years ruminating over uncompromising Calvinist views of redemption in contrast to her own belief of salvation for all. The entire family were voracious readers and book collectors, an expensive habit for a family of modest means.

All three sisters would hyperfocus on their writing, to the point of sometimes neglecting their own health when working on novels. For years they were known to pace around the kitchen table every evening, talking out ideas and storylines. Pacing is an important but under-analyzed activity. After a long day, it might have made more sense to have discussions seated at the table, but the Brontë sisters seemed to need movement to think, mimicking Patrick as he had paced back and forth decades earlier as he wrote poetry. Pacing may have also given their energy an outlet as they often had disagreements and defended plot points, such as whether Jane Eyre should be pretty or not (Emily and Anne thought yes, Charlotte, no).

Charlotte and Branwell also shared a tendency toward impulsive behavior. Branwell jumped between very different career tracks (portrait painter, tutor, and railway clerk), at one point changing jobs every year for four years, but more often he was without a job. The one time he thrived, unlike his sisters, was in a bustling work environment with lots of social and cultural stimulation. Notably, this was in his first clerkship, where he did well enough to earn a promotion and transfer, and was the only one he did not lose, although his promoted position only lasted about a year before he was dismissed. He was consistently dismissed from positions due to making poor and impulsive choices that affected his performance or reputation. In company, he was both effusive and aggressive, occasionally fighting, and Claire Harman suggests he used alcohol to relieve the same anxiety that his sisters felt in social situations. Charlotte can also be seen constantly changing her mind about her career, making snap judgments, and falling out with people over perceived slights. All but Anne could be considered hot-tempered.

Although the Brontë family struggled socially, parents Patrick and Maria had many friends early in their marriage. After Maria’s death, Patrick seemed almost incapable of making new friends or hosting. Visitors often referred to him as being oddly formal at home, and Ellen Nussey noted his sometimes-inappropriate conversation topics when she was a teen, sharing stories of “grim humor” that made her “shiver and shrink.” In the home, he retired for several hours in the evening, even after working alone in his study during the day, then emerged to conduct evening prayers followed by conversation before retiring again at precisely nine, regardless of guests, while the sisters were often up until midnight. This demonstrates not only how Patrick struggled without Maria as a buffer, but also his rigid nature and inflexibility as well as his need for significant time to decompress alone. As the patriarch, no one would question his right to solitude. Outside the home, he also tended to visit parishioners as needed rather than engaging in regular social calls, and there were complaints of friction between him and his curates due to his personality. Despite many others in his position traveling to visit family or vacation, he did not, and this is something of note in his daughters, as well.

Emily in particular is called homesick and unable to function away from home based on three negative experiences: school for a few months at fifteen, a teaching job for six months at nineteen, and another stint as a student/teacher for about eight months at twenty-three. From the former she was sent home due to illness, and from the latter two she elected to leave on her own before the agreed departure date. However, this was not a unique experience: all the siblings moved away for jobs and school and returned at least once before anticipated. Charlotte was also sent home from a job and Anne from school with similar illnesses to what Emily had suffered at fifteen, which was primarily emotional distress that was affecting each physically.

While there is no doubt homesickness did play a role in their struggles, it’s important to consider all the factors: a new environment and people, a strict schedule outside their norm, different food, societal expectations, and a lack of privacy or sufficient time away from others to recharge. In most situations, though, the girls had moments of success. As students, all did well academically, and Charlotte in particular made lifelong friends. That Charlotte pushed to be allowed to study in Brussels and later considered moving to Paris, and that Anne was willing to take a job far from home which she kept for five years, also suggests being away from home was less important than being away from a support system and schedule of their own choosing.

The roles of teacher and governess also added responsibilities and allowed even less free time, exacerbating their exhaustion and burnout. This suggests an inability to manage the stress, students, and executive function required of a teacher rather than simple shyness contributed to their work difficulties. It is quite common for undiagnosed autistic people, particularly women, to struggle more as they get older, with symptoms getting harder to manage as episodes of burnout become more frequent and sometimes cause permanent disability and skill regression. When Charlotte returned home, even from vacations if they were highly stimulating, she often needed to take days to quietly recuperate, sometimes in a dark room with no interaction. After her return from Brussels, she was unable to write for months. This cycle may have been due in part to the mental energy it takes to mask in public to conform to expected behaviors, as well as environmental overstimulation. Ruptures can be seen in the form of angry outbursts by Charlotte and Emily and the melancholy and physical distress in Charlotte and Anne the longer they maintained their façades.

It is a mistake, however, to think that neurodivergent people struggle with all social interactions. The sisters and even Branwell were quite capable of making and maintaining friendships. Tensions arose most often in crowded, unfamiliar settings where the cognitive load of social navigation became overwhelming. Emily may well have frozen when asked unexpected questions or been expected to engage in idle chitchat, in addition to the likelihood rooms were crowded and warm with lots of activity that made it difficult to focus on the conversation. She would also, of course, be expected to sit still. After her sisters’ deaths, when Charlotte spent more time in London meeting people, reports of Charlotte’s own behavior are wildly different. She is at times charming and cold, withdrawn and animated, shy and confident. Additionally, many of the times she or her sisters are accused of poor social interaction are in larger evening gatherings meeting new people, presumably after full days of either teaching or excursions.

Charlotte herself wrote about how tiring it was to be around people and crowds, something Anne echoes in her own novels. However, in small groups or one-on-one, conversation was much less daunting. When the discussion shifted from the superficial to topics of interest, both Charlotte and Emily are described as enthusiastic conversationalists. Arguably, Charlotte was once so engaging that a male guest who had only visited the home once to return several days later to ask her to marry him. She refused and was flabbergasted by his interest. Emily came alive outside, unsurprising considering the comfort she took from nature, and possibly because walks happen side-by-side, not facing another with the expectation of eye contact.

Logically, neurodivergence does not exist in a vacuum, and situational context makes a significant difference in how people react in activities that may appear the same. For example, “social interaction” covers both tea with friends and an aristocratic dinner as the guest of honor in mixed company. The possibility the Brontë family individually had one or overlapping conditions explains many of their behaviors and interactions, particularly the contradictory reports. Looking at their lives and behaviors holistically rather than in isolation allows us to honor their strengths and avoid demonizing their weaknesses. People cannot be summed up in one-or two-character traits, and the Brontë family deserves a more comprehensive reading.