Based on their writing styles and Charlotte Brontė's descriptions of her two sisters, I tentatively consider Emily to have been an INFp (she is described as being removed from the world and impractical). The description of Anne is somewhat similar, though less so.
Charlotte seemed like a XXXj type in comparison, although I shouldn't really use such notation. She seemed quite level-headed and stern. I see that the character of Jane Eyre has been typed as INFj on this forum, and that was supposed to be a representation of Charlotte, but I don't have any strong opinion on the matter!
I'm quite surprised to find that I apparently haven't started a thread on them before...
My impressions of Charlotte is that she had quite a stern personality, perhaps quite moralistic in nature and maybe somewhat practical. I would just type her IxxJ
Anne had a softer personality of the three sisters and was perhaps a SEI or an IEI.
Now with Emily...she's by far the most interesting and probably most difficult to type. She apparently didn't go out of her way to speak to people, despite being perfectly affable...she is supposed to have preferred the company of animals to other individuals and enjoyed being by herself amongst nature:
Originally Posted by Charlotte Bronte
My sister's disposition was not naturally gregarious; circumstances favoured and fostered her tendency to seclusion; except to go to church or take a walk on the hills, she rarely crossed the threshold of home. Though her feeling for the people round was benevolent, intercourse with them she never sought; nor, with very few exceptions, ever experienced. And yet she know them: knew their ways, their language, their family histories; she could hear of them with interest, and talk of them with detail, minute, graphic, and accurate; but WITH them, she rarely exchanged a word.
Originally Posted by Charlotte Bronte
Once she was bitten by a dog that she saw running by in great distress, and to which she offered water. The dog was mad. She said no word to any one, but herself burned the lacerated flesh to the bone with the red hot poker, and no one knew of it until the red scar was accidentally discovered some weeks after, and sympathetic questioning brought out this story.
In addition, the head of school she attended described her as follows:
Originally Posted by Constantin Héger
She should have been a man a great navigator. Her powerful reason would have deduced new spheres of discovery from the knowledge of the old; and her strong imperious will would never have been daunted by opposition or difficulty, never have given way but with life. She had a head for logic, and a capability of argument unusual in a man and rarer indeed in a woman... impairing this gift was her stubborn tenacity of will which rendered her obtuse to all reasoning where her own wishes, or her own sense of right, was concerned.
I completely intrigued about what her type could be.
Almost all descriptions of Charlotte mention her eyes:
"Many who met Charlotte Brontė were amazed to find that the fierce and vehement Currer Bell was, in fact, a rather plain, terribly shy, and quite proper woman, completely unremarkable in appearance except for eyes of "extraordinary brilliancy and penetration."
One young writer who dined at the Parsonage was mesmerized by them: "they looked you through and through -- and you felt they were forming an opinion of you . . . by a subtle penetration into the very marrow of your mind, and the innermost core of your soul!"
At the age of 14 Emily was described as:
"A strange figure tall, slim, angular, with all her inches not yet grown ...features somewhat strong and stern, the mouth prominent and resolute.....pleasant, sometimes jovial, like a boy...so genial and kind, a little masculine... but of strangers she was exceedingly timid"
And as an adult:
"Emily was the tallest. She'd bigger bones and was stronger looking and more masculine, but very nice in her ways."
Description of Anne by Charlotte's friend, Ellen Nussey.
"[Emily] and gentle Anne were to be seen twined together as united statues of power and humility. They were to be seen with their arms lacing each other in their younger days whenever their occupations permitted their union."
"Emily and Anne were like twins inseparable companions, and in the very closest sympathy, which never had any interruption... but Anne was quite different in appearance from the others."
Description of Anne by the publisher George Smith.
A gentle, quiet, rather subdued person, by no means pretty, yet of a pleasing appearance..... Her manner was curiously expressive of a wish for protection and encouragement, a kind of constant appeal which invited sympathy."
(For general interest...) This has been supposed to be a photograph of the sisters...I think the case is very strong for it! (it looks like "Emily" and "Anne" even have their arms laced)
I have the impression of IxFj for Charlotte. I've been reading The Selected Letters of Charlotte Brontė by Margaret Smith and The Life of Charlotte Brontė by Elizabeth Gaskell. the latter, I think, sanitizes Charlotte. I regard Charlotte's letters as a better source on her intimate life.
“[...] Though we learn comparatively little of Charlotte’s intellectual life from her letters to Ellen, they provide much insight into other facets of her personality and experience. In many intimate, spontaneous letters, she shares with Ellen the intense moods of adolescence: at one extreme her despair over her own spiritual crises, at the other her amusement, impatience, or excitement, often expressed with a racy disregard for ladylike reserve, or her fierce indignation at unworthy or immoral behaviour.”
“Ellen (I have some qualities that make me very miserable, some feelings that you can have no participation in—that very few people in the world can at all understand—I don’t pride myself on these peculiarities, I strive to conceal and suppress them as much as I can. but they burst out sometimes and then those who see the explosion despise me and I hate myself for days afterwards).” To Ellen Nussey, October 1836
“Some of my greatest difficulties lie in things that would appear to you comparatively trivial. I find it so hard to repel the rude familiarity of the children—I find it so difficult to ask either servants or mistress for anything I want, however much I want it. It is less pain to me to endure the greatest inconvenience than to go into the kitchen to request its removal. I am a fool—Heaven knows I cannot help it.” To Ellen Nussey, 3 March 1841
“[...] What dismays & haunts me sometimes is a conviction that I have no natural knack for my vocation—if teaching only—were requisite it would be smooth & easy—but it is the living in other people’s houses—the estrangement from one’s real character—the adoption of a cold frigid—apathetic exterior that is painful.” To Ellen Nussey, 7 August 1841
“I have one aching feeling at my heart (I must allude to it though I had resolved not to)—it is about Anne—she has somuch to endure—far far more than I have—when my thoughts turn to her—they always see her as a patient, persecuted stranger—amongst people more grossly insolent, proud & tyrannical than your imagination unassisted can readily depict—I know what concealed susceptibility is in her nature—when her feelings are wounded I wish I could be with her to administer a little balm—She is more lonely—less gifted with the power of making friends even than I am—drop the subject.” To Ellen Nussey, 7 August 1841
“Monsieur, the poor do not need a great deal to live on—they ask only the crumbs of bread which fall from the rich men’s table—but if they are refused these crumbs—they die of hunger—No more do I need a great deal of affection from those I love—I would not know what to do with a whole and complete friendship—I am not accustomed to it—but you showed a little interest in me in days gone by when I was your pupil in Brussels—and I cling to the preservation of this little interest—I cling to it as I would cling on to life.” To Constantin Héger, 8 January 1845
“As for me I am very well and wag on as usual, I perceive however that I grow exceedingly misanthropic and sour—you will say this is no news, and that you never knew me possessed of the contrary qualities, philanthropy & sugariness—daß ist wahr (which being translated means that is true) but the fact is the people here are no go whatsoever—amongst 120 persons, which compose the daily population of this house I can discern only 1 or 2 who deserve anything like regard—This is not owing to foolish fastidiousness on my part—but to the absence of decent qualities on theirs—they have not intellect or politeness or good-nature or good-feeling—they are nothing—I don’t hate them—hatred would be too warm a feeling—They have no sensations themselves and they excite none—but one wearies from day to day of caring nothing, fearing nothing, liking nothing hating nothing—being nothing, doing nothing—yes, I teach & sometimes get red-in-the face with impatience at their stupidity—but don’t think I ever scold or fly into a passion—if I spoke warmly, as warmly as I sometimes used to do at Roe-Head they would think me mad—nobody ever gets into a passion here—such a thing is not known—the phlegm that thickens their blood is too gluey to boil—they are very false in their relations with each other—but they rarely quarrel & friendship is a folly they are unacquainted with...” To Branwell Brontė, 1 May 1843
“I must remember perfection is not the lot of humanity and as long as we can regard those we love and to whom we are closely allied, with profound and never-shaken esteem, it is a small thing that they should vex us occasionally by, what appear to us, unreasonable and headstrong notions.” To Margaret Wooler, 30 January 1846
“I only wish I had the power to infuse into the souls of the persecuted a little of the quiet strength of pride—of the supporting consciousness of superiority, of the fortifying resolve of firmness to bear the present and wait the end.” To Ellen Nussey, 26 August 1846
“To value praise or stand in awe of blame we must respect the source whence the praise and blame proceed—and I do not respect an inconsistent critic. He says ‘‘if ‘Jane Eyre’ be the production of a woman—she must be a woman unsexed.’’ In that case the book is an unredeemed error and should be unreservedly condemned. ‘‘Jane Eyre’’ is a woman’s autobiography—by a woman it is professedly written—if it is written as no woman would write—condemn it—with spirit and decision—say it is bad—but do not first eulogize and then detract. I am reminded of the ‘‘Economist’’. The literary critic of that paper praised the book if written by a man—and pronounced it ‘‘odious’’ if the work of a woman. To such critics I would say—‘‘to you I am neither Man nor Woman—I come before you as an Author only—it is the sole standard by which you have a right to judge me—the sole ground on which I accept your judgment.’’ To W. S. Williams, 16 August 1849
(quotes lifted from The Selected Letters of Charlotte Brontė)
-lead and Ij temperament seems obvious. if I had to guess at a type, I'd say EII!
I have no firm opinion about Emily or Anne, but on a whim, I'd type Emily ILI and Anne SEI.
Last edited by hag; 12-16-2016 at 03:55 PM.
Reason: source correction
"hag is the elizabeth bathory of t16t" Luminous Lynx