Healing Poetry of Sorrow, Crying, Brontë and The Smiths

(This article was first published on Linkedin on 7 October 2018)

Photo Credit: Chris Gilbert

I wish to dedicate this article to my dear friend, poet and teacher, Gary Jackson from Yorkshire who sadly left us too young. He is so sorely missed.

This time of year in England – as the days shorten, leaves fall, winds blow stronger that in my native France – reminds me of discovering for the first time the powerful works by the Brontë sisters from Yorkshire: ‘Wuthering Heights’ and ‘Jane Eyre’.

It is the Bicentenary of the birth of Emily Brontë. 

I discovered these as a young teenage girl and read them in one swoop. They changed my life since I studied in Yorkshire and Manchester from the age of 18 and never returned to live in France.

Some of you might be entranced by the beauty of lavender fields in Provence. For me it was the poetic sorrow of the Moors, The Bronte and the music of The Smiths, especially the tracks “That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore” and ” Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me”.

Morrissey’s such gut wrenching articulation and authentic expressions of loneliness, yearning and sorrow backed by Johnny Marr’s unequalled lyrical rock guitar pieces ever played are some of the most beautiful examples of authentic masculine power, poetry and soul. Power is very different to Force and both are often confused.

When asked what his favourite Smiths piece was, Johnny Marr, answered that it is ‘Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me’ adding that “That transcended esoteric spiritual quality of love means so much to me and was captured not just by me but by the whole band.”

And so every year around this time, coinciding with the change of seasons and clocks going back end of October, as well as a more introspective time of inward looking, a nurturing ritual of mine is to re-read either Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre and walk listening to The Smiths.

There’s another reason why I decided to dedicate this short article to the Brontë’s, Shakepseare’s and The Smiths’ awe-inspiring poetic musical power.

In this article, I won’t delve into any of the research on crying and tears. There are factors, such as gender and culture, which do play a massive role in individuals’ propensity to cry. There are also people who have difficulty producing tears (known as Sjogren’s syndrome) and those who are unable to cry, and this is a very tender topic. If anyone is interested, Vingerhoets (2013) book “Why Only Humans Weep: Unravelling the Mysteries of Tears” explores this subject.

What I wish to share in this article, is the privilege to witness, in my clinical work, women and especially men opening up and allowing themselves to cry, many to their own accounts, for the first time in a very long time.

As I and colleagues witness the stigma around mental health issues slowly dissolving, and as we are perhaps supporting more men to come forward and share more authentically, I felt that these few extracts from Brontë, Shakespeare and The Smiths could remind us of times when it is ok to be where we are, to express or not our vulnerability in the simple act of being witnessed, with tears or not.

Whilst not all crying is therapeutic, we do need to trust that we know when it feels safe to allow a loved one or a friend to witness us in this most intimate of vulnerable moment.

In Shakespeare’s Macbeth (Act 4, scene 3), upon hearing that Macbeth has killed all of Macduff’s family and young children, he is encourage to “ dispute it like a man”. Macduff replies thus:

As the perennial and universal beauty of those English verses by The Smiths, The Brontë sisters and Shakespeare attest, crying is the most natural physiological response to life, one which can be accompanied by a powerful emotional release especially when we are seen and witnessed in our pain by a loved and trusted other, leading even to transcendence of past hurts and transformation. 

As the days shorten, let’s remind ourselves that it is ok to experience whatever we are experiencing, to reach out and that there is strength, courage and power in our very human vulnerability and soft, tender hearts.

References

Brontë, A. Letter To Cowper. Published in the 1846 collection Poems By Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell under Anne’s nom de plume ‘Acton Bell’

Brontë, C. Jane Eyre. Penguin; Reprint edition (4 Sept. 2006)

Brontë, E. Wuthering Heights. Wordsworth Editions; Reprint edition (5 May 1992)

Shakespeare, W. Macbeth. Penguin Classics; UK ed. edition (27 Aug. 2015)

The Smiths, That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore. 1985. Rough Trade Records. Warner Bros.

Vingerhoets, A. (2013). Why Only Humans Weep: Unravelling the Mysteries of Tears. OUP Oxford.