Function Order: Fi-Ne-Si-Te
Emily spends much of her time writing intense poetry, which she doesn’t want to share with other people, because in her mind, that cheapens the emotions of it. She gets into a furious argument with Charlotte when Charlotte invades her privacy and reads her poems without permission. She doesn’t at first want to contribute to her siblings’ book of poetry, since she sees that as trite. Whenever she’s truly upset, she forbids others from speaking to her while she processes her emotions. Even though she can be furious at Branwell much of the time, Emily is also the first one to offer him help on his worst days. Her poems are full of rich, raw metaphors and broad connections. She retains a sense of dreaminess and a rich connection to nature and her own imagination. She contributed much to their stories as children, and like Anne, continues to write about their invisible world as an adult. She’s most excited when sharing with Anne an “idea” she heard about, a real event which she bases Wuthering Heights on, right down to the major characters. She draws much literary inspiration from her own life, using Branwell to influence aspects of Heathcliffe’s nature. Emily takes daily walks with the dogs, does most of the housekeeping and cooking for the family – and seems to enjoy it. She’s fairly content to remain at home. Emily is sharp-tongued and inclined to put people in their place whenever she’s upset, sometimes to the extent of “laying down ground rules” (“You don’t speak to me, you don’t address me, you don’t speak of me!”); she rarely does anything she doesn’t want to do, even when it causes discord among her sisters. Emily is extremely hard-working, and finishes what she starts.
Enneagram: 4w5 sx/sp
Emily writes extremely dark things and loves to dwell on them (Wuthering Heights is considered risqué for the period, because it revolves around morbid themes and/or a man digging up the dead woman he loves to “embrace” her … or maybe do more than that). She admits that she loves dark, tragic, sinister things and feels a kind of thrill at the idea of evil. She refuses to share her poetry easily, is easily offended by her sister poking around in her room (and angrily confronts them all, demanding to know who did it), and also refuses to reveal her pen name when the others want to do so, because “your writing has naught to do with me!” She won’t go to London with them and clear up the mess of the publisher putting the wrong name on the manuscript. In this way, Emily can be self-absorbed and temperamental, only concerned with her own feelings and inconsiderate of her siblings, prioritizing her own self above their needs (they want her support, she refuses and won’t give it). She forms a lot of harsh judgments about people, looking down on them for their subpar material, but is also secretive, reclusive, and withdrawn.