The question that drives it is how the prickly recluse of historical record, holed up with her siblings in a parsonage (apart from a brief, disastrous stint as a schoolteacher), could have been able to summon such passion not only in her single novel but in her poetry.

Anyone who can ask this question should be permanently disqualified from talking about art, or indeed about people. The same goes for anyone who would take it seriously as a question. *grumbles*