As an English Lit major, I was compelled to see the heaths and moors and literary sites when we were last in England. The Bronte home is tucked away in the middle of nowhere, and BOY! were they a strange lot. Never left home, the oddest of odd family relationships. I had loved their books, but I got a whole new and very strange take on the bunch of them.
That sort of complete isolation will play tricks with your head. West Yorkshire is STILL the literal middle of nowhere.