Wuthering Heights
Wuthering Heights is a wild, passionate story of the intense and almost demonic love between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, a foundling adopted by Catherine's father. After Mr Earnshaw's death, Heathcliff is bullied and humiliated by Catherine's brother Hindley and wrongly believing that his love for Catherine is not reciprocated, leaves Wuthering Heights, only to return years later as a wealthy and polished man. He proceeds to exact a terrible revenge for his former miseries. The action of the story is chaotic and unremittingly violent, but the accomplished handling of a complex structure, the evocative descriptions of the lonely moorland setting and the poetic grandeur of vision combine to make this unique novel a masterpiece of English literature.

Wuthering Heights Details

TitleWuthering Heights
Author
FormatPaperback
LanguageEnglish
ReleaseDec 6th, 2002
PublisherW. W. Norton & Company
ISBN0393978893
ISBN-139780393978896
Number of pages464 pages
Rating
GenreFiction, Classics, Romance, Literature, Gothic

Wuthering Heights Review

  • Chelsea
    June 29, 2007
    I've tried it three times. I know people are obsessed with it. I hate everyone in the book - and I just can't care about a book where I actually hate the characters.And, sure, I get the interpretation that as terrible as Heathcliff and Cathy are, it's their love that redeems them, and isn't that romantic.No.
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  • K.
    December 18, 2010
    I understand why many people hate this book. Catherine and Heathcliff are monstrous. Monstrous. You won't like them because they are unlikable. They are irrational, self-absorbed, malicious and pretty much any negative quality you can think a person is capable of possessing without imploding. They seek and destroy and act with no thought to consequence. And I find it fascinating that Emily Bronte chose them to be her central protagonists.When this was first published it was met with animosity be I understand why many people hate this book. Catherine and Heathcliff are monstrous. Monstrous. You won't like them because they are unlikable. They are irrational, self-absorbed, malicious and pretty much any negative quality you can think a person is capable of possessing without imploding. They seek and destroy and act with no thought to consequence. And I find it fascinating that Emily Bronte chose them to be her central protagonists.When this was first published it was met with animosity because of how utterly repugnant these two characters were. The way they go about their business caring nothing for others but themselves was enough for me to shake my head in complete and total judgment, as if Catherine and Heathcliff could see me and are then effectively shamed by their actions. Wuthering Heights is epic, in my humble opinion, because I believe that the scope of this story is monumental. Let me explain: it is a simple tale between two families that are bound in such a way that their fates are irrevocably linked. What affects one, affects the other. Its about Catherine and Heathcliff who fall in love and how their relationship ruins the lives of those around them. The book, all 400 pages of it, occur almost entirely at Wuthering Heights, the estate of the Earnshaws, and at Thrushcross Grange, the estate of the Lintons with only a couple of miles of land in between.And yet it is not a small story.The emotional magnitude of this book is great and far reaching. The provoking and unapologetic quality of Bronte's writing is seductive. The process of reading this story can feel so masochistic sometimes that its almost if she's daring us to stop reading and throw the book away. Like its a game of personal endurance to see how much we can take, how far we can go. She pushes at us, challenging us and all the while knowing that we have to keep reading because redemption awaits. It is nothing like its contemporaries. The moors, the darkness of the moors, that curses the household of Wuthering Heights and its inhabitants is ever present. Nature is personified. It is its own character; its there, lingering and simmering ever so quietly, saturating every scene with its silent threats of doom...okay, I have to stop talking like this...what am I anymore?There is poison in this book, but let me ease your mind by saying that it is balanced with goodness also. This isn't a perfect novel. There were still moments I found myself in perplexion (recently invented word). And while everything about Catherine and Heathcliff may be corrupt, there is hope in Wuthering Heights. If you can journey through the menacing forest of Emily Bronte's imagination, do it because the view is something to behold.Ha ha ha, this review...what even is this?
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  • Larissa
    October 21, 2007
    Certain novels come to you with pre-packaged expectations. They just seem to be part of literature's collective unconscious, even if they are completely outside of your own cultural referents. I, for instance, who have no particular knowledge of--or great love for--romantic, Anglo-Gothic fiction, came to Wuthering Heights with the assumption that I was picking up a melancholy ghost story of thwarted, passionate love and eternal obsession. Obsession turned out to be only accurate part of this pre Certain novels come to you with pre-packaged expectations. They just seem to be part of literature's collective unconscious, even if they are completely outside of your own cultural referents. I, for instance, who have no particular knowledge of--or great love for--romantic, Anglo-Gothic fiction, came to Wuthering Heights with the assumption that I was picking up a melancholy ghost story of thwarted, passionate love and eternal obsession. Obsession turned out to be only accurate part of this presumption. Having an image of Heathcliff and Cathy embracing Gone with the Wind -style on a windy moor ironed in my mind, I was almost completely unprepared for the hermetic, moribund, bleak, vengeful, perverse, and yes--obsessive--novel that this really is. Don Quixote is not about windmills and Wuthering Heights is not really a love story. Heathcliff and Cathy's love affair (if it can be called that) is a narcissistic ("I am Heathcliff!" Cathy exclaims at one point), possessive, and imminently cruel relationship predicated on self-denial and an obsessiveness that relies not on passion, but rather borders on hatred. They are selfish, violent, and contriving people who have borne their fair share of abuses (mostly Heathcliff in this respect) and in turn, feel no compunction about raining similar abuses on those who they find beneath them.Given this dynamic, it seems perhaps inevitable that these two characters would make not only themselves miserable, but everyone around them miserable--even after death. This is particularly easy to accomplish mainly because there are--with the exception of Mr. Lockwood, the tenant who rents a home from Heathcliff--no outside characters. Everyone in the novel (including the servants) is isolated, trapped between the same two homes, with the same two families, and have truly no chance of escaping any of the events and repercussions that occur.(One character makes a temporary escape, only to suffer all the more for it later.) More important, however, is the fact that Heathcliff and Cathy don't even need be present (although they usually are in some fashion) for their influences to be felt by the other characters. The sins of the father, are literally, inherited and distributed among the next generation. The children of Wuthering Heights are not only physical doubles of their parents (At least 3 characters look like Cathy, and one resembles Heathcliff), but they are also spiritual stand-ins. They must suffer for past transgressions, and they must find a way to make amends for them. All, I might add, without the particular benefit of ever having the full story, the context that might be necessary to actually change their circumstances. Misery, it seems, is inevitable. There is, of course, much more to be said about this novel. One could spend quite some time dissecting all the various repetitions and doublings, the narrative structure (the story is told by the housekeeper to the lodger who then writes it down as a diary entry), or the archetypal analogies and semi-biblical symbolism that seems to be implicit to every part of this story. The point being, I suppose, that while Wuthering Heights may not be the wistful romance one (or maybe just I) expected to be, it is a particularly satisfying one for all of its dark and layered surprises.
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  • Emily May
    February 9, 2011
    This is my favourite book. I do not say that lightly, I've read quite a lot from all different genres and time periods, but this is my favourite book. Of all time. Ever. The ladies over at The Readventurer kindly allowed me to get my feelings of utter adoration for Wuthering Heights off my chest in their "Year of the Classics" feature, but I now realise it's time I posted a little something in this blank review space. I mean, come on, it's my favourite book so it deserves better than empty nothi This is my favourite book. I do not say that lightly, I've read quite a lot from all different genres and time periods, but this is my favourite book. Of all time. Ever. The ladies over at The Readventurer kindly allowed me to get my feelings of utter adoration for Wuthering Heights off my chest in their "Year of the Classics" feature, but I now realise it's time I posted a little something in this blank review space. I mean, come on, it's my favourite book so it deserves better than empty nothingness.So, what do I love so much about Wuthering Heights? Everything. Okay, maybe not, that wouldn't really be saying it strongly enough.What I love about this novel is the setting, the wilderness. This is not a story about niceties and upper class propriety, this is the tale of people who aren't so socially acceptable, who live away from the strict rules of civilization - it's almost as if they're not quite from the world we know. The isolation of the setting out on the Yorkshire moors between the fictional dwellings of The Heights and Thrushcross Grange emphasises how far removed these characters are from social norms, how unconventional they are, and how lonely they are.This is a novel for readers who can appreciate unlikeable characters, readers who don't have to like someone to achieve a certain level of understanding them and their circumstances. People are not born evil... so what makes them that way? What torments a man so much that he refuses to believe he has any worth? What kind of person digs up the grave of their loved one so they can see them once again? Heathcliff was not created to be liked or to earn your forgiveness, Emily Brontë simply tells his story from the abusive and unloved childhood he endured, to his obsession with the only person alive who showed him any real kindness, to his adulthood as an angry, violent man who beats his wife and imprisons the younger Cathy in order to make her marry his son.It would be so easy to hate Heathcliff, and I don't feel that he is some dark, sexy hero like others often do. But I appreciate what Emily Brontë attempts to teach us about the cycle of violence and aggression. Heathcliff eventually becomes little more than the man he hates, by being brought up with beatings and anger he in turn unleashes it on everyone else. And Cathy is no delicate flower either. What hope did Heathcliff have when the only person he ever loved was a selfish, vindictive, little wretch? But I love Emily Brontë for creating such imperfect, screwed-up characters.This is a dark novel that deals with some very complicated individuals, but I think in the end we are offered the possibility of peace and happiness through Cathy (younger) and Hareton's relationship, and the suggestion that Cathy (older) and Heathcliff were reunited in the afterlife. I had an English teacher in high school that said Cathy and Heathcliff's personalities and their relationship were too much for this world and that peace was only possible for them in the next. I have no idea if this was something Ms Bronte intended, but the romantic in me likes to imagine that it's true.
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  • karen
    December 3, 2009
    "all i care about in this goddamn life are me, my drums, and you"...if you don't know that quote, you're probably too young to be reading this and isn't it past your bedtime or shouldn't you be in school or something?but that quote, hyper-earnest cheese - that is romance. wuthering heights is something more dangerous than romance. it's one long protracted retaliation masquerading as passion. and goddamn do i love it. i can't believe i haven't reviewed it before - i mention this book in more than "all i care about in this goddamn life are me, my drums, and you"...if you don't know that quote, you're probably too young to be reading this and isn't it past your bedtime or shouldn't you be in school or something?but that quote, hyper-earnest cheese - that is romance. wuthering heights is something more dangerous than romance. it's one long protracted retaliation masquerading as passion. and goddamn do i love it. i can't believe i haven't reviewed it before - i mention this book in more than half of my reviews, i have a whole shelf devoted to its retellings, so why the delay?? but better late than never. no, it's not a perfect novel; it's a flawed structure revealing the actions of seriously flawed people. the framing device-within-a-framing-device? totally awkward. having nelly dean tell the story even though where was she for most of the action? totally wrong move, bronte; it makes the beginning such a slog to get through. but that's just stale loaf - the good stuff is all the meat in between. and oh, the meat... the swarthy stranger of mysterious origins being raised in a family of sheltered overmoist english mushrooms, all pale and rain-bloated, the running wild, two-souls-against-the-world adolescence...childhood indiscretions... vows and tantrums, bonding, unspoken promises, yes i will yes i will yes i will. oh, but wait, what's this??...it's blond and it's rich and it's whats expected of me. very well then. see ya, heathcliff...it's just textbook gothic from here on out: revenge-seduction, overheard conversations, mysterious disappearances, murdered puppies, swooning, vindictive child-rearing, death, ghosts, moors, phoar... but this to me, is a perfect love story, even though it's more like torture. the unattainable is always more romantic than the storybook. i don't like an uncomplicated ending, and a story is more impactful with nuanced characters, preferably heavily unlikeable throughout. (this is where i plug head-on - one of my favorite movies ever. do it.)this story just makes me feel good. and i'm well over my teenage fascination with the "bad boy"; i realized pretty quick that "bad boys" are usually pretty dumb. so i moved on to "emotionally disturbed", which is the same thing, really; plenty of drama, and they will leave you drunken "presents" on your lawn (road signs, carousel ponies..), but not complete burnouts, at least. but my teenaged dating pool is neither here nor there, the point is that heathcliff can be romanticized as this victim/villain without having to correspond to the ideal. it's about the level of passion, the size of the grand romantic gesture. devoting your life to destroying the people who kept you from your true love is an amazingly grand gesture.
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  • Ellen
    July 2, 2008
    I never expected this book to be as flagrantly, unforgivably bad as it was.To start, Bronte's technical choice of narrating the story of the primary characters by having the housekeeper explain everything to a tenant 20 years after it happened completely kills suspense and intimacy. The most I can say is that to some extent this functions as a device to help shroud the story and motives from the reader. But really, at the time literary technique hadn't quite always gotten around to accepting tha I never expected this book to be as flagrantly, unforgivably bad as it was.To start, Bronte's technical choice of narrating the story of the primary characters by having the housekeeper explain everything to a tenant 20 years after it happened completely kills suspense and intimacy. The most I can say is that to some extent this functions as a device to help shroud the story and motives from the reader. But really, at the time literary technique hadn't quite always gotten around to accepting that omnipotent 3rd person narrators are allowed, so you'd have to have a multiperspective story told by an omnipotent 3rd person narrator who was actually a character in the story (e.g. the housekeeper Ellen). The layers of perspective make it annoying and sometimes impossible to figure out who is telling what bit of story; and moreover, because so much is related as two characters explaining things between themselves, the result is that we rarely see any action, and instead have the entire book explained in socratic, pedantic exposition.The sense of place is poorly rendered and almost entirely missing. Great, the moor is gray.But ultimately, the most damning thing is that the characters are a bunch of immature, insuffrable, narcissistic assholes with very little self respect. This isn't a story of great love and passion. It's the story of how child abuse perpetuates itself through the generations. The characters are either emotionally abused as children or, as in the case of Cathy I, they're spoiled and overindulged with no discipline and can't muster the restraint and self-respect to ditch abusive relationships. I kept waiting for any of the characters to be remotely worth my time, but I found no respite from the brutish abuse of the horribly twisted Heathcliff or from the simpering idiocy of Cathy I and II. Ugh. Not only are there no transformations or growth, but the characters aren't even that likable to begin with. How this book got to be a classic is beyond me.
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  • Eliszard
    January 15, 2009
    Ah the classics. Everybody can read their own agenda in them. So, first a short plot guide for dinner conversations when one needs to fake acculturation, and then on to the critics’ view. A woman [1:] is in love with her non-blood brother [2:] but marries her neighbor [3:] whose sister [4:] marries the non-blood brother [2:]; their [1,3:] daughter [5:] marries their [2,4:] son [6:]; meanwhile, their [1,2:] elder brother marries and has a son [7:]. Then everybody dies, 1 of bad temper, 4 of stupi Ah the classics. Everybody can read their own agenda in them. So, first a short plot guide for dinner conversations when one needs to fake acculturation, and then on to the critics’ view. A woman [1:] is in love with her non-blood brother [2:] but marries her neighbor [3:] whose sister [4:] marries the non-blood brother [2:]; their [1,3:] daughter [5:] marries their [2,4:] son [6:]; meanwhile, their [1,2:] elder brother marries and has a son [7:]. Then everybody dies, 1 of bad temper, 4 of stupidity, 3 of a cold, 6 because he’s irritating, 2 because he’s mean and tried to rise above his station. 5 and 7 are the only ones left, so they marry. The women are all called Catherine, the men are mostly called Earnshaw, and through intermarriage everybody is a bit of a Heathcliff. The Marxist critic: the oppressed and underprivileged [2:] revolts to improve his lot in life, but fails to make allies and loses everything, as always. The Post-colonialist critic: once again the rich [1,3,4:] meddle with the lives of the poor [2:] under the pretense of improving them, in fact wrecking havoc.The Feminist critic: if only the Catherines had read The Feminine Mystique…The Freudian critic: repeated intermarriage and border-line incest make for such good stories! The Shakespearean critic: Much Ado About NothingThe Entertainment Weekly executive: stories told by sources close to the protagonists always sell well, because most people live vicariously. And dinnertime has always been the perfect slot for gossip.
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  • Jake
    February 26, 2007
    I first read this in AP English Literature - senior year of high school. This book is dense and thick and confusing, and with a class full of haters, it was hard to wrap my head around it. I subsequently read it three or four more times for classes in college and every time I read it, I loved it more. I always found some new, fascinating piece of the story I had never picked up on.The last time I read it, I suddenly realized that there were many hints and clues that Heathcliff could, in fact, be I first read this in AP English Literature - senior year of high school. This book is dense and thick and confusing, and with a class full of haters, it was hard to wrap my head around it. I subsequently read it three or four more times for classes in college and every time I read it, I loved it more. I always found some new, fascinating piece of the story I had never picked up on.The last time I read it, I suddenly realized that there were many hints and clues that Heathcliff could, in fact, be black. A quick shot at research into Liverpool, where Mr. Earnshaw found the urchin, shows that it was the home to a thriving slave trade. This theory completely changes the story, in my opinion.Or the thought someone brought up in our seminar on the Brontes - what if Nellie is in love with Heathcliff and subsequently altered how she told the story? You do find Nellie to be coincidently involved in many key scenes throughout the text. What if she isn't the good guy most readers assume she is?Wuthering Heights is one of the quintessential novels in history. There's nothing else you can really say about it, except that it's one of the best pieces of writing to ever be created. It's just that incredible.Finished for the 5th time - 11/25/2014
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  • Jackie
    September 21, 2007
    If you think that spitefulness is romantic, and that people destroying their lives is dramatic, go ahead and read this book. But don't say I didn't warn you.
  • Kellie
    February 7, 2008
    I read this book for my AP Literature class. I loved the teacher, loved the subject matter, and loved pretty much everything else we had read, so I had high hopes for this book. I must say, I made a genuine and sincere effort to like this book, I really did. I got half way through with no hope in sight, yet I perservered, hoping the second half would show promise in the next generation. No such luck. Although nothing tops the finale "love scene" between Heathcliff and Katherine, with Heathcliff I read this book for my AP Literature class. I loved the teacher, loved the subject matter, and loved pretty much everything else we had read, so I had high hopes for this book. I must say, I made a genuine and sincere effort to like this book, I really did. I got half way through with no hope in sight, yet I perservered, hoping the second half would show promise in the next generation. No such luck. Although nothing tops the finale "love scene" between Heathcliff and Katherine, with Heathcliff foaming at the mouth and a verbal battle of "no, YOU killed me" "no, you killed yourself" (a stupidity hiterto unknown since the "no YOU'RE prettier" battles). Eventually, the final pages came into view and I was desperate- there must be some redemption for this junk! Some message, some ending sequence, SOMETHING that makes this worthwhile. The characters are so self-absorbed and posses an unprecendeted lack of intelligence, yet are still portrayed as intelligent by the literary world, that it seemed like the only fitting ending would be the characters realizing their stupidity and engaging in a mass suicide. No such luck. Every last word was idiotic and as empty as the first. But you know what grinds my gears even more than the fact that I wasted a week on this worthless pseudo-classic? It kills me that people not only mistake this hoax for real literature, but reference it for ROMANTIC value! Foaming at the mouth, marrying someone you don't love, wow.... now that's a level of romance lovers fantasize about achieving.
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  • ❁ بــدريــه ❁
    December 15, 2015
    " كوني دائمًا معي، على أي صورة تريدينها، إدفعي بي للجنون ! لكن لا تتركيني هنا في هذه الهاوية، حيث لا يمكنني أن أجدك ! يا إلهي ! هذا شيء لا يوصف ! لا أستطيع العيش بدون حياتي ! لا أستطيع الحياة بدون روحي ! "•••••••••• •••••••••• •••••••••• كيف أصف هذه الرواية .. هل رومانسية و شاعرية أم هي مزخمة بمشاعر الرعب و الموت الكره و الانتقام المخيم في طياتها ؟ نحن نعلم أن الحب أسمى المشاعر و أجملها ، لكن إيميلي تأتي بنا بالحب على هيئة وحشًا مدمرًا يسوده الكره و الانتقام و الحقد الدفين منتقمًا لكل تلك المشا " كوني دائمًا معي، على أي صورة تريدينها، إدفعي بي للجنون ! لكن لا تتركيني هنا في هذه الهاوية، حيث لا يمكنني أن أجدك ! يا إلهي ! هذا شيء لا يوصف ! لا أستطيع العيش بدون حياتي ! لا أستطيع الحياة بدون روحي ! "•••••••••• •••••••••• •••••••••• كيف أصف هذه الرواية .. هل رومانسية و شاعرية أم هي مزخمة بمشاعر الرعب و الموت الكره و الانتقام المخيم في طياتها ؟ نحن نعلم أن الحب أسمى المشاعر و أجملها ، لكن إيميلي تأتي بنا بالحب على هيئة وحشًا مدمرًا يسوده الكره و الانتقام و الحقد الدفين منتقمًا لكل تلك المشاعر الجميلة ! قصة الحب بين كاثرين وهيثكليف هي قلب مرتفعات ويذرينغ ولكن العلاقة تحمل مستويات أخرى اكثر تعقيدًا وجدلًا . و مصطلح " قصة حب " شكل مبسط بما يحتوي السرد هذه روايةهي أبعد من مجرد حب و غرام، انتقام وجاذبية. هي الصراع الطبقي و هاجس الانتقام الذي عشش في روح هيثكليف الفقير اليتيم الذي وجد نفسه طفلًا على هامش عائلة ميسورة مفتونًا بحب ابنتهم الجميلة إلى حين تسربها من بين يديه نحو ابن عائلة مساوية لعائلتها اجتماعيًا . لن ينسى العاشق نظرات الاحتقار التي كان يوجهها شقيق كاثرين له ومن ثم زوجها. وستبقى الرغبة بالثأر تحوم في حياته ولن يتخلص من تلك المشاعر السلبية إلا بالموت ! ••••••••• •••••••••• •••••••••• لغة الرواية بأكملها شاعرية إلى أبعد الحدود ستجد نفسك تقرأ رواية في عالم واحد واقعي، لكن حين يدخل هيثكليف في المشهد الذي يحلم فيه " لوك وود " بالكابوس وتظهر صيحته المعذبة وهو يرجو الروح أن تعود، بدخول في هذا المشهد ، يقتحم الواقع عالم الخيال و تظهر معاناة هيثكليف بعد وفاة كاثرين و عذاباته الواضحة و جليه المزخمة بكل المتضادات حب و كره، عاطفه و انتقام، ختامًا بألم و حسره ! ••••••••••• •••••••••• ••••••••••• " إنّ حبي " للنتون " يشبه أوراق أشجار الغابة، يتغيّر ويتبدّل مع تغيُّر الزمن تمامًا كما يبدّل الشتاء هذه الأوراق. أمّا حبي " لهيثكلف " فيشبه الصخور الأبديّة، أنّه مصدر سعادة قليلة ملموسة ولكنّها ضرورية، إنّني أنا هيثكلف ! إنّه دائمًا دائمًا في مخيِّلتي، إنّه حياتي، فأرجوك ألّا تتحدّثي مرّة أخرى عن فراقنا " انتهى ..
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  • Bookdragon Sean
    May 31, 2016
    This is a review I never imagined I’d write. This is a book I was convinced I’d love. I just have to face the facts, Emily is no Charlotte.I’m going to start with the positives. The characterisation of Heathcliff is incredibly strong. He is a man who is utterly tormented by the world. As a gypsy boy he is dark skinned and dark haired, and to the English this rough, almost wild, look makes him a ruffian. He stands up for himself, and bites back; thus, he is termed a monster. In a very, very, Fran This is a review I never imagined I’d write. This is a book I was convinced I’d love. I just have to face the facts, Emily is no Charlotte.I’m going to start with the positives. The characterisation of Heathcliff is incredibly strong. He is a man who is utterly tormented by the world. As a gypsy boy he is dark skinned and dark haired, and to the English this rough, almost wild, look makes him a ruffian. He stands up for himself, and bites back; thus, he is termed a monster. In a very, very, Frankenstein’s monster like sense, his perceived outer image begins to permeate his soul. Call a man a monster, and eventually he may start acting like one. “He’s not a rough diamond - a pearl-containing oyster of a rustic; he’s a fierce, pitiless, wolfish man.”He is a very complex man, capable of great cruelty and kindness. The world has made him bitter, and in a way ruined him. He reaps revenge, but revenge always ends the same way; it doesn’t solve problems but creates more. So he becomes even more tormented, this time by his own actions. He is very Byronic, and by today’s standards a little bit of a bad boy. He has all the standard tropes of an anti-hero, one that becomes a figure that can be sympathised with and hated. He’s a very complex man. The Bronte’s were directly affected by Byron’s poetry. Rochester is Charlotte’s portrayal of a similar, albeit less vengeful, character. Love is the key torment in both works. Heathcliff has been rejected, as Rochester cannot open his heart because of his secret wife. But, rather that overcome his personal loss, and subject the world to his dark and broody personality, Heathcliff actually seeks to do others harm. He is a very sensitive man when it comes to his own emotions, though he lacks any real empathy. He does not care that he is creating more pain for others. He spends his life spreading more hate into the world. His only redeeming quality is his love for Catherine, but that doesn’t excuse his tyranny. He knows how nasty he is: "She abandoned [her home] under a delusion," he answered, "picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and acting on the false impressions she cherished." He's so self-centred: So I rather like his character, well not like but appreciate the complexity, though the novel’s structure itself was abysmal. I have quite a few problems with the narrative.Why is a servant telling us this story as she speaks to a visitor of her master’s house? Why are we hearing someone’s interpretation of the events rather than the events themselves? Why is it twenty years later in the form of an extremely long conversation? Why is the servant still actually working for Heathcliff? She would have left. Nobody would choose to work for such a man. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense. At times it felt like the credibility of the story was stretched to breaking point. Nelly (the servant) actually being in some of the scenes was almost laughable. Often it was followed by a terrible explanation attempting to justify her presence. It sounded very desperate to me. This leads perfectly on to my next point. Half way through the story (the start of volume ii) we are told that the conversation has ended. We then hear the visitor’s description of the servant’s narrative about Heathcliff’s life. I mean seriously? So there are three layers of storytelling. Isn’t that completely unnecessary and overcomplicated? Why not just have Heathcliff tell the story or at the very least have the servant tell the story from start to finish in one story arc with no time shifts. For me, it felt like Emily wrote herself into a corner with her choice of narrative and desperately tried to write herself out of it to the point of ridiculousness. How much of the story can we believe? How much bias is in the narratives?Then there was the dialogue overloads. Large parts of the novel were entirely conversational. The narration was minimalistic and bare. The only character whose thoughts we were privy to, again Nelly the servant, was completely irrelevant to the plot. Who cares about the servant’s emotion and reactions? This isn’t her story; thus, the dialogue was packed out to the point of unnaturalness to fit in the thoughts of characters whose minds we weren’t privy to. Simply put, the characters said thing people wouldn’t realistically say in conversation. It was overflowing with emotions and private thoughts. It was awkward. I’m not talking about private conversations, those don’t happen as Nelly is awkwardly present for every single event, but announcements or decisions (that should be internal) announced to a group of people. This is why plays have asides and soliloquies. And this is why novels aren’t told from the perspective of a random servant. There is clearly a great story here. Plot wise the novel is wonderful. But the way in which Emily told her story was nothing short of disastrous. It felt like a wasted opportunity. I’m absolutely horrified at how poor it is. This novel needed to be taken apart, re-wrote, and put back together again. Perhaps then it would have been worthy of the story it failed to tell. I’ve never been so massively underwhelmed in such a blatant lack of skill in a canonised piece of literature, one that has immense critical reception. Someone please tell me, what did I miss? I will be reading this again later this year; it’s on my university module so I will have to familiarise myself with it once more before my lessons. I’m not overly looking forward to it, but perhaps then my tutors will shed light on to why this is such a revered novel beyond that of a depiction romantic version of an anti-hero. But, for me, the structure and the way it was written were just terrible. I need more than a poorly told plot to enjoy a piece of literature.I thought I’d also mention Emily’s poetry. I’ve been reading through her collected works, and, I must say, I think she is a much better poet than a novelist. I admire some of her poetical works greatly.
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  • Ana
    January 24, 2017
    Beware, there are spoilers. I enjoyed this novel despite hating pretty much everyone in it. Allow me to explain. This is the kind of novel that exhausts one with never-ending drama. So much drama. So much freaking drama. The 7 Stages of reading Wuthering Heights:1. Excitement 2. Confusion3. Anxiety4. Fear5. Anger6. More anxiety7. The urge to read something uplifting, like HamletIn case you haven't figured it out by now, Emo Wuthering Heights is dark. Dark, gloomy, cold and gothic. Those who Beware, there are spoilers. I enjoyed this novel despite hating pretty much everyone in it. Allow me to explain. This is the kind of novel that exhausts one with never-ending drama. So much drama. So much freaking drama. The 7 Stages of reading Wuthering Heights:1. Excitement 2. Confusion3. Anxiety4. Fear5. Anger6. More anxiety7. The urge to read something uplifting, like HamletIn case you haven't figured it out by now, Emo Wuthering Heights is dark. Dark, gloomy, cold and gothic. Those who know a thing or two about Emily Brontë, also known as Ellis Bell, aren't surprised by the novel's gloominess. No one else could have written this book. Most of Wuthering Heights' characters are unable to behave like decent human beings. What's with all the animal and child abuse? Why is everyone so rude? Why is everyone so crazy? Why is everyone so unstable? Why is everyone so violent? Why is... aghhhh! Wuthering Heights is a story about... you know, Wuthering Heights. It's not only a location, it's so much more than that. It's a character, as real as Heathcliff and Catherine. I can imagine it existing, dark and mysterious, somewhere in the universe. The main protagonists are Heathcliff, an orphan raised by the Earnshaw family, and Catherine Earnshaw, the daughter of the owner of Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff. He's a I love you so much I'll dig up your corpse kind of guy. His favorite pastime is being haunted by his lady love's ghost. Who's he gonna call? Not Ghostbusters, apparently. Catherine. Slapped people before it was cool. Throwing shade everywhere. Catherine and Heathcliff fall madly in love. As Cathy famously says, "whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." Considering they're both mad, it's really no surprise that Heathcliff and Cathy have a seriously messed up bond. Heathcliff is no hero. I can't stress this enough. He is perceived by some as heroic. A romantic hero. To that I say- LOL. Heath is no Ralph de Bricassart. He's no Colonel Brandon. He is vindictive, cruel, kicks and kills dogs, is abusive towards other people, has no compassion for anyone but himself. Catherine is hardly a saint, either. She is wild, disruptive, arrogant, selfish, throws temper tantrums, unable to control her emotions. No wonder they became BFFs/soulmates. Truthfully, those two never really grew up. They can't do adult things. Rational thinking, the ability to forgive, selfless love? Forget it, that's not their style. But despite their many faults, I can't help but feel sorry for them. I always feel sorry for doomed lovers. I try to see the good in everyone. Heath and Cathy DID have redeeming qualities. Their passion was wild and all-consuming, and this was ultimately their undoing.Now excuse me, I have to go. I think someone's knocking on my window. *cue the gothic music*
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  • Madeline
    April 5, 2010
    If you've been following my status updates as I read this book, you can probably guess what kind of review this is going to be. (answer: the best kind!) So let's get the good stuff out of the way first, and then I can start the ranting. Good stuff: I liked some of the characters. Ellen was sweet, and seemed to be the only sensible person in the story. And lord, does she get put through a lot of shit. Girlfriend needs a hug and a spa weekend after all she's been through. I also liked Catherine II If you've been following my status updates as I read this book, you can probably guess what kind of review this is going to be. (answer: the best kind!) So let's get the good stuff out of the way first, and then I can start the ranting. Good stuff: I liked some of the characters. Ellen was sweet, and seemed to be the only sensible person in the story. And lord, does she get put through a lot of shit. Girlfriend needs a hug and a spa weekend after all she's been through. I also liked Catherine II and Hareton - unlike their romantic predecessors (and believe me, we'll get to those two soon), they were likeable most of the time. Sure, they had their jackass moments, but considering their respective upbringings, can you really blame them? Also, they reminded me of Bender and Claire from The Breakfast Club. Like I said, kind of irritating and stupid, but sweet. I also appreciated the incredible passion of the story (and the passionate emotions it raised in me) Sure, I hated Heathcliff, but even I swooned a little during his final scene with Cathy. Sure, Emily Bronte has written the most terrifying portrayal of a love story I've ever seen (Fatal Attraction? Pfft.), but she did it really, really well. Terrifying as it is. Which brings me to the next section of this review...Bad Stuff: I cannot, for the life of me, understand why anyone thinks this is a love story. It's a horror story of love and passion gone horribly, horribly wrong, and Heathcliff is one of the greatest villains ever created in literature. Notice I said "villain" and not "antihero." Heathcliff is not an antihero. He is a sociopath, and for the last fifty pages of the story I wanted to violently murder him so badly that my hands were shaking as I held the book. He is evil. Cathy doesn't get my sympathy, either. She was a spoiled, unfeeling bitch during every moment she was present in the story, and it's only because she was dead by page 200 that she didn't make me as angry as Heathcliff did - she simply didn't have enough time. But let's get back to Heathcliff - I cannot outline here all of the evil things he did over the course of the story, and to do so would probably be to give away spoilers. Let me just say this: I now understand completely why Wuthering Heights is being advertised in bookstores as "Bella and Edwards Favorite Book!". It should be. As I said in a comment on one of my statuses: Edward Cullen is good, but Heathcliff wrote the fucking book on Domestic Abuse Thinly Disguised As Love. I don't know why so many readers get all fangirly over Heathcliff. He's an asshole, a sociopath, and even he knows how evil he is. As he says of Isabella, a girl he marries and then treats so horribly I can't even talk about it right now: "She abandoned them under a delusion...picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character, and acting on the false impression she has cherished."Hear that, Heathcliff fangirls? Even he thinks you're all morons for liking him. And, just to end this on a good note: I've shared this webcomic before, but it fits here too because, let's face it, the Bronte sisters had terrible taste in men.
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  • Amalia Gavea
    June 14, 2016
    How can I find and put together the suitable words and write a review about one of the most iconic creations in World Literature? One of those books that provoke such intense feelings that either you worship them or you utterly hate them. There is no middle ground. Every year, I revisit Wuthering Heights for two reasons. First, it is one of my personal Christmas traditions and secondly, I prepare extracts to use in class for my intermediate level students. This year, I finally felt confident eno How can I find and put together the suitable words and write a review about one of the most iconic creations in World Literature? One of those books that provoke such intense feelings that either you worship them or you utterly hate them. There is no middle ground. Every year, I revisit Wuthering Heights for two reasons. First, it is one of my personal Christmas traditions and secondly, I prepare extracts to use in class for my intermediate level students. This year, I finally felt confident enough to write a text. I will not call it a review, but a summary of what this masterpiece means for me, what I feel each time I gaze upon its title.I was 12 when my mother made me a special gift. (I have a mother that gave me a book about self-destructive love and a father that gave me Crime and Punishment a year later. I know, they rock!) It was a thick volume with a dark cover. A cover as black as the night scene it depicted. A young couple running in the moors against the wind, and a black, foreboding mansion looming in the background. To this day, that cherished Greek edition of Emily's only novel is the most beautiful I've ever seen. I read it in a single day. I remember it was a windy day, a summer torrent rain that lasted all afternoon. It left me speechless. It shaped me. It shaped my reading preferences, it shaped my love for eerie, dark, doomed, haunting stories with twisted anti-heroes. It even shaped the choice of my profession.When I was 15, one of the best teachers I've ever had gave us a project. She divided us into groups and asked us to make a presentation of our favourite book. She put me in a group with two classmates. Such kind and charming souls they were but would never open a book if their lives depended on it. I didn't care, I was happy because I'd get to choose the book. We left our teacher crying buckets in the classroom, marking a heroic A+ on our papers. During the 3rd year in university, we had to complete individual assignments. I'll let you guess the theme and the book I chose. My professor had to interrupt me at some point, kindly but firmly. ''Yes, thank you, Amalia, this is great, but there are others waiting, you know.'' Were they? Anyway, you get the point. My level of obsession with this novel equal Heathcliff's obsession with Cathy.Emily Brontë's novel may not be for everyone. It doesn't matter. Nothing is for everyone. But, she has created an eternal tale -or nightmare- of a love that is destructive, dark, twisted and stranger than all the other sweet, lovey-dovey stories that have been written. She has created one of the most iconic couples in Literature, she has provided the first and finest example of the Anti-hero in the face of Heathcliff. She has ruined many girls' expectations, because who wouldn't want to be loved as fiercely as Cathy was? (For years, my notion of the ideal man was Ralph Fiennes as Heathcliff in the 1992 film. The best adaptation of the novel, with Juliette Binoche as Cathy) How many writers who have written only one novel can claim to have accomplished all these?One of the reasons I became a teacher was to have the opportunity to teach this book. It is my greatest satisfaction when I see its impact on my teenage students. They are familiar with the bleak and twisted tales of our times, nothing shocks them anymore. They love it unanimously, it is a rare case where boys and girls love the same book equally. So, mission accomplished. ''I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!'' For me, this book is my soul. It lies there, making the question ''What is your favourite book?'' the easiest ever.P.S. Please, God, when I die, put me in a sector where I can meet Emily. You can keep Shakespeare, Austin, Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. I prefer long talks with a disturbed, fragile, wild girl...
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  • Vessey
    May 5, 2014
    SPOILERS“I am Heathcliff – he’s always, always in my mind – not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself – but as my own being.” Passion. Desire. Love. Are they the same thing? If we are so intoxicated by someone as ending up seeing them as a mirror to our own self, is this love? It is. Sometimes. But sometimes it is sign not of devotion, but of egotism so strong that it stops us from seeing the actual person and we imagine a likeness that isn’t there just in order to fulfil SPOILERS“I am Heathcliff – he’s always, always in my mind – not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself – but as my own being.” Passion. Desire. Love. Are they the same thing? If we are so intoxicated by someone as ending up seeing them as a mirror to our own self, is this love? It is. Sometimes. But sometimes it is sign not of devotion, but of egotism so strong that it stops us from seeing the actual person and we imagine a likeness that isn’t there just in order to fulfill our needs. I believe that Catherine loves Heathcliff, but I don’t believe she understands him or desires to. By believing he would agree to her plan she shows how little she takes into account what he actually is. She is so lost in her passion that she isn’t willing to admit the difference between them. It is a dangerous thing to be so absorbed by passion for someone that you don’t even care to understand and accept them for who they are. You just want to own them. By making the choice of marrying another man and keeping Heathcliff by her side as a lover whom she would support with her husband’s money she gives up on the very thing that has connected them so far, on the very thing that has stood at the core of their love. Freedom. They both grow up as captives of society that does not understand and accept them for who they are. He is the only one in front of whom she can be herself and she is the only one in front of whom he can be himself. But by choosing to dissemble and submit, Catherine loses that spark that initially connects them. She believes it is for their own good. He is heartbroken. When he comes back, he spends so much time and energy trying to bring back a girl who no longer exists. He cannot stand the woman she has turned herself into. In this case, is he still in love with her or merely in the memory of her? When the person we have loved loses the part that has held our affections, when should we give up on them and when should we devote ourselves to restoring that part? "He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."Their tragedy lies exactly in the fact that they are not the same. He wants freedom, she wants security. Benjamin Franklin says 'Those who surrender freedom for security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one.' I neither agree, nor disagree. I believe it is a very subjective matter. It isn’t that simple. But in the case of Catherine it really does turn out this way. In the end she has neither comfort, nor freedom.How much do we know those who we claim to love? We all risk to see something that isn’t actually there or miss something that is. Either blinded by passion or by our desire to recreate the objects of our passion. If we cannot truly accept our loved ones for who they are and we try to change them, then do we truly love them or simply those we would like them to be? Can such a distinction be made? Or is it a little bit of both? Do we love only those parts of our partners that resemble ourselves or are we willing to love even those we cannot accept? Are love and acceptance the same thing? It isn’t uncommon for a person to try changing their loved one, but sometimes the good and the bad come from the same place and if we happen to succeed, we are at risk of destroying the good as well. Catherine tries to tame Heathcliff and in doing so, she destroys him. His passionate love turns into passionate hatred.Feeling so close to someone as not to know where you end and they begin is either a sign of profound affinity or a profound delusion. Love is merciful and cruel, generous and selfish, sorrow and ecstasy. We all lose something and gain something by choosing to give into another person. Change is inevitable. Sometimes we get stronger, sometimes we are ruined. Sometimes it is a little bit of both. Some of us find their worthy partners, some, sadly, never do. But I believe that no matter on which side of the coin you turn out, staying faithful to yourself is always the right choice.
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  • Nataliya
    May 25, 2013
    Not often do I decide to edit the review - and change the opinion of the book I initially detested - mere days after writing a 'why I hated it' opus. Emily Bronte, you mastermind!In addition to learning truly horrifying things through the comments from my fellow lovely Goodreaders (people have told me that not only Heathcliff and Catherine's horrible story served as an inspiration for 'Twilight - a story that's paraded as a love story; and - brrrr - that "in almost all polls on most romantic lit Not often do I decide to edit the review - and change the opinion of the book I initially detested - mere days after writing a 'why I hated it' opus. Emily Bronte, you mastermind!In addition to learning truly horrifying things through the comments from my fellow lovely Goodreaders (people have told me that not only Heathcliff and Catherine's horrible story served as an inspiration for 'Twilight - a story that's paraded as a love story; and - brrrr - that "in almost all polls on most romantic literary figure, Heathcliff takes the lead") I read this comment from Teresa: "I think I read somewhere -- maybe in this book: Emily Bronte: The Artist As a Free Woman -- that she was creating her own world (and the book does seem claustrophobic with its two framing narrators), her own mythos. If one sees that interpretation, I think Heathcliff could be viewed almost as a Zeus-figure, another petty and vengeful 'entity.' ... a comment that, combined with her observation in another comment that "the names Hindley/Heathcliff/Hareton all started with the same letter, not to mention having two Catherines -- an enclosed world that repeated itself" led me to realize that yes, in a mind-blowing turn of events this book is a genius take on the completely secluded, isolated world that lives only by its own rules, ruled by its own godlike creatures, and bears little resemblance to and has little influence from the larger universe outside of it.*Two Catherines in this book - and both of them take a journey between the stops of 'Catherine Earnshaw', 'Catherine Heathcliff' and 'Catherine Linton' - because what other options do they have? Even young Cathy, so seemingly close to possibly leaving this enclosed corner of the universe thanks to sudden fascination Lockwood (a man of the outside world) takes to her, ultimately remains tightly tethered to the place she knows, remaining with an Earnshaw - her first cousin (because who else is there?)Heathcliff, who could have had the world, comes back to rule the little universe into which he was adopted, unable to leave the country of grey moors.And everyone else is a Linton - another link in the chain that connects everyone else. And the little world of this novel takes no one else in who is not a Linton, a Cathy or an incarnation of Heathcliff/Hareton/Hindley. Everyone stays together, their fates tied only to one another, with disregard to the world outside. Only Isabella (who never seems to have fit into this world anyway) manages to escape - but remains tethered to this world by her child, Linton Heathcliff, who - thanks to his names - is powerless to escape being sucked into this little corner of the universe and become a pathetic little villain.And this world, free from the influence outside, just continues to go in its own little circle, being its own little - and terrifying - universe.Ok, mindblowing. Enough to up my star rating by a full star. Emily Bronte, your mind was darker than I gave it credit for. Touché. ------------------------ORIGINAL REVIEW FROM LONG AGO (a.k.a. a few days - an eternity in the eyes of a fruitfly, however)------------Ok, I'll be honest - I decided to read this one really because the word 'Wuthering' had for a while been fascinating my non-native speaker brain¹¹ Basically, brain insists it should be 'wIthering.' Computer spellcheck agrees. And both of them are wrong. Plus, I have also been introduced to it by - of course! - pop culture, courtesy of Phoebe Buffay:(In the remainder of this episode, Rachel ends up comparing 'Jane Eyre' to 'Robocop', to Phoebe's utmost delight.)------------------------Ok, back to serious now.This book had one of the most promising beginnings in all the literature. No joke. The narrator's stumbling into Heathcliff's household leads to the opening chapter as surreal and creepy as a nightmare you really want to wake up from but cannot. Seriously, let's look back to the beginning of the tale - with Heathcliff, and the dogs, and the creepiest servant since Igor, and strange perplexing characters of Hareton and Cathy, all in the most gothic setting a 19th century mind could have conjured. Lovely, just lovely.But then a meddling self-righteous servant sat down to tell the story of Cathy and Heathcliff and everyone else caught in the destructive hurricane those two left in their selfish wake - and something changed, the magic dissolved. I was promised passion and wilderness. Instead I got a cold wearisome shower of egotistical, self-absorbed, shallow, destructive, prejudiced, reckless petty disregard for anyone else from everyone else, combined with clear cases of sociopathic, narcissistic, and spoiled to the core people damaging everything they come in contact with. It's not wild passion; it's self-absorbed selfishness and nothing more. It's a spoiled brat in a grocery store flinging himself on the floor and throwing a raging, embarrassing tantrum because he just has to have that unnecessary piece of candy. No, I'm not a fan of anger, revenge and possessiveness trying to masquerade as wild love and passion. Neither Catherine nor Heathcliff love one another; instead of love they might as well just selfishly scream, "WAAAAAANT!!!"Heathcliff is not wild - he is a cruel sociopath. Catherine is not wild and passionate - she is a haughty and spoiled thoughtless creature.And I cannot help asking, dear reader - What is the point? --------------Yes, I understand the balls ovaries needed for making such repulsive personalities be the center of your story (actually, that's not just Cathy and Heathcliff being repugnant; think of Hindley, and Hareton, and - brrrr! - Joseph, and young Linton, and even young Cathy, and to a point the ever-meddling self-righteous unsure-where-her-allegiance-lies-but-probably-with-whoever-the-current-master-happens-to-be Nelly Dean), and to systematically beat out any possible feel-good moment in this book. It probably was not an easy book to write, and definitely is not an easy book to read.But because of all that I could not bring myself to care in the least. What's worse, the little cringeworthy details peppered throughout the story became even more obvious in the light of me disliking the book:- Like the constant neverending out-of-character moments that all the action here seems to hinge upon (Heathcliff's sudden madness/death; Catherine's reaction to the argument between Heathcliff and Edgar; Cathy and Hareton's sudden feelings for each other; to name a few).- Contrived happy-ish ending: a thought that young Cathy will end up with a man who has physically assaulted her in the past and be happy with him in a Stockholm Syndrome-like fashion - and for it (a) to seem like a good choice and (b) the violence presented as something she had coming for daring to have a 'saucy' tongue. - Actually, constant violence, threats, marital rape - the stuff that would make even George R.R. Martin seem like a tender-hearted softie. - Constant reminders of darkness of Heathcliff's character being tied to the darkness of his skin - while white paleness of the Lintons provides a contrast of civilization to the brute. Dark skin = evil, right? Ah, Miss Bronte, really?- Constant nervous outbreaks and the destructive passion of feelings that after a while became much too repetitive.- The predictable cycle of Heathcliff or Catherine wanting something --> rudeness --> physical violence to those they perceive to be their inferiors --> some contrived disease brought on by nervous exhaustion or something of the sort --> someone probably dies for no reason than the effects of wild passions --> rinse, repeat.- Joseph's dialect. Need I say more?And, all throughout, I realized that I just could no longer care about the story that brought two English families living on the wild moors to the state that the narrator observes in such a promising beginning of this book. I think I was too exhausted with this story to care. It tried too hard to unapologetically be dark and brooding and bleak - and succeeded in just wearing me out. 2 stars and valiant attempts to dodge the shower of rotten eggs and rotten tomatoes heading my way.
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  • Samadrita
    September 30, 2012
    It is a testament to the overabundance of cliches clogging the realms of literature featuring romance, that readers widely associate the middle Brontë sister's tour de force with vindictive fury, abuse and emotional excesses rather than love. Because bestowing approval on an unnatural, obsessive love that devoured everything in its vicinity out of pure malice somehow throws our moral compass into a tizzy.Last time I read this, Emily Brontë had cruelly crushed a child's enjoyment of a book much l It is a testament to the overabundance of cliches clogging the realms of literature featuring romance, that readers widely associate the middle Brontë sister's tour de force with vindictive fury, abuse and emotional excesses rather than love. Because bestowing approval on an unnatural, obsessive love that devoured everything in its vicinity out of pure malice somehow throws our moral compass into a tizzy.Last time I read this, Emily Brontë had cruelly crushed a child's enjoyment of a book much like Heathcliff remorselessly causes the universe stretching between the extremities of Thrushcross Grange and Wuthering Heights to implode violently. She had sucked me into a vortex of dark, inchoate feelings for a week or so from which I found difficult to extricate myself. But this time? The pages flew by. My spirit soared every time Brontë breached a boundary of what the voices in favor of the status quo label propriety, demolished a stereotype, let her heroine roam the outdoors as freely as she could with the one person who never sought to reduce her individuality to a compilation of 'feminine' attributes. And the romance? It made me swoon. So pardon me if I shun those patriarchy-approved alpha males who infantilize their lovers, their false sheen of dignity and restraint, the promise of domesticated happily-ever-afters, and righteous, unidimensional do-gooders. I crave for Emily's brutal candour instead, her courageous glorification of this earth-shattering, all-consuming desire to melt, to unite with the one you covet, with nary a care for what it may entail. The love that heats up your blood and is food for your soul and percolates every fibre of your being. But, Heathcliff, if I dare you now, will you venture? If you do, I'll keep you. I'll not lie there by myself: they may bury me twelve feet deep, and throw the church down over me, but I won't rest till you are with me. I never will! Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship was beyond their own control and comprehension, a storm which wreaked havoc in the lives of those who sought to throttle it, a force of nature which subsided only when both its initiators were reconciled in death free to resume their wild, unchecked peregrinations across the stretch of earth which they claimed as their very own - the moors, which divorced from worldly considerations of wars, Empire and inequality, became the only utopia which could accommodate their calamitous passion for each other. I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree-filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day-I am surrounded with her image! Sartre in his preface (passionate endorsement) to Frantz Fanon's The Wretched of the Earth says - "...he shows perfectly clearly that this irrepressible violence is neither a storm in a teacup nor the reemergence of savage instincts nor even a consequence of resentment: it is man restructuring himself." And that's as concise and succinct a defense I can provide for Heathcliff, his rage that won't be quelled and its devastating manifestations. The Heathcliff without a second name, the perpetual outsider in a white-washed society breeding manifold evils, the other, the 'thing' which Nelly Dean, Mrs Earnshaw, Hindley and even the infant Catherine see as nothing other than a dirty, smelly, baseborn creature deserving of contempt. A person of color stranded in a world increasingly being cleaved into virulent polarities of light and dark, Occident and Orient, powerful and powerless, colonizer and colonized, white master and black slave, abuser and abused. Violence is the language of the oppressed after all, especially because the oppressor teaches him no better. I wish I had light hair and a fair skin, and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance of being as rich as he will be! And Catherine? I disagree with Simone de Beauvoir when she asserts - "She uses his words, she repeats his gestures, adopts his manias and tics. "I am Heathcliff," says Catherine in Wuthering Heights; this is the cry of all women in love; she is another incarnation of the beloved, his reflection, his double: she is he. She lets her own world flounder in contingence: she lives in his universe." This certainly typifies heroines populating the wide spectrum of conventional romance novels in general. But I consider Catherine exempt from this pigeonholing. A few moments from her death she contemplates reverting to her sexless girlhood to be reunited with a childhood companion only with whom she had savoured true liberty, to travel back to a time when societal mores hadn't impressed upon her a catastrophic urge for conformity. And if Catherine finds herself to be interchangeable from her other half, then Heathcliff, too, wills himself to dissolve with her into the embrace of the earth which does not discriminate between the baptized and the heathen. '...I dreamt I was sleeping the last sleep by that sleeper, with my heart stopped and my cheek frozen against hers.'And if she had been dissolved into earth, or worse, what would you have dreamt of then?' I said.'Of dissolving with her, and being more happy still!' he answered. There. If Catherine is Heathcliff, then Heathcliff, too, is Catherine. Beings seeking to overturn the societal injunction against their individuation and find their salvation in each other. A salvation they could attain only when Emily ushers in the element of the paranormal, the much vilified, belittled 'gothic'. So take away your insidious Rochesters and sanctimonious Jane Eyres and gentrified romances put on a pedestal. Give me Heathcliff and Catherine instead. Give me their petulant anger, their restlessness and their feral love.
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  • Renato Magalhães Rocha
    April 28, 2014
    I approached this book expecting to read about a beautiful and tragic love story: instead, I came across an intensive hate story, a revenge tale - but love was nowhere to be found. Actually, let me state this better: there was love at first... but it was the mere beginning, the catalyst. Love was there only to encompass all the hatred, to imprison it. It was not love itself, but solely a small and transparent bottle with a beautiful "love" inscription engraved on it - in a lovely calligraphy wit I approached this book expecting to read about a beautiful and tragic love story: instead, I came across an intensive hate story, a revenge tale - but love was nowhere to be found. Actually, let me state this better: there was love at first... but it was the mere beginning, the catalyst. Love was there only to encompass all the hatred, to imprison it. It was not love itself, but solely a small and transparent bottle with a beautiful "love" inscription engraved on it - in a lovely calligraphy with hearts and flowers decorating it -, and once love was thrown away and fell to the floor, it broke, and its content - hate itself - was set free like a dark red smoke spreading slowly but surely, like a poison or a curse, intoxicating those around who dared to breathe.Emily Brontë was very masterful in her writing by using shifts in time - through flashbacks - and different and unreliable narrators to tell the story of the Earnshaws and Lintons. The book begins in 1801, when a man called Lockwood rents a house known as Thrushcross Grange from a weatlhy man named Heathcliff, who in turn lives in the Wuthering Heights. While paying his landlord a visit, Lockwood is forced to spend his first night there due to a snow storm and, while in his designated bedroom, his attention is grabbed by the name "Catherine" that's written in many books that are just sitting around. Too affected by her diary entries on those books and the whole dark atmosphere of the Wuthering Heights, he ends up having a nightmare with a girl named Catherine; waking up scared, he screams until Heathcliffe barges into the bedroom to see what the fuss is all about - and what follows is a very impressive scene. In the morning, Lockwood finally left to the Thrushcross Grange where he met Nelly Dean, the housekeeper who's been in the family for decades. Still not sure that what he saw was just a dream, he asks her about Catherine and Nelly starts to tell him her account of the events.Back in 1771, Mr. Earnshaw (father of Hindley and Catherine) comes back from a trip bringing home Heathcliff - a "dark-skinned gypsy in aspect" - whom he decides to adopt. He then becomes Catherine's best friend over the years. Almost ten years later, Heathcliff overhears Catherine saying that it would be degrading to marry him and that she was going to marry neighbor Edgar Linton instead. Deciding to escape and run away, Heathcliff is absent for three years and comes back rich and powerful with a plan of a vengeance: to be the sole tormentor of both Earnshaw and Linton families not only for one, but for two generations.It's known that Emily Brontë and her sisters started exercising their imagination as children by playing with some wooden soldiers for which they created stories. Wuthering Heights was written in her late twenties, but the novel still carried an atmosphere of little soldiers being toyed with inside of a small box. Like them, Emily's characters seemed to live isolated in a gloomy and dark box - almost like an experiment - where it was unlikely that they wouldn't become a product of that unsettling environment and impossible that their emotions and feelings wouldn't be taken to extremes making everything turn into matters of life and death.Like Emma and Madame Bovary - novels from the same period - I had a hard time feeling sympathy for the story's protagonists, especially the main couple as Heathcliff was too bitter and hateful towards everyone, and Catherine as she chose another man to marry, not the one that she really loved - not that there's anything wrong with considering status and reputation while deciding on whom to marry but, as far as love stories go, it was difficult to care for both of them - well, not only for them: it seems not even one character was truly likeable. However, the young Catherine - Cathy Linton - is an amazing, vivid character. I kept expecting her to jump out of the pages - in this case, out of my Kindle - and start running around in my living room and flipping through the pages of my books.It was precisely through the spirited Cathy - and Hareton, her cousin - that the author inserted some hope into her story. Destined to repeat the fate of the previous generation, they ended up breaking Heathcliff's revenge ties and found some comfort and love in each other when it seemed all matters were lost. Had the Brontë sister not died so soon after publishing her biggest accomplishment in writing, maybe then she would have written a true love story: that of Cathy and Hareton.Rating: I was torn between 3 and 4 stars while deciding on my rating for this book. I ended up going with 4 as I enjoyed Emily's prose very much and I think she excelled in writing characters with such conflicting and interesting human's emotions, even though I wouldn't take them with me to my toys box.
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  • Henry Avila
    October 18, 2012
    Cathy and Heathcliff, a love story? At the beginning of our narrative Mr.Lockwood, a tenant of Thrushcross Grange, visits his landlord Mr.Heathcliff, at Wuthering Heights, four long miles away, across the cold, eerie, moors, people back then walked a great distance, they had few options, without much complaining, troubled Lockwood, wants to get away from society (he came to the right place). The setting is northern England, 1801, in the Yorkshire Moors, a vast, remote, desolate, and gloomy grass Cathy and Heathcliff, a love story? At the beginning of our narrative Mr.Lockwood, a tenant of Thrushcross Grange, visits his landlord Mr.Heathcliff, at Wuthering Heights, four long miles away, across the cold, eerie, moors, people back then walked a great distance, they had few options, without much complaining, troubled Lockwood, wants to get away from society (he came to the right place). The setting is northern England, 1801, in the Yorkshire Moors, a vast, remote, desolate, and gloomy grassland, beautiful and ugly at the same time, a haunting locale. Lockwood is the only person who likes Heathcliff, " a capital fellow", in the area, he sees something no one else does, on his mournful face, sadness, maybe even regret ? ( like himself). Later he learns the story of his landlord's tragic life, through Mrs.Nelly Dean, his servant at Thrushcross Grange, for three generations there, she tells him about the life of Heathcliff, found in the streets of Liverpool, hungry , crying, dirty, all alone, without anyone caring, at the tender age of two, but the compassionate Mr.Earnshaw, a wealthy man , Catherine's (Cathy's) father and takes him home. They never discovered the boy's true identity, but because of the child's dark complexion, everyone calls him a gypsy. The two, Catherine and Heathcliff, grow up as brother and sister, at Wuthering Heights, always together, Cathy and the unwanted orphan, playing on the lonely moors, they are soulmates . Resented by Cathy's older brother, Hindley, (who beats him many times) in fact everyone does, but the gentle Mr.Earnshaw, who loves the boy. Morose, showing no emotions, he can't afford to, still very angry underneath, because of how others treat him, as an inferior, Heathcliff, was never given another name. When teenager Cathy decides to marry Edgar Linton , from a respected, well off family , and Heathcliff hears about it , he disappears to parts unknown, the penniless man feels betrayed....Years pass and Heathcliff comes back from America, rich, nobody learns how, and he doesn't say either, probably not quite honestly, and seeks vengeance. The children of each estate, the Linton's of Thrushcross Grange and the Earnshaw's of Wuthering Heights, inherit their respective homes, Cathy wants to maintain a friendship and maybe more with Heathcliff, the weak Edgar of course hates the gypsy, but can't stop the two from seeing each other, the attraction is too powerful. The triangle will soon dissolve, people come and go but the moors abide. Strong novel, with a bittersweet plot... Love or despise this classic, you cannot help but admire its quality.
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  • Jason Koivu
    September 26, 2010
    Wuthering Heights by Emily BrontëVile people are mean to one another.The End
  • Kiki
    January 2, 2012
    This book was a fucking slog.That probably sounds strange coming from someone who read the entirety of The Divine Comedy three times for sport, but damn; I'll take biblical poetry any day over this damn wreck.My mother loves this book. So does one of my dearest writer friends. Sorry, ladies - it made me want to barf. I understand the attraction, I do. The idea of being immersed in this world of secrets and following the dark, twisted lives of the stupid passionate characters can be incredibly ap This book was a fucking slog.That probably sounds strange coming from someone who read the entirety of The Divine Comedy three times for sport, but damn; I'll take biblical poetry any day over this damn wreck.My mother loves this book. So does one of my dearest writer friends. Sorry, ladies - it made me want to barf. I understand the attraction, I do. The idea of being immersed in this world of secrets and following the dark, twisted lives of the stupid passionate characters can be incredibly appealing. Sadly, I did not feel the appeal. I only felt this intense black hatred toward every single one of the insipid, selfish characters and basically, the whole thing was a hot mess of the worst kind. A truly skilled author can make even the most irredeemable character likable; sadly, I could not muster a scrap of empathy for any of them. There was not one part of me that, upon finishing this book, did not wish I hadn't bothered. Yes, I read this voluntarily. Yes, my mother encouraged that I do so. Yes, I delivered this pile of paper back at her when I was done with an ominous whisper of, "Book club will not be resuming next week. Thank you for your time."Usually I love a good "classic" (classic in quotations because some of the books people claim to be classics are just literary bile), but this was something else. Torture, yes. Sorry, Ms. Bronte. I hate your book. No offense.
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  • Kalliope
    January 20, 2017
    Well, well, well… Hell should not be a surprise. We live surrounded by the notion that it threatens us all at the end of our days. What I did not expect was to find it in this book. My delusion had made me avoid reading Wuthering Heights for years. I had thought it was a passionate, histrionic and corny love story draped in gothic garb. But this was evil on earth, with Bosch’s horrid Tree-Man reappearing under the name of Heathcliff, swallowing into its vile frame anything that dared approach it Well, well, well… Hell should not be a surprise. We live surrounded by the notion that it threatens us all at the end of our days. What I did not expect was to find it in this book. My delusion had made me avoid reading Wuthering Heights for years. I had thought it was a passionate, histrionic and corny love story draped in gothic garb. But this was evil on earth, with Bosch’s horrid Tree-Man reappearing under the name of Heathcliff, swallowing into its vile frame anything that dared approach it, while watching the process with an expression of sarcasm, delight and spite. And even if there is a sort of Redemption, with visions and all, that seems to solve away the hideous, this novel, and its language that revels in hatred, does not provide its own atonement. Just like Bosch. It is its viciousness that is attractive.How could a young woman write this wicked, and brilliant, invention at the time and place that she did? It has shattered several of my misconceptions about the (early) Victorian age.I am left with the enigma. -------The missing star is because at times the characters develop in not altogether convincing ways.
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  • Diane
    September 2, 2013
    I was not prepared for how bleak this book was. I had seen movie versions of Wuthering Heights, but this was my first time reading the novel, and it was much darker than I expected. So many of the characters are utterly unlikable! Cathy is selfish and foolish and obstinate; Heathcliff is brutal and vengeful and psychotic; Hindley is spiteful and venomous and a drunkard. And when Edgar and Isabella Linton enter the story, everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Why, oh why, did Cathy marry Edgar I was not prepared for how bleak this book was. I had seen movie versions of Wuthering Heights, but this was my first time reading the novel, and it was much darker than I expected. So many of the characters are utterly unlikable! Cathy is selfish and foolish and obstinate; Heathcliff is brutal and vengeful and psychotic; Hindley is spiteful and venomous and a drunkard. And when Edgar and Isabella Linton enter the story, everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Why, oh why, did Cathy marry Edgar when she admitted she loved Heathcliff? As a reader, I wanted to shake her and scream at her that she was making a disastrous choice. Let's hear it from Cathy herself: I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven; and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low, I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heatchliff now; so he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.Yes, I know Cathy felt she couldn't marry Heathcliff because of his low birth and lack of education, but considering how isolated they were in Yorkshire, did it really matter that much? Was that Bronte's point -- that disobeying one's heart by following the courtship rules of one's social class caused suicidal and homicidal ravings? I agreed with Heathcliff when he later scolded Cathy for her decision:You teach me now how cruel you've been -- cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you -- they'll damn you. You loved me -- then what right had you to leave me? What right -- answer me -- for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart -- you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.There was such violence in this book! Women are beaten and locked up; children are bullied and abused; punches are thrown, shots are fired, and even dogs are kicked and hung. Egad. I can imagine how shocking it must have been to the good folks of England when it was published in 1847, learning that not only did a woman write it, but that she was a clergyman's daughter, and the story involved a married woman having a tryst with another man. Wowsers. Despite not liking the darkness of the novel, I thought the writing was good and the structure was interesting: the servant Nelly Dean relates the history of the doomed love affair to an outsider. The servant was an interloper and kept informed on events in both houses. I can't imagine a more effective way to tell the story of the love triangle. I wouldn't trust either Heathcliff or Cathy or one of the children as a narrator, they might only tell their parent's side of things. Of course, it's also interesting that Nelly Dean may not be a reliable narrator either. She often edits and omits what she tells the master; why should we believe she'd tell an outsider the whole truth? It took me twice as long to get through this novel as it should have -- it was so bleak that I was hesitant to pick it up. The only other Bronte sister book I've read was Jane Eyre, which I liked very much, but that love story at least has some warmth in it. In contrast, Wuthering Heights left me feeling cold and bitter. I'm glad I've read it, but I don't think it's one I'll be rereading anytime soon.
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  • s.penkevich
    September 24, 2011
    ‘Honest people don't hide their deeds.’Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights is a dark and enormously fervent tale of love and obsession. This is not love with lace, frills and flowers, but shorn of all the decorous notions to reveal an intensity more akin to beast than man.It is no surprise that this novel was tough for early critics to swallow, with many citing unlikeable characters and going so far as to declare that the book ‘ presents such shocking pictures of the worst forms of humanity’ (from ‘Honest people don't hide their deeds.’Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights is a dark and enormously fervent tale of love and obsession. This is not love with lace, frills and flowers, but shorn of all the decorous notions to reveal an intensity more akin to beast than man.It is no surprise that this novel was tough for early critics to swallow, with many citing unlikeable characters and going so far as to declare that the book ‘ presents such shocking pictures of the worst forms of humanity’ (from a review published by The Atlas, found on the wiki article). This is by no means a ‘pleasant’ novel, the atmosphere calls up gothic imagery and emotions with cold, dark, windy nights, gnarled scenery and hushed voices, yet this allows the novel to seize your heart strings and drive you into the madness. The characters are bawdy and cruel, and victims to their raging emotions. The love is passionate and violent and reveals the deep corridors of the heart to be a wild animalistic place.Brontë’s use of language is fantastic. Some of the more powerful statements on love and obsession are to be found within her pages: ‘If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.’ Plus, she employs an interesting narrative technique that sets her apart from her contemporaries. The novel is told through an observer, who is relatively inconsequential to the actions at hand for most of the novel. Through journals and first-hand accounts of those around him, he pieces together a morbid family history. This allows for multiple voices and perspectives, and keeps the story fresh and flowing. There are slight issues, as a majority of the first half of the book is told through the housekeeper, who recounts the past in potent poetic prose, yet speaks plainly in actual speech. Plus one has to believe that she was able to remember word for word all the loquacious speeches and arguments of the characters. However, a little suspension of disbelief isn’t asking much and this technique is used all the time without complaint, plus I’ll believe in anything as long as it keeps the novel functioning well. And this novel functions with the best of them.Wittgenstein’s Mistress points out that much of this book is just people looking through windows. That is totally accurate. This book will look into the window of the human heart and show you the true emotions of love.This novel is a classic, and rightfully so. It is such a shame that it was her only novel, as with a bit more polishing she could have turned out a shiny diamond of a novel. However, it is the unpolished intensity of this torrid affair that really shines brighter than any diamond ever could. 4/5
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  • Fabian
    March 12, 2010
    Believe it or not, not a fan!The story itself is unique & very original, a precursor for many Victorian thrillers and haunted house spectaculars. But there was no engine in my brain to ease down the process; reading this is like reading something that is altogether MANDATORY. I guess its a classic because enough people have read it to distinguish it from better books.The character of Heathcliff is a vampire who sucks the life out of everyone in the household at Wuthering Heights & its ne Believe it or not, not a fan!The story itself is unique & very original, a precursor for many Victorian thrillers and haunted house spectaculars. But there was no engine in my brain to ease down the process; reading this is like reading something that is altogether MANDATORY. I guess its a classic because enough people have read it to distinguish it from better books.The character of Heathcliff is a vampire who sucks the life out of everyone in the household at Wuthering Heights & its neighbors. No doubt a good actor could play the hell out of him and get the Oscar. The work is labyrinthine and sometimes too difficult to understand. It has incredibly unbeautiful sentences (really!) and is altogether irregular-- not a pleasure at all.This, "Catcher in the Rye" and "Great Gatsby" need to vacate the canon.
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  • Whitaker
    April 18, 2012
    My goodness, but doesn’t Emily Brontë get to have her cake and eat it too. On the one hand, the story is underpinned by deeply bourgeois morals; on the other hand, she gets to flirt with wildness and nature. It’s like going on a luxury safari: you get to pretend you’re out in the wild but it’s wilderness with a champagne breakfast and air-conditioned tents. Here you have Heathcliff, right, the stand-in for the forces of nature. And this is nature “red in tooth and claw”, Hearne the Huntsman, the My goodness, but doesn’t Emily Brontë get to have her cake and eat it too. On the one hand, the story is underpinned by deeply bourgeois morals; on the other hand, she gets to flirt with wildness and nature. It’s like going on a luxury safari: you get to pretend you’re out in the wild but it’s wilderness with a champagne breakfast and air-conditioned tents. Here you have Heathcliff, right, the stand-in for the forces of nature. And this is nature “red in tooth and claw”, Hearne the Huntsman, the faery changeling that usurps the place of the son. Like all good faeries, Heathcliff upends the natural order: good is made bad, the low are made high, love is made indistinguishable from hate. He ousts the gentry out of their hearth and home and becomes lord of the manor, and the world is turned topsy-turvy. But in the end, he is defeated. The changeling is ejected, and the land reverts back to the gentry again as both the Grange and Wuthering Heights revert to the care and custody of the Lintons and the Earnshaws. The unity of Catherine and Hindley, the bond of brother and sister that was broken with Heathcliff’s arrival, is restored with the marriage of Hareton Earnshaw and Catherine Linton. Chaos and disorder are cast out, and the rightful order of nature is restored. And how huge a role blood plays in this. You can’t escape your natural destiny: A gentleman will always be a gentleman regardless of how much you try to corrupt him, while the scion of a nameless urchin will be low and nasty regardless of how much gilt he is covered with. You could read the entire Shakespearean canon into this. It's Macbeth, King Lear, The Tempest, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream all rolled into one. And yet, oh, the language! That deep love, and also terror, of the wild harsh beauty of the moors that sings out in her prose despite her eventual return to civilisation! The whole story trembles on this pivot between longing and repulsion. And right to the final word, she never quite resolves it: the ambiguity thrums to the very last. Wow!
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  • Aubrey
    August 7, 2010
    ...I tell you, I have nearly attained my heaven; and that of others is altogether unvalued and uncoveted by me! Perhaps it is because I have my nice and neat two years previous effort staring me in the face, but I find it difficult to settle on a catalyzing shade of feeling for this piece of now. Another possibility is, after reading this first in hate, second in love, third in awe (in all the blissful horror of that ancient word), further explication to myself of the qualities of this work see ...I tell you, I have nearly attained my heaven; and that of others is altogether unvalued and uncoveted by me! Perhaps it is because I have my nice and neat two years previous effort staring me in the face, but I find it difficult to settle on a catalyzing shade of feeling for this piece of now. Another possibility is, after reading this first in hate, second in love, third in awe (in all the blissful horror of that ancient word), further explication to myself of the qualities of this work seems superfluous. There are many, of course, who would disagree, but my interest in convincing others after having been utterly so has waned over the years, filled up with more care for my own development. Besides, this work is a classic. My pleasure at watching it claim that title again, again, and again knows no bounds.The reading populace has such a naive view of what an abusive childhood entails. It takes the nice, comfortable modus operandi of ethics and renders sum zero everything that does not save. Aspects such as gender, skin color, proximity to possible escape routes of the social climbing variety, all become an adaptation at the moment necessity arises. In place of hate there is endurance, in place of friendship there is utilization, in place of love there is solidarity. Adulthood being what it is, the question of one ever "reforming" is rhetorical at best, stigmatized at worst; power being it what it is, it is no wonder most of this work's audience focus on Heathcliff and Catherine rather than Edgar, Mrs. Earnshaw, Hindley. Anyone who faults another for marrying for the sake of money in capitalistic society is a liar and a fool, especially when killing for the sake of the same is so widely accepted.One: Lockwood is an unreliable narrator. Two: Nelly Dean is unreliable in both narrator and character, a pedagogical taste for controlling communication and a devil's advocate romanticism when it comes to other people's lives. Three: Lockwood violated Catherine's confidence by reading her private journal of future planning, and thereby suffers for it. Four: we, the readers, are violating Lockwood's confidnce by reading his private journal of wishful thinking. Five: The second generation lived out the foundered desires of the stronger of the first, and they will be haunted for it.We have violated this text, and we will reap accordingly.I have to wonder what Emily Brontë would have made of the stage. The perspectives, the costs, the interweaving of one's transcribing of another's translation, the brief and inexorable nature of the scenes with their conflicts of duties and susceptibilities and pride, all laid large in the power of their subtle insinuations, their all-is-not-what-it-seems. The might-makes-right democracy of Wuthering Heights, the eugenics deathtrap of Thrushcross Grange, Edgar without Catherine in the face of Heathcliff's son, Heathcliff with Catherine in the face of Hindley's son, Cathy, Catherine, Cathy, more than a name and a pliable soul if the ghosts are anything to go by. The evil that white supremacist patriarchy does, and how it ensures a supply of safe fresh blood.The best part of it all is all we do not know. (view spoiler)[Catherine (hide spoiler)] dies and we do not know. (view spoiler)[Heathcliff (hide spoiler)] dies and we do not know. The wife fulfills her namesake's wish of outliving her husband and earns, what, for these fell-free souls living on a moor of ghosts? Lockwood sees nothing the matter with it, but we know how much trust he deserves, he and his befriended Nelly Dean with her love for silent corpses. ...if you neglect it, you shall prove, practically, that the dead are not annihilated!" ---6/22/13 ReviewNote: I do not usually feel the need to discuss plot points in my reviews, but here it is unavoidable. So, spoilers ahead. You have been warned. Also, this is the best place to mention that this is my second reading, and the first time during high school resulted in a one star. The more you know.Emily Brontë is, depending on her authorial intent, a genius. Of course, gauging the authorial intent of any author is difficult enough even when they are alive, equipped with a bountiful bibliography, and available for interviews. Determining the intent of a woman dead for more than 160 years who left little to no pieces of work beyond that of her only novel is, well. The words 'foolish' and 'near impossible' come to mind, so my pontifications could be wildly off the mark. But if they aren't, then she is indeed, in my mind, a genius.Let us set the stage. Emily Brontë was born in 1818, published Wuthering Heights in 1847, and died in 1848. It is during this 19th century that the 'racialist consciousness' in Europe, birthed during the 16th century in reaction to colonial expansion, achieved its full-fledged form as scientific orthodoxy. Colonial expansion encouraged the use of cheap labor, the cheapest labor available was that of slavery, and those who were conquered and differed in physical characteristics from their conquerors fell victim to a pseudoscientific ideological justification that "biology determines destiny". These trends spread fast in reaction to those muttering that slavery did not follow neither Christianity nor the "rights of man" propounded by the earlier age of Enlightenment, and quickly became subsumed in sociocultural ideologies. It is impossible for Brontë to not have noticed these trends, and direct evidence of observance is embodied in the character of Heathcliff.As much as visual adaptations like to deny, Heathcliff is a person of color, described as a "dark-skinned gypsy in aspect" (a portrayal that was not adhered to till the 2011 production). As soon as he appears in the domicile of the Earnshaws at the age of seven, brought along by a well-meaning and overly earnest father, he is referred to as "gipsy brat", "stupid little thing", and "it". The father may be on his side, and the daughter Catherine may grow to become inseparable from him, but the son who has eight years on him and the secondhand narrator who is old enough to help around the house abuse him constantly, and the mother prefers a blind eye in all matters related to the child. Events continue in this fashion until the father dies soon after the mother, preferring his abusive son to his headstrong daughter and wondering how her "pretended insolence" brought her closer to Heathcliff's heart than his overt kindness.And the son who comes into power in the house? In words written by Catherine: "He has been blaming our father (how dared he?) for treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right place—" In the words of the narrator: ...it was one of their chief amusements to run away to the moors in the morning and remain there all day, and the after punishment grew a mere thing to laugh at. Starvation for Catherine, and a flogging for Heathcliff, day in and day out, framed only by Sundays where Joseph, that "pious discoursing" and "self-righteous pharisee" saw to it to fill their heads with thoughts of blasphemy, death, and hell.I include so much of the beginning because I feel it is necessary to remind those that condemn Heathcliff and wonder at his relationship with Catherine of the childhood they were bequeathed. The events may not excuse him, but they do explain him, and from a character in a novel nothing more can be asked. It must also be mentioned that Heathcliff never reacted with violence to his punishments, but stayed stoic and, in the narrator's words "not vindictive". It is this narrator within a narrator, a housekeeper who has been present at nearly all the major events of Heathcliff's life, that is the true mark of Brontë's genius, seeking as she is to portray a person of color as a fully-developed character that is impossible to pigeonhole as one way or the other. For the narrator is a constant condemner of Heathcliff, as well as anyone who strays outside the boundaries of gender, class, relationships, religion, and above all, 'race'. "Come to the glass, and I'll let you see what you should wish. Do you mark those two lines between your eyes; and those thick brows, that instead of rising arched, sink in the middle; and that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them, like devil's spies? Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes—Don't get the expression of a vicious cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are its deserts, and yet hates all the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.""In other words, I must wish for Edgar Linton's great blue eyes and even forehead," he replied. "I do—and that won't help me to them." In other words, while Brontë often grants the most beautiful phrases and boundless depths of character to Catherine and Heathcliff, she makes sure that the lenses that the reader views them from are from the narrow-minded view of a hypocrite, whose only commentary seeks to negatively portray whomever it happens to land upon. So, what do you get when you combine broken class dynamics that by chance mix and meld into strange and unusual forms, each hating the other with contempt and physical violence, aided along by a narrator with no real love for anyone who refuses to conform to her expectations of gender, and ultimately driven by a man who loves and hates the woman who married another in hopes of supporting the one who shares her soul? All of which happens to have been initiated by a mewling boy who never really grew out from under the shadow of his father favoring a human being that society has deemed to be "lower", and unlike Heathcliff is able for a time to enjoy true happiness with his beloved. Unlike Heathcliff, drowns his sorrows upon her death in drink and attempted destruction of his toddler son, wrecks and ruins his inherited estate to pieces, and yet is held up and pitied by the narrator who deems Heathcliff an "evil genius" who can do no good. A narrator who leaves a seven-month pregnant woman to starve for three days, and whose thoughts towards her are encompassed by: "She's fainted or dead," I thought, "so much the better. Far better that she should be dead, than lingering a burden and a misery-maker to all about her." For what? For being trapped between two worlds that refuse to reconcile with each other and having to cope with it without the aid of drink and fits of fury that being female is supposed to negate? A gentry husband who enjoys the benefits of adhering to the standards of beauty and intelligence determined by upper class society, a hardened soul mate who scorns those weak and spoiled productions of 'civilization' and would rather roam the moors full of knowledge of one's damnation and reveling in it so long as that one person is there by their side? A husband who seeks to keep the lines of bigotry pure through ignorance and the building of white towers, and a soul mate who aims to "demolish the two houses" through the manipulation of descendants whose faces are physical reminders of the ones who tortured his body and twisted his mind, as well as the one who may be gone yet still retains a firm grasp on his very essence? And yet, for all Heathcliff's wrathful machinations of revenge in the face of a world that condemned him for being born, despite his rejection of a god that equates the light with good and the dark with evil and his ploys to play the violent self-efficiency of one descendant off of the prejudiced self-assurance of another, his bloodline ends with a redemption that would have been impossible had the former tragedies been avoided. For through days of ignorance, threats, and fervent loathing, came the slow cracking along lines of former bigotry, bringing one who loved Heathcliff and his wild prowess to rest with one courageous enough to try and understand the man behind the mask woven by general society. No thanks to the narrator, of course, who knew so many sides of the story and favored scolding over explanation, and in fact directly contributed to the horrible chain of events that largely occurred out of misunderstandings acting along trenches of prejudice.Let me make one thing clear. I wouldn't know romantic passion if it hit me over the head with a two-by-four. However, there are some things I do know; the struggle of the individual against the baseless ideology, the search to find the one who embraces them beyond the boundaries of said ideologies, the prejudice of those who conform to said ideologies, the agonies of childhood working their way out physically and psychologically throughout adulthood, the great range of feeling encompassed within human relationships that when intensified doesn't necessarily only intensify one side of the spectrum. The trickiness of narrators, who paint a picture and will often, if you're careful, tell you more about themselves than the image. And finally, the beauty rendered by words of landscapes untouched by the best laid schemes of mice and men, ones I may not have seen but can enjoy in their fullest form nonetheless: He said the pleasantest manner of spending a hot July day was lying from morning till evening on a bank of heath in the middle of the moors, with the bees humming dreamily about among the bloom, and the larks singing high up over head, and the blue sky and bright sun shining steadily and cloudlessly. That was his most perfect idea of heaven's happiness—mine was rocking in a rustling green tree, with the west wind blowing, and bright, white clouds flitting rapidly above; and not only larks, but throstles, and blackbirds, and linnets, and cuckoos pouring out music on every side, and the moors seen at a distance, broken into cool dusky dells; but close by, great swells of long grass undulating in waves to the breeze; and woods and sounding water, and the whole world awake and wild with joy. He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle, and dance in a glorious jubilee. Yes. That, I know. My hopes are that Brontë knew it, too.
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  • Ahmad Sharabiani
    June 8, 2008
    902. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontëبلندیهای بادگیر (عشق هرگز نمیمیرد) - امیلی برونته (نگاه ، جامی) ادبیات این کتاب در سال 1847 میلادی منتشر شدعنوانها: تندباد حوادث یا ووترینگ هایتز؛ بلندیهای بادخیز؛ بلندیهای بادخیز (وودرینگ هایتز)؛ بلندیهای بادگیر؛ بلندیهای بادگیر (وادرینگ هایتز)؛ بلندیهای بادگیر (عشق هرگز نمیمیرد)؛بلندیهای بادگیر (وادرینگ هایتس)؛ بلندیهای بادگیر یا عشق هرگز نمیمیرد؛ به رزاییه کانی بهربا؛ عشق هرگز نمیمیرد؛ عشق هرگز نمیمیرد (بلندیهای بادگیر)؛ واترینگ هایتز؛ بلندیهای بادگیر (تا ا 902. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontëبلندیهای بادگیر (عشق هرگز نمیمیرد) - امیلی برونته (نگاه ، جامی) ادبیات این کتاب در سال 1847 میلادی منتشر شدعنوانها: تندباد حوادث یا ووترینگ هایتز؛ بلندیهای بادخیز؛ بلندیهای بادخیز (وودرینگ هایتز)؛ بلندیهای بادگیر؛ بلندیهای بادگیر (وادرینگ هایتز)؛ بلندیهای بادگیر (عشق هرگز نمیمیرد)؛بلندیهای بادگیر (وادرینگ هایتس)؛ بلندیهای بادگیر یا عشق هرگز نمیمیرد؛ به رزاییه کانی به‌ربا؛ عشق هرگز نمیمیرد؛ عشق هرگز نمیمیرد (بلندیهای بادگیر)؛ واترینگ هایتز؛ بلندیهای بادگیر (تا انتهای پر رنج عشق)؛ عشق هرگز نمیمیرد (بلندیهای بادخیز)؛ هر یک از عنوانهای بالا بارها به زیور طبغ آراسته شده اند، البته که با کوشش مترجمین و دیگران. اثر امیلی برونته، شاعر و نویسنده ی انگلیسی که بارها توسط مترجمهای نام آشنا: عبدالعظیم صبوری - در 299 ص، در سال 1334، ولی الله ابراهیمی در سال 1348، داریوش شاهین؛ علی اصغر بهرام بیگی، پرویز پژواک؛ رباب امام، تهمینه مهربانی، حمید اکبری و زهرا احمدیان، فرزانه قلیزاده، نعیمه ظاهری، مریم صادقی؛ اکرم مظفری، فاطمه امینی، شادی ابطحی، فریده قراچه داغی (صمیمی)؛ مهدی سجودی مقدم، رضا رضایی، و نوشین ابراهیمی، مهدی غبرائی، هادی ریاضی، سمیه امانی و شهرام قوامی؛ ترجمه و منتشر شده استوادِرینگ هایتس در این داستان نام عمارت خانوادگی ارنشاو است؛ و به معنی خانه ای ست که روی تپه و در معرض باد ساخته شده است. داستان عشق آتشین و مشکل‌دار، میان هیث کلیف و کترین (کاترین) ارنشاو، و این‌که همین عشق نافرجام، چگونه سرانجام این دو عاشق و بسیاری از اطرافیانشان را به نابودی می‌کشاند. هیث کلیف کولی‌زاده‌ ای ست که موفق به ازدواج با کاترین نمی‌شود، و پس از مرگ کاترین به انتقام‌ روی می‌آوردا. شربیانی
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  • Apatt
    January 26, 2014
    “Bad dreams in the nightThey told me I was going to lose the fightLeave behind my wuthering, wutheringWuthering Heights” Kate Bush Quoting a pop song’s lyrics is not a terribly literary way of starting a classics book review but I considered going with “Man! That was awesome!” but decided a shout out to Kate Bush may be the better option. Besides, I first heard of this book when Kate Bush burst upon the scene with this eccentric #1 hit. The lady is a genius, as was Emily Brontë.Often mistaken “Bad dreams in the nightThey told me I was going to lose the fightLeave behind my wuthering, wutheringWuthering Heights” Kate Bush Quoting a pop song’s lyrics is not a terribly literary way of starting a classics book review but I considered going with “Man! That was awesome!” but decided a shout out to Kate Bush may be the better option. Besides, I first heard of this book when Kate Bush burst upon the scene with this eccentric #1 hit. The lady is a genius, as was Emily Brontë.Often mistaken for a great romantic epic, mostly by people who have not read it, Wuthering Heights is a book so dark it is probably best read in braille. I think it is about as romantic as a poke in the eye. It is rightly considered a gothic classic due to its dark brooding gothic atmosphere and supernatural undertone. More importantly, it is a fairly horrifying tale of obsessive love and revenge.Wuthering Heights book sculpture by AnemyaPhotoCreationsI have seen a few online discussions where the forum members hated it when they were assigned to read it in school, and the hatred continues to this day. I don’t know if I would have hated it if I was made to read it in school, but reading it now I find it riveting. My fascination with this book lies with the characterization of Heathcliff. Obviously, he wants revenge against all and sundry, most of whom have never actually done him any harm, they just happen to be related to people who pissed him off.Heathcliff seems to spend all his time putting into action his elaborate schemes of revenge. He does not seem to want to do anything with his life except inflicting psychological torture on his wife (poor blameless Isabella), his son (a whining Bieber-like teenager), Catherine Jr. (I tagged on the Jr to distinguish her from her mother who is the love of Heathcliff’s life), and numerous other people. If revenge is a dish best served cold, cucumber sandwiches are probably his favorite food.The supernatural parts in Wuthering Heights are quite discrete, ghosts seem to appear but they are ambiguously presented as either actual manifestations or stuff of dreams or hallucinations. The eponymous farmhouse Wuthering Heights is also imbued with its own character, a perpetually gloomy, miserable and disquieting place. In any case, the misery of Wuthering Heights is not of the sort of you would find in a Thomas Hardy novel, as there is a subtly spooky feel to the book to balance it out. Besides, the mood does lighten up noticeably toward the end. Interestingly this book is often compared to Jane Eyre by the author's sister Charlotte Brontë, both have gothic elements to them though Jane Eyre is not nearly so dark. I could not say which book is better or which one I like more, both are fantastic.I can heartily recommend Wuthering Heights if you don’t go into it with an inflexible expectation of what you want it to be about. It is complex, disturbing yet quite an accessible and strangely entertaining read. As with most classics that I read, I opted for an audiobook version. This one I obtained free from the wonderful Librivox, read with consummate skill by Ruth Golding who reminds me of Maggie Smith, sometime austere, sometime motherly. The many voices she acts out for each character is amazing, especially considering that Librivox books are all read for free by volunteers. Some Librivox books are better read than others but as far as this one is concerned there is not much point in shelling out for a “professionally read” version from Audible.com.Notes• Have a look at this video "Top 10 Notes: Wuthering Heights" for a great summary of Wuthering Heights that will enable you to talk knowledgeably about the book even if you have no intention of reading it!• For a hilarious recap and analysis of Wuthering Height have a look at this "Thug Notes" Youtube review. Now that's edutainment!
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