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Monday, May 25, 2015


Just Finished Reading: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (FP: 1848)

When their father tells the Earnshaw children that he is going to Liverpool they inevitably clamour for gifts. Smiling down at them he promises to bring them both something back. On his return three days later he reveals something that neither of them expected – a ragged street urchin, a barely human boy he calls Heathcliffe. Hindley took an instant dislike to the boy but his sister Cathy at first saw a kindred spirit and then realised that Heathcliffe was more than that. They were not twin souls bound together by some mysterious force, they were not even two halves of the same soul finally reunited, they were the exact same soul inhabiting two separate bodies and they loved each other as they would love their own selves. But Cathy was wilful, wild and in need of more than poor Heathcliffe could ever offer her. Dazzled by the seeming wealth of her neighbour Edgar Linton she agreed to his proposal of marriage forever severing her future from that of Heathcliffe. Unable to take her ultimate betrayal he leaves Wuthering Heights in the company of Edgar’s sister Isabella. So starts a chain of events that will destroy all of those involved in Heathcliffe’s humiliation. Vowing to destroy the Linton legacy Heathcliffe uses all of his still to bring about their downfall in revenge for what Cathy has done to him.


I tried to read this in my 20’s and failed after about 20 pages. On re-reading it in my 50’s I can see why. The first few chapters are all over the place, drop you about two thirds into the story and are told from several different viewpoints. I really had to struggle and grit my teeth to get through that part expecting that things would settle down later. They did and the rest of the story was largely told in ‘flashback’ from the point of view of Cathy’s and Cathy’s daughters’ maid. So far so good I thought. Although things became more readable from that point on I can honestly say that my enjoyment of this classic did not. For one thing I didn’t think that the writing was particularly impressive. Emily Bronte is certainly no Jane Austen (I understand that the Bronte’s didn’t think much of Austen and her lack of passion. I imagine that Austen wouldn’t think much of the Bronte’s because of their poorly constructed novels). For another thing I really couldn’t like any of the characters involved. How Heathcliffe can be a romantic icon is beyond me. At best he was a pig and at worst a truly evil man (and I don’t use the word evil lightly). If his life had been investigated by today’s police force he’d definitely be arrested, definitely convicted and would have probably spent a considerable amount of time behind bars for what he did. OK, he was passionate to the point of insanity but is that really a good thing? Anger management is the least of it I think! As to Cathy, OK she was a free spirit, a wild child also full of passion but she was also a fool and a magpie who only thought of he own comfort and self-interest. Edgar was a fool in a different way who allowed his legacy to be destroyed because he didn’t have the balls to do anything about it. No wonder Cathy hated him for it – for not being Heathcliffe.


As you can tell I was seriously unimpressed by this book. It’s not that it was just a classic romance and I’m really not that kind of person. I’ve read classic romances before. Some of them are downright excellent. Even her sister’s novel Jane Eyre was better than this. Much more structured, with better characters that you could actually relate to and even like. If Heathcliffe had really existed in those times I’d imagine that someone would have shot him long before he died of natural causes. I think I’ll be sticking with classic adventure novels in future. I think I’ll be on safer ground there and may actually enjoy them rather than rage against them. Wish me luck.

[2015 Reading Challenge: A book written by someone under 30 – COMPLETE (16/50)]

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