I’m really not sure where to start, all I know is that all I really want to do right now is curl up into a tight little ball, and allow myself a nice leisurely cry.
But instead,I will sit here, taping away at the keys, and try to process my thoughts.
I didn’t know what I was getting into when I began to read Emily Bronte’s ‘Wuthering Heights‘. All I knew was that when it comes to this classic novel there are only two places you can be. At either end of the spectrum. Simply put, you will either love this novel, or hate it.
I am of the former.
After a rocky start of trying to get into the first few chapters, I thought that this novel just wasn’t for me. The dialect of one of the characters, Joseph, is quite a struggle to digest, and the characters are truly horrendous.
However, around chapter four, I became hooked.
I dreaded putting this novel down, yet at the same time, I dreaded picking the novel up because I knew it would ignite in me a passion that I wasn’t used to, and didn’t know how to add it to my daily life.
Often times I read a novel and I am fine with putting it down to go about my day as needed. Wuthering Heights, however, did not allow me to do that.
There were some days where I knew I wasn’t in the head space to allow myself to get deep in this novel, like it deserves, and really, needs to be, read.
I originally had no clue what the story was about, other than hearing that it was known as an epic romance.
I still don’t know whether I can call it an epic romance. What I can call it is a tumultuous, irrational, undying and above all, malicious love. One that, hopefully, most people will never experience.
The two main characters, Catherine and Heathcliff, are detestable creatures who are more than happy to be selfish, self-absorbed, and ignite pain on those around them. Any negative quality that you can think of, can be used to describe them.
The way they destroy the lives of any within their grasp, all due to their love for each other, causes grief and heartbreak. “I am Heathcliff!” Cathy is quick to cry. They are in love because they believe themselves to be identical. And really, I think they are.
I don’t want to spoil this story by saying too much, but what I will say that though this novel may not be too long, it is a very large story in itself.
I can understand why it was met with such negative reviews when it came out (in 1847). Nobody could understand how a 29 year old woman who was a spinster could imagine up such hateful characters. Every character in this novel suffered serious abuse from the hands of one or another character. It was a lot to imagine for a woman who, seemingly, suffered no forms of abuse in her lifetime.
This novel made me think, and feel more than I had wanted to. But really, isn’t that the kind of novel we want to read? The kind that will remain in our minds forever?
I already can’t wait to wait a few years and then re-read this. It is the type of novel that I believe will change with you, as you age and mature in different ways, it will age and mature with you, and always offer you up something different.
If I leave you with one thing from this post, it is to please, challenge yourself. Read Wuthering Heights, and discover something you never thought you would.
Now I’m off to cry because I’m finished this novel.
I simply cannot wait to read it again.