Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
4 out of 5 stars.
It is with a prowess unachievable by many authors that Emily Brontë stunned me with her novel 'Wuthering Heights'. Perhaps more so than her writing, it was her characters Catherine Earnshaw, and later Catherine Linton, who both captured my heart.
In the remote Yorkshire moors of late 18th century England lies two dwellings: the gloomy Wuthering Heights and rather grand Thrushcross Grange, inhabited by two familes, respectively the Earnshaws and Lintons. However this is not where our story begins. Emily Brontë commences in the year 1801 as we follow Thrushcross Grange's new tenant who, when obliged to stay the night in Wuthering Heights, makes discoveries of a mysterious and yet compelling nature. Here he meets Ellen Gray, previous housekeeper of both homes, and she commences her tale; diving back through the years and about to tell the most fantastic story yet to be heard.
It was Brontë's ability to manipulate space and time in order to create a 'story within a story' that first established a certain level of appraisal for this work within me. Although it's beginning was confusing and lacked aid in terms of establishing character names; 'Wuthering Heights' had already immersed itself into my heart and brain.
And I say my "brain", because it is a novel that before anything else, makes you realize the power of literature. Emily Brontë was courageous enough to present issues of feminism stronger than many had dared approach in her time. This could explain 'Wuthering Height''s lack of popularity upon its release; critcs condemning it as "shocking" have now turned the other way, determining it as a work of "intrinsic excellence". The two Catherines Brontë creates could be representative of our 21st century way of thought, both of them being independent in mind and strong in character. Throughout the novel, Brontë's female characters present themselves as iconic feminist figures, but they are also rash, radical, and the slightest bit romantic: "I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free..."
I especially connected with Catherine Earnshaw's tormented anger, and found there to be a passionate drive in Brontë's writing whenever she spoke of it: "Why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words?" or, "Tossing about, she increased her feverish bewilderments to madness, and tore the pillow with her teeth." It was an interesting contrast to make with the at times 'innocent' Catherine; infantile in her love and reminiscent of her childhood past.
However, considering the great love I developped for most of the characters in this novel, I could simply not stand its one and primary figure. I detested Heathcliff, and contrary to what some other readers have mentioned, I could not muster a single ounce of pity or sympathy for him. Heathcliff is perhaps the most cold-hearted, conceited, and con artist character to figure in literature. He continuously lies and does not shy away from hurting others: he beats children, locks a woman up in his home, leaves his son to die rather than seek medical help, and hangs a dog, to name a few. Brontë's character Isabella Linton (later Earnshaw) provided me with the exact words I wish to describe Heathcliff by: "Is Mr Heathcliff a man? If so, is he mad? And if not, is he a devil?"
'Wuthering Heights' has proven itself to offer many a thing: It brought to me an abiding fascination with its story of trascendent love that managed to surpass the bounds of authority, mundanity, and even death. Nonetheless, it was also the authority, mundanity, and death in themselves that fascinated me: therefore proving 'Wuthering Heights' to be a work layered by complex elements, and able to empower all who reads it: "He wanted all to lie in an ecstacy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle, and dance in glorious jubilee."
