Wuthering Heights (Penguin Classics)

Wow, what a classic indeed.
Things I wish I'd known before reading:
- this is not a romance, it's a damn tragedy
- the narrator is some random dude that has nothing to do with anything
- it frequently switches timeframes (sometimes without warning) and can turn from a retelling to a retelling of a retelling so that gets a bit confusing trying to parse out who's point of view you are supposedly hearing from
- heathcliff and Catherine's "love story" only accounts for about half of the book
- it's super depressing and you pretty much hate all the characters

Language was tough to follow. POV changed often and was hard to follow. Lengthy, but worth it.

Difficult but worth it

The first time I read Wuthering Heights, I was under 7 years old. An image stayed with me—drawn in all shades of gray: heated dialogues between lovers and an overwhelming sense of cold.

When I reread the book, I expected outbursts of passion and duels to the death. Instead, I found passions, hatreds, loves, friendships, and revenge simmering slowly yet steadily, gaining depth with the passing seasons and years.

While reading, I often asked myself: Are scoundrels born or made? Could a wolf cub grow benevolent under a different destiny? Or is it always doomed by its nature? Personally, I don’t believe in determinism. I think the environment can make the path to a virtuous life easier or harder, but it doesn’t decide our fate. Hareton Earnshaw’s rough upbringing may have concealed his noble nature, but it didn’t destroy it. On the other hand, would Linton Heathcliff’s story have been different if he had been raised at Thrushcross Grange? Or, as Ellen suggests, would a better environment have only encouraged and amplified his flaws?

For me, Wuthering Heights is a story of redemption—not for the characters themselves (Heathcliff or Catherine never sought it)—but for the two families. Their story is redeemed and purified through the love of their descendants. The love between Cathy and Hareton is like a green shoot, a symbol of hope and new beginnings. Life redeems itself.

Emily Brontë’s narrative is wonderfully intelligent. Her use of two narrators adds depth and perspective to the story. Without relying on elaborate literary devices, her descriptions are vivid, detailed, and emotional. I can still feel the desolation of the gloomy sitting room at Wuthering Heights during Lockwood’s first visit—with its dogs lying in the corners and its hanging cured hams. It seems impossible that a sensitive soul could survive there.

For all these reasons, Wuthering Heights has rightfully earned its place as a literature classic. It offers profound insights into human nature and is well worth reading. Both the story and its author deserve to be celebrated.

Harrowing