If the covers above and the title of this post aren't a clear enough indication, then Wuthering Heights is the novel I am talking about: Emily Brontë's wild and passionate masterpiece... and believe me, I don't use the term "masterpiece" lightly. Normally people can't understand this, but even thinking about this book evokes strong feelings within me, and causes my eyes to well up; each time I re-read the final paragraph, or any of Cathy's speeches about Heathcliff, I burst into tears.
"I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth."I cannot comprehend how beautiful, albeit brutal, this novel is – I simply can't! These two characters are not simply in love, no, that's too light, too fluffy, too romantic... the connection between these two characters is more than that. As a reader you begin to understand that their love is just necessary, in the immortal words of Cathy: “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
But I'm not here to analyse the novel – no, I'll save that for another time – but I'm here to make a point. As the title suggests, I genuinely want to persuade at least one person to pick up this classic; it's gorgeously gothic, the moors being the being the perfect setting for such a grim love story; the romantic love interest is so brutal and unorthodox, at one point described as "only half a man"; and it's a classic that is a classic for a reason: it makes the reader feel something. I don't know what else I can do now other than bombard you with quotations!
“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.”Perhaps the idea of reading such a famous classic is daunting, but believe me when I say it's definitely one you can't miss out on. You simply just can't. Note: on another topic, I'm receiving the shortlist of the Man Booker prize for review and I'm ecstatic... they all sound brilliant!
“Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe--I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”
“I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.”
“My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Healthcliff! 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.”