Okay, maybe not 18, but that's how old Kate Bush was when she wrote her song of the same name, and I'm trying to make a point here.
I imagine if I had read Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights as a teenager, obsessed with moody boys and Chuck and Blair's relationship from Gossip Girl, I would have romanticised the hell out of Cathy and Heathcliff. But when reading about their twisted love as an adult it is hard to look past all the toxicity. The key to enjoying this book as a whole is putting any ideas of healthy relationships aside and going in with an open mind. You have to believe that ghosts are real, and understand that if you ask your dad to bring you back a gift from his trip to Liverpool, he will return with an orphan.
One of the main criticisms I've heard about this book is that there is no one to root for, that everyone is unlikable and irredeemably immoral. But I think that Brontë illustrates to us exactly why her characters behave the way they do. Each of them are the result of their circumstance and upbringing, the events of which mould them into the people they are. Apart from Hindley, who is a little shit for the sake of it, I found myself reading each character with a level of understanding, rather than unwavering frustration. Heathcliff's vengeance seems somewhat inevitable considering he is treated so poorly as a child. We can't help but mourn for him when Cathy, the one person that makes him feel special choses somebody else. At times Cathy's behaviour is a little harder to excuse, it is seemingly just in her blood, but I can't help but like her because I am a sucker for an anarchistic woman.
Like many first time readers of Wuthering Heights I was surprised to find that it is told from the perspective of two side characters, Nelly and Mr. Lockwood. Make no mistake, this is a Nelly Dean appreciation page, but its hard not to feel somewhat disconnected from the narrative when its told (mostly) through her retelling. She is very much involved in the novel's events, but there is only so much depth she can access when it comes to Heathcliff and Cathy, leaving gaps in our understanding of their relationship. At times this works in the novel's favour, as their rare moments of tenderness are made all the more beautiful. Lines like, “he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same” would quickly become melodramatic if they were on every other page, but their scarcity grants them authenticity.
The humanity of these lines add depth to our otherwise heartless main characters. They are both abusive and cruel, but their love for each other is undeniable, even if complex. Heathcliff's desire for Cathy to haunt him, and her obliging, is indicative of the way their relationship works. It is all consuming and entirely unwavering. Whatever their souls are made of is dark and twisted, but there is something beautiful about their kinship. The idea of the two being finally united in death is divine, an ending as tortured and poetic as they deserve.
Aside from the beautifully tragic lines about love and pining, my favourite thing about Brontë's writing was her absolutely delicious use of insults. "Hatless little savage", "saucy witch" and "wicked slut" to name a few of the best bits. It always feels like a little treat to find unexpectedly colourful language in a piece of classic literature.
Having said all of that, I'm still not totally sure how I feel about Wuthering Heights overall. A sign of something being worth your time is that it keeps you thinking about it long after it's ended, which I have been. I'm going to watch every adaptation I can find and maybe that'll help me draw some more concrete conclusions.
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