Wuthering Heights

 

"It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff, now; so he shall never know how I love him...he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" (59).

On my journey through the classics, few have disappointed me. I have found most of them, both the ones that I remember from my academic career and those that I do not, to be impactful and also (shockingly) rather likable as well. However, there are a group of outliers. Wuthering Heights seems to be one of those classics in which I can see the reasoning behind its endurance as an important piece of literature, but I also question the sanity of readers who laud it as enduringly admirable and exemplary. I can't say that I hated the book, but at the same time, I would prefer to never read it again. 

I was never assigned Wuthering Heights as a student, so I don't have the benefit of prior engagement with the text to influence my opinion on it. Perhaps there are pros to this approach, as I was able to come in without any expectations, which is relatively rare for many of these novels. The main analytical feedback that I have seen or heard has to do with the promotion of Heathcliff and Catherine's romance, as proof that they exemplify some ideal relationship. All I have to say in response to those who think this way is, Have you read the book?? The Pinterest posts of quotes indicating that this couple have any qualities worth imitating hit so differently now that I have read their context.

1. "Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then" (124)!

Romanticizing unhealthy relationships. Let's just get right into the meat of my issues with this novel. I often refer to what I have termed "The Notebook Effect" when discussing the problems with modern iterations of romantic relationships. The crux of this phenomenon is the glorification of poor behavior or toxicity, from the perspective that the relationship is somehow more passionate or meaningful for being codependent and emotionally unhinged. In The Notebook, the main characters are portrayed as constantly fighting, verbally and sometimes physically abusive, and complete opposites in terms of upbringing and life goals. When the female love interest cheats on her fiancé (who happens to be a stable, mature, and tragically boring individual), the act is exonerated as a necessary return to the man with whom she was always destined to end up.

I will perhaps have to adjust my vernacular to now include "The Wuthering Heights Effect," as this novel is just as bad. The whole plot is full of selfish and harmful choices compounding on one another while the main characters escape culpability for their actions because they are supposedly in love. Isn't it romantic how, even when married to other people, the couple finds a way back to each other? Isn't it meaningful that they portray extremely selfish and borderline narcissistic personalities, but yet still cling to a codependent and boundary-less relationship? Don't you want to imitate an emotional attachment that endures beyond the grave, to the extent that the living parties suffer within an all-consuming obsession until they themselves perish?

Um...no?

Why does the culture promote these types of relationships? Maybe it's because they make more money in media, whether written or filmed, than the healthy and normal alternative. Regardless, I find them increasingly frustrating to observe.

2. "...it is some devil that urges me to thwart my own schemes by killing him--you fight against that devil, for love, as long as you may; when the time comes, not all the angels in heaven shall save him" (103)!

"Victim of circumstances" mentality. Here is a continuation of the prior point. Wuthering Heights is narrated by the housekeeper as she relays the story of her employers to a man who has rented one of the adjacent houses. Thus, we have an unreliable source who gives her own opinion on situations as readily as the actual facts. I like this perspective for two reasons: the choice highlights a sense of mystery and strangeness as though we are also outsiders looking into the story, not able to fully understand or interfere, and it also provides an interesting bias that adds layers to the character and plot development.

Though I may appreciate the narrative choice as a thematic element, I do not enjoy the resulting morals revealed to the reader. It would seem that the author is trying to help the reader to empathize with the characters, even as they make questionable and even murderous decisions throughout. Ellen, the housekeeper, continually makes excuses for nearly everyone, even when she still condemns their actions. Heathcliff is abusive and violent because he was mistreated as a child, Catherine is selfish and vindictive because of her ethereal spirit and mistreatment as a child, Linton is verbally cruel and self-obsessed because he is physically ill and mistreated (you guessed it) as a child.

At what point do we start holding people accountable for their actions, regardless of whether or not they were disadvantaged by some situation out of their control? Even though Ellen does openly criticize and lament the behaviors of those around her, they are so consistently shown in light of their treatment by others that the resulting actions are painted as almost inevitable. The book seems to be saying: Yes, it is wrong to be cruel, narcissistic, and deceitful, but people are always the result of their environments and can't necessarily be held fully responsible. 

3. "I...listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth" (248).

Literary value. I do believe, despite my dislike for the general characterization and underlying moral values of the text, that there is literary value in the writing. The historical context, turbulent characters, and artistic composition all speak to the talent of the author. Emily Brontë's critics and readers were convinced that the writer must be a man, as the subject matter was considered too intense and crude to have come from the delicate mind of a woman. Clearly, she was not afraid to write on darker and more sinister topics that belied resistance from her contemporaries. These aspects I respect greatly, and this novel being the lone publication of her short life, it is all the more worthy of analysis to determine the impetus of the different literary elements.

Do I consider this a profound and important piece of British literature? Yes. Wuthering Heights certainly provides the grounds for some very interesting conversations about characterization and the psychology of anti-heroes. I'm not sure that I will be treading through its pages any time soon, but I do consider the time well-spent, even though my general dislike for the novel is (I'm guessing) abundantly clear. Read it if you are curious, but otherwise, I believe there are other novels that achieve the same effect with less frustrating techniques.