I never expected this book to be as flagrantly, unforgivably bad as it was.

To start with, Bronte's technical choice of narrating the story of the primary characters by having the housekeeper explain everything to a tenant 20 years after it happened completely kills the suspense and intimacy. At best, one could say that to some extent this functions as a device to help shroud the story and motives from the reader. However, at that time, literary technique hadn't quite always accepted that omnipotent 3rd person narrators were allowed. So, instead, you had to have a multi-perspective story told by an omnipotent 3rd person narrator who was actually a character in the story, like the housekeeper Ellen. The layers of perspective make it annoying and sometimes even impossible to figure out who is telling which part of the story. Moreover, since so much is related as two characters explaining things to each other, the result is that we rarely see any action. Instead, the entire book is explained in a Socratic, pedantic exposition.

The sense of place is poorly rendered and almost entirely missing. Sure, the moor is gray, but that's about it.

Ultimately, the most damning thing is that the characters are a bunch of immature, insufferable, narcissistic assholes with very little self-respect. This isn't a story of great love and passion. It's the story of how child abuse perpetuates itself through the generations. The characters are either emotionally abused as children or, like Cathy I, they're spoiled and overindulged with no discipline and can't muster the restraint and self-respect to leave abusive relationships. I kept waiting for any of the characters to be remotely worth my time, but I found no respite from the brutish abuse of the horribly twisted Heathcliff or from the simpering idiocy of Cathy I and II. Ugh. Not only are there no transformations or growth, but the characters aren't even that likable to begin with. How this book got to be a classic is truly beyond me.

If you firmly believe that spitefulness holds a certain allure and is romantic, and that the spectacle of people self-destructively ruining their lives is highly dramatic and captivating, then by all means, feel free to pick up and read this book. However, I must stress that I have given you this forewarning. Proceed with caution, for you may find that the contents within do not align with your initial expectations. The story may unfold in ways that are far more complex and perhaps even disturbing than you anticipated. You might witness the consequences of actions taken out of spite, and the downward spiral that individuals embark upon as they destroy their own lives. So, before delving into this book, truly consider whether you are prepared to face the harsh realities and emotions that it may present.

Vastly overrated hysterical nonsense.

One can't help but think that there is potentially a good novel hidden within these pages. A more seasoned writer might have been able to bring it to life more effectively. There are elements of the Gothic genre that could have been delved into further, and characters who deserved more in-depth development. The only truly believable character is the narrator, Nellie Dean. And what about the world outside the two houses and their self-obsessed inhabitants? It's never even mentioned. Not to mention the incredibly convoluted time shifts and the unnecessary flashback structure that only serve to detract from the plot. Keeping track of three generations of similarly named characters is already a challenge; all those Haretons, Hindleys, and Heathcliff. (One can't help but wonder if Emily was disappointed in love, perhaps let down by a suitor named H______ just as Jane Austen had been by her W______? But I digress.) This so-called "mastery of an extremely complex structure" that some critics rave about seems extremely amateurish to me. Every now and then, the author remembers that the narrator is a real character and abruptly breaks off at a random moment to bring the reader back to the present. It's irritating.

I find myself constantly wondering why this novel attracts so much adoration from modern readers. Is it simply because it's the only novel by the middle Brontë sister? The one who died tragically young? Or has it just been caught up in all the hype surrounding Haworth? When compared to the wide range of other 19th-century writers, I find all three Brontë sisters lacking. And Emily seems by far the weakest. In fact, I've long suspected that the existence of the Parsonage at Haworth and many of their childhood artefacts might be almost entirely responsible for captivating the public's imagination.

Maybe a lot of the self-absorption of the writers and their characters can be blamed on the fact that the Brontë's water supply ran through the graveyard. That alone must be enough to make anyone feel queasy and overly emotional. "Cathy" definitely needed a good shaking. In fact, most of the characters' agonizing might have miraculously vanished if they'd only had something meaningful to do! (Now I'm revealing my Yorkshire Protestant Work Ethic roots...)

Every decade or so, I've taken this book down from the shelf, hoping to give it another chance. But never again. It has now been relegated forever to someone else's collection. May they find joy in it. For me, it remains the most overrated classic of all time.

"All I care about in this goddamn life are me, my drums, and you." This quote, while perhaps a bit hyper-earnest and cheesy, is in its own way a form of romance. However, "Wuthering Heights" is something far more complex and dangerous than simple romance. It's a long, drawn-out tale of retaliation masquerading as passion, and I absolutely love it. I can't believe I haven't reviewed it before. I mention this book in more than half of my reviews, and I even have a whole shelf dedicated to its retellings. So why the delay? Well, better late than never.

No, it's not a perfect novel. The structure is flawed, revealing the actions of seriously flawed people. The framing device within a framing device is rather awkward, and having Nelly Dean tell the story when she wasn't present for most of the action was a misstep by Bronte. It makes the beginning a bit of a slog to get through. But that's just the stale loaf. The good stuff lies in the meat in between.

And oh, the meat! The swarthy stranger of mysterious origins being raised in a family of sheltered, overmoist English mushrooms. The running wild, the two-souls-against-the-world adolescence, the childhood indiscretions, the vows and tantrums, the bonding, the unspoken promises. "Yes I will, yes I will, yes I will." But then, what's this? It's blond, rich, and what's expected of her. So she leaves Heathcliff. From here on out, it's textbook gothic: revenge-seduction, overheard conversations, mysterious disappearances, murdered puppies, swooning, vindictive child-rearing, death, ghosts, and moors.

But to me, this is a perfect love story, even though it's more like torture. The unattainable is always more romantic than the storybook. I don't like an uncomplicated ending, and a story is more impactful with nuanced characters, preferably heavily unlikeable throughout. This story just makes me feel good. And I'm well over my teenage fascination with the "bad boy." I realized pretty quickly that "bad boys" are usually pretty dumb. So I moved on to "emotionally disturbed," which is really the same thing. There's plenty of drama, and they might leave you drunken "presents" on your lawn (like road signs or carousel ponies), but at least they're not complete burnouts. But my teenaged dating pool aside, the point is that Heathcliff can be romanticized as this victim/villain without having to conform to the ideal. It's about the level of passion and the size of the grand romantic gesture. Devoting your life to destroying the people who kept you from your true love is an amazingly grand gesture.

Come to my blog!

5 tormenting and passionate stars for a reading experience like no other. Never have I read a book that altered my emotions so many times within its pages. My feelings ebbed and flowed in waves between compassion and despair, admiration and loathing, pity and always regret. Victims or tormentors – that's for you to decide.

For me, Wuthering Heights is an epic and timeless classic that encompasses everything. It has obsession, greed, revenge, grief, emotional abuse, inequality, and even a touch of light horror. However, in my opinion, it is not a traditional love story. It is the most beautiful love story that never truly happened, and therein lies the tragedy and power of this book.

It is a sobering waste of life and love. The cruelty and selfishness of the characters shape their own story against the backdrop of a rigid and intolerant class system that almost predestined their fates. Yet, the unbreakable bond between the two main characters compels them to pursue each other, always too late. The haunting realization is that this self-destruction is set to continue into the next generation, as the sins of the parents threaten to be passed on through the children with the same cruelty and brutality.

The plot is captivating. Heathcliff becomes part of the Earnshaw family at Thrushcross Grange when Mr. Earnshaw takes the orphaned boy home. Accepted by Cathy but bullied by Hindley, Heathcliff's early life is sad and pitiful. His obsession with Cathy grows, and his life is turned upside down when Cathy chooses wealth over love and marries Linton. Overhearing Cathy's admission that he will never be a man of means, Heathcliff flees and only returns when he has amassed a fortune. What he didn't hear was Cathy professing her unwavering love for him with the iconic words 'I am Heathcliff' and 'I cannot live without my life. I cannot love without my soul'.

Heathcliff's act of revenge, marrying Cathy's sister-in-law Isabella and fathering a son, sets the stage for the second half of the book. Hope or hopelessness? The characterisation in the book is superb. Whether you like or loathe the characters, there is no doubt they are brilliantly drawn. The writing style is perfect for the storyline, and the description of the moors and weather reflects the mood of the book and the sense of forlornness and hopelessness. Wuthering Heights itself is a place naked to the elements, with untamed and raw surroundings that mirror the central characters.

Although romantism influences the story, it is not a love story in the traditional sense. Instead, it is a powerful tale of the love and unity of two souls, in life and in death. The iconic words 'I am Heathcliff' will resonate with many. From the outset, I was invested in this story, the writing, and the characters. The writing in classics may not be for everyone, but if you can embrace it, you will love it. I confess to struggling with it at school, but now I have a deep appreciation for it. If I had one criticism, it would be the use of local dialect that can be too cryptic, disrupting the flow of the story. However, this is a minor quibble in an otherwise masterpiece. Wuthering Heights is a painful drama, a vivid portrayal of the flawed human mind and heart. It is dark, chilling, and beautifully written, but not a beautiful story. It is a book where love, grief, and betrayal fuel cruelty and revenge. Heart-breaking, savage, and self-destructive, yet a masterpiece, particularly in its characterisation and character development.

"Every tub must stand on its own bottom", this saying didn't surprise me much in the novel, like the character "Catherine" who had to be with "Heathcliff".

It's one of the few novels that touch the emotions deeply. To be honest, I didn't know if I loved it or hated it! On one hand, I sympathized with "Heathcliff" at the beginning for what he endured, the bad treatment, and being despised by the master's son. But in the end, I despised him and was ashamed of his actions. Likewise, Catherine's initial affection for the stranger attracted me, but later I hated her vanity, dominance, and pride, and this applies to almost all the characters.

In terms of construction, we are talking about a novel told by a servant. Although the servants witness most of the events that occur in their masters' houses, this knowledge remains superficial. Therefore, the characters are close to being flat, and their simplicity is even pitiful in many places! If the novel were told from "Heathcliff's" perspective, it would be much deeper (in my opinion).

The circles turn, and the philosophy of the story is circular, returning to the beginning in everything. The story that started with Catherine's father's warm heart ended with the same white heart for his grandson! And between them was death, darkness, revenge, and the strange encounter that this death was embodied in a black person! The English author was brilliant here!

The dynamic plot used was excellent for the time the novel was written, but the climax of the novel with "Heathcliff's" return and the start of revenge was weak and hazy, especially since the change that occurred to him remained unknown, and I wasn't convinced of the nature of the change in a short time! Also, the devilish image of Heathcliff was exaggerated, especially in his treatment of his son, his supposed lover's daughter, and his earthly lover!

The message that the author intended, that love overcomes vanity, was excellent at the end of the story, especially since the love story of "Cathy" with her uncle's son is a repetition of the love story of "Heathcliff" with "Catherine", but Cathy didn't follow in her vanity and playfulness. Instead, she took it upon herself to educate her uncle's son and succeeded in winning him. And all that "Heathcliff" tried to do for twenty years went with the wind.

The translation was good, there was a small problem in printing as the lines were very close to each other!

I'm still grappling with the question of why and how there is such an intense frenzy for a sadistic sociopath and a spoiled psycho bitch falling "in love" with each other and causing chaos in everyone's lives around them. It's truly baffling.

People seem to be misinterpreting this toxic and harmful relationship as something romantic, which is completely wrong.

This kind of "love" is not the beautiful and healthy concept that we should be promoting.

Instead, it's a dangerous and disturbing portrayal that can have a negative impact on those who consume it.

We need to be more discerning and stop glorifying such relationships.

It's time to recognize the true nature of this so-called "love" and encourage healthier and more positive forms of connection.

I'm utter trash for this thing. Utter trash. Holy shit. This novel started out in the most ridiculous manner ever, and then turned into a friggin' masterpiece, and now everything makes sense, and my heart is full.

Wuthering Heights is Emily Brontë's only novel. It was published in 1847, the year before Emily (at the tender age of 30) passed away. Wuthering Heights was a book of controversy in Victorian England; the stark depiction of mental and physical cruelty challenged the strict ideals of religious hypocrisy and gender inequality.

Early reviews of Wuthering Heights were mixed. While most critics recognized its power and imagination, they were baffled by the storyline and found the characters forward and uninhibited. One contemporary reviewer said not a single character was likeable. And while I loathed most characters, I'm trash for Hareton and Nelly Dean made me holler. As for Catherine and Heathcliff, they can choke.

Let's talk about my faves. Nelly Dean, the maid and narrator, was hilarious. She wouldn't put up with bullshit and provided a voice of reason. I loved her sassy moments. And Hareton, my ultimate bae, deserves better. I could discuss nature vs nurture, but I just want to gush about them.

Wuthering Heights is often misinterpreted. People think Heathcliff and Cathy are the romantic couple, but they're wrong. The real lovers are Hareton and Cathy, who overcome prejudices and get a happy ending. Here are my top 10 Hareton and Cathy moments.

1) His vulnerability after being made fun of. 2) When he tried to improve himself for Cathy. 3) The first time he was entranced by her. 4) Hareton asking Nelly to ask Cathy to read. 5) Making sure Cathy got the letter. 6) When Cathy called him out for "stealing" books. 7) The first cheek kiss. 8) The first big reconciliation. 9) Their minds tending to the same point. 10) Hareton mourning Heathcliff and Cathy respecting his feelings.

Now for some analysis. I'll never stop thinking about Heathcliff's appearance and whether he's a person of color. He's a social outcast without a first name. I liked him at first, understanding his struggle, but his character got corrupted. Their romance was toxic, but Heathcliff's petty move was great.

I appreciated Emily's criticism of alcohol and Cathy's illness as a metaphor for depression. The novel is rich in themes and will get better on rereads. The gothic ending is awesome. Overall, my only criticism is the frame narrative and some stylistic choices, but I had a blast reading this.

Certain novels arrive with pre-set expectations. They almost seem to be ingrained in literature's collective consciousness, even if they lie completely outside one's own cultural references. For example, I, having no specific knowledge of or great love for romantic, Anglo-Gothic fiction, approached Wuthering Heights with the assumption that it was a melancholy ghost story of thwarted, passionate love and eternal obsession. However, it turns out that obsession was the only accurate part of this presumption.

With an image of Heathcliff and Cathy embracing Gone with the Wind-style on a windy moor firmly in my mind, I was almost entirely unprepared for the hermetic, moribund, bleak, vengeful, perverse, and yes - obsessive - novel that it truly is. Don Quixote is not just about windmills, and Wuthering Heights is not really a love story. Heathcliff and Cathy's love affair (if it can even be called that) is a narcissistic, possessive, and extremely cruel relationship based on self-denial and an obsessiveness that borders on hatred rather than relying on passion. They are selfish, violent, and conniving people who have endured their fair share of abuses (mostly Heathcliff in this regard) and, in turn, have no qualms about raining similar abuses on those they consider beneath them.

Given this dynamic, it seems almost inevitable that these two characters would not only make themselves miserable but also everyone around them, even after death. This is especially easy to achieve mainly because, with the exception of Mr. Lockwood, the tenant who rents a home from Heathcliff, there are no outside characters. Everyone in the novel (including the servants) is isolated, trapped between the same two homes, with the same two families, and truly has no chance of escaping any of the events and consequences that occur. (One character makes a temporary escape only to suffer all the more for it later.)

More importantly, however, is the fact that Heathcliff and Cathy don't even need to be present (although they usually are in some form) for their influence to be felt by the other characters. The sins of the father are literally inherited and passed on to the next generation. The children of Wuthering Heights are not only physical doubles of their parents (at least three characters look like Cathy, and one resembles Heathcliff), but they are also spiritual stand-ins. They must suffer for past transgressions and find a way to make amends for them. All, I might add, without the particular benefit of ever having the full story or the context that might be necessary to actually change their circumstances. Misery, it seems, is inevitable.

Of course, there is much more to be said about this novel. One could spend a considerable amount of time dissecting all the various repetitions and doublings, the narrative structure (the story is told by the housekeeper to the lodger who then writes it down as a diary entry), or the archetypal analogies and semi-biblical symbolism that seems to be implicit in every part of this story.

The point being, I suppose, that while Wuthering Heights may not be the wistful romance one (or maybe just I) expected, it is a particularly satisfying one for all of its dark and layered surprises.

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Emily Bronte wrote one incandescent novel,

little did she know that one day it would be regarded as a work of literary genius.

Any ranking of the world's greatest novels would surely include this masterpiece.

The fact that "Wuthering Heights", "Jane Eyre", and "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall" originated from three sisters is truly astounding.

These novels have had a profound impact on the literary world and continue to be widely read and studied today.

Emily's unique writing style, with its passionate and intense emotions, sets her work apart.

The complex characters and their tortured relationships add depth and drama to the story.

It is remarkable that such great works could come from a relatively small family in a rural area.

The Bronte sisters' contributions to literature will always be remembered and cherished.

There are certain books that you either passionately love or utterly despise; there is scarcely any middle ground. It's similar to some types of food. Marmite or licorice immediately come to mind. Wuthering Heights is precisely one of those books. Ever since I began using GR, I have perused numerous conflicting reviews for this particular book, and they made me increasingly curious to discover which side I would ultimately take. Regrettably, I find myself firmly on the side of the haters.

I won't pen a lengthy review here as it has been done countless times before. I'll simply state that this book drained all the joy of living from me and plunged me into a reading slump from which I earnestly hope to recover swiftly. After finishing it last night, as I was pondering what to read next, I realized that I didn't have the inclination to read anything for a while. I felt almost catatonic.

I believe I started this book on the wrong foot. I was anticipating a beautiful love story, which, in my opinion, it most certainly isn't. Instead, I think this is an extremely well-executed study of two sociopaths, pathologically fixated on each other, who manage to shatter the lives of everyone they know just for the sake of amusement. Their capacity to wound others and each other is so extraordinary that I might even classify this book as belonging to the paranormal genre.

Yes, I do appreciate that the novel was revolutionary for its time and all that, but I didn't enjoy it in the slightest. To my dear friends who adore this novel, I'm truly sorry that I didn't like it more, and I hope you won't take it personally.

Disclaimer: I read it in Romanian, as that's the way I prefer to read all Victorian novels to avoid the archaic language. Maybe I got lost in translation.