I understand why many people hate this book. Catherine and Heathcliff are monstrous. Monstrous. You won't like them because they are unlikable. They are irrational, self-absorbed, malicious and pretty much any negative quality you can think a person is capable of possessing without imploding. They seek and destroy and act with no thought to consequence. And I find it fascinating that Emily Bronte chose them to be her central protagonists.

When this was first published it was met with animosity because of how utterly repugnant these two characters were. The way they go about their business caring nothing for others but themselves was enough for me to shake my head in complete and total judgment, as if Catherine and Heathcliff could see me and are then effectively shamed by their actions.

Wuthering Heights is epic, in my humble opinion, because I believe that the scope of this story is monumental. Let me explain: it is a simple tale between two families that are bound in such a way that their fates are irrevocably linked. What affects one, affects the other. Its about Catherine and Heathcliff who fall in love and how their relationship ruins the lives of those around them. The book, all 400 pages of it, occur almost entirely at Wuthering Heights, the estate of the Earnshaws, and at Thrushcross Grange, the estate of the Lintons with only a couple of miles of land in between.

And yet it is not a small story.

The emotional magnitude of this book is great and far reaching. The provoking and unapologetic quality of Bronte's writing is seductive. The process of reading this story can feel so masochistic sometimes that its almost if she's daring us to stop reading and throw the book away. Like its a game of personal endurance to see how much we can take, how far we can go. She pushes at us, challenging us and all the while knowing that we have to keep reading because redemption awaits. It is nothing like its contemporaries.

The moors, the darkness of the moors, that curses the household of Wuthering Heights and its inhabitants is ever present. Nature is personified. It is its own character; its there, lingering and simmering ever so quietly, saturating every scene with its silent threats of doom...okay, I have to stop talking like this...what am I anymore?

There is poison in this book, but let me ease your mind by saying that it is balanced with goodness also. This isn't a perfect novel. There were still moments I found myself in perplexion (recently invented word). And while everything about Catherine and Heathcliff may be corrupt, there is hope in Wuthering Heights. If you can journey through the menacing forest of Emily Bronte's imagination, do it because the view is something to behold.

Ha ha ha, this review...what even is this?

SPOILERS

Behold the wild, dark side of love.

“I am Heathcliff – 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.”

Passion. Desire. Love. Are they the same thing? If we are so intoxicated by someone as ending up seeing them as a mirror to our own self, is this love? It is. Sometimes. But sometimes it is sign not of devotion, but of egotism so strong that it stops us from seeing the actual person and we imagine a likeness that isn’t there just in order to fulfill our needs. I believe that Catherine loves Heathcliff, but I don’t believe she understands him or desires to. By believing he would agree to her plan she shows how little she takes into account what he actually is. She is so lost in her passion that she isn’t willing to admit the difference between them. It is a dangerous thing to be so absorbed by passion for someone that you don’t even care to understand and accept them for who they are. You just want to own them. By making the choice of marrying another man and keeping Heathcliff by her side as a lover whom she would support with her husband’s money she gives up on the very thing that has connected them so far, on the very thing that has stood at the core of their love. Freedom. They both grow up as captives of society that does not understand and accept them for who they are. He is the only one in front of whom she can be herself and she is the only one in front of whom he can be himself. But by choosing to dissemble and submit, Catherine loses that spark that initially connects them. She believes it is for their own good. He is heartbroken. When he comes back, he spends so much time and energy trying to bring back a girl who no longer exists. He cannot stand the woman she has turned herself into. In this case, is he still in love with her or merely in the memory of her? When the person we have loved loses the part that has held our affections, when should we give up on them and when should we devote ourselves to restoring that part?

"He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

Their tragedy lies exactly in the fact that they are n  notn the same. He wants freedom, she wants security. Benjamin Franklin says 'Those who surrender freedom for security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one.' I neither agree, nor disagree. I believe it is a very subjective matter. It isn’t that simple. But in the case of Catherine it really does turn out this way. In the end she has neither comfort, nor freedom.

How much do we know those who we claim to love? We all risk to see something that isn’t actually there or miss something that is. Either blinded by passion or by our desire to recreate the objects of our passion. If we cannot truly accept our loved ones for who they are and we try to change them, then do we truly love n  themn or simply those we would like them to be? Can such a distinction be made? Or is it a little bit of both? Do we love only those parts of our partners that resemble ourselves or are we willing to love even those we cannot accept? Are love and acceptance the same thing? It isn’t uncommon for a person to try changing their loved one, but sometimes the good and the bad come from the same place and if we happen to succeed, we are at risk of destroying the good as well. Catherine tries to tame Heathcliff and in doing so, she destroys him. His passionate love turns into passionate hatred.

Feeling so close to someone as not to know where you end and they begin is either a sign of profound affinity or a profound delusion. Love is merciful and cruel, generous and selfish, sorrow and ecstasy. We all lose something and gain something by choosing to give into another person. Change is inevitable. Sometimes we get stronger, sometimes we are ruined. Sometimes it is a little bit of both. Some of us find their worthy partners, some, sadly, never do. But I believe that no matter on which side of the coin you turn out, staying faithful to yourself is always the right choice.

Read count: 2

The storytelling on this was spot on, almost like a bedtime story for adults. Couldn't put this down!

2025 Reading Schedule
JantA Town Like Alice
FebtBirdsong
MartCaptain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Berniere
AprtWar and Peace
MaytThe Woman in White
JuntAtonement
JultThe Shadow of the Wind
AugtJude the Obscure
SeptUlysses
OcttVanity Fair
NovtA Fine Balance
DectGerminal

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What follows is a retelling of the exact moment I gave up on reading Wuthering Heights.

"I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE!" Screamed the weary reader.

His startled co-workers looked up from their monotonous work at the unexpected vocal discharge from an otherwise quiet introvert.

"Classic my a##." He shouted as he thrust the book into the bottom drawer of his desk.

The room was quiet; the tension was thick; the anticipation was palpable. His fellow workers wondered if this was it, the moment he finally snapped.

"Bad book Jesse?" said some faceless co-worker.

"Yeah, bad book," mumbled the weary reader as he went back to his mind-numbing job.

Wuthering Heights is not an enjoyable read in the least. It could be my current mood. It could be that I just came off an amazing read, and it had no chance to live up to that. Or it could be the book sucked. I'll put it in the try again later file, but I have little hope for it.

(Book 902 from 1001 books) - Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë's only novel, was published in 1847 under the pseudonym "Ellis Bell". She died the following year, aged 30.

It was written between October 1845 and June 1846, Wuthering Heights and Anne Brontë's Agnes Grey were accepted by publisher Thomas Newby before the success of their sister Charlotte's novel Jane Eyre.

After Emily's death, Charlotte edited the manuscript of Wuthering Heights and arranged for the edited version to be published as a posthumous second edition in 1850.

Thirty years earlier, the Earnshaws live at Wuthering Heights with their children, Hindley and Catherine, and a servant — Nelly herself.

Returning from a trip to Liverpool, Earnshaw brings a young orphan whom he names Heathcliff and treats as his favourite.

His own children he neglects, especially after his wife dies. Hindley beats Heathcliff, who gradually becomes close friends with Catherine.

Hindley departs for university, returning as the new master of Wuthering Heights on the death of his father three years later. He and his new wife Frances allow Heathcliff to stay, but only as a servant.

Heathcliff and Catherine spy on Edgar Linton and his sister Isabella, children who live nearby at Thrushcross Grange.

Catherine is attacked by their dog, and the Lintons take her in, sending Heathcliff home.

When the Lintons visit, Hindley and Edgar make fun of Heathcliff and a fight ensues. Heathcliff is locked in the attic and vows revenge. ...

بلندیهای بادگیر (عشق هرگز نمیمیرد) - امیلی برونته (نگاه ، جامی) ادبیات این کتاب نخستین بار در سال 1847میلادی منتشر شد؛ تاریخ خوانش این نسخه سال 1998میلادی

عنوانهای چاپ شده در ایران: «تندباد حوادث یا ووترینگ هایتز»؛ «بلندیهای بادخیز»؛ «بلندیهای بادخیز (وودرینگ هایتز)»؛ «بلندیهای بادگیر»؛ «بلندیهای بادگیر (وادرینگ هایتز)»؛ «بلندیهای بادگیر (عشق هرگز نمیمیرد)»؛ «بلندیهای بادگیر (وادرینگ هایتس)»؛ «بلندیهای بادگیر یا عشق هرگز نمیمیرد»؛ «به رزاییه کانی به‌ربا»؛ «عشق هرگز نمیمیرد»؛ «عشق هرگز نمیمیرد (بلندیهای بادگیر)»؛ «واترینگ هایتز»؛ «بلندیهای بادگیر (تا انتهای پر رنج عشق)»؛ «عشق هرگز نمیمیرد (بلندیهای بادخیز)»؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: سال 1977میلادی؛ بار دوم: سال 1998میلادی؛ و بار سوم: ماه می سال 2007میلادی

هر یک از عنوانهای بالا بارها به زیور طبع آراسته شده اند، البته که با کوشش مترجمین و دیگران؛ اثر «امیلی برونته»، شاعر و نویسنده ی «انگلیسی» است که بارها توسط مترجمهای نام آشنا خانمها و آقایان: «عبدالعظیم صبوری - در 299ص، در سال 1334هجری خورشیدی»، «ولی الله ابراهیمی در سال 1348هجری خورشیدی»، «داریوش شاهین»؛ «علی اصغر بهرام بیگی»، «پرویز پژواک»؛ «رباب امام»، «تهمینه مهربانی»، «حمید اکبری و زهرا احمدیان»، «فرزانه قلیزاده»، «نعیمه ظاهری»، «مریم صادقی»؛ «اکرم مظفری»، «فاطمه امینی»، «شادی ابطحی»، «فریده قراچه داغی (صمیمی)»؛ «مهدی سجودی مقدم»، «رضا رضایی»، و «نوشین ابراهیمی»، «مهدی غبرائی»، «هادی ریاضی»، «سمیه امانی» و «شهرام قوامی»؛ ترجمه و منتشر شده است

خواهران برونته («شارلوت» و «امیلی جین»، و «آن») هر سه از چهره های ممتاز ادبیات سده ی نوزدهم میلادی «انگلستان» هستند؛ «بلندیهای بادخیز» تنها رمان «امیلی جین برونته»، از پرخوانشگرترین آثار ادبیات «انگلستان» و شاید جهان هستند؛ در این کتاب، متن کوتاه شده، و برای نوجوانان است؛ با این همه در مسافرتها، بارها و بارها آن را خوانده ام؛ «وادِرینگ هایتس» در این داستان، نام عمارت خانوادگی «ارنشاو» است؛ و به معنی خانه ای هست، که روی تپه، و در معرض باد، ساخته شده است؛ داستان عشق آتشین و مشکل‌دار، میان «هیث کلیف» و «کترین (کاترین) ارنشاو»، و این‌که همین عشق نافرجام، چگونه سرانجام این دو عاشق، و بسیاری از اطرافیانشان را به نابودی می‌کشاند؛ «هیث کلیف» کولی‌زاده‌ ای است که موفق به ازدواج با «کاترین» نمی‌شود، و پس از مرگ «کاترین» به انتقام‌ روی می‌آورد

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 06/09/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 14/06/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

As a youngster this book mystified me. Adults said I should read it so I did my best. Later, teachers said I should read it, so I read it again. Then it cropped up on a syllabus and got a third and fourth run through. I even watched the movie. And still I didn’t enjoy it. Families at each other’s throats, spitting raw cruelty. Heathcliff horrible, savage. Cathy spoiled and selfish. What was there to like? In the end I thought they both got what they deserved.

Which is not to say the book is not well written. Bronte's plot - like so many gothic plots - is highly improbable but holds up, her characters real enough even as they shock and sicken us and the author’s prose style keeps us going to the end. Why? Ask me another. Better still, read it for yourself and see what you think.

A classic! A classic! And one of the most godawful boring books I've ever forced myself through! I felt in need of clockwork-orange-style eyelid openers for most of the book. This novel is a great example of exactly why high school students learn to hate reading 'classics.'

"There are two wolves, and they are always fighting. One is darkness and despair, the other light and hope. Which one wins? The one you feed."
- Cherokee legend

I have to start by saying Holy cats! That was not what I was expecting.

This fabulous tale begins with bumbling Mr. Lockwood, who wishes to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city and looks forward to the beautiful country life. He’s on a mission to rent Thrushcross Grange from its owner, who also owns Wuthering Heights Manor. He’s welcomed as much as anyone would welcome the plague and is met with harsh treatment, as well as pack of ill-tempered dogs who violently maul him. Add to that a snowstorm that puts him in his sickbed, this rural getaway is beginning to seem like a capital idea!

As Mr. Lockwood convalesces at Thrushcross Grange, he becomes acquainted with the keeper of the house, Ellen Dean. Treading lightly after his previous encounters with these inhospitable people he approaches Miss Dean with caution and inquires after the intriguing inhabitants of Wuthering Heights. Ellen - or Nelly, as she’s known- is of a kinder disposition. She rushes off to get her knitting and settles in to tell the tale of all of the broken souls who haunt the halls of these once-grand homes.

I’m snuggled in with my new friends engrossed in the saga of Heathcliff, the foundling gipsy child and Catherine, the daughter of his benefactor (and their magnetic attraction), eagerly listening to Nelly regale the history of the Earnshaws and the Lintons, her knitting needles clicking away, when she tells of Heathcliff's hasty departure! By now, I am completely captivated, and that’s when Nelly ceases the recounting, stating that Mr. Lockwood needs his sleep. Never mind his sleep! I grumbled. Lockwood and I don't need any sleep, woman! Get on with it!

I wanted to reach into the pages and shake her! Where has Heathcliff gone? And what is going to happen to Cathy? Those two are the Richard Burton and Liz Taylor of their day! Tell! Tell! And be quick about it!

Thankfully, Nelly returned to the story after some urging from my good man Lockwood, and we find that Cathy has married Edgar Linton! She’s living at Thrushcross Grange with Edgar and his sister Isabella, and they are as happy as clams.

Then the poo hits the proverbial fan back at Wuthering Heights.

Mr. Heathcliff comes strolling back into the picture, slick as you please, after three years away. He's looking all Rico Suave as he pops over to Cathy’s new digs, intending to stir the fire in her loins. And here she is married to another. Oh my! Next, the wilting flower, Isabella, upon laying her baby blues on ol' Heathcliff has a mighty yearning for the brooding bad boy, and all the while the devilish rogue is licking his chops at the thought of her juicy money. Cathy turns lime green with jealousy and Nelly is about to have a breakdown over the whole hot mess. It's code red over there!

The outcome for these dismally unhappy folks could hardly be a 'happily ever after' one ... Or could it? I won’t spoil Wuthering Heights for anyone who is yet to read this engrossing melodrama. The story is wild, dark and stormy, and I devoured it as if I was starving. The prose is so evocative as to create a movie in my mind that culminates in a spectacular finish. A story of vengeance, love, greed and the cost of evil deeds; but could there also be redemption?

One of my favorite lines; Cathy says of Heathcliff:
"He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

I would urge anyone who hasn’t read this dazzling novel, to please give it a try. I’m still reeling!

Heathcliff might be the biggest ass-munch in the history of classical literature. True, he didn't come to Wuthering Heights under the best of circumstances, being an adopted "dark skinned" interloper in a household full of spoiled brats with inattentive adult supervision. And he had no role models of kindness and compassion to speak of. But holy shit Brontë, cut us a little slack. Even the so-called "love" that Heathcliff allegedly has for Catherine manifests itself in a cauldron of bile and vitriol so perpetual and unrelenting that almost everyone in his sphere of influence is driven to an early grave. And he doesn't stop there. No sir. He just redoubles his insidious efforts by targeting and manipulating their decendents.

Dogs are kicked and beaten and hung with handkerchiefs from bridle hooks. Children are slapped and scorned and terrorized. And that's not even the worst of it. Yet, I kept reading. I kept thinking that there had to be redemption and retribution in there somewhere. Heathcliff was going to slip and fall into a live volcano, slicing himself on razor shards of obsidian (encrusted with anthrax) on the way down… right?

Many people consider this book a masterpiece, a monument of English literature. This novel exudes an incredible force due to Heathcliff's destructive passion for Catherine. Still, for my part, I did not find any character endearing or with which to identify me even slightly.
Let's start with the narrator, Mrs. Dean. At no time did I feel that she loved Catherine or anyone else. On the contrary, her coldness and moral lessons made her unpleasant.
As for Catherine, more unbearable, you die! At first, she was careless and a little proud, but she didn't change much as she grew up. Become weak. I waited for that moment when my heart would melt and feel some semblance of emotion, but nothing.
Heathcliff is the only character who has inspired me in any way. It's a small pity. As an adult, it's a pity, too!
Usually, I am fascinated by evil characters, but the plot here is too simple to make Heathcliff a complex man.
I won't write about my feelings about the other family members because you will understand that this book did not touch me.
This novel is dark, yes, but it remains a love story. Nothing sensational.

A classic revenge story with two characters with bad temperaments...

I'm not sure how I feel about this book. It's dark, it's pretty messed up and definitely not romantic (really people? I worry about you).

:(