There are some movies and books that I consider to be part of me not because they are good — sometimes they are actually really bad — but because every time that one of them crosses my way I stop being interested in whatever I was into and get obsessed with them once again.
It is embarrassing to find out those books and movies of mine are always violent, dramatic and emotional stuff, full of blood and passion with little to no humor. Perhaps some of them could be considered as wit, but they are never real funny stuff and I usually consider myself to be this hilarious girl you all wanted to be. Lena Dunham’s level of hilariousness, at least.
“Wuthering Heights” is definitely one of those books I referred to. Recently, it come back to my life due to USP. I had a test on this book last week. Now, the test is over, but my obsession is not. I know this is girlie stuff, but you should re-read it if you think it is only girlie stuff.
Emily Brontë is not about love in an abstract mimimi-meaning. What triggers the tragedy of her novel is a very material, down to Earth question: Cathy’s choices on Linton. Her desire for a gentleman way of life in Treachcross Grange, which results in Heathcliff’s plans for revenge. A revenge against those polite and civilized people who think they can pass through someone else’s feelings and still be nice fellas just because they said “excuse me Mr. Social Nuisance, you are on my fucking yellow brick road”.
By refusing Heathcliff, she makes a choice against her nature and betrays her unspoken rebellion pact with him. Because since childhood — when Hindley’s oppression binds them together — they were supposed to be rebellious people. You know, running naked through the forest, not tamed by this dumb thing called society and certainly not getting married by convenience.
For our disappointment, Cathy’s rebellion proved to be only a strike for better salaries while Heathcliff stands correct. To remain wild is not a girlie stuff, after all.
Although Heathcliff’s indefensible behaviors through the story, the reader stays by his side because he defends questions morally superior than the ones defended by the people from Treachcross Grange, who stand for the Victorian conventions.
It makes perfect sense to me. Perhaps Heathcliff went too far. I like Cathy II and don’t feel like seeing her suffering since she was born, but it is quite clear that he uses against his enemies the weapons that were used against himself since the beginning of his life in Wuthering Heights: money, arranged marriages, expropriation and illiteracy.
He became a monster, but he is the one we understand why he had become such a monster while people from Treachcross Grange do evil only for sport, without even noticing. Men like Edgar Linton were pioneers, they made room for careless people like Tom Buchanan, Gatsby’s rival.
Throughout the story of “Wuthering Heights”, two people had to live where they do not belong: Cathy, who moved to Treachcross Grange, and Linton Heathcliff, who has brought to Wuthering Heights after his mother’s death. Cathy was the feral child seduced by the Victorian way of life while Linton Heathcliff was this annoying little gentleman forced to live with the wolves. None of them lasted long.
What I try to pick up from “Wuthering Heights” and bring to my life is that is important to remain wild. Not because this is something romantic for you to do, or because it can create a great life story, but because otherwise you will not last long. Simple like that.