Review: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

20 Books of Summer 2019: Book 5

The last time I read Wuthering Heights was probably in high school. One scene burned itself into my memory: The moment a grieving Heathcliff calls to the ghost of his beloved Catherine:

He got on to the bed, and wrenched open the lattice, bursting, as he pulled at it, into an uncontrollable passion of tears. “Come in! come in!” he sobbed. “Cathy, do come. Oh, do—once more! Oh! my heart’s darling! hear me this time, Catherine, at last!” The spectre showed a spectre’s ordinary caprice: it gave no sign of being, but the snow and wind whirled wildly through, even reaching my station, and blowing out the light. (19)

I was smitten by “my heart’s darling!” Who knows why certain lines leave such an impression. So with this memory, I sat down for a reread and found Wuthering Heights so, so, so not romantic. read more