Wuthering Heights (1847) By Emily Brönte

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

Emily Brönte is, of course, one of the most celebrated classical authors of her time, and one who has written some iconic works of literature, perhaps none so well-known as 'Wuthering Heights'. It seemed to me a travesty that I had not read one of the most acclaimed books of the Nineteenth Century, and the imminent release of a new cinematic adaptation seemed the perfect motivation to remedy that ill.

"Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!"

I was pleased to find that, at least to my modern eyes, there was a healthy, dry, wit, that I quite enjoyed. Brönte's sense of humour was certainly not lost on me. With that said, this was unfortunately not enough to save it from becoming an extremely lethargic read. I found this particularly true of the second part of the story, which takes place several years after the first. It was not that the sentences were poorly written, per-se, but more that every character involved was so miserable, and so resolute in nature, that it became very tiresome to work through.

"I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free."

There is something, therefore, to be said about the pacing of the novel. I don't mind a slow-moving story, but it must feel as though there are worthwhile events taking place. Much of this book seemed merely intent on showing how nasty one man can be to his guests and servants. There was also an undeniably privileged sense of being to the book - one that was perhaps inevitable - but it still made for slightly cumbersome reading, at various points.

"If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day."

I should endeavour to explain that I did still enjoy several aspects of the novel, even with the above issues. The characters, though seemingly unchanging, were well-crafted, and each felt like an individual creation. Indeed, both settings and the wider world felt very tangible too - I cannot fault Emily Brönte's descriptions, not one bit. Every time I picked up the book, I was indelibly transported to the windswept North of England, and to the unhappy halls of Wuthering Heights.

"If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave."

Overall, I was, unfortunately, left rather wanting in my experience of reading this classic. The atmosphere, the themes, and the characterisation were all excellent, but the pacing, as well as the unsatisfying nature of the plot, left me in turn hoping for more than I received from it. I have certainly had more enjoyable experiences reading classic literature, which perhaps does not help Brönte's case, in this instance. However, I feel I can appreciate the eloquence of her writing, and the efforts she went to create a believable and developed world, without necessarily enjoying the end product.

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger."