So, if I told you I was obsessed with Wuthering Heights would you be shocked? "Ugh, we know, Trish" you all groan in unison. I've made it no secret of my past several years of blogging that Wuthering Heights is one of my favorite books and the book I credit for my passion for books. I won't go into the story again. (If blogger didn't hate me so much I'd link to my post where I talk about this but I get a giant ugly error...hopefully blogger won't hate me forever).I was doing a little bit of catch-up blogging last week (slowly but surely people) and saw that Softdrink (aka Jill) is currently hosting a Wuthering Heights readalong.
Gasp! Why didn't anyone invite me? I mean, really. :P Yes, sometimes I do think the universe revolves completely around ME. I am a blogger, afterall, probably the most egocentric hobby I could think of. (Oops, don't throw those nasty glares at me!).
I'm pretty sure I just picked up a new [used] copy of Wuthering Heights since the move, but because I haven't organized my books or my "study" yet (yes, it has been four months!), I can't find it. And it's absolutely possible I've gone crazy and said purchase only exists in my head. I was, however, able to find my much used and abused copy from high school. See below the lovely highlighting and notes and broken spine. The copy peaking underneath is my mantle copy from 1943. It was my great-uncle's before he died in WWII. I obviously never met him but I dearly loved my Aunt Fran who I swear I inherited my bookish tendencies from.
So the book. I'm behind in the readalong and suspect I will be for a few more weeks (I also have a brand spankin' new copy of WH coming in the mail to me--I had to have the copy that Jill has!).
Chapters 1-3
Mr. Lockwood, the resident at Thrushcross Grange, visits the neighboring Wuthering Heights and is met with near hostility by Mr. Healthcliff and a few other curious characters (Mrs. Healthcliff who is not Heathcliff's wife; Joseph the stable hand or servant or something; Hareton Earnshaw, who has a giant chip on his shoulder; and Zillah the maid). Upon his second visit to the house (goes hoping it will be better than the first), Mr. Lockwood is snowed in and ends up sleeping in a shut-up room where he happens upon the diary of Cathy. He has a bunch of terribly strange dreams as apparently Wuthering Heights is haunted by ghosts. Something is definitely rotten in the house of WH!
Why do I love Wuthering Heights so much? The language. It's completely over the top but goodness is it good. I can't type them all up as I'd end up typing three chapters worth, but a few:
"A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow" (12).
"In vapid listlessness, I leant my head against the window, and continued the spelling over Catherine Earnshaw-Heathcliff-Linton, till my eyes closed; but they had not rested five minutes when a glare of white letters started from the dark, as vivid as spectres-the air swarmed the Catherines; and rousting myself to dispel the obtrusive name, I discovered my candle wick reclining on one of the antique volumes, and perfuming the place with an odour of roasted calf-skin" (16).
"There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied this raving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drew off, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at having related my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony; though why, was beyond my comprehension" (25).
Sigh. Sometimes I think that Emily (yes, we're on first name basis) is talking about nothing and just using up a lot of words, but I don't care. And I'm not even one for deadwood--despite my own ramblings. This book just screams passion to me, though.
PS--see that cute little corner bookmark on the book? It could be YOURS (along with other goodies) if you enter my giveaway this week! You know you love it, too.
Swooning,










