How Not to Relationship, by Cathy and Heathcliff
“Wuthering Heights” is essentially a love story that makes Romeo and Juliet’s brief fling look like a well-adjusted, healthy relationship. Our protagonists, Catherine and Heathcliff, share a bond so toxic, it makes nuclear waste seem eco-friendly. Their love is the kind that prompts you to reconsider your stance on ghosting.
The setting, the eponymous Wuthering Heights, is less a quaint country manor and more a Gothic Airbnb from hell. With its perpetual storms and general ambiance of doom, it’s the perfect backdrop for a love story that’s about as uplifting as a lead balloon. The weather in “Wuthering Heights” is so consistently dreadful, it makes you think Cleveland is a vacation wonderland.
Take a look at how depressing this passage describing the manor is:
“Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff’s dwelling. “Wuthering” being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind, blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones.”
Holy Woody Allen angst. Let’s rewrite that a little cheerier:
“Wuthering Heights is what Mr. Heathcliff calls his house. “Wuthering” is a cool word that means it gets super windy and wild there because of the weather. It’s always super fresh and breezy, which sounds like a great place to go kite-surfing! You can tell how strong the wind is by looking at the small trees at the end of the house leaning over like they’re trying to touch their toes, and there are these big, tough bushes all leaning in one direction, as if they’re trying to catch some sun rays. The person who built the house was really smart because they made sure it was magna sturdy. The windows are deep in the walls, so you can sit by them and not feel the wind too much, and there are big rocks at the corners of the house to keep it from getting cold. It sounds like a cool fort, perfect for indoor roller hockey or just chilling and reading a book.”
See, it’s better already. The real estate value just went up 30 percent.
Heathcliff, our male lead, is what every Victorian lady dreams of: brooding, mysterious, and capable of holding a grudge longer than it takes to read the book itself. He’s the original bad boy, the Fonz of the Moors, but with all the emotional baggage of a modern-day reality TV star. Heathcliff’s idea of romance is so twisted, it could single-handedly sustain the careers of a battalion of therapists on 24 hour/ 7 day a week duty.
Catherine Earnshaw, on the other hand, is the epitome of “can’t live with him, can’t live without him.” Her relationship with Heathcliff is a masterclass in making poor life choices, a theme many a reader can relate to, albeit hopefully with less haunting. Catherine’s indecisiveness and penchant for melodrama could give any soap opera a run for its money. It’s kind of like midseason during every fall NFL schedule when the Browns ownership realize their hopes are dwindling but they make guttural noises and walk around knocking furniture over instead of making good decisions in the first place.
Together, Catherine and Heathcliff embark on a journey of love, revenge, and more mood swings than a teenager on a sugar rush. Their relationship is a cautionary tale about the dangers of not using your words. If only they had access to couples therapy, “Wuthering Heights” might have been a very different story—perhaps a pamphlet.
In conclusion, “Wuthering Heights” is a rollercoaster of emotions, none of which are particularly pleasant. It’s a tale of love, loss, and the kind of passion that makes reminds you of every episode of Real Housewives if they doubled the vodka intake. Emily Brontë crafted a masterpiece that has bewildered and beguiled readers for generations, proving that nothing says “true love” quite like mutual misery. So, if you’re in the mood for a love story that’s as comforting as a cold, damp, British summer, “Wuthering Heights” is the book for you. Remember, it’s not a bug; it’s a feature.
