‘Seven days glided away, every one marking its course by the henceforth rapid alteration of Edgar Linton’s state. The havoc that months had previously wrought, was now emulated by the inroads of hours.
Catherine, we would fain have deluded, yet, but her own quick spirit refused to delude her. It divined, in secret, and brooded on the dreadful probability, gradually ripening into certainty.’
In a house haunted by memories, the past is everywhere … As darkness falls, a man caught in a snowstorm is forced to shelter at the strange, grim house Wuthering Heights. It is a place he will never forget. There he will come to learn the story of Cathy: how she was forced to choose between her well-meaning husband and the dangerous man she had loved since she was young. How her choice led to betrayal and terrible revenge - and continues to torment those in the present. How love can transgress authority, convention, even death. And how desire can kill.
From the above description, it makes the story seem so much more interesting, gripping and dramatic but unfortunately I did not find this to be true. For the majority of the time, my mind would start to wonder and then before I knew it I had read a chapter without actually being consciously aware that I had been reading, therefore no information had made it past my skull and into my brain. So not much of the story has stayed in my mind, even just thinking about it now, I’m struggling to remember what the heck had happened. It wasn’t the language or the way it was written that I struggled with, it was their content just wasn’t interesting to me and the characters were also difficult to relate to. Young Catherine was annoying, disobedient and only thought about Linton like there was nothing else in the world and then Linton was one minute nice then a complete bastard the next.
There was one point that I really liked about Wuthering Height and that was finishing the book.
After reading the introductions and notes at the beginning of the book, I have come to respect Emily Brontë, even the whole Brontë family, with all the terrible things that happened to them. So I have nothing against the family and will continue to read their books. Who knows? Maybe in a few years I might read Wuthering Heights again and fully appreciate it.