I’m Still on Chapter 9

I won’t attempt to soften the blow: I’m still on chapter 9 of Wuthering Heights. What’s interesting isn’t my lack of work ethic—something I could attribute to covid, a lack of self discipline, and a complete shift in needed preparation for the upcoming AP tests—no, these extraordinary conditions aren’t interesting at all, despite everyone constantly talking about them. What I do find interesting is that regardless of what chapter I’m on (nine…I’m on chapter nine, couldn’t let anyone forget), I’ve actually enjoyed it so far. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of where this book seems to be going: another tale of revenge that’s rather outdated and doesn’t bring any questions to the table. What I am actually a fan of is 

1.) how it’s written and 

2.) how the audience learns information about Heathcliff

Now I could be totally wrong about where I think Wuthering Heights is going, and maybe it even brings something for me to chew on after I finish reading it (which at this pace, would be in about two years). Because I don’t want a substanceless blog, I mentioned the two things I’ve really enjoyed so far with some eye-popping numerics to let you know that, yes, I actually do have some sort of a positive opinion and will be presenting it as best I can. Let’s talk about those opinions.

When I say I enjoy how Wuthering Heights is written, I really mean I enjoy how well written it truly is. Emily Bronte has a great vocabulary and a knack for using the right words, but more specifically, is really talented at character building and scene setting. Not only were the descriptions of physical places like Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange vivid, but the atmosphere of things like conversations or rooms was almost palpable. The introductory conversation with Heathcliff and Lockwood comes to mind, where not only do we see Lockwood’s egoism and Heathcliff’s gruffness, we see how these two starkly contrasted personalities clash. I could feel how uncomfortable the setting and conversations made Lockwood feel, without the need for Bronte to just tell me his inner thoughts with the pen.

I just praised Bronte for not using the pen to tell all the characters innermost thoughts, and I’m going to do it again and tenfold for how the story is told in Wuthering Heights. So far, Wuthering Heights has been mostly a recount of Heathcliff’s early life, told almost entirely from Nelly’s perspective in a single night in Lockwood’s room. This means that everything we’re reading is essentially dialogue, yet I applaud how it doesn’t feel like dialogue. Not to say everything that’s being said couldn’t believably come from Nelly’s mouth, no, I mean that usually dialogue is pervasive. When everything is written in a spoken-word style, it often drops the formality of the story and thus the ability for the author to show off his vocabulary. With better vocabulary comes a more distinct picture, and if Wuthering Heights is a picture it’s more of a Michaelangelo than a Claude Monet, so to speak. Which is interesting—nothing says the style of Michaelangelo is better than Monet, it’s simply refreshing to see in contrast to what we normally see (read).