Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë - Book review, Summary, Characters, Analysis & Quotes
Emily Brontë, the author of Wuthering Heights (1818-1848), an English writer and poet, was one of the three Brontë sisters. Published a self-published poetry collection in 2009, focusing on Emily. The style of her poems is often straightforward and emotional; the descriptions of scenes are often desolate and lonely.
Once praised by the famous poet Matthew Arnold, he praised Emily's "passion, depth and boldness" in poems that were probably unparalleled after Byron's death. But her novel Wuthering Heights overshadowed the light of her poetry.
In September 1848, her brother Branwell died of alcohol and drug addiction. A frail Emily lamented her brother's untimely death, contracted tuberculosis on the day of her funeral, and refused any treatment. He died at home at 2 pm on December 19 of the same year, at the age of 30.
Her "Wuthering Heights" was not well-known at the time, but it was highly sought after her death. Acclaimed as one of the strangest and most powerful novels in the history of British literature, this work is actually Emily's debut and her only novel.
This tragic novel describes the story of Heskelev, a gypsy outcast who was adopted by the old owner of the villa. He went out to get rich due to humiliation and failed love affairs. After returning, he took revenge on Linton, the landowner who married Catherine, and his children...
The novel is full of a strong fighting spirit against oppression, and the inner world of the characters displayed has an extraordinary passion and rebellious spirit. The text of the novel is called "a perfect, moving narrative poem".
Book: Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
About the Author: Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
Emily Brontë (1818-1848), was an English novelist and famous poetess. Emily Bronte died on December 19, 1848, at the age of 30. Brontë is one of the three famous Brontë sisters, a famous British writer, and poet in the 19th century.
Although she only completed one novel "Wuthering Heights" in her life, she established her status in the history of British literature and the history of world literature by virtue of this world-famous novel. In addition, Bronte also left a rich cultural heritage in poetry creation.
According to statistics, she has completed more than 200 poems in her short life, but she is low-key and reserved, and her published poems are not Most of her poems were not revealed to the world until after her death. His representative works include "Souvenir", "Prisoner" and "Night Wind".
Emily Bronte was born in a priest's family in Thornton, England. Her family was poor. Bronte was an introvert when she was young, but under the influence of her father, she loved reading and writing poetry at a very young age. keen interest. In 1846, she and her other two sisters had published a collection of poems at their own expense, but the sales were pitiful, only 2 copies were sold.
The author also briefly introduces her other two sisters. Charlotte Bronte is Emily Bronte's sister, her masterpiece is the world-famous book "Inter-Love"; Anne Bronte is Emily Bronte's younger sister, although she is not as well-known as her two sisters, her work Agnes Grey also has a place in the British literary scene.
Back to the topic, in December 1847, Emily Brontë published "Wuthering Heights", but instead of her reputation and applause, she was criticized and criticized by people.
This is a somewhat scary and morbid novel. In September 1848, Emily Brontë's brother, Bromwell, died of illness, which was a great blow to Brontë. Her body also weakened sharply due to excessive grief, and she died in December of the same year.
Criticism and Appreciation of Millie Bronte's "Wuthering Heights"
1. Famous critics of "Wuthering Heights":
British progressive critic Arnold Keitel concluded: "Wuthering Heights expresses, in the form of artistic imagination, the spiritual oppression, tension and conflict of man in nineteenth-century capitalist society. ideology, no false consolation, and no suggestion that the power to manipulate their fate is beyond the struggle and actions of human beings themselves.
The powerful call to nature, wilderness, storms, stars, and seasons is an important part of the true movement to reveal life itself. The men and women in Wuthering Heights are not prisoners of nature, they live in the world and try to change it, sometimes smoothly, but always painfully, almost constantly encountering difficulties, and constantly making mistakes."
2. Appreciation of Wuthering Heights:
"Wuthering Heights" shows people a picture of life in a deformed society through a love tragedy, and outlines the human nature distorted by this deformed society and the various terrifying events it has caused. The plot of the whole story actually unfolds gradually through four stages. The first stage describes the childhood life of Heathcliff and Catherine together;
The special feelings that an outcast and a young lady from in this special environment, and their resistance to Hendley's tyranny. The second stage focuses on the description of Catherine because of vanity, ignorance, and ignorance, abandoning Heathcliff and becoming the mistress of Thrushcross Grange. The third stage uses a lot of ink to describe how Heathcliff, in desperation, turned his hatred into revengeful plots and actions.
Although the final stage only explained Heathcliff's death, it prominently revealed a brand new change in his mind that he experienced when he learned about Hareton and little Catherine's love - the revival of human nature, which made this episode terrifying. The tragedy of love reveals a comforting ray of hope.
Book Summary: Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
In the north of England, there is a mountain village called "Wuthering Heights".
One day, the owner of the village, Earnshaw, took an outcast as his adopted son, named Heathcliff, and placed him in the village with his son Hindley and daughter Catherine. Heathcliff and Catherine fall in love with each other over time. Perhaps just not used to the presence of strangers at first,
Hindley was disgusted by Heathcliff's presence. After the death of Old Earnshaw, Hindley was the master of the house. He not only forbade Heathcliff from communicating with Catherine but also abused and insulted Heathcliff in every possible way. The results of this persecution undoubtedly intensified Heathcliff's hatred of Hindley, but at the same time deepened his love for Catherine.
One day, Heathcliff and Catherine went out in secret and met Edgar Linton, the young owner of Thrushcross Grange. Because of Katherine's beautiful face, Linton fell in love with her and proposed to her. The young and innocent Catherine agreed to marry Linton in order to use his wealth to help Heathcliff get rid of her brother's persecution. Heathcliff knew the news of Catherine's marriage, but he didn't analyze it objectively. He was heartbroken and left home angrily.
A few years later, Heathcliff, who disappeared from the scene, is sitting on a wealth of wealth and returning home. His purpose is obvious - revenge. How can we forget the hatred of robbing love and the pain of persecution?
Because of his unruly life and his addiction to gambling, Hindley has squandered the industry left by Earnshaw. When he saw Heathcliff coming back rich, he asked him to stay in the manor, mortgaged the rest of the property to him, and became a slave.
By the light of wealth, Heathcliff became a frequent visitor to Thrushcross Grange, and Linton's sister Isabella eloped with him as a legendary hero. He then imprisoned her in Wuthering Heights and tortured her to vent his hatred.
After Katherine married Linton, she saw her husband's hypocrisy and felt remorse in her heart. Heathcliff's return put her in the abyss of grief and shame. There was no hope, and then she became ill, and the young Catherine left only one baby girl, Katie, who was born after 7 months of pregnancy.
Isabella took advantage of Katherine's death and fled the villa and took refuge in the outskirts of London. Soon, they gave birth to a son, Lynton Heathcliff. Hindley collapsed in drunkenness less than half a year after Katherine's death, and his infant Hareton fell into Heathcliff's hands. Because of the hatred, Heathcliff wanted to take further revenge on the child, "educate" him into a savage, and make him suffer the same. After 12 years, Isabella died of illness, and Heathcliff took her son back. Heathcliff hated his son, suave but selfish.
As the years go by, Katie has become graceful. On her 16th birthday, she stumbled across uncle Heathcliff, whom she didn't know. When Heathcliff learns Katie's true identity, love and hate are intertwined, and then a new idea of revenge arises: let her marry his son to monopolize the Linton family's estate. While Linton is dying, Heathcliff goes as planned - forcing Katie to marry her son. A few days later, Linton died, and Heathcliff became the owner of Thrush Grange. Little Heathcliff died quietly shortly after their marriage, leaving Katie alone.
At this time, Hareton was 23 years old, and he looked very much like Heathcliff when he was young. Although he was deprived of the right to education, he did not enjoy the warmth that the world should have, but he was a talent. Katie fell in love with him. Heathcliff had hoped that they would hate each other, but never thought that they should love each other. He was determined to break up the pair of mandarin ducks.
However, when he observed it carefully, the scenes of the former Catherine and him falling in love were presented one by one in his mind. At this moment, the hatred in his heart subsided, because he couldn't bear it, he stopped taking revenge. One snowy night, with an empty heart, Heathcliff died.
"Wuthering Heights" expresses the spiritual oppression, tension, and conflict in the capitalist society of the nineteenth century in the form of artistic imagination. The pain and obsession, cruelty and persistence of love are described here so shockingly. It uses a love tragedy to present a picture of life in a deformed society to the world and outlines the distorted human nature and all kinds of appalling things it has caused.
The whole story can be divided into three stages:
- The first stage describes the childhood life of Heathcliff and Catherine; one is an outcast and the other is a young lady, who formed special feelings in this special environment, and their love for Hindley. Arrogant resistance.
- The second stage focuses on the description of Catherine's vanity, innocence, and ignorance, becoming the hostess of Thrush Grange.
- The third stage describes in detail Heathcliff's desperation to turn hatred into stratagems and actions and briefly describes Heathcliff's death, the recovery of humanity, and the warm sunshine infiltrating the tragedy of love.
In the novel, the author concentrates his efforts on the portrayal of Heathcliff's image, where indignation, sympathy, and ideals are pinned. This outcast who has been deprived of the warmth of the world has cultivated strong love and hatred in real life. Hindley's whip made him aware of the cruelty of life and taught him that his humiliated fate cannot be changed by swallowing his voice.
So he chose to resist. Catherine had been his faithful companion, and the two developed a sincere love in their mutual resistance. However, Catherine ended up betraying Heathcliff and marrying Edgar Linton, whom she didn't know and didn't love at all.
The direct cause of this love tragedy is her vanity and stupidity, and she ruined her youth, love, and life. Not only did she ruin Heathcliff, who was so in love with her, she nearly ruined the next generation. Catherine's misfortune is undoubtedly worthy of sympathy and regret, but it is also indignant and indignant.
Catherine's betrayal and her tragic fate after marriage were without a doubt the most significant turning point. It turned Heathcliff's full love into an unparalleled hatred; when Catherine died, the rage burst out like the Cleveland volcano and became a maddening force of vengeance. Heathcliff's purpose was indeed achieved.
He not only let Hindley and Edgar die miserably, occupying the two properties but also let their innocent descendants suffer the consequences. This kind of crazy revenge and hatred expresses his extraordinary rebelliousness vividly, which is a special resistance determined by a special environment and special character. Heathcliff's love tragedy is a social tragedy and a tragedy of the times.
The story of the book ends with Heathcliff committing suicide for the purpose of revenge. His death is a kind of sacrificial love, which expresses his unswerving love for Catherine, a pursuit that cannot be the same in life and seek the same point in death.
And before he died, he gave up the idea of revenge on the next generation, showing that his good nature was only distorted by the cruel reality. This revival of humanity is a spiritual sublimation that shines with the author's humanitarian ideals.
The intense love, violent hatred, and ruthless revenge of Wuthering Heights are like a peculiar lyric poem.
Heathcliff's revolt was not ordinary, it represented the revolt of the degraded workers of the Victorian era, not just physically but spiritually. Everything that is contained in Catherine's relationship with Heathcliff, everything that is represented in the needs and hopes of mankind, can only be achieved here by active resistance.
Their tragedy is that Catherine, aware of their disparity, fantasizes about using the wealth of the Lintons to help Heathcliff, leaving her brother out of the question. This made a big mistake, and she was like a seriously ill spider caught in a web woven by her own hands. And after she had promised to marry Linton, she clearly said:
"My greatest grief in the world is Heathcliff's grief, and I've felt it from the start, he's everything in my life. If everything else is ruined and he's still there, I am, and if all else remains and he is wiped out, I will no longer be familiar with this world. I am not like a part of it.
My love for Linton is like a leaf in the woods: I know very well that in winter when the trees are changed, time changes the leaves. But my love for Heathcliff is like the rock that never changes, and it doesn't give you much pleasure on the surface, but it's like the air Heathcliff will always be in my heart..."
Even so, she betrayed the person she loved the most, so she had to struggle to die. Before she died, Heathcliff rebuked her angrily: " Why do you deceive your own heart... You have killed yourself... Misery, shame, and death, and all the blows and pains God can give, cannot separate us, and you, out of your own heart, do this I did."
Then: "I love the man who killed me - but the man who killed you? How can I love him?" This led to the tragedy of Heathcliff - at the cost of cruelty. revenge. He had no money, but he plundered the property of others; he was degraded, reviled, and reduced to the status of a servant by Hindley since he was a child, and a few years later he in turn took revenge on his son in the same way.
It is a spiritual failure. He admits that "this is a bad ending", and he no longer wants to take revenge, because such "tit for tat" will inevitably lead to emptiness!
Heathcliff was also a sympathetic man for his time, and his vengeance was understandable. For more than ten years, Catherine's lonely soul wandered and cried in the wilderness, waiting for him. At last, Heathcliff also died peacefully, and their souls were no longer alone...
This is of course nonsense, but as the author finally writes: "Under that gentle sky, in front of these three tombstones, I looked at With moths fluttering among the heather and orchid, and listening to the soft wind blowing through the grass, I wonder who could have imagined such a restless sleep in that peaceful land."
Heathcliff and Catherine's unconquerable and unswerving love is a stubborn resistance to the old age in which they were manipulated by evil forces. Although their resistance was passive and powerless, their Love overcomes death and is sublimated.
Book Review of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
"Wuthering Heights" should be the most important western classic in the author's heart. I was attracted by those terrible Gothic illustrations from childhood, and I read them for the first time, then the second time, and the third time...
As I got older, I stopped reading it. Satisfied with the novel itself, I began to search for a lot of information and then wrote a biography of Emily Brontë and her poems (about one-third of the progress, many of her poems are also very difficult, and they are currently in slow progress), Prose, diary, I also went to Haworth, the hometown of the three Brontë sisters, and saw the wasteland that Emily loved all her life...
"Wuthering Heights" should be such a book, when you read it for the first time, you already fully understand its overall impression, although you may not know how to describe the feeling after reading, its power has been engraved in you In the bloodline, and then you continue to read it for the second and third times, and you start to find it more and more difficult to understand.
When you try to use appropriate language to express your understanding of the novel or the author himself, In fact, deviations have often occurred. Maybe you can change the angle here. You think it is a poem. This long poem called "Wuthering Heights" has a subtle structure and expresses it eloquently.
It also implies the author's transcendental consciousness of human beings. Maybe such a consciousness It is not Emily's conscious creation, but a unique individual, a human individual who longs for nature and the inevitable process of participating in eternity, which is also the responsibility that Emily Bronte was born to undertake.
(The most famous portrait is by Branwell Bronte, who is Emily's older brother, perhaps more than brother and sister...)
First of all, I hope to establish a premise that if you have read Emily's poems, you will clearly understand that Emily Bronte has the ability to easily convert a series of concepts into concrete images: in her mind, "Hope" is a shy friend; "Reason" is a judge who constantly asks herself; "Illusion" is a friend who can defend herself...
And in her short life only "The Wasteland" is her most dependable, and the most important point in understanding all of Emily's works is "The Waste Land", which was transformed into her only novel "Wuthering Heights".
Whether Heathcliff or Linton, the two men Catherine loved were nature themselves, Heathcliff was nature, and Linton was nature. Imagine what terrifying power fills the heart of Heathcliff, and Linton's calmness and gentleness are equally incredible, in the novel, there are words like this:
"No doubt Catherine, when one (Linton) came in and the other (Heathcliff) went out, saw that her attitude towards her two friends was very different. It's as if you've just watched a desolate hill producing coal. the region, again to a beautiful fertile valley."
This is not the most wonderful exposition of the two in the novel. First of all, it is clear that whether Heathcliff or Linton is "nature", and Catherine is the elf that wanders between them, wantonly breaking all nature with her emotions of harmony. We have heard many times that Heathcliff is a foreign saboteur. If we think about it again, who can act as the director behind the scenes of "Fight and Harmony" except the heroine Catherine?
Next, I will focus on my personal understanding of the theme of this novel. Understanding the theme will give you a general understanding of reading or evaluating the work, as follows:
In my opinion, the theme of "Wuthering Heights" is how "eternity" can exist under the constant establishment and destruction (a mechanism) of natural "harmony", in the struggle (dynamic force) between man and the elements of cruelty and tranquility.
(In the vicarage seen from the cemetery, one can imagine the death scene that the Brontë family can see by pushing the window)
(This famous portrait of the three sisters was also made by Branwell. I was fortunate to see the original at the National Portrait Gallery in London. From left to right are Anne, Emily, and Charlotte. Branwell intentionally made his own image. erased from the middle of the painting...)
Emily has never been a person who pays attention to the changes in the world. She is not sensitive to everything around her like Charlotte or Annie. She is not kind and tolerant enough. She longs for eternal everything.
This longing for eternity is human nature, and Emily developed something so paranoid that she incorporated everything in nature, the most primitive instincts, into her understanding of eternity. She is calm enough about all things that others see as good, and the beauty in her eyes contains the prophecy of death:
"in my heartI can't understand my eyesWhy is it covered with dark cloudsto pay homage to the joys of the world"
Lockwood once said: "I can imagine that there is almost a lifelong love here; and I used to believe that there is any love that lasts a year." This sentence is about eternity throughout the novel. It seems trivial in his discourse, but it shows how an outsider can change himself and accept such eternity.
Emily shapes human emotions through the eternity of nature, replaces the ethics and emotions of the human world with the ethics and emotions of nature, and replaces the harmony of human beings with the harmony of nature (destruction and reconstruction).
The mapping of nature to the world, or so to speak: In order to prove the existence of eternal love in human beings, Emily appeals to the eternity of nature, and in her character contains all the elements of nature, when all of nature is When the worldly ways of the world are presented, Emily gets the eternal love in her heart, and this is also the process of Emily Bronte's own perception of eternity.
There seems to be no danger in this writing process, or that Emily must succeed in reaching her own conclusions, but she must face the question,
first of all, how does Emily let her characters replace the elements of nature (including ethics)? and emotion),
secondly, how the harmony in the world mirrors the harmony in nature, and then how to achieve the destruction and reconstruction of harmony in the vertical dimension in the latitude of time. The following will briefly describe the development process of such a theme, and also review the main outline of the novel.
(Old photo of the "Wuthering Heights" prototype)
Before 1771, Wuthering Heights was a relatively harmonious family. The Earnshaw family was an old farming family. Mr. Earnshaw and his wife had two children, Catherine and Hindley, as well as the old servant Joseph, the maid and the maid.
Daughter Nellie Ding lives together, the days are plain and happy. The novel did not elaborate on the specific circumstances of this life, but it still revealed a little clue when Earnshaw went out to ask the children what gifts they wanted:
"Hindley said he wanted a violin and asked Miss Katie (nickname for Catherine). She was not yet six years old, but she could ride any horse in the stable, so she picked up a whip. She also Didn't forget me (Nelly) because he had a kind heart, albeit a little harsh at times. He promised to bring me a sack of apples and pears..."
The violin naturally shows the good education that Hindley received since childhood, and the horsewhip is chosen by Catherine naturally means a kind of wildness in her body. Coupled with a good education, a contradictory character grows in her body like this.
Then an element of unease was introduced, and it was Heathcliff, the outcast brought back from Liverpool by Mr. Earnshaw, who brought the initial damage by crushing Hindley's violin and causing Mr. Earnshaw to lose Catherine's whip, although Heathcliff's arrival caused a series of destruction and people's hatred, Wuthering Heights at this time is still harmonious, and this harmony must be attributed to Mr.
Earnshaw's love, tolerance, and strictness, This somewhat godlike figure, and it is under the care of such a powerful force that the manor maintains harmony between conflicts, Hindley "has learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heath Cliff was regarded as a man who usurped his father's affection and his privileges." Catherine, who was headstrong and active, liked Heathcliff very much, "the worst thing to punish her was to separate them."
And Heathcliff is also not a completely sympathetic figure, some of his actions (such as taking advantage of Mr. Earnshaw's favor to rob Hindley's pony) are not worthy of admiration, he is a "melancholy, patient child, Maybe it has become stubborn because of abuse." At this point, some of the original images of nature are vaguely visible, but it is still not clear enough. What Emily hopes to express here is how the growth of children gradually fits into the nature of nature.
The first destruction of harmony was caused by the death of Mr. Earnshaw elder in 1777 when Hindley was 20 years old and studying at university, Catherine was 15 years old, and Heathcliff was about the same age. Although Earnshaw was fond of Heathcliff, he did not leave a will in his favor (which seems unreasonable) at the time of his death, and Hindley soon returned from college to take over everything at Wuthering Heights, And it certainly intensified the conflict between Hindley and Heathcliff.
Heathcliff was deprived of his due status and privileges such as education, which he should have also possessed. The harmony at this time, although briefly broken, was resolved by the tacit understanding between Catherine and Heathcliff: "At first the child could bear his downgrade because Katie taught him all she had learned. , and accompany him to work or play in the fields. They all wish to grow up like savage savages...
Running out of the morning into the wilderness and staying there all day has become one of their chief amusements, followed by punishment Instead, it’s a trivial matter.” So the first destruction did not really pose a real threat to “eternity”, but on the contrary, it was shaping the nature of Heathcliff, the battered but tenacious existence, like The immutable rock image.
( Photo of the prototype of " Thressoon Villa ")
The real destruction comes from the intervention of another force of nature, that is, the tranquility and warmth of nature represented by the Linton family of Thrushey Hills who was involved in an accidental incident. Obviously, Catherine was attracted by this natural force. She unconsciously accommodated the two conflicting forces of nature in her body.
This was the real source of her later pain. Harmony. On the one hand, Catherine accepted the reform plan of the Linton family and became a "very dignified person", but on the other hand, she still loved Heathcliff deeply, and she even longed for Heathcliff to be a harmonious person.
She is the same person as Linton! In Nelly's account, Catherine even developed a "dual personality", she did not understand at this time how the nature of nature cannot be changed, although Heathcliff tried to change herself to adapt to the news Catherine, all this must fail, and Heathcliff also does not really understand how the eternal element grows in the body at this time.
Such a hazy conflict is growing in their bodies, and Catherine is undoubtedly the most painful one among them. She really accepts the cruelty and warmth of nature. The seemingly primal feeling between Thorncliff) was destroyed by the intervention of Linton, and this was the real threat to eternal love, under the destruction of this initial harmony, the cruel side retreated, Heath Cliff sadly left Wuthering Heights after learning that Catherine had accepted Linton's proposal.
So far, a new peaceful harmony was formed between Linton and Catherine, but Catherine still contained a desire for the original power of nature. but was temporarily suppressed in a sweet and peaceful life. However, the weak and tolerant Linton must face his sad fate in such harmony, "I think, there is no way to save him, he is already doomed, and he is flying towards his fate!" It is also the ending set by Emily Bronte for this.
Of course, we have absolute reasons to believe that Catherine is Emily Bronte herself, and she is using Catherine to articulate her own cognitive process of eternity.
The establishment of a new harmony was based on Heathcliff's departure from home and Catherine's repression of wild and primitive impulses in her heart, and Edgar Linton at the same time showed enough tolerance and warmth to maintain such harmony, This period lasted for three years, 1780-1783, during which Heathcliff became a wealthy man who knew all kinds of tactics, and finally he came back, with his perfect character, like a wasteland. The temperament comes back to spoil it all.
He used gambling to win all of Hindley's property in Wuthering Heights and tortured him cruelly. As for the Linton family of Thrushey Heights, he mercilessly seduced Linton's sister into marriage. For Heathcliff, worldly ethics could never be Constraining him, for him, marriage is just a shortcut to obtaining the property of Thrushey Heights.
He has no mercy, and only the most primitive cruel force of nature is left, which is "a wilderness with gorse and rocks", All good things can be easily devoured, and Catherine's life in gentle nature has been completely destroyed, or Heathcliff called out the savage power in Catherine's heart, and Catherine really began to reflect on what she really needed:
"I thought, trying so hard to find out what it was. The strangest thing was that the last seven years of my life had gone blank! I can't remember if there was a time when I was a child, My father was only buried, and I began to grieve because Hindley ordered me to be separated from Heathcliff. . . Banished from the world, a wanderer.
You can imagine the abyss where I fell! . . . My heart is on fire! If only I were outside! If only I were a girl again, savage, stubborn, free, whatever Hurts only make me laugh, not drive me crazy!"
Catherine's thoughts gradually calmed her down. "She was looking at things around her. She seemed to be looking at things far away, far away—you could say she was looking out of the world." At the same time, Edgar Linton The force of nature and gentleness that he represented also gradually gave up the struggle, "because he was convinced that he was powerless."
A new harmony was gradually established, however, this new harmony could not be completed in a state of tranquility, that represented Heathcliff, the natural savage power, is still constantly impacting the harmony in Catherine's heart. Catherine accepts all this only through death, thus annihilating the battle between the two disparate forces in the world.
She was at last at peace, and in a violent fusion with the wasteland, "I shall surpass you beyond comparison, above all of you." With Catherine's passing, the broken harmony is re-established, and eternity is It was born in death, and from then on "there is an unending, shadowless faith--the eternity into which they entered--where life goes on infinitely, love infinitely harmonious, joy infinitely full."
However, the struggle between nature's cruelty and tranquility did not stop. Heathcliff and Linton still supported the two forces, and the new combination of strengths after Catherine's death was reflected again in the next generation. It was little Katie and little Linton and Hareton, the son of Hindley, who had been brought up by Heathcliff. Just as Katherine's bond between the two forces began to confront the first generation, little Katie leads a new confrontation.
Apparently, Emily Bronte poured new hope into little Katie. She is a combination of Linton and Catherine. She has the tolerance and kindness of the Linton family in her, and at the same time inherits her mother's "excessive sensitivity and kindness." Active heart, her anger is never violent; her love is never fiery, but deep and tender...and stubborn will."
This is obviously a hope of Emily Bronte, There is such a perfect combination in the world to realize her hope for human nature; Linton is a somewhat deformed combination, he is completely a strange fruit formed by the combination of natural cruelty and gentle force, he is extremely sensitive, fragile, Selfishness and ruthlessness, sensitivity and vulnerability are obviously from the Linton family and selfishness and ruthlessness are from the blood of Heathcliff.
Obviously here Emily Brontë had some expectations for the relationship between the two, however, The relationship between little Katie and little Linton failed completely. The reason was that what was lacking in Little Linton's body was an eternal element.
This eternal element was obviously not born, just like Heathcliff. Cruel and tenacious temperament comes from the hardships of the day after tomorrow, just like the eternal characteristics of the wasteland after being subjected to various natural ravages, otherwise, the evil in human nature will be transformed into extreme selfishness;
this is in Hareton. But it was really reflected in the body, Hareton had been forged by Heathcliff since he was a child, "We will see if the same wind blows and twists it, this tree will bend as another tree grows.
Heathcliff himself did not expect: "When I look for his father in his face, I find her day by day! Hell! How can Hareton look like her, I can't look at him." When a deformed fruit died, another hopeful figure was born.
This is Little Hareton, a child who grew up under the cruel abuse of Heathcliff but had a natural tenacity and gentle temperament at the same time.
Although Emily Brontë pinned on Katie and Hareton the hope of combining the secular and natural primordial temperament, only those two dead people really contained all Emily's love for eternity. The understanding is that the ghosts of Catherine and Heathcliff wander forever in the wasteland, rejecting heaven and the world, and truly integrating with nature.
So at the end of the article, the two endings are equally complete, one is the fusion of nature and the world, and the other is the eternal unity with nature.
The above are some of my views on the review and theme of "Wuthering Heights" and how this theme is unfolded and completed step by step in the novel. The most important part of the work's excellence lies in its tension. Everyone may have a different understanding, even in life. Different stages will also have different perceptions, and this is the real charm of literature.
In addition, there are more detailed discussions on Wuthering Heights, such as structure and narrative methods, philosophical and religious views, language characteristics, social background, secondary characters, and more details of the villa's architectural structure and geographical location, etc.
(The three sisters, published in 1846, chose pseudonyms: Cole Bell, Alice Bell, Acton Bell)
Below, I am attaching a poem I translated from Emily from Poem, published by the three sisters, Emily wrote this poem shortly before her death, and you can feel Some very different unique qualities of poets:
Never cowardly in my heartNever trembling in a frantic worldBecause of the glory and faith that shines in that kingdomI gain strength from aweGod is in my heartAlmighty and infinite GodLife——in the body although it stopsAnd I—eternal life—still in your heartThe countless illusory creedsOnce touched the hearts of the world to struggle at a lossBut it's as useless as dry weedsJust an empty bubble of infinite substanceYou have aroused doubts in someone's heartYour infinity holds her tightlythen certainly anchored atAmong her immortal and steadfast rocksin the arms of the broadest loveYour heart inspires eternitypervading and soothingEverything changes, persists, dissolves, creates and nurturesIf the earth and man disappearThe sun and the universe cease to functiononly you aloneKnow that everything is still in your heartthere is no deathNo particle can turn into nothingnessYou, you are all existence and lifeYour "yes" will never go outLostsong
Reading Notes & Analysis: "Wuthering Heights" by Emily Bronte
I like to read that wonderful preface, which can always give people a sense of enlightenment.
This book gave me the feeling that after reading it, my whole mood will be lost for a while, and I will not be able to calm down for a long time.
In particular, "Jane Eyre" and "Wuthering Heights" are like a pair of small but dazzling cat's eye gemstones. When people browse the British literary heritage of the nineteenth century, they can't help but be surprised to find that these are rare treasures. One of them is even more nostalgic and admirable, and people can't help but regret that this talented girl, if she hadn't died prematurely, how many brilliant chapters would have been left to nurture the readers' hearts!
The thirty years that Emily Bronte lived were a time of social upheaval in Britain. Capitalism is developing and increasingly revealing its inherent flaws; the contradiction between labor and capital is sharpening; the poverty of unemployed workers; a large number of child laborers are brutally tortured to death.
The family has always lived in isolation, and the four siblings often spend their lonely time reading, writing poetry, and making up legends. Charlotte and Branwell wrote their novels centered on the imaginary Anglian dynasty, while Emily and her younger sister Ann created a Pacific island they called Gondor to make up their stories.
Emily and her sisters often went for walks in the wilderness to the west. So on the one hand the Brontë sisters saw the capitalist society developing in the towns, and on the other hand, they were infected by the atmosphere of the wilderness. Emily in particular, she is taciturn on the outside but passionate on the inside.
The family has very little income and is quite financially strapped. The three sisters had to often go out to make a living and supplemented their families by teaching or working as tutors. They suffered hardships and setbacks for several years. Charlotte had planned on opening a school of their own, so she and Emily went to Brussels to study for a year, before leaving when Charlotte broke up. In 1846 they raised their own funds and published a collection of poems under false names.
Their only brother, Branwell, also contracted lung disease due to long-term alcohol and drug addiction.
This extremely talented young female writer, who was later famous in the world of literature, regretted leaving the world where she could only taste indifference.
I'm the only one, doomed
No one cares, no one weeps;
Since I was born, it has never caused
A gleam of worry, a happy smile.
In secret joys, secret tears,
This ever-changing life just slipped by,
Eighteen years later still helpless,
As lonely as the day I was born. …
At first, the hope of youth was melted,
Then the phantom rainbow quickly recedes;
So experience tells me, to tell the truth
Never grow up in the human heart.
But she wanted to cheer up and make a difference, but she couldn't. This painful ideological struggle and near despair can also be found in her poems from the same period:
But now when I wish to sing,
My fingers plucked a soundless string;
And the refrain of the lyrics is still
'Stop fighting,' all in vain.
The servants watched on, knowing what the suffocating rapid breathing and dull eyes certainly meant.
Among them, Emily Bronte's poems say that the extraordinary enthusiasm, strong emotion, sadness, and boldness in her heart have been unmatched since Byron's death.
"Wuthering Heights" expresses the spiritual oppression, tension, and conflict of people in the capitalist society of the nineteenth century in the form of artistic imagination. It is a film without idealism, without false consolation, and without any suggestion that the forces that manipulate their destiny are beyond the struggle and action of human beings themselves.
A powerful call to nature, wilderness, storms, stars, and seasons is an important part of the true movement to reveal life itself. The men and women of Wuthering Heights are not prisoners of nature, they live in the world and try to change it.
In that painting was a view of a dark, barren land under dark clouds, haggard figures staggered to and fro by the rumble of thunder, bewildered by emotion, not of earthly nature, and they held their breaths. write. A flash of lightning flashed across the lead-colored sky, adding a final touch to the scene, adding a sense of mysterious horror.
The social tragedy of Heathcliff and Catherine is that Catherine realizes the disparity of their social status, but fantasizes that by using the wealth of the Lintons she admires to "help Heathcliff rise", her brother "has no power." question".
This was of course impossible, as was evident from the fact that when Heathcliff reappeared later, Linton suggested that he be seated in the kitchen rather than in the living room. This made a big mistake, and she fell into a snare that she spun with her own hands.
He was rejected by the private ownership society, but still used the struggle methods of the private ownership society to resist. He had no property, but he plundered it and became the owner of the manor; he was mocked, belittled, and reviled by Hindley since he was a child, and was reduced to the status of a servant of a country bumpkin, and a few years later he returned to his own way His son retaliates, and as a result, his victory must equal his own spiritual defeat. The way of revenge must only lead to loneliness and emptiness!
Catherine's lonely soul wandered and cried in the wilderness, waiting for Heathcliff. Finally, Heathcliff passed away. Their souls were no longer alone. They walked in the wilderness and under the rocks in the dark night... is nonsense.
Their unconquerable and unswerving love is also a stubborn resistance to the old era in which they were manipulated by evil forces. Although their resistance is passive and powerless, their love is The author's writing finally overcomes death and reaches the realm of sublimation.
The talented female writer Emily Brontë will forever shine a unique and splendid brilliance in the splendid constellation of British nineteenth-century literature because of her only work!
This timetable is too critical. This book is written out of order, and reading it without clearing your mind will be a complete mess.
# Chapter 1
Can you imagine that this is described by a girl who has never been in love?!
However, if the look can convey affection, even a fool can guess that I love her desperately. Later, she understood what I meant, and sent me back with an apocalypse—the sweetest of all imaginable longings. what should I do? I repented in shame—shrinking coldly, like a snail; the more she looked at me, the colder and farther I shrank.
Until at last the poor innocent child had to doubt her own feelings, and she thought she had guessed wrong and was so perplexed that she persuaded her mother to withdraw from the camp. I have a reputation for being ruthless because of my eccentric behavior; how wrong it is, that only I can understand.
In the whole of England, I do not believe that I can find such a place completely cut off from the hustle and bustle of the world, an ideal paradise for the world-weary.
This "come in" was uttered through gritted teeth, expressing the emotion: "Damn!" Even the door he was leaning against moved without showing sympathy for the promise; I think circumstances dictated my acceptance Such an invitation: I am interested in someone who seems to be more eccentric than me.
"Whistling" is a meaningful inland adjective for the barometric turbulence that this place experiences in stormy weather. Indeed, there must be an air of invigorating purity that circulates here at all times.
At the far end of the house, there were a few dwarf fir trees that were over-sloping, and the thin row of thorns stretched their branches in one direction, as if begging the sun for warmth, and one could guess the power of the north wind.
I would have liked to say a word or two and ask the arrogant owner a brief history of this place, but from the way he stood at the door, it seemed that he wanted me to hurry in or leave, while I was visiting The interior didn't want to increase his impatience before either.
In the large fireplace, I saw no traces of cooking or baking, and no copper pans and tin colanders and the like were glistening on the walls.
I knew intuitively that his indifference was due to a distaste for affectation—to show affection for each other.
In order to kill this moment of silence, I want to rub the bitch. It had just left the brood and was sneaking fiercely behind my legs, grinning and saliva on its white teeth. My caress caused a long screeching sound from my throat. "You'd better ignore the dog," growled Mr. Heathcliff in the same tone, stomping his foot in a warning. "He's not used to being pampered - he's not kept as a plaything."
The dog, along with the bitch, watched and watched my every move. Not wanting to deal with the canine teeth, I sat still; however, I thought they would not understand silent contempt, and unfortunately, I winked and grimaced at the three dogs.
Heathcliff and his servants climbed the steps of the cellar with irritable languid steps: I don't think they walked a second faster than usual, though the fireside had been biting and barking. chaos.
Thankfully someone from the kitchen trotted up: a sturdy woman in a rolled-up dress, with bare arms and red cheeks, waving a frying pan into our midst—and using that weapon and her tongue quite effectively, Miraculously calmed the storm. When her master came on stage, she was panting like an ocean that was still undulating after the strong wind.
# Chapter 2
Her forehead wrinkled, her red lower lip pouted, as if a child was about to cry.
Standing in front of the fire, looking at me out of the corner of my eye, as if we had some unfinished feud.
However, his manner was casual, almost arrogant, and there was none of the prudence and industriousness of a domestic servant serving his mistress.
There was an air of mocking malice in the beautiful eyes of the little witch.
I said a lot of incoherent, intimidating, vengeful words, in a vicious, King Lear style.
# Chapter 3
There they were, like two little kids, kissing and bullshitting the whole hour—that stupid sweet talk that we should be ashamed of.
Ah, how weary I am! How I writhe, yawn, doze, and wake up again! How I pinch myself, poke myself, rub my eyes, stand up, sit down again.
The terror of the nightmare overwhelmed me, and I tried to withdraw my arm, but the handheld was on, and a very melancholy voice sobbed: "Let me in—let me in!"
Heathcliff stood in the doorway, in his shirt and trousers, holding a candle, the oil dripping down his fingers, as pale as the wall behind him. The first crack of the oak door made him feel like he was electrocuted. But, listening to his irregular breathless breathing, I guess he was trying desperately to refrain from overly strong emotions.
Only the wind and snow blew violently and rapidly, even to where I was standing, and blew out the candles. In this sudden outpouring of grief, there was such anguish to accompany this maddening remark, that my pity for him blinded me to the folly of his manner.
On the other hand, I was disturbed by my own telling of my absurd nightmare, because it was the dream that produced this grief.
As soon as the dawn broke, I seized the opportunity to escape into the free air outside, which was now crisp, quiet, and cold as an invisible block of ice.
I was in my study again, weak as a kitten, barely able to enjoy the fire and the steaming coffee that the servants had prepared to refresh me.
# Chapter 4
He appeared to be a melancholy, patient child, perhaps hardened by abuse. He could endure Hindley's fist without blinking or shedding a single tear. I pinched him, and he just took a breath and opened his eyes, as if he accidentally hurt himself, no one can blame him. This resignation made old Earnshaw angry when he found out that his son had abused his so-called poor orphan in this way.
Katie and her brother were grinding me to death, and he was like a lamb with no complaints—though he didn't bother people out of tenacity, not generosity.
As far as I can remember, the child never showed any gratitude in return for his favor. He wasn't rude to his benefactor, he was just casual.
# Chapter 5
He was active and healthy, but his energy suddenly disappeared from him. When he could only stay in the corner of the fireplace, he became sadly irritable. The little things upset him, and he was maddened by the suspicion that they were undermining his prestige. Earnshaw was especially annoyed if someone tried to embarrass or bully his darling.
That kind of accommodating can greatly nourish the child's pride and eccentricity. She can impatient all of us more than fifty times a day, and from the time she goes downstairs to the time she goes to bed, she is so mischievous that we do not have a minute of peace.
She was always in high spirits, and her tongue kept moving—singing, laughing, entangled in anyone who didn’t get along with her, what a wild and bad little girl. Having said that, I believe that she is not malicious, because once she really makes you cry, she rarely does not cry with you, and makes you have to calm down and comfort her.
When playing, she especially likes to be a little housewife, doing this and that willfully, and giving orders to her companions. She didn't understand why her father was more grumpy and less patient when he was weak than when he was in his prime. His grumpy reproach aroused her desire to be amused, and deliberately angered her father. She was most pleased when we scolded her together, and she confronted us with a bold, rude air and witty words.
He died peacefully on the fireside chair one night in October. The wind roared around the house and roared in the chimney. It sounded violent and violent, but it was not cold. These two little souls are comforting each other with better thoughts than I can think of: there is no priest in the world who can paint heaven as beautifully as they paint it in their own innocent words.
# Chapter 6
She was rather thin, but young, with a good complexion, and her eyes shone like jewels. I did notice that she was short of breath as she went upstairs, shivering at the slightest sudden noise, and sometimes coughing very annoyingly. But I have no idea what these diseases portend.
Running out into the wilderness early in the morning and staying there all day had become one of their main entertainments, and the punishment that followed became a laughable little thing.
Though the curate had left as many chapters as he wanted for Catherine to recite, and though Joseph had beaten Heathcliff to his arm, as long as they got together again, or at least the minute they hatched some naughty plan of revenge, They forget everything. How many times have I seen them messing around with each other day by day, and I have to cry myself, and I dare not say a word, lest I lose the little power I still have over these two unaccompanied little guys.
The whole family went to bed, and I was too anxious to lie down, so I opened my window and stretched out my head to listen. Although it was raining, I decided that as long as they came back, I would ignore the ban and let them in. After a while, I heard footsteps on the road, and the light of a lantern flashed through the gate.
Lying at the other end of the room, screaming as if a witch had stabbed her with red-hot needles.
There was a little spark of life in the dull blue eyes of the Lintons--a faint reflection of her own charming face. I see them all showing a dull admiration.
# Chapter 7
She was no longer a little savage without a hat jumping into the house and rushing over to hug us all out of breath, but a very demure person with brown curls from a beautiful little black horse. A feathered beaver skin hat hung down, and a long cloth riding suit was worn. She had to carry the dress with both hands in order to walk in gracefully.
Not to mention his three-month-old suit of mud and dirt, and his thick hair, which he never combed, even his face and hands were covered in black. He saw such a beautiful and refined lady come into the room, not the disheveled one he had expected, and he had to hide behind a high-backed chair.
It was a pleasure to see him in a state of embarrassment, and contentment to see that he would have to appear as a loathsome little rascal.
She had reason to ask the question, because shame and pride cast a double shadow on his face, immobilizing him.
When he had finished, he rushed out of the house, to the delight of the master and the mistress, while Catherine was very disturbed; she could not understand how her words had caused such an outburst of bad temper.
So I am left here alone. I smell the rich aroma of overripe spices, admire the shiny kitchen utensils, the polished clocks adorned with holly leaves, the silver basins lining the plate - they're ready to be poured at dinner Spiced ale. What I appreciate the most is the thing that I take extra care to scrub clean and flawless, the floor that has been washed and swept.
I sang and cried. But after a while, I suddenly thought that it would be more meaningful to make up for his grievances than to cry over these things. Yeah, you have a reason to go to bed with a proud heart and an empty stomach. Just do it with sincerity and don't think she's a stranger in nice clothes.
He is like a doll. You are smaller than him, but I can tell that you are taller and your shoulders are twice as wide as he is, and you can knock him down in the blink of an eye. Even if I knocked him down twenty times, it wouldn't make him less beautiful or make me more beautiful. I wish I had light hair, fair skin, dressed and behaved like him, and had a chance to be as rich as he will be in the future!
He said this without insulting his thoughts. But Heathcliff's violent temper was not prepared to endure the arrogance of a man whom he seemed at that time to hate even as a rival.
She took a bite into her mouth, then put it down again. Her face was flushed and tears were pouring out. She slid the fork to the floor and hurried under the tablecloth to hide her feelings.
You have to develop your ability to think because you don't have to spend your life on silly trivia.
# Chapter 8
As for himself, he has become desperate, and his sorrow is the kind that cannot be cried. He does not cry or pray. He cursed and scorned, hated God and man, and lived a life of wanton debauchery. The servants could not stand his tyranny and soon all left.
At that time, the child seemed to be possessed by the devil. He watched with schadenfreude as Hindley was hopelessly degraded, and the savage stubbornness and brutality became more and more conspicuous day by day.
She really turned into an arrogant and willful stunner! Since her childhood has passed, I admit that I dislike her; I have often annoyed her in order to get rid of her arrogant temper, although she has never taken a disgusting attitude toward me. She maintains a queer reluctance to part with the things she used to love.
She was reluctant to show her rude side, and there she was met with gentle manners, so she knew that being rude was shameful.
In the place where she heard Heathcliff referred to as "a nasty little rascal" and "worse than a beast", she took care not to behave like him. But at home, she has no intention to use the kind of politeness that will only be laughed at, and she has no intention of restraining her unruly nature because restraint will not bring her prestige and praise.
And when Linton expressed disgust at Heathcliff and was incompatible, she did not dare to treat his feelings indifferently, as if her companion had nothing to do with her. I always laugh at her confusion and unspeakable troubles.
The education he had received in his early years had by then ceased to work for him, and the continual drudgery, waking up early and going to bed late, had extinguished the curiosity he had once had in the pursuit of knowledge, and any interest in books or learning. favorite.
After a long effort to maintain an equal position with Catherine in her studies, she finally gave up with silent and bitter regret. When he found that he had to, and inevitably, sank below his previous level, no one could persuade him to take a step up.
Then the outward appearance of a man echoes the depravity of the heart: he acquires a languid manner of walking and an unseemly air; his natural taciturn temperament enlarges into an almost demented, inhumane Ill temper.
It can be seen that her two friends have very different temperaments. It's as if you've just finished watching a desolate, hilly coal-producing region and then switched to a beautiful, fertile valley.
He has a pleasant low voice and speaks like you do. It's not so harsh, but softer than what we're talking about here.
She stomped her feet, hesitated for a while, and then, unable to resist her stubborn emotion, slapped me so hard that my eyes were filled with tears.
The insulted guest went to where he had put his hat, pale and quivering.
Has broken the stronghold of the timidity of the young, and made them abandon the pretense of friendship and admit that they are lovers
# Chapter 9
Girls are always self-righteous and never discuss. She kept wandering back and forth from the gate to the door of the house, she was so excited that she refused to rest for a moment, and finally stood still by a wall near the road.
There, against my advice, against the rumble of thunder and the rain that began to crash all around her, she just stood there, shouting now and then, listening again, and bursting into tears.
There is a sense of horror at encountering his beastly affection or madman's rage because in the former case he has a chance of being squeezed or kissed to death, and in the other, He had another chance of being thrown into a fire or slammed into a wall.
That look could express that profound agony more clearly than words, for he had become an instrument to thwart his own vengeance.
I wonder why his mother didn't get up from her grave and see how you treated him. You are worse than a heretic - treat your own flesh like this!
He wanted to touch the child. As soon as the child found out that he was following me, he immediately vented his horror and burst into tears. But as soon as his father's fingers touched him, he screamed again, higher than before, and struggled as if he were about to scare the wind.
I love the ground under his feet, the sky above his head, everything he touches, and every word he utters. I love all of his expressions and all of his movements and the whole of him.
She sat down next to me again, her air becoming more sad and serious, her clasped hands shaking.
These dreams passed through me like wine flowing in the water, changing the color of my heart.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are one and the same; and Linton's soul, like moonlight and lightning, or frost and fire, is quite different.
She kept wandering back and forth from the gate to the door of the house, she was so excited that she refused to rest for a moment, and finally stood still by a wall near the road. There, against my advice, against the rumble of thunder and the rain that began to crash all around her, she just stood there, shouting now and then, listening again, and bursting into tears.
The storm rumbled violently on the top of the villa. There was a gust of wind and a thunderstorm. I don't know if it was the wind or the thunder that knocked down a tree in the corner of the house. She was soaking wet from her stubborn refusal to take shelter from the rain.
The morning air was fresh and cool, I opened the window, and the house was immediately filled with the sweet aroma from the garden.
# Chapter 10
She repaid him with so many sweet words and made the whole family feel like heaven for several days, and both the master and the servant benefited greatly from this endless sunshine.
He also retains much of the reticence that had been evident in his childhood, and that reticence could just suppress all the astonishing manifestations of emotion.
Expressed a sudden and irresistible affection. She was then a charming young lady of eighteen, still boyish in manner, though of keen intellect.
Please don't delusionally think that he has kindness and love deeply buried under a grim exterior! He was not a rough diamond—a pearly mussel among the country folks—but a vicious, ruthless, wolf-like man.
I just saw him smiling - almost grinning - and sinking into sinister meditation.
His visit was a constant nightmare to me and, I guess, my master. He's living in the villa became inexplicable oppression. I felt that God had left the lost lamb there and let it roam, while a beast lingered secretly between the sheep and the pen, waiting for an opportunity to jump up and destroy it.
# Chapter 11
He swears like that with sophistication, a vicious tone, and twists his baby face into startling wickedness. You would believe that this look makes me angry and makes me more miserable. I almost cried.
Your presence is a moral poison that can defile the most virtuous.
After constantly pampering the weak nature of this one and the wicked nature of that one, in the end, I was rewarded with two kinds of blind ingratitude, absurdly stupid! They were so bewildered that it bordered on absurdity.
I have been very cautious, lest I irritate myself. You must explain the dangers of giving up this strategy, and remind him of my irritability, which will drive him mad if he gets into trouble. I hope you can remove that cold, unfeeling look from your face and show me a little concern.
Your cold blood cannot heat up, and your blood vessels are full of ice water. But my blood is boiling. Seeing your cold and inhuman appearance makes my blood boil.
# Chapter 12
Her brother buried himself in the piles of books he had never opened - I guess he was desperately hoping that Catherine would regret her actions and would automatically ask for forgiveness and reconciliation - and she was tenacious. He went on a hunger strike, probably thinking that Edgar couldn't swallow at every meal when he saw her absent, and it was only because he was proud that he didn't come and kneel at her feet.
I was still busy with my housework, convinced that there was only one sober soul within the walls of the Grange, and that soul was in my body. I do not overuse consolation with my lady, nor counsel with my mistress; nor do I pay much attention to my master's sighs. Despite her ghostly face and eccentric exaggeration, I kept my outward calm.
She tossed and turned, feverish, coma, and even crazy, biting the pillow with her teeth, and then she stood up hot and asked me to open the window. Her mind had wandered to other associations. I took her hand and told her to calm down, for she was staring at the mirror as the tremors made her cramp.
She shuddered and panicked, and held me tight, but the terror gradually disappeared from her face; the paleness disappeared, and a blush of shame appeared. And the wind howled among the fir trees outside the window. Let me feel the wind - it's blowing straight from the wilderness - let me take a breath!
# Chapter 13
They remind me of gentle warm winds, warm sunshine, and melting snow.
He did not hesitate to give her the tenderest caress and to please her with the most affectionate words. However, she stared blankly at the flower, tears gathering on her eyelashes and running down her cheeks.
Is Heathcliff human? If so, is he crazy? If not, is he a devil? Staring like a hungry wolf.
My companion was still pacing back and forth, his head down to his chest, and he was completely silent, save for the occasional groan or a bitter sigh.
He was clearly on the verge of madness, glaring at me defiantly as he drooled into the jar.
# Chapter 14
Think of me as a legendary hero hoping for endless pampering from my heroic devotion. I just can't think of her as a rational person who is so stubbornly holding onto an absurd view of my character and acting on the false impressions she has nurtured.
She had an inner admiration for that cruelty! Yeah, isn't it absurd for that poor, servile, nasty bitch - pure idiot - to dream that I could love her! I tested what she could bear, and she always crawled back shyly and flatteringly.
# Chapter 15
A book was placed on the windowsill in front of her, open, and the pages were swaying in the almost imperceptible wind.
She understood his purpose, and when she was in a better mood, she gently listened to his manipulations; only from time to time a weary sigh was pressed down to show that it was useless, and at last, he was stopped with the most miserable smiles and kisses.
The murmur of water from the swollen stream in the valley was very pleasant. This beautiful sound replaces the rustling of summer leaves that has not yet come.
But she had that dazed, elusive air I mentioned before, which showed that her ears or eyes could hardly discern anything from the outside world.
This was the first sentence he uttered, and the tone didn't try to hide his desperation. Now he's staring at her so eagerly, his gaze is so intense, I think he'll cry. But the eyes were burning with excruciating pain: not tears.
To a dispassionate onlooker, the two formed a bizarre and terrifying picture.
On her present face, those white cheeks, bloodless lips, and twinkling eyes all showed wild revenge.
Did you expect all these words to be etched into my memory, and to bite me deeper forever after you left me?
When you rest, I am tormented in hell, isn't that enough to satisfy your vicious selfishness?
After a moment of silence and a long stare, she spoke again; with a tone of indignant disappointment.
He just gritted his teeth at me, foamed like a mad dog, and hugged her tightly with a look of greedy jealousy.
He tried to get up, to let go of her fingers - but she held her tightly, gasping for breath: a frenzied determination on her face.
# Chapter 16
You say I hurt you - then, pester me! The victim was haunting his murderer. I believe - I know that ghosts roam the world. Then follow me forever - in any form - drive me crazy! Just don't leave me in this abyss, I can't find you here!
In the early morning, quietly through the curtains of this silent room, a pleasant and soft light shone on the couch and the person sleeping on it. But his face was quiet after extreme grief, and she was truly quiet. Her features are soft, with closed eyelids and a smiling expression on her lips. I, too, was struck by the infinite serenity of her sleep: never was my state of mind more sacred than when I gazed upon the carefree face of this holy rest.
Life is infinitely continuous, love is infinitely harmonious, and joy is infinitely full. One may wonder whether she deserves a peaceful resting place at the end of her life after a life of willfulness and impatience. His hair was wet with the dew that gathered on the budding branches, and it was dripping all around him.
He rammed his head against the gnarled trunk; raised his eyes, and roared, not like a man, but like a beast stabbed to death by knives and spears. I saw several bloodstains on the bark, and blood on his hands and forehead; presumably what I had seen with my own eyes had been repeated several times during the night.
Before the funeral, her coffin had not been closed, sprinkled with flowers and fragrant leaves, and parked in the hall. Linton was there day and night, a sleepless defender.
Impressed by his tenacity, I gave him a chance to say a final goodbye to the faded face of his idol. He didn't miss the opportunity, cautiously and quickly.
# Chapter 17
It was hard to imagine that it had been summer for three weeks: primroses and crocuses hid under the snow, larks were silent, and the shoots of young trees were blackened. How bleak, cold, and gloomy the morning went by slowly!
The blouse was made of thin silk, which was wetted against her body, and only thin slippers protected her feet; in addition, there was a deep scar under one ear, and it was only because of the cold weather that the excessive bleeding was stopped. , a white face that has been caught and beaten, a body that is too tired to support.
He had been made by me to have thrown away the diabolical caution he boasted and was about to commit a violent murder. I experienced a thrill at the thought of being able to provoke him; it awakened my instinct to preserve myself.
He got up, but he was suicidal, as unfit for the church as for dancing; he didn't go anywhere, and sat by the fire, swallowing big glasses of soju or brandy go down.
It was snowing heavily outside, and my thoughts kept turning to the cemetery and the newly built grave, and it seemed miserable to go upstairs! Just as my eyes darted to lift from the page in front of me, the melancholy vision immediately took its place.
There was no sound inside or outside the house, only the whimpering wind shaking the windows from time to time, the soft cracking of coal, and the sound of candle scissors when cutting the long heart of the candle. At last, the gloomy silence was broken by the sound of the kitchen latch.
His forehead, which I once thought was manly, now I felt it had grown very vicious and was covered with a thick cloud; his monstrous eyes were dying from lack of sleep, and perhaps from weeping, For the eyelashes were wet; his lips lost their wicked sneer, but were sealed with an expression of indescribable sadness.
When he was weak was the only time when I could taste the joy of retribution.
# Chapter 18
He stared at her with great curiosity and astonishment; she was eloquent, talking and asking, but he understood very little.
He doesn't have the cowardly sensibility that invites sadism. Heathcliff used his malice to bring him up into a brutish man who was never taught to read or write; never rebuked for any bad habit which did not disturb his master; never to be led. He took a step toward virtue or never had a single instruction against vice.
In the Grange, everyone always called her "love", "baby", "queen", and "angel", and now she was so horribly insulted by a stranger!
# Chapter 19
Looking regretfully at my companion's pale features and slender bones, and his large, lifeless eyes--his mother's eyes, only, with a morbid restlessness that occasionally lights them up, They didn't have any trace of her gleaming gleam at all.
The result must be this one swearing, and the other crying and breaking up.
She kissed him furiously. They stared at each other, amazed by the changes time had made in each other's appearance.
Linton's air and movements were very inactive, and he was very thin in appearance, but these defects were moderated by his demeanor with refinement.
He could never be freed from his brutish ignorance. I held him tighter than his rascal father, and degraded him less; for he was proud of his savagery. I taught him to laugh at everything other than bestiality as stupid and weak.
My son is worthless. But I have the ability to try to cheer up this kind of shit. His son had a first-class talent, but was wasted, and became worse than useless.
His face was red with anger and shame.
As soon as the boy discussed Hareton's faults and faults, and recounted his anecdotes and anecdotes, his spirit came; and the little girl loved to hear his rude words, and did not think about the maliciousness shown.
A grumpy little patient who was barely struggling in his teenage years.
She complained, an unhappy look, and she kept rubbing her eyes, she looked absolutely drowsy.
He wants everything to be in a quiet ecstasy; I want everything to sparkle and dance in radiant joy.
Every breath blowing from the mountain is so full of life, as if no matter who inhales it, even the dying will be resurrected.
# Chapter 20
I dreamed that I had my last sleep leaning against the sleeper, my heart stopped beating, and my face was icy against hers. You know I went mad after her death; every day, every day, I'm forever praying for her soul to come back to me! I seem to feel that the sighing heating has replaced the wind with rain and snow.
I know that there are no living things of flesh and blood around me; but, just as one senses a living being approaching in the dark, one cannot discern what it is. Or even rest her lovely head on my pillow like she did when she was a kid. And I had to open my eyes and see. So I open and close my eyes a hundred times in one night - always disappointed!
Like an icicle, cold and unattainable like a princess. I got up and gave her the armchair I was sitting in. No, she turned her nose up at my hospitality.
I would not like these books to be corrupted and blasphemed in his mouth! Besides, he just selected some of my favorites to recite from all the books, as if he was deliberately messing up.
His chest rose and fell silently: he was struggling with a severe sense of humiliation and anger, and it was not easy to suppress. I got up and, in a noble thought to relieve his embarrassment, stood at the door and looked out at the scenery. She opened a book that was apparently flipped over a lot, read a paragraph in a beginner's lingering tone, then laughed, and threw the book away. "Listen," she said defiantly and began to recite an old ballad in the same tone.
The shame he felt for her contempt, and the desire to gain her approval, was his original motivation for striving for improvement.
My nostrils helped me discover another thing, a scent of violets and vanilla wafting into the air from those gracious fruit groves. Spring came and shut her up in small confines, which made her very angry.
"I have nothing to do with you, your stinky air, and your tricks of teasing!" he replied, "I'd rather go to hell with my body and soul than look at you again." His face was gloomy Furious like a cloud of thunder and lightning, he firmly clenched his fists and stared at the ground.
Biting her lip, she tried to hum an odd tune to hide her growing tendency to cry.
I linger in front of these three tombstones under that mild sky! Watching moths flutter among the heather and orchid, and listening to the soft wind blowing among the grass, I wonder who could have imagined the restless sleep of those who sleep beneath that peaceful land.
It was so annoying to lie there, with a hundred unfounded worries plaguing my mind.
I couldn't think he was dead: but his face and throat were washed with rain; the sheets were dripping, and he didn't move. The window banged back and forth, wiping a hand on the sill; there was no blood coming out of the broken skin, I touched it with my finger, and I could no longer doubt it; he was dead and stiff! I wanted to kill that horrible, living, ecstatic stare before anyone else came to see it.
The eyes couldn't close; they seemed like an attempt to laugh at me; so did his parted lips and sharp white teeth! I felt timid again. This horrific event made me dizzy; I inevitably recalled the old days with a repressed sadness. He sat beside the corpse all night, weeping sincerely. He took his hand and kissed the sarcastic, cruel face that no one dared to look at.
He mourned him with the intense grief that flowed naturally from a generous heart, though that heart was as tough as steel. I linger in front of these three tombstones under that mild sky! Watching moths flutter among the heather and orchid, and listening to the soft wind blowing among the grass, I wonder who could have imagined the restless sleep of those who sleep beneath that peaceful land...
Classic Quotes from "Wuthering Heights":
1. I gave him my heart, but he took it and crushed it to death, then threw my broken heart back to me.
2. Your argument is like asking a person to rest for a while when he is struggling in the water and is almost able to reach the shore! I have to go ashore first and then rest.
3. You know that I will never forget you as long as I live! When you rest, I am tormented in hell, isn't that enough to satisfy your vicious selfishness?
4. After many years, would you say that that is her tomb, I used to love her, I was very sad when I lost her, but that was a long time ago, I now feel that these children of mine and my Wife are more precious than she is, and when I die, I will not be very happy to go to her, I will be sad to leave my wife and these children...
5. If you still exist in this world / then no matter what this world / is meaningful to me / if you are gone / no matter how beautiful the world / it is just a desert in my eyes
6. I love the ground under his feet, the air above his head, everything he touches, every word he says, all his looks, every movement, his whole being, his all.
7. I believe that people have souls after death, because I killed you, so you can come to me so that we can be together again.
8. I said his heaven was only half alive, but he said mine was too noisy, like a drunk. I said I'll be drowsy as soon as I get to his heaven. My heaven suffocates him, he said.
9. Get up! Don't let yourself degenerate into a lowly reptile.
10. A gentle and generous person is just a little bit more selfish than an arrogant and domineering person. When various circumstances make both people feel that the interests of one party are not the main concern in the other's mind, happiness will end.
11. You are so strong, you let time stand still here, just now! May you and I, like this wilderness, never change!
12. I love him so much, not because he is handsome, but because he is more like me than me. No matter what our soul is made of, his and mine are exactly the same.
13. The passage of time brought him a resignation to fate and a contemplation sweeter than ordinary joy.
14. My love for Edgar is like the leaves in the woods. When winter changes the trees, the leaves change with them. My love for Heathcliff is like an unchanging rock underground... I love Heathcliff! He is in my heart all the time, not as a pleasure, but as a part of me.
15. Heaven is not my home. After tears and heartbreak, I want to return to the world.
16. Nothing can stop the burning passion, including death.
17. When I forget you, I also forget myself.
18. He is not as a pleasure, not necessarily more interesting than I am to me, but exists as myself.
19. Who could have imagined that the long sleepers under that peaceful land would have restless sleep.
20. The whole world has become an amazing collection of souvenirs, reminding me that she existed and that I have lost her!
21. In my life, he is my strongest miss. If all else perished and he remained, I could go on; if all else remained and he perished, the world would be a very foreign place to me. I wouldn't be like a part of it.
22. I can forgive those who hurt me, but what about those who hurt you? How can I forgive!
23. It is God's business to punish the wicked, and we should learn to forgive.
24. You have reason to go to bed with a proud heart and an empty belly. Proud people ask for their troubles, but if you feel uneasy about your narrow-mindedness, then you must ask for forgiveness.
25. See a world from a grain of sand, and a paradise from a wildflower.
26. What you hold in your hand is infinity, and eternity dissolves in one hour.
27. Life is a series of happy times, and we don't just survive to survive.
29. I love you not because of who you are, but because I like how I feel when I am with you.
30. No one is worth your tears. Someone who deserves what you do won't make you cry.
31. The worst thing about losing someone is that he is close by, but seems to be far away.
32. To the world, you are a person; but to someone, you are his whole world.
33. Even if you are sad, don't frown, because you don't know who will fall in love with your smile.
34. Don't waste your time on those who don't want to spend time with you.
35. If people who love you don't love you the way you want, it doesn't mean they don't love you with all their heart.
36. Don't cry because it's over. Smile for what you once had.
37. Forever forever, never-ending.
38. Life is a pure flame, we rely on the invisible sun on in our hearts to exist.
39. I give you my heart, you crush it and throw it back. -
40. You leveled my palace, built me a thatched hut, and admired your kindness contentedly.
41. Every night I pray to God to let me die later than he; for I would rather be unhappy myself than unhappy for him. This proves that I love him more than I love myself---
42. The ghost does not respond, only the storm is howling
43. All my pain in this world is also your pain. These pains are innate to me, and the main purpose of my life is to care about you. Even if everything is lost, and only you remain, I will continue to exist; and if everything remains and you disappear, then this universe means nothing to me, and I am no longer its part. My love for him is like a leaf on a tree that doesn't last long and withers as soon as winter comes; my love for you is like a rock in the ground that never changes. You are the source of all my happiness and the backbone of my life.
44. I really want to stay in that splendid world, never worry middle.
45. If there is a way of revenge that will not affect me, of course, I am happy. But conspiracy and violence are two pointed spears, and they can also stab those who use them and hurt more than their enemies. --Emily Bronte
46. That's a strange way of killing: not every inch, but every inch of hair like a hair, and for 18 years to lure me with a ghost-like hope!
47. Only loneliness is truly one's own.
48. Fear makes me cruel.
49. One might suspect that he was arrogant and disrespectful due to some degree of lack of education, but deep down I felt sympathy that he was not such a person. I knew firsthand that his indifference was due to an aversion to tenderness—a feeling of mutual affection. He covers up both his love and hate.
50. If you've ever had real sadness, you'd feel ashamed that you shed tears for this little awkwardness. You never had a shadow of true grief
51. Don't leave me in hell without you.
52. Good things are buried in a piece of weeds. When the weeds grow, they overwhelm their unappreciated growth.
53. In the end, we are always for ourselves. A gentle and generous person is only a little bit more selfish and fair than an arrogant and domineering person, and happiness will end when both people feel that the interests of the other are not the concern of the other.
54. Black, black, is the color of my lover's hair.
55. The tyrant oppresses his slaves, and the slaves do not rise up to resist, but oppress those who are lower than them. I'm willing to let you torture me to death just to make you happy, just allow me to have some fun for myself in the same way. Now that you have razed my palace to the ground, don't give me another hut as a reward to my writer, and proudly boast of your good deeds.
56. Likes will bring people good luck, so give a like and go!