Weathering Wuthering Heights

I swear that there is a Friends reference for any situation you encounter in life. I’ve been saying it for years! And well, the show was on for 10 seasons so it only makes sense that they were able to cover a lot of situations and issues. You want proof? Well, I’ve already referenced friends once on this blog and I’m about to do it again.  Without further ado, the one that relates to Wuthering Heights:

Now that I’ve read the novel I see that Phoebe was indeed correct. The wildness of the moors do mirror the wildness of Heathcliff’s character. The symbolism isn’t subtle and Heathcliff’s character presents little else to land upon. 

Now, it is pretty rare that I read a classic novel and don’t really like it. My mantra has always been “they are classics for a reason” and there is some value in the characters, themes, author’s technique, etc. that will resonate with and impact any reader. And yet, I can’t say that I enjoyed Wuthering Heights or that I will take much away from it. 

About halfway through my reading of the novel I realized that I didn’t actually like any of the characters. Not one.  They were all obnoxious in their own special way and I wasn’t rooting for a single one to find resolve, I just didn’t care. Since that was the case it was difficult to feel invested in the plot or even interested in the ending.  But I forced myself to finish the book, as I often do.

I can’t help but wonder if my apathy was a reaction to the narrative technique that Bronte employed. Wuthering Heights is a story told by Mr. Lockwood, who is not a central character in anything interesting, and is actually just telling the reader about how he was told a story by Ellen Dean, a house-keeper. So, by the time the action of the story is distilled through two narrators it seems a bit watered down. It’s like hearing a story from a guy who once heard a story from another person? Kind of annoying.  Beyond the narrative technique though, each of the unlikable characters had some sort of misguided motivation to destroy their own lives and the lives of others. Even the central, tragic love story couldn’t proceed rationally without being undermined by both Cathy and Heathcliff (the central figures who were supposed to be in love?). 

I think I am probably being a bit too harsh on the novel, it is not completely devoid of worth or skill. The themes of revenge and the destruction that results from singular obsession did come across well and are timeless enough to have some power. Also, the supernatural elements that were woven in actually did make the novel haunting. I’m just not convinced that, that other-worldly element really made the novel eternal in the way that Bronte intended. Although, I think that Stephanie Meyer would disagree with me and that she found the book much more relevant when she decided to reference it repeatedly in her Twilight Series. I see the supernatural connection but if Meyer is implying that the themes in her books and the themes in Wuthering Height are comparable I would say that is quite the stretch.  

The bottom line? I don’t think that I’ve ever regretted reading a book, even one I didn’t enjoy. In the end, reading anything can expand your knowledge base and your perspective on many subjects. In this case, I am now much better equipped to put references to this book into perspective (even if they are from the show Friends).  But I don’t see myself re-reading this book anytime in the near future or without a well-articulated urging from an Emily Bronte champion, if those people exist in the world (and I’m sure they do). But maybe I will revisit it at some point in my life and be able it understand it in a new way, I would never rule out that possibility. 

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” –Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

What do Edith Wharton and Joey Tribbiani have in common? Pretty much nothing...

Am I the only one who is really getting back into Edith Wharton? Oh…I am the only one? Well in that case, I’ll just start this whole thing over…

Let me tell you why you should really be getting into Edith Wharton. I’ll go ahead and start by saying that she was a genius. Wharton was the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize and her writing is prolific. In her novels, she explores late-nineteenth century American society with a raw and honestly critical view. Wharton gives us a glimpse into the dysfunction and cruelty that was inherent in upper class men and woman of the time. And why should we care about late-nineteenth century society? Because those customs and those socialites are our heritage; our social stigmas, traditions, and absurdity are a direct ancestor to Edith Wharton’s subject matter. She may just give us a lens through which we can understand ourselves.

In The House of Mirth specifically, it’s the cruelty that strikes the reader. Wharton’s characters (Mrs. Dorset, Mrs. Trenor, Mrs. Fisher, etc.) are the original Mean Girls. Each chapter provides you with at least one opportunity to utter the phrase, “Oh no she didn’t!” Their gossip and aptitude for stepping on people to advance themselves literally ruin the main character’s life. This cruelty is set among social traditions that were intact over a century ago, but it’s not at all difficult to translate them to today’s world. People still gossip. People still use other people as means to an end. People still ruin other people’s lives without considering the consequences. In fact, if I could make this novel a required read for every teenage girl in America, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it. We need to learn from our history and shed light on what we do to each other in the name of social advancement.

The main character, Lily Bart, was easy to relate to (for me anyway); a single 20-something woman who is feeling the pressure to marry rich. Landing a rich husband will mean stability and a constant flow of the finer things in life. However, she feels the pull of her more intellectual, independent side as well. Lily gets so close to happiness (either with a rich husband or the intellectual love of her life, Lawrence Selden) so often in the book but manages to ruin it in one way or another, every time. She’s not a stupid character. She understands the implications of her actions. It is the internal struggle that keeps her from achieving her goals, because she can’t be sure what goals are the most important to her. Of course, having the “Mean Girls” (and men) completely ruin her reputation multiple times throughout the novel doesn’t help. Poor Lily just wants stability, but she’ll either have to settle in a loveless marriage or settle for a frill-less life.

As a 21^st century reader, you want Lily to stand up to those ho-bags , get them back with the gossip she has, tell her man that she loves him, and live her life above it all. But there are social conventions (and a lack of resources) holding her back. That’s the part we struggle to relate to. Most of us grew up as empowered women who are encouraged to stand up for ourselves and not tolerate injustices. In many ways, we may just have Edith Wharton to thank for that kind of thinking.

Having already read The Age of Innocence and Ethan Frome (both Edith Wharton novels), I knew better than to expect a happy ending to The House of Mirth. I also knew that this novel was written in the vein of The Awakening by Kate Chopin and Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy which pretty much told me where things were going. Without ruining it more than I already have, I will just suffice to say that I consider this novel to be what I call a “freezer book”. A book which reaches a point (or many points) that is so frustrating/upsetting/sad/etc. that you just have to put it in the freezer to get some space… à la Joey Tribbiani:

And now, a social tip from Mrs. Edith Wharton:


"It is almost as stupid to let your clothes betray that you know you are ugly as to have them proclaim that you think you are beautiful"
~Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth