Catherine and Isabella are so different from each other, but end up in such similar loveless marriages. Maybe because I am female, I feel myself in Catherine and Isabella, while Heathcliff and Edgar feel so very distant. This has happened without me realizing it. I suspect it was the author's intention. Such skilled writing!
Catherine and Isabella are certainly different, aren't they?! You know, as much as I try to like Catherine, I don't. And every time I read the novel I like her less and less. Every time I read the novel, I respect Isabella (in her situation, especially) more and more.
I am the first to admit, I am probably Heathcliff's only fan--well...perhaps, Emily Brontë was a fan. 😊 If you feel distant from Heathcliff now, you'll likely feel significantly more so as the story continues--there are moments when we (as readers) cannot even relate to him as one of our fellow human beings. But, I think that is exactly how Brontë means for us to feel. Heathcliff is the personification of our rawest emotions and it makes us feel uncomfortable.
Edgar, I don't feel like I've ever really gotten to know. Even at the end of the novel I cannot definitively form a good opinion of him...perhaps I should (re)read the novel with Edgar as my focus? That would be interesting!
There is more violence and death than romance or nature in this story so far. I wonder what Emily was thinking as she roamed outside the house. Pinching, cutting, threatening, and ostracizing--I would have to reread to count all the occasions.
I am somewhat behind and there is so much to digest, thank you as always Jessica. It is the most thorough analysis I have ever seen. How did Emily imagine such scenes of utmost depravity. Where did those ideas come from? In the darkness of our minds our imagination can take is to the loneliest places and so many of these characters are so lonely. Embraces, kindness, sensitivity only come through via Hareton at the close.
Thank you for mentioning the things that struck me about this book full of sorrow and sorry for my slowness .
Sharon, I am so pleased you're enjoying my analysis. Thank you, thank you! You are so right--so many of these characters are so lonely--and it is heartbreaking for us to read!
I agree, Judy--violence certainly dominates the story.
While writing my recent essay (A Double Nature)--about Nature in the upcoming Week Five assignment--I thought a lot about your observations and I'm planning to dig deeper in the future. I am interested in researching the comparison.
My thoughts on, "what Emily was thinking as she roamed outside the house," are this: I think Emily explored the land (and wrote) without any audience in mind--and so, her observations and her words are born out of a place of pure, raw emotion, an expression of experiences (in Nature and among people) witnessed.
She witnessed bullying and mistreatment in schools, death all around her and Branwell's drink/drug-addled behavior at home. Her fantasy world of Gondal (its poetry & prose) was begun as a child and developed in adolescence, continuing through young adulthood--while she endured death and violence (and likely, she witnessed few healthy, real-life romances). Critics believe the Gondal poetry--its characters--directly influenced the characters in WH; I tend to agree (although I'm not a Brontë scholar!).
I taught 9th and 10th graders a long, long time ago. A sort of unguarded freedom comes with this creative time in their lives--they write with pure emotion until a parent or a teacher warns them against it. Adults worry. I remember my favorite English teacher warning me off of the subject of suicide in my poetry--I was seventeen (way back in 1989) and American schoolteachers were already becoming wary of adolescents writing about anything other than pretty flowers. A decade later our country had its first school shooting.
Emily's work reminds me of this time period in adolescence-- BIG emotions set down on paper without regard to whether it's proper or acceptable. It's as if on paper, without any constraints (or repercussions) she could explore all manner of what she was witnessing (the behavior of Nature and the behavior of humans). Her poems and stories, hidden in her desk, shared aloud only if/when she wished...
Charlotte's discovery of Emily's writing has always felt (to me) like her sister bumbled into her diary--private thoughts and observations penned in poetry and prose. Some words, fit for public eyes and others, private (her own way of working through experiences observed in her real life).
Thank you so much for your observations, Judy. Similarly to how Bea has made me think about Isabella in a much broader way; I'm sincerely interested in comparing the instances of interior scenes/exterior scenes and violence/romance because of your comments.
I’m nearing the very end (sorry - reading ahead, I can’t stop!) and so I am being careful in not putting spoilers here. But I have come to the conclusion that the only character who is actually truthful is Isabella….
Your conclusion is likely, correct. And I must confess, after you left the comment re: her hidden strength, I am 'reading her' with an entirely new outlook!
Catherine and Isabella are so different from each other, but end up in such similar loveless marriages. Maybe because I am female, I feel myself in Catherine and Isabella, while Heathcliff and Edgar feel so very distant. This has happened without me realizing it. I suspect it was the author's intention. Such skilled writing!
Catherine and Isabella are certainly different, aren't they?! You know, as much as I try to like Catherine, I don't. And every time I read the novel I like her less and less. Every time I read the novel, I respect Isabella (in her situation, especially) more and more.
I am the first to admit, I am probably Heathcliff's only fan--well...perhaps, Emily Brontë was a fan. 😊 If you feel distant from Heathcliff now, you'll likely feel significantly more so as the story continues--there are moments when we (as readers) cannot even relate to him as one of our fellow human beings. But, I think that is exactly how Brontë means for us to feel. Heathcliff is the personification of our rawest emotions and it makes us feel uncomfortable.
Edgar, I don't feel like I've ever really gotten to know. Even at the end of the novel I cannot definitively form a good opinion of him...perhaps I should (re)read the novel with Edgar as my focus? That would be interesting!
There is more violence and death than romance or nature in this story so far. I wonder what Emily was thinking as she roamed outside the house. Pinching, cutting, threatening, and ostracizing--I would have to reread to count all the occasions.
I am somewhat behind and there is so much to digest, thank you as always Jessica. It is the most thorough analysis I have ever seen. How did Emily imagine such scenes of utmost depravity. Where did those ideas come from? In the darkness of our minds our imagination can take is to the loneliest places and so many of these characters are so lonely. Embraces, kindness, sensitivity only come through via Hareton at the close.
Thank you for mentioning the things that struck me about this book full of sorrow and sorry for my slowness .
Sharon, I am so pleased you're enjoying my analysis. Thank you, thank you! You are so right--so many of these characters are so lonely--and it is heartbreaking for us to read!
I agree, Judy--violence certainly dominates the story.
While writing my recent essay (A Double Nature)--about Nature in the upcoming Week Five assignment--I thought a lot about your observations and I'm planning to dig deeper in the future. I am interested in researching the comparison.
My thoughts on, "what Emily was thinking as she roamed outside the house," are this: I think Emily explored the land (and wrote) without any audience in mind--and so, her observations and her words are born out of a place of pure, raw emotion, an expression of experiences (in Nature and among people) witnessed.
She witnessed bullying and mistreatment in schools, death all around her and Branwell's drink/drug-addled behavior at home. Her fantasy world of Gondal (its poetry & prose) was begun as a child and developed in adolescence, continuing through young adulthood--while she endured death and violence (and likely, she witnessed few healthy, real-life romances). Critics believe the Gondal poetry--its characters--directly influenced the characters in WH; I tend to agree (although I'm not a Brontë scholar!).
I taught 9th and 10th graders a long, long time ago. A sort of unguarded freedom comes with this creative time in their lives--they write with pure emotion until a parent or a teacher warns them against it. Adults worry. I remember my favorite English teacher warning me off of the subject of suicide in my poetry--I was seventeen (way back in 1989) and American schoolteachers were already becoming wary of adolescents writing about anything other than pretty flowers. A decade later our country had its first school shooting.
Emily's work reminds me of this time period in adolescence-- BIG emotions set down on paper without regard to whether it's proper or acceptable. It's as if on paper, without any constraints (or repercussions) she could explore all manner of what she was witnessing (the behavior of Nature and the behavior of humans). Her poems and stories, hidden in her desk, shared aloud only if/when she wished...
Charlotte's discovery of Emily's writing has always felt (to me) like her sister bumbled into her diary--private thoughts and observations penned in poetry and prose. Some words, fit for public eyes and others, private (her own way of working through experiences observed in her real life).
Thank you so much for your observations, Judy. Similarly to how Bea has made me think about Isabella in a much broader way; I'm sincerely interested in comparing the instances of interior scenes/exterior scenes and violence/romance because of your comments.
Thanks for this thought provoking analysis!
Thanks so much for reading--it is a LONG essay!
I’m nearing the very end (sorry - reading ahead, I can’t stop!) and so I am being careful in not putting spoilers here. But I have come to the conclusion that the only character who is actually truthful is Isabella….
Your conclusion is likely, correct. And I must confess, after you left the comment re: her hidden strength, I am 'reading her' with an entirely new outlook!