This is a classic novel that I have been assigned to study in literature. This is not something I would choose to read by myself by any means. I didn’t love the language, I didn’t feel for the characters, but I read it anyway! Do I think anything is good about this novel? Well, maybe.
This novel starts out slowly, and painfully, and I had to entice myself to read onwards with not allowing myself to read anything else (or is that punishment?). The drivel that is written, complete with personal endearing terms that I’m sure the author felt added colour, but just irritated me because I had to look to the back of the book to see what they meant.
Eventually the storytelling gets going, and it is focused on the past for a time, with Mr Lockwood being told stories by his housekeeper. This part did keep me reading to an extent, mainly because I was ignoring another task I needed to be doing.
I have to admit I did not finish reading this book. I haven’t locked myself in for studying the unit that this book is required for this semester, and so I have abandoned it in favour of other things I need to read first. If I do end up taking the unit, I will finish reading this book, and post another review of my feelings about the whole thing.
I’m sure there are Bronte fans out there that are going to hate me for saying this – but I really didn’t feel for Heathcliff. I felt that he brought so many of his troubles upon himself, he didn’t deserve any sympathy, not matter how bad things were for him.
I find the cover of this book visually appealing at least. It fits in with the storms that seem to plague the countryside now that Lockwood has moved it (or at least it seems that way!).