Wuthering Heights

What's Veeky Forums's opinion on this book? I don't see it talked about too much.

I just read it and it was really cool and stuff, desu I loved every single page of it even though I'm a boy and it was written by some girl.

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Enjoyed it

it's not talked about much cuz it's fucking dogshit.

Why is it dogshit?

a women wrote it

>female author

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great book. Heathcliff did literally nothing wrong

Love it. Haunting exploration of psychological manipulation, power play, accompanied by the beautiful yorkshire landscape. So many moments I loved like Isabelle wanting to leave the room as Catherine tells about how Isabelle wishes to marry Heathcliffe, Catherine almost digging her claws into Isabelle. I think it explores misanthropy brilliantly too, like ho Heathcliffe hates the Lintons so he also hates their innocent children, even his own with Isabelle. Great book, dunno how Emily wrote it as she was young and introverted as well as not really interested in novels. Observant i guess?

probably a man wrote it. women can't think as high thoughts

>forgetting about weed smoking hoes

Does Veeky Forums really hate female authors? This and Mrs Dalloway are my favourite books desu

Villette is the best book written by any of the Bronte sisters

>plebs ITT don't like Emily Bronte

kys

i.e.
woman shit

I don't, user, but I don't think some anons are kidding around about it unfortunately

Siege mentality, some anons take Tge Guardian articles too seriously

Thinking about picking it up, how is it?

Agreed. It's a horrible, beautifully vivid and poignant nightmare. A world where true love can exist, but everything gets fucked up beyond recognition by the sins of the people who live in it, in a brutal and realistic way. Every chapter was engaging beginning to end, there's no boring parts. I loved all of it, but especially the ending and the events leading up to it. I want to post the last paragraph or some other excerpt but I wouldn't risk spoiling it for someone.
Leave this thread and go read it. I know, reading for plot is for brainlet pseuds and all, but for me going along with it and finding out what happens was exciting and part of the fun, don't let someone ruin it for you.

yeh, ill prolly pick it up tomorrow from the library

Top book

It's not his fault he happened to come to live in Wuthering Heights but other than that Heathcliff did literally everything wrong, he was the devil child that fucked up everyone's life. If he wasn't there, Catherine would have probably married Edgar without ever being distracted by any doubt from loving him. Everything the two families had destined for them got ruined and it started with the good deed of the Earnshaws' father adopting an abandoned child. Heathcliff was bullied by Hindley but it doesn't excuse his malice, iirc it's described that even as a child he was plotting premeditated revenge. Or was Heathcliff really meant to marry Catherine, and the marriage with Linton was the real wrong, and the only way for true love to happen is to twist and trick fate? I don't know, but in the end fate prevails once Heathcliff dies, and the cousins marry as they were supposed to. Or did everything happen exactly as it was supposed to?

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Seeing his sidelined position visualized on the family tree was really funny for some reason - puts into perspective just how insane his ability is to just fuck shit up.

*wind howling and whooshing contemplatively*

would've been better if she wrote a sequel with the male perspective, for balance.

It's literally the manliest book written by a woman I've ever read.

it's a twilight joke. how fucking dumb are you?

I'm sorry I haven't read Twilight user.
I actually read books.

>twilight joke
>how dumb are you

youtube.com/watch?v=BW3gKKiTvjs

IT'S ME O CATHY I'VE COME HOME

My AP lit teacher had us watch this after we finished WH, pretty funny.
>SO COHOHOHOOOLD

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it's got such an angelic chorus, great example of a tribute.

>TFW had tickets to see her most recent liveshow but got cancer and couldn't go

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youtube.com/watch?v=6xckBwPdo1c

kate bush is a misunderstood genius.

>got cancer
where'd you catch it? just seemed as casual as getting the flu.

Isn't she basically universally loved by music critics? Except The Dreaming but people are finally coming around on that too.
Link related
youtube.com/watch?v=V3XAeg3B0To

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Lymphoma, more of an inconvenience desu.

>Does Veeky Forums really hate female authors?

The Road Warrior
Ghostbusters
Star Wars
flat chested Wonder Woman
flat chested Tomb Raider

I think it should be pretty clear by now that feminists resent males and are hostile to the thought of men ever enjoying themselves again. They are starting to make inroads into comic books and video games as well. Their ultimate dream is to parasitically make money by taking over male created art forms while at the same time utterly ruining the childhoods of male consumers.

Beware the non-male author user. Her hostility and treachery know no bounds.

Literally this, so underrated

Rereading Jane Eyre right now, I don't remember it being so spooky. Villette is definitely better though. I also really enjoyed Wuthering Heights and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall when I read them, but I can't really remember anything else about them now, too bad.

He was a master ruseman

>Isn't she basically universally loved by music critics?
Yes, but for the wrong reasons.

>comic books and video games
Sounds like they aren't even going after men, user.

Really nice writing. Some chick goes crazy over brown gypsy cock. Would recommend.

I tried to find some art to post and it seems that very artist's depiction of the characters is shit, it's always somehow sappy and overly romantic, some of them even draw Heathcliff like he was supposed to be effeminate. I found this photo though and it resembles pretty closely what I imagined him to look like

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i was reluctant to click because tributes tend to be trash but that's nice
i've heard the song before but i never knew what it was about
>Heathcliff, it's me, Cathy, I've come home i'm so cold
>let me in your window
makes me feel things now that i know what it means

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fucking love Kate Bush, 1980s Kate Bush was hot

t plen

I enjoyed it more in retrospect than I did while reading it (read it for high school lit class). The final few pages are unquestionably beautiful though.

I liked it better when it was called JoJo's Bizarre Adventure part 1

Don’t forget non males making journalism, academia and office jobs that dont require autism in general toxic for males as well

Being a brainlet I completely forgot that Heathcliff running around with Catherine and being mischevious kids was what led to them meeting the Lintons in the first place, if he wasn't there to influence her Cathy and Edgar probably would have never became friends. So in the end he really was an instrument of fate, even if the overwrought suffering he caused was the doing of his own will and unnecessary. Or maybe it was all necessary for things to end like they did, I don't know.

Fragments from the second to last chapter:
‘It is a poor conclusion, is it not?’ he observed, having brooded awhile on the scene he had just witnessed: ‘an absurd termination to my violent exertions? I get levers and mattocks to demolish the two houses, and train myself to be capable of working like Hercules, and when everything is ready and in my power, I find the will to lift a slate off either roof has vanished! My old enemies have not beaten me; now would be the precise time to revenge myself on their representatives: I could do it; and none could hinder me. But where is the use? I don’t care for striking: I can’t take the trouble to raise my hand! That sounds as if I had been labouring the whole time only to exhibit a fine trait of magnanimity. It is far from being the case: I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.

[...]

‘Then you are not afraid of death?’ I pursued.

‘Afraid? No!’ he replied. ‘I have neither a fear, nor a presentiment, nor a hope of death. Why should I? With my hard constitution and temperate mode of living, and unperilous occupations, I ought to, and probably shall, remain above ground till there is scarcely a black hair on my head. And yet I cannot continue in this condition! I have to remind myself to breathe—almost to remind my heart to beat! And it is like bending back a stiff spring: it is by compulsion that I do the slightest act not prompted by one thought; and by compulsion that I notice anything alive or dead, which is not associated with one universal idea. I have a single wish, and my whole being and faculties are yearning to attain it. They have yearned towards it so long, and so unwaveringly, that I’m convinced it will be reached—and soon—because it has devoured my existence: I am swallowed up in the anticipation of its fulfilment. My confessions have not relieved me; but they may account for some otherwise unaccountable phases of humour which I show. O God! It is a long fight; I wish it were over!’

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