Reviews - Svindlande Höjder

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25k reviews for:

Svindlande Höjder

Emily Brontë

3.72 AVERAGE

paumerich's review against another edition

4.5

dark emotional mysterious slow-paced

Plot or Character Driven: Plot

Strong character development: No

Loveable characters: Complicated

Diverse cast of characters: No

Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes

redwell's review against another edition

4.0

Bronte unfolds a telescoping, multi-generational maelstrom that is most pointedly illustrated by its introduction.

Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff’s dwelling. “Wuthering” being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind, blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun.

This is a story of clinging to something desperately as well as wanting something else. It is the story of how natures are shaped. It is all conflict, all friction, and shockingly unconventional in how little reprieve it offers. It's a shame the likes of Lars Von Trier or Adrzej Zulawski never fancied to adapt it. They alone could channel the mania such punishment unleashes.

Without pretending to have studied it too closely, I will say Heathcliff strikes me as a metaphor for a shifting urban/rural relation if not colonialism. He's hinted as being foreign, shipped in, displaced, abused, burdened, and becomes the product of the treatment he suffers. He is the fulcrum on which the animus tilts. I believe a recent film best explains this dynamic:

What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash?! I'll tell you what you get! You get what you deserve!

My only critique of the novel is that it's told so often through retrospective that the present is almost unnecessary. I enjoyed Lockwood's early foibles, and as he settled into an insert for the reader, I began to forget why he existed at all. The flashbacks weren't just exposition, they were the story. I don't think that added to the drama so much as deflated it, and my expectations of catching up to the present turned into frustration.

Of course, I did come around, and hindsight has led me to beg forgiveness. That is the book's conclusion as well. Holding a grudge is liking drinking poison and expecting the other person to get sick. If anything, I felt as unsatisfied as the characters which made the end all that more cathartic. I can't recall a book with a final paragraph that made up so much ground. Chilling.