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3.72 AVERAGE
3.72 AVERAGE
Los personajes principales son aquellos que salen de lo ordinario porque son tan odiosos, egoístas y desagradables que te piensas por que son ellos los protagonistas; aunque cuando vas avanzando con la novela descubres por que, para contar una historia de amor tan tormentosa y llena de rencor y tragedia solo podrían ellos hacerlo posible.
While the writing is simply gorgeous....Heathcliff is loathsome. Although I must say, I truly enjoyed Nelly Dean and her narrative. I also have hope for the younger Catherine and Hareton.
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
⭐️ ☆☆☆☆ (1/5 stars)
Reader, I am befuddled.
It is with trembling hand and a heavy, perhaps slightly rebellious, heart that I confess - I have lain this book aside unfinished.
Yes, unfinished. Do not gasp, dear reader. Do not clutch your pearls so tightly. I am well aware that to abandon a classic is tantamount to social ruin, that to speak ill of the Brontë name might get one thrown from the parlour, declared uncultured, or worse… a woman of no literary taste. But I must speak my truth, even if it invites the wrath of every bonnet-clad ghost on the Yorkshire moors.
Forsooth, I simply did not vibe with it.
The prose is a tangled thicket I could not hack my way through - dense, winding, and filled with such peculiar punctuation I feared I’d stumbled into an opium dream. The dialogue? A feverish carousel of narrators upon narrators, all speaking in riddles and swapping stories like they were playing hot potato with their trauma. I oft found myself squinting at the page, whispering, “Wait, who are you again?”
Perchance I am too simple-minded, or my sensibilities too modern. Mayhap my affliction of the nerves (read: ADHD) and tendency to misread (read: dyslexia) make such literature a steeper hill than most. But this was not merely a hill, it was the very cliff edge Heathcliff howled from, and I… could go no further.
I DNF’d around the halfway mark, somewhere between Cathy’s ghost fingernails and my last shred of comprehension. Perhaps one day I shall return, older, wiser, with a firmer grip on who is dead, who is alive, and why everyone is yelling in the rain.
Until then, I acknowledge its boldness, its fire, its impact on the hearts of women past. But as a reader of this modern age, I can only say: it is not my cup of tea, nor my haunted cup of laudanum.
Yours in literary regret,
A lady most confused
Reader, I am befuddled.
It is with trembling hand and a heavy, perhaps slightly rebellious, heart that I confess - I have lain this book aside unfinished.
Yes, unfinished. Do not gasp, dear reader. Do not clutch your pearls so tightly. I am well aware that to abandon a classic is tantamount to social ruin, that to speak ill of the Brontë name might get one thrown from the parlour, declared uncultured, or worse… a woman of no literary taste. But I must speak my truth, even if it invites the wrath of every bonnet-clad ghost on the Yorkshire moors.
Forsooth, I simply did not vibe with it.
The prose is a tangled thicket I could not hack my way through - dense, winding, and filled with such peculiar punctuation I feared I’d stumbled into an opium dream. The dialogue? A feverish carousel of narrators upon narrators, all speaking in riddles and swapping stories like they were playing hot potato with their trauma. I oft found myself squinting at the page, whispering, “Wait, who are you again?”
Perchance I am too simple-minded, or my sensibilities too modern. Mayhap my affliction of the nerves (read: ADHD) and tendency to misread (read: dyslexia) make such literature a steeper hill than most. But this was not merely a hill, it was the very cliff edge Heathcliff howled from, and I… could go no further.
I DNF’d around the halfway mark, somewhere between Cathy’s ghost fingernails and my last shred of comprehension. Perhaps one day I shall return, older, wiser, with a firmer grip on who is dead, who is alive, and why everyone is yelling in the rain.
Until then, I acknowledge its boldness, its fire, its impact on the hearts of women past. But as a reader of this modern age, I can only say: it is not my cup of tea, nor my haunted cup of laudanum.
Yours in literary regret,
A lady most confused
dark
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Perhaps the greatest lesson of this story
was the unbreakable bond between love and madness.
A bitter lesson in inevitability.
For nothing—absolutely nothing—went the way the heroes had wished.
And perhaps the true moral of the tale was this:
Revenge destroys life.
It wastes time,
sours moments of joy,
and leaves the heart cold and alone.
And in the end,
there is no peace, no happiness...
The only thing that remains
is emptiness and solitude.
A fate that perhaps,
befell Heathcliff.
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
mysterious
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
emotional
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes