Donnerstag, 6. August 2015

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated..."

...the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it."


If I wanted to write an honest and true to the reading experience review of Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights I should probably start writing, stop halfway through it and abandon this post for several weeks only to start from scratch. Not being able to get through a book at first attempt is something I struggle with from time to time and there are several reasons for it. One being there's another book waiting on my shelf that for some reason is super high on my priority list due to either public debate about it or an upcoming movie adaption (or both considering a movie often brings a lot of publicity to the book). Another obsticle with getting through a book: if I don't enjoy the writing style or just simply find it boring. Simple as that. Sometimes badly written books can still work for me (e.g. The Vampire Diaries), but then I mostly enjoy the trashy aspect of reading them or just relax with a thinly constructed story. Putting them down if I don't enjoy them anymore or not continue the series are no problem for me. That's not the case with classics though.

And that's me diving into the thrid group of books that I struggle to finish in the first go: classics. It's mystery to me, since 'classics' aint even a homogenous genre, people tend to define classics mostly by how books accomplished to be relevant and read all over the world decades and even centuries after they've been published. There are rather fast-paste novels in the mix and there are slow, dragging reads in there, I don't doubt. Still, my head does this thing where it kind of recognizes that the books I'm trying to read is a classic and shuts down after 50 pages or less. I do not know whether it's the fear of not being able to finish the book and being a failure or rather the fact that classics tend to be written a little differently from modern literature (e.g. older language, less dialog, ...) which results into me being significantly slower at reading it. Here I need a reminder from time to time: speed is not the defining measurement for your reading experience. You enjoy a book's content so intensely you need to finish it in 2 days? Excellent! You do take your time reading and this enables you to understand and relish the book to the best possible extent? Excellent! There shouldn't be a time bomb attached to every book, especially not when it comes to stuff written more than a centrury ago.


That being said, I can proudly remark that I have given Wuthering Heights another go after putting it down. I wanted to grasp the significance of the book so badly. So, what do I think of it?

First: this ain't a proper summary but at least some words about the content: the novel is set in a rural part of Yorkshire and basically covers the lifes of about three generations of two familys living in two huge but kind of spooky properties. The basic conflicts of doomed love that cannot be, rivality between brothers and the unability to let go of the past and how people wronged you seem to reappear through the generations, sometimes with slightly switched roles or outcomes.

This is - contra to popular believe and what I've read about it beforehand - not a lovestory. As I said, it features characters that claim they're madly in love with each other but as a sophisticated reader you know that what they call love is rather an obsessiv form of possesivness. Seldom I have seen characters that are that self-centered and turn their love for someone into hate and wroth the minute it's not returned or can't be returned. But don't get me wrong: this is no criticism! What Emily Brontë really masters at is portraying flawed, deeply troubled human beings that still seem to hold on to values like family, pride and honour. In the end, the novel really shows what terryfing things people are able to do to each other even lacking the use of physical violence. Emily Brontë adds another dimension to this subject matter when she displays it reoccuringly in the generations to follow, raising the question of how much character traits are set in stone by either nature or nurture. This aspect of the story is definitely my personal highlight of the whole book and got my mind occupied even after finishing the novel itself.


Another thing Emily Brontë interestinly played with in this novel is the narration. I went into the book expecting a female first person narrator pretty much like in her sister's work Jane Eyre (which I haven't read). Dang, was I wrong. The story is narrated in a first person's narration, but only for brief parts of it. The majority of the story is brought to you by tellings from a housekeeper or even tellings within this telling (I need to stop using the word 'tellings' right now). This made getting back into the story after I put the book down for a week or so very difficult and definitely contributed to me not being able to finish it at my initial attempt.

So, am I generally fond of this book? Hm, I'm not sure. As I said the narration and the questions about human nature are definitely reasons to consume Emily Brontë's only work rather today than tomorrow. But there are some cons as well.

Firstly, I didn't think the book met my high expectations at all. I expected to be blown away both by language and plot. Both are relatively simple or at least not really outstanding to me. Parts of the story feel like a constant repeat of the same things: a and b are kin, a hates c, but b loves c. The conflict slowly unfolds and everyone gets hurt. The ending kind of makes up for all the pain through out but this definitely ain't no happy story. What actually happens during the 400 pages is not that much and not that important, it's focused on the character and family dynamics, I get it. Still, I would have liked some more outstanding plot devices, something to destinguish this novel from another period drama piece.

Another aspect I had problems with were the characters: they are (almost? can't think of one right now who wasn't) all dislikable, even the narrating housekeeper doesn't cover herself in glory. Of course, flawed characters are needed to emphasize the problems of human conscience and morals that I stated early as something I really enjoyed about the book. On the other hand, this holds me back from identifing myself in any way with the protagonists and therefore I don't feel their pain or their longing as much as if I was emotionally invested in them. Emily Brontë probably consciously sacrificed the one for the other (or not, I mean, who am I to know something about Emily Brontë's writing process). Okay, let's just say not every book serves as something I can get emotionally invested in. But what remains is that the undergoing meanings of the book and the questions being raised have a higher probability of staying in your head and being relevant to you, if you feel emotionally arroused due to the content of the book. Trust me, I do study that kind of shit.

So where does this leave us? No likeable characters, lacking plot points and the fact that I couldn't finish it in the first go. Plus my dissapointment, because to be honest: I thought I'd love it. Still: I don't regret reading the book at all and I still would recommend it. Not as a fun read probably but as a challenging, intelectual stimulating but flawed novel. It didn't blow me away and I wouldn't consider it a masterpiece. I think it's a decent novel with an interesting narration and important general themes.


What this book leaves me with is this: I can do it. I can finish books even after I put them down the first time. I can finish a classic. Even if I don't like it 100%. I can read books from more than a century back. I can do it. And I will do it. Most fulfilling was watching a lot of book reviews of some booktubers I enjoy on Youtube - because that's the thing about classics: a lot of people have read them and will continue to read them. This book will probably stay relevant until the time I have children (or at least I'm old and grey) and this is such an interesting thought. I am very proud of myself that I now can state my valid opinion about this classic. I'd like to continue with some of Jane Austen's work (which I also heard is easier to read then Wutherhing Heights and more cheerful) and of course, some of Emily's sisters' work like above mentioned Jane Eyre. There is also the BBC miniseries of Wuthering Heights left. Fun times ahead.

A couple of words about my edition: I love this one so much it hurts. I bought this one at a little street book stand in Amsterdam and it featured a lot of dutch annotations like the 'stamboom' (family tree) you can see on one of the pictures. It's amazing realizing that you're not the first one to read this and even more when you can add some scribbles yourself: who knows who's going to read them next. I also managed to damage the already not in the best condition book pretty heavily: I drowned it once in water and once in shower gel - but it survived and now looks like it's ancient. Handle your books with care, they say, but I say: a damaged book is a loved book.

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