Review: Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Why, WHY is this terrible book beloved???

Firstly, let me be clear. I perfectly understand that everyone being horrible was the point. I'm not an idiot. I also don't totally hate the notion of a love story between two despicable people (see second star).

For me, my biggest issue was how long and pointless it began to feel.

This book was constantly advertised to me as the pinnacle of gothic romance - an epic love story for the ages. But there was nothing epic here at all - it's two people who love each other but hate everyone around them and make themselves, each other, and everyone else miserable.

It's also twice as long as it needs to be, with the second part really being a sad echo of the first. Again, I can see the intention to have this be a clever redux with small yet significant differences, but that didn't mean I enjoyed reading all the same boring happenings again.

Not to mention that I couldn't understand a damn word out of Joseph's mouth.

There is some small pleasure in loathing these characters, and that also contributes to the second star I offer. I don't believe a book that focuses entirely on despicable people is necessarily bad. For me, the real crime was just in how dull the thing was. It essentially amounts to 300-odd pages of mean name-calling and metaphorical hair-pulling. There are numerous treks back and forth between the properties, wandering the moors, etc. but there's very little to note beyond births, deaths and general horridness.

Credit where credit is due - there are some truly despicable acts that do entertain with their scandalous nature. But on the whole, not nearly enough to make this book stand out for that reason, either.

I don't know how much sense this will make, but if lukewarm dishwater were a book, this would be it.

View all my reviews