Wuthering Heights by Emily BrontĂ« (guided reading books TXT) đ
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Returning from Liverpool, Mr. Earnshaw brings with him a dirty, ragged, black-haired child called Heathcliff, and sets into motion a tale of destructive passions. The bookâs two locations, the genteel Thrushcross Grange and the wild Wuthering Heights, serve as matching backgrounds to the characters of their occupants, as they struggle to gain the upper hand in marriage and power. All the while, the ghosts of the past seem to drive revenge more than inspire forgiveness.
Wuthering Heights was Emily BrontĂ«âs sole published novel before her early death at the age of 30. Published under the pen name of Ellis Bell, a shared surname with the pen names of her sisters, many assumed that such a book could only have been written by a man. Reviewers of the time praised its emotional power but were also shocked at the actions of its characters, and most agreed that it was impossible to put down. After the novelâs original publication in 1847 it was revised into a single volume in 1850, and over time has become a classic of English literature. The story has been reworked into plays, operas, films, TV dramatisations and a ballet, and has inspired many further works of art, music and literature.
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- Author: Emily Brontë
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âââNot as ill as I wish,â he replied. âBut leaving out my arm, every inch of me is as sore as if I had been fighting with a legion of imps!â
âââYes, no wonder,â was my next remark. âCatherine used to boast that she stood between you and bodily harm: she meant that certain persons would not hurt you for fear of offending her. Itâs well people donât really rise from their grave, or, last night, she might have witnessed a repulsive scene! Are not you bruised, and cut over your chest and shoulders?â
âââI canât say,â he answered, âbut what do you mean? Did he dare to strike me when I was down?â
âââHe trampled on and kicked you, and dashed you on the ground,â I whispered. âAnd his mouth watered to tear you with his teeth; because heâs only half man: not so much, and the rest fiend.â
âMr. Earnshaw looked up, like me, to the countenance of our mutual foe; who, absorbed in his anguish, seemed insensible to anything around him: the longer he stood, the plainer his reflections revealed their blackness through his features.
âââOh, if God would but give me strength to strangle him in my last agony, Iâd go to hell with joy,â groaned the impatient man, writhing to rise, and sinking back in despair, convinced of his inadequacy for the struggle.
âââNay, itâs enough that he has murdered one of you,â I observed aloud. âAt the Grange, everyone knows your sister would have been living now had it not been for Mr. Heathcliff. After all, it is preferable to be hated than loved by him. When I recollect how happy we wereâ âhow happy Catherine was before he cameâ âIâm fit to curse the day.â
âMost likely, Heathcliff noticed more the truth of what was said, than the spirit of the person who said it. His attention was roused, I saw, for his eyes rained down tears among the ashes, and he drew his breath in suffocating sighs. I stared full at him, and laughed scornfully. The clouded windows of hell flashed a moment towards me; the fiend which usually looked out, however, was so dimmed and drowned that I did not fear to hazard another sound of derision.
âââGet up, and begone out of my sight,â said the mourner.
âI guessed he uttered those words, at least, though his voice was hardly intelligible.
âââI beg your pardon,â I replied. âBut I loved Catherine too; and her brother requires attendance, which, for her sake, I shall supply. Now, that sheâs dead, I see her in Hindley: Hindley has exactly her eyes, if you had not tried to gouge them out, and made them black and red; and herâ ââ
âââGet up, wretched idiot, before I stamp you to death!â he cried, making a movement that caused me to make one also.
âââBut then,â I continued, holding myself ready to flee, âif poor Catherine had trusted you, and assumed the ridiculous, contemptible, degrading title of Mrs. Heathcliff, she would soon have presented a similar picture! She wouldnât have borne your abominable behaviour quietly: her detestation and disgust must have found voice.â
âThe back of the settle and Earnshawâs person interposed between me and him; so instead of endeavouring to reach me, he snatched a dinner-knife from the table and flung it at my head. It struck beneath my ear, and stopped the sentence I was uttering; but, pulling it out, I sprang to the door and delivered another; which I hope went a little deeper than his missile. The last glimpse I caught of him was a furious rush on his part, checked by the embrace of his host; and both fell locked together on the hearth. In my flight through the kitchen I bid Joseph speed to his master; I knocked over Hareton, who was hanging a litter of puppies from a chair-back in the doorway; and, blessed as a soul escaped from purgatory, I bounded, leaped, and flew down the steep road; then, quitting its windings, shot direct across the moor, rolling over banks, and wading through marshes: precipitating myself, in fact, towards the beacon-light of the Grange. And far rather would I be condemned to a perpetual dwelling in the infernal regions than, even for one night, abide beneath the roof of Wuthering Heights again.â
Isabella ceased speaking, and took a drink of tea; then she rose, and bidding me put on her bonnet, and a great shawl I had brought, and turning a deaf ear to my entreaties for her to remain another hour, she stepped on to a chair, kissed Edgarâs and Catherineâs portraits, bestowed a similar salute on me, and descended to the carriage, accompanied by Fanny, who yelped wild with joy at recovering her mistress. She was driven away, never to revisit this neighbourhood: but a regular correspondence was established between her and my master when things were more settled. I believe her new abode was in the south, near London; there she had a son born a few months subsequent to her escape. He was christened Linton, and, from the first, she reported him to be an ailing, peevish creature.
Mr. Heathcliff, meeting me one day in the village, inquired where she lived. I refused to tell. He remarked that it was not of any moment, only she must beware of coming to her brother: she should not be with him, if he had to keep her himself. Though I would give no information, he discovered, through some of the other
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