I first read Wuthering Heights in my late teens. In my youthful almost adulthood I wallowed in the misery that book yielded. How romantic I thought Heathcliff was, wrecking his revenge on all for his love of Cathy. Now that I am rereading in my ripe old age of 41, I am seeing Heathcliff as the monster that he is, how could I have thought the traps , webs of deceit and revenge he wielded were romantic? It is the ultimate cycle of abuse story, that shows how families create their own chaos, and how the abused become the abusers. Makes me want to go back in time a slap myself and hand me a book about co-dependants save myself from some future misery, but I digress. Poor Emily Bronte this was her only novel and soon died after it was published, what state of mind was she in when she wrote this book ?
In my late teens it was then also that I discovered my love for Kate Bush, her song Wuthering Heights coupled with my Bronte book made a great catalyst for the self inflicted sorrow of my young mind. Kate Bush was only 15 or 16 when she wrote that great album The Kick Inside, which I still listen to, although not wallowing in misery I might add, now I just wonder about what a genius Kate Bush was at such a young age and if when she read Wuthering Heights in her youth did she wallow in delectable anguish too? And now if she reread it what would she think of it now?