When Sandy, from You've GOTTA Read This! invited her fellow bibliophiles to join her in a reading of Emily Bronte's classic Wuthering Heights, A Reader's Respite couldn't resist.
Fond memories of the novel from our teen years swirled around this novel like a thick fog on the moors. The passion! The tragedy!
We dusted off one of the six (!) copies floating around on our shelves and prepared to dive into the gothic literary fest.
Then we opened the book and.......
...what in the hell were we thinking all those years ago?
As a hormone-driven teenager, Wuthering Heights was the epitome of passion. All those characters literally dying when separated from their one true love....what could be more romantic?
And now, twenty-odd years later? Those same characters just seem, well, stupid.
Now read with the older, and we'd like to think wiser, eyes of a thirty-something, Wuthering Heights appears to be the dysfunctional story of a group of violent, egocentric megalomaniacs who abuse their children and randomly will themselves to die when they don't get what they want.
Clearly the passage of time and life experiences have skewered our view of this classic novel and the logical question is: will the passage of another twenty years alter our views yet again?
And so here are some of the things A Reader's Respite is pondering:
- Does this experience happen to all bibliophiles?
- What makes a novel a CLASSIC?
- Why wasn't Viggo Mortensen cast as Heathcliff?
If you have any answers, please speak up.