Dear Eliane,

Finally, I’m writing back to tell you that you are not going a little nuts. I love that you unearthed important parallels between our mixed-up modern with Bronte’s twisted tale, heavily influenced by the Gothic tradition. It makes me wonder how far have we really come? The Gothic tradition, dating back to the 18th century, featured isolated locations, ruined buildings, and supernatural elements—not to mention other creepy stuff. (Think Frankenstein.) I feel pretty darn isolated these days. As for ruined buildings, there are no 4 for 4’s at the Wendy’s in Atlanta where Rayshard Brooks innocently slept.  And if you’re skeptical about supernatural, creepy comings and goings, here’s a quick read for you.

The Bronte sisters were obviously progressive. They must have anticipated that novels as a form of entertainment were on the rise—no longer was literature reserved for wealthy aristocrats. Members of the middle class were learning to read, especially females. Of course, that doesn’t mean females were empowered. Sisters Charlotte, Emily, and Anne all wrote under male pseudonyms, as they were well aware that novels written by women were taken less seriously. It was only after Emily and Anne prematurely died that Charlotte fessed up as who the real authors of Wuthering Heights and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall were. Let’s be honest, they were as much isolated by virtue of their gender as they were by their geography. Do you think you and I would have been considered a witch? (Yes, that’s rhetorical.) Cue Monty Python.

The real question I have for you is would you have turned Heathcliff into a newt?

Let’s recap, from chapters 11-16, why you may answer yay to that. The gypsy turned (supposed) gentleman seduces young Isabella to marry him as payback for Catherine being an above-ener. (That’s a made-up word, but it’s such a good one I’m adding it to my vernacular.) Catherine didn’t love Edgar the way she loved Heathcliff—that becomes pretty darn obvious in Chapter 11 when she calls Edgar a coward; clearly, she loves a manly man. But I digress. I’m re-focused on reasons you may want Heathcliff extricated from the moors for good. He’s a total jerk to his new bride. Oh, and he threatens to keep the somewhat meddling, but loveable Mrs. Dean hostage if she won’t let him see his one true love. I’m not sure he needed to tell an unnerved Catherine that she was responsible for her own demise (and ultimately death) because she denied her true feelings for him. How’s that for sufficient reasoning to not like Heathcliff?  Need I remind he tried to kill the family dog?

And yet, I still find myself secretly rooting for the scoundrel. So, tell me Eliane, what is it about Heathcliff that makes him a somewhat redeeming character? Why is he considered a Byronic hero? I’m dying to know what you think. (Your opinion matters as much to me as Lord Byron’s.)

Your friend who usually doesn’t fall for the bad boy,

Tracy