If you were dating Heathcliff, I would not stifle my opinion. I repeat, I would not hold back. Just when I think he can’t be more despicable, he goes and does something even more reprehensible than before. It’s one thing to guilt young Catherine, the most heroic character in the novel. To convince her she is killing the man she loves. (Death by lack of letters???) It’s quite another to trap her and Mrs. Dean, by brute force, in an act of blackmail, which will likely speed up Edgar’s death. No wonder the dogs at Wuthering Heights symbolize this mongrel of a man.
Remember when Lockwood initially visits the Heights? He’s terrified when left alone near the hearthstone with Heathcliff’s dogs. Listen to his description of them: A “herd of possessed swine could have had no worse spirits in them than those animals of yours. You might as well leave a stranger with a brood of tigers.” Sound like someone else we know? (Bronte is heavy-handed here: “You’d better let that dog alone, growled Mr. Heathcliff.) And the next day, when they think Lockwood is stealing a lantern, they sic the dogs on him. “Fortunately, the beasts seemed more bent on stretching their paws, and yawning, and flourishing their tales, than devouring me alive,” said the relieved tenant—while Lockwood wasn’t in immediate physical danger, he must have felt demeaned and subjugated by his mongrel landlord. He certainly recognized the possibility of being devoured by Heathcliff. Talk about a beastie boy! (You’ll also remember that Edgar and Isabella, early on, fight over a tiny little testy dog, which could very well symbolize Edgar’s sensitivity.)
Now, onto your comment about Catherine. Of course, you wouldn’t want to be friends with her. You are far too emotionally healthy to be besties with anyone remotely like Catherine Earnshaw Linton. Could she be considered a madwoman in the attic? I think so. How could she not end up in such a frenzied state? The ideal woman in nineteenth century England became known as “the angel of the house.” Virginia Woolf provides a robust job description to accompany that lofty little label: “sympathetic, charming, unselfish, and excelling in the arts of family life, self-sacrificing, and above all pure.” Catherine doesn’t embody one of those virtues, does she? Self-sacrificing? Charming? I don’t think so. And we can hardly squeeze “co-dependency” into that ideal female equation. Is it me or is there any doubt that both Catherine and Heathcliff exhibit behaviors that are consistent with co-dependency? The need to control others, fear of abandonment, chronic anger, a lack of communication skills, the confusion between love and pity—am I forgetting any other major indicators of this behavioral condition/relationship killer? Doesn’t exactly sync with angel-of-the-house qualities, does it?
While I’m asking questions, let me continue with maybe the most important one: How could Catherine be a proper Victorian wife to an unconventional man/sometimes seeming mongrel? Marriage would not provide her with independent legal status. She had no right to any money or inheritance; she could not buy property—she couldn’t even have claim to her own children for hells sake. (Can we say bleak times for women?) Social mores pretty much force Catherine to choose Edgar over Heathcliff. And frankly, she’s unhappy about it at times. I’m sure she loved Edgar for providing for her. But that doesn’t soothe her insatiable itch for her soul mate. Rough stuff when you think about it. A whole lotta push and pull goin’ on there. Maybe we women would all be a little bit mad in those cultural circumstances?!? And so, we’re back to Monty Python once again.
Oh, I can’t even help myself at this point. I feel compelled to listen to “Witchy Woman,” and I need to listen to it now. Please say you’ll join me (scroll to 1:33).