“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

Eliane,

I’m sorry you’re sad, my friend. There’s no question Hindley had it rough and, like Michael Jackson, was gone too soon. If we want to dwell in bleakness momentarily, Hindley got quite a few more years than Linton, who died at the unripe age of 17. Catherine and Frances gave up the ghost at 18. (Well Frances did anyway.) By these standards, Isabella, captured longevity; she lived until she was 31. This is a classic case of literature mirroring real life. Tragically, Emily Bronte died at age 30, Anne at 29, and Charlotte didn’t make it to her 39th birthday—tuberculosis robbed each of them of so many years. (Imagine the classics that were buried alongside those sisters. Big Heavy Sigh.)

Why do I feel compelled to ask if it’s important to read sad stories? What do we learn from the sobering stuff? Awareness is the first answer that comes to mind. (Victorian Lives Matter.) I’m especially passionate about gender ideology, I know you are too—we need to understand unjust cultural requirements and unfair expectations for women. We need to learn from the past in order to move forward and stay forward. In the light. Empathy is another important answer to the question why should we read sobering stories? Walk a mile in another girl’s shoes, right? I felt for young Catherine. What a horrible web she got caught in. And I wanted to cry out a warning sound to insecure Isabella.

But as usual, I’ve meandered from the pressing question that spans our letters: Why is Heathcliff considered heroic when he’s deplorable??? The only way to shed good light on this literary conundrum requires a close look at what constitutes a Byronic hero. You’ll remember Lord Byron. His fictional (potentially autobiographical) character Childe Harold was the first to represent an extreme variation of the Romantic hero archetype. Like the Romantic hero, the Byronic hero is a complex person who often kicks against societal pricks. Norms are not for them. Of course, it won’t surprise you that this type of character is psychologically damaged—a tortured soul essentially. And even when an anti-hero behaves benevolently, those acts are tainted by his brooding, dark nature. Here’s the kicker: this type of Byronic guy is typically charismatic, good looking, and a passionate/sensual man—this draws star-crossed females to him. Say what??? Come again, Byron. Why would a woman be attracted to an arrogant, cunning, surly man who swings between extreme states of emotion?

For the same reason we like Hamlet, Mr. Rochester, Jay Gatsby, Dorian Gray, and arguably, Mr. Darcy. They may be fighters, but let’s be honest—their passion makes them serious lovers as well. (It’s not necessarily a juxtaposition.) Let me just put it down in print, once and for all. Heathcliff is a somewhat redeeming character because of his ardent and undying love for Catherine. His heart is moored to hers. It is something to behold, even if it is sometimes crazy.

You can read plenty online about romantic love in Wuthering Heights. I’m running out of blog space, so I will wrap-up with this fact: the love relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine has become an archetype. Their Devotion? Admiration? Obsession?  was obviously significant. Readers must (if only subconsciously) be drawn to the notion of a passionate longing to be whole—to give oneself unreservedly to another—to gain a oneness or whole self or sense of identity back. No wonder Catherine exclaims, “I am Heathcliff!” Do you, Eliane Pohl, think they redefine love for the reader? Their intense emotional passion transcends mortality to forge something that feels seriously supernatural. I love big sis Charlotte’s observation of WH: “In its storm-heated and electrical atmosphere, we seem at times to breathe lightening.” And whether we want to admit it or not, that lightening is supplied by none other than Heathcliff and Catherine. Here’s my advice: focus on the lightening more than the storm.

I hate to end this post. It makes me sad. I’ve extracted so much more from Bronte’s cult classic via virtual book club than I would have in a plastic 29-inch tablet arm desk among small high school walls. Please say we can do this again. Soon. Please, I beg you. Let me leave you with one final question to ponder: Are Soulmates Real?

I happily (and anxiously) await your response!

Tracky 

p.s. For more on the features of a Byronic Hero, here’s an interesting read.