Wuthering Heights is probably one of the best novels I've read so far. The way it is written, all its originality, its literary excellence and its rich and deep exhibition of human experiences _all makes Emily Brontë's only novel a master piece. I enjoyed its reading a lot, in form and content: a worn edition with red hard-covers that my dear M. and I found in a thrift's market in Camden Town for a little more than the price of one half-pint.
Emily was only 28 when she wrote the novel. Soon afterwards, she died from tuberculosis, "the romantic disease par excellence", as my friend A. commented last week. It leaves me in awe the fact that an extremely shy girl from Yorkshire could have had such knowledge on the human passions, sorrows and desires, particularly the evil ones. We read of her interests and hobbies, her little travels with her sister and her reduced circle of acquaintances and, certainly: it is not like the old rock start, partner of all imaginable sins, recently rehabilitated and telling the world the secrets that Itself (us) does covet but fear.
It is amazing: the depth of Wuthering Height's characters, the detailed accounts of their feelings and reactions, the very pace of the narration _all this work is absolutely unique for a woman of Emily's age, an indisputable gift to the woman she must have been. Really: is there anyone who could say where and how she got all this knowledge from? It is not only a question of material knowledge, we know. Life is an experiential journey; that is why people wish to travel and socialize and make new friends and meet people: they don't want to miss out anything. There is no more peace for the trouble soul these days that the advice from an old and battered poor devil, who has lived and is coming back home. However, Emily wrote like someone who already knew, who already has been there. Again: how could she know that much?
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
Emily was only 28 when she wrote the novel. Soon afterwards, she died from tuberculosis, "the romantic disease par excellence", as my friend A. commented last week. It leaves me in awe the fact that an extremely shy girl from Yorkshire could have had such knowledge on the human passions, sorrows and desires, particularly the evil ones. We read of her interests and hobbies, her little travels with her sister and her reduced circle of acquaintances and, certainly: it is not like the old rock start, partner of all imaginable sins, recently rehabilitated and telling the world the secrets that Itself (us) does covet but fear.
It is amazing: the depth of Wuthering Height's characters, the detailed accounts of their feelings and reactions, the very pace of the narration _all this work is absolutely unique for a woman of Emily's age, an indisputable gift to the woman she must have been. Really: is there anyone who could say where and how she got all this knowledge from? It is not only a question of material knowledge, we know. Life is an experiential journey; that is why people wish to travel and socialize and make new friends and meet people: they don't want to miss out anything. There is no more peace for the trouble soul these days that the advice from an old and battered poor devil, who has lived and is coming back home. However, Emily wrote like someone who already knew, who already has been there. Again: how could she know that much?
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
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