Thoughts of an Aspiring Teenage Writer

After reading The Sweet Far Thing, I decided to pay a visit to my long abandoned shelf of classics and fished out a collected volume of the Bronte sisters’ books. Since I’d already read and loved Jane Eyre (although the fact that Mr. Rochester is about the same age as my dad never fails to freak me out) I decided to try my hands on Wuthering Heights, the book of Charlotte Bronte’s younger sister, Emily.

Wow. I’ve heard a lot of great things about Wuthering Heights, but nothing could prepare me for its awesome, tragic story…

I, of course, almost always falling for the Byornic heroes, immediately (at first sight, LOL) grew fond of the dark and brooding Heathcliff, the rather mad, but pitiful “hero” of the story.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the book, I’ll summarize it…with the help of Wikipedia. (I’ve copy and pasted bits and pieces of the summary there, and added my own comments)

The story starts when Mr. Lockwood, a rather rude/strange dude (or that was his impression on me) that deserts the hubbub of London (after a “scandalous” affair that was really a big misunderstanding but ended up kind of sort of ruining his reputation) to retreat into the isolation of the Yorkshire Moors of Northern England. (I think.) He rents a house called Thrushcross Grange, from the extremely introverted and rather unfriendly Mr. Heathcliff. (This is the year 1801…)

Lockwood, despite his own claimed desire of hermitage, goes to visit Heathcliff at Wuthering Heights and is amazed at how antipathetic Heathcliff is, and basically harasses Heathcliff and the other unsocial occupants…trying to get a good conversation going. (-put awkward turtle here-) Because of a blizzard, he spends the night at Wuthering Heights and has a terrifying dream: the ghost of Catherine Earnshaw, a young girl, pleads to be admitted to the house from outside.

Intrigued, Lockwood asks the housekeeper Nelly Dean to tell the story of Heathcliff and Wuthering Heights when he later on goes back to the Grange and is recovering from a cold.

Nelly takes over the narration (literally, Lockwood no longer becomes “I”) and begins her story thirty years earlier, when Heathcliff, a orphaned beggar child living on the streets, is brought to Wuthering Heights by the then-owner, Mr. Earnshaw, and raised as his own. He is often described as “dark” or “gypsy”… I think he’s probably Indian. (All of the film adaptations of Wuthering Heights gets this wrong, according to Wikipedia. LOL)

(This is one version of Heathcliff, and as Wikipedia says, the actor is clearly of European descent.)

Earnshaw’s daughter Catherine (the same one that appeared in Lockwood’s nightmare in the present) becomes Heathcliff’s inseparable friend. Her brother Hindley, however, resents Heathcliff, because Heathcliff is more loved by his father than he is. Mr. Earnshaw dies three years later, and Hindley (who marries a woman named Frances) takes over the estate.

Taking full advantage of the fact that Mr. Earnshaw is no longer there to protect Heathcliff, he forces him to work as a hired hand, completely demolishing his social status and forcing him to work like a servant. In the meantime, Catherine becomes friends with a neighbour family, the Lintons of Thrushcross Grange. She is especially attached to the refined and mild young Edgar Linton, whom Heathcliff instantly dislikes. (And thus begins the love triangle.)

A year later, Hindley’s wife dies, apparently of consumption (tuberculosis…which almost everyone seemed to die of back then…i.e. practically Edgar Allen Poe’s entire family…many of you will remember the video we watched in PACE), shortly after giving birth to a son, Hareton…and Hindley becomes a severe alcoholic.

Some two years after that, Catherine agrees to marry Edgar…literally because she isn’t willing to give up her social status and marry Heathcliff, who literally has no money. She is so selfish…and is all like: Well, I’ll marry Edgar…even though I love Heathcliff. Oh, well, I’ll still be able to see Heathcliff and love him and hang out with him…blah blah blah…(basically two-timing, I was cursing her the entire scene…) and Heathcliff overhears Catherine’s explanation that it would be “degrading” to marry him. Heathcliff storms out and leaves Wuthering Heights, not hearing Catherine’s continuing declarations that Heathcliff is as much a part of her as the rocks are to the earth beneath.

Catherine marries Edgar, and is initially very happy. Some time later, Heathcliff returns, intent on destroying those who prevent him from being with Catherine. He has, mysteriously, become very wealthy. (And how he became wealthy, the reader never finds out…)Through loans he has made to the drunken and dissipated Hindley that Hindley cannot repay, he takes ownership of Wuthering Heights upon Hindley’s death. Intent on ruining Edgar, Heathcliff basically becomes almost heartless and elopes with Edgar’s sister Isabella, which places him in a position to inherit Thrushcross Grange upon Edgar’s death.

Catherine becomes very ill after Heathcliff’s return and dies a few hours after giving birth to a daughter also named Catherine, or Cathy. Heathcliff becomes only more bitter and vengeful. Isabella flees her abusive marriage a month later, and subsequently gives birth to a boy, Linton. At around the same time, Hindley dies.

Heathcliff takes ownership of Wuthering Heights, and vows to raise Hindley’s son Hareton with as much neglect as he had suffered at Hindley’s hands years earlier. (Aw…-sniff-)

Twelve years later, the dying Isabella asks Edgar to raise Heathcliff’s son, Linton…who I don’t really like because he’s a crybaby who complains too much…like: “wah, my throat hurts…do something about it! wahh…” And I didn’t appreciate the fact that he strangely looked nothing like Heathcliff…which is highly unlikely because Heathcliff’s traits are dominant. (And Linton IS Heathcliff’s son…and not the product of some scandalous love affair)

 However, Heathcliff finds out about this and takes the sickly, spoiled child to Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff has nothing but contempt for his son, but delights in the idea of him ruling the property of his enemies. (-insert evil laugh here-)

To that end, a few years later, Heathcliff attempts to persuade young Cathy to marry Linton. Cathy refuses, so Heathcliff kidnaps her and forces the two to marry. Soon after, Edgar Linton dies, followed shortly by Linton Heathcliff. This leaves Cathy a widow and a virtual prisoner at Wuthering Heights, as Heathcliff has gained complete control of both Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange.

It is at this point in the narrative that Lockwood arrived, taking possession of Thrushcross Grange, and hearing Nelly Dean’s story. Shocked, Lockwood leaves for London.

During his absence from the area, however, events reach a climax that Nelly describes when he returns a year later. Cathy gradually softens toward her rough, uneducated cousin Hareton, just as her mother was tender towards Heathcliff. When Heathcliff is confronted by Cathy and Hareton’s love, notably Hareton’s determination to protect the defiant Cathy from Heathcliff’s attack, he seems to suffer a mental break from reality and sees Catherine’s ghost.

 He abandons his life-long vendetta and dies somewhat mad…(he wanders alone at night instead of sleeping, seems to see things that no one else can, refuses to eat and drink, has weird mood swings, etc) and happy that he’s (hopefully) rejoining Catherine.

Free from Heathcliff, Cathy and Hareton marry. Heathcliff is buried next to Catherine (the elder), and the story ends with Lockwood visiting the grave, unsure of what to feel.

Although some parts of the story are greatly disturbing and leave you wondering if Heathcliff is truly heartless, I loved the book and was amazed at Emily Bronte’s originality. (And I admit, I spent a great amount of time wishing that I could learn more about Heathcliff.) And, one character in particular–Joseph–never failed to annoy me with his Yorkshire Dialect…most of the time I had no idea what he was saying and just skipped over what he said.

Oh, and check out this rather creepy observation made by Wikipedia:
“Ghosts also play a role in the novel. Lockwood has a horrible vision of Catherine (the elder) as a child, appearing at the window of her old chamber at Wuthering Heights and begging to be allowed in. When Heathcliff dies, he is found in the bedroom with the window open, raising the possibility that Catherine’s ghost entered Wuthering Heights just as Lockwood saw in his dream.”

They’re apparently making a new film adaptation of Wuthering Heights…which has a release date of TBA. (It better be good…)

Now, I shall reread Jane Eyre.

I know I’ve officially dubbed “Breaking Dawn” the best book of the year, but “The Sweet Far Thing” has me hoping that I can name two “best book(s) of the year”. Yeah, it’s that good…maybe even better.
(Spoiler alert for both books)

I love Breaking Dawn and the characters in that series. I really do. When I look back on the books and read them, it feels as if old friends have come to visit. I know them equally well, Alice, Jasper, Bella, Edward…they are all familiar to me and I can sort of guess how the characters will react to certain situations. Like, for example, when I’m scooping some ice cream into the bowl, I imagine Jacob (and maybe even Seth) grabbing the whole container and shoving it in his mouth…or accidentally snapping the spoon in half in his haste to get the ice cream.

I think that is the true beauty of Stephenie Meyer’s books. When I first started reading Twilight–which is probably well before any of you read it, when it was still ‘new’ and no one knew how awesome it was–it felt as though all the characters–especially Edward (fangirl blush)–had taken me into their wing, shielding me from the cruelties of reality. Of the loneliness that had crept within my heart. (Dramatic, I know, but true…I believe I was suffering some sort of depression back then. It’s not always that great being an only child, you know.)

But there is something even better about The Sweet Far Thing. Sure, the Twilight Saga outdoes the Gemma Doyle Trilogy in many aspects (such as romantic tension, romantic scenes, familiarity of the characters…etc) but it lacks some of the things that The Sweet Far Thing demonstrates.

1.) It has a certain message in it, whether or not Libba Bray intended it to be there:
No matter how much you try to deny it and hide it, Reality will always come crashing down on you…and it’s best to just buckle up and deal with it, because denial only makes things worse.

Towards the beginning of the book, the reader is once again reunited with Gemma, who is somewhat the same and somehow different. She longs for Kartik to love her as deeply as she loves him, she wishes her father–a drug addict–would return to being the shining white knight he seemed to be in he childhood days…misses the security that she’d always felt when she was with him. She also is desperate (she’s in too much denial by then to admit this, but certain scenes prove it) to fit in, to belong in the secret gossips of normal ladies, to find her little niche in the harsh and unbending society of Victorian England. And when the magic courses in her veins again, the temptation is just too much for her, and she ends of using the magic to make things “better”, but only ends up spiraling deeper into denial.

Later on in the book, the consequences of her bewitching everyone around her roars into view and all hell seems to break loose. (and it almost does) In order to fight the disasters that she herself created, she has to–in the end–give up her fantasies and try to work out her own way through, without magic, just like the rest of us.

And in the end, because of her efforts, she does sort of get a happy ending. Not the fairy tale sort of one that Breaking Dawn offers, but the realistic, temporary one with risks, fears, and sadness. (ie: Kartik ends up sacrificing himself so that Gemma can live, her father is still a drug addict and is slowly dying, she moves to America–a place where there is nothing but insecurity, without her family and virtually none of the luxuries that she had back in England–her mother is still dead, there is still etc, there is still the matter of trying to appease the woodland creatures back at the realms and forming an alliance that she should have done in the first place.)

2. There is such great character development.
I can compare “A Great and Terrible Beauty” and “The Sweet Far Thing” and almost-tearfully acknowledge how grown up she has become…(like some parent sending their children off to college -blows nose in handkerchief-)

Also, even the side characters like Pippa, the woodland creatures, Circe (who was once the villain!), Kartik, Felicity, and Ann experience development. Unlike Breaking Dawn, where the side characters pretty much stay the same, these characters face their own inner conflicts, their own deep desires and pull through in the end, for better or worse.

I especially like Ann’s story, about how she went from an emo-like girl (people cut themselves back then?!) that hated herself and had zero self-confidence, but with a victory over her inner struggles, she, in the end, learns to accept that she is neither beautiful or rich but realizes that she can still accomplish her dreams of becoming an actress with what God has given her ((hey, they’re Christian, sorry if I offend)). And although the risks are high and it will be more difficult for her to pull through because of her lack of beauty, she charges on anyway.

3. The reader will find her/himself immersed in the customs, traditions, and secret “rules” of the rigid Victorian England structure.

Libba Bray certainly did a lot of research (as she mentioned earlier on in “AGATB”). The moment you pick up the book, you are completely overwhelmed by the lush descriptions and allusions that it’s hard to believe that Libba Bray is neither from that period nor British.

4. Gemma reminds me of myself…and I’m sure many teenagers feel that way, or I don’t think it would have been a best seller.

She faces the same identity crisis that most teens face, the sense of not belonging anyway, the heated rebellion in which we feel as though no one understands and pushes people away. Libba Bray does a great job of relating with this familiar feeling and Gemma feels real…even realer than Bella.

My Conclusion: They’re both awesome books and they complete each other.

Like Stephenie Meyer said in one of her interviews, “there is no such thing as a perfect book”. Breaking Dawn and The Sweet Far Thing both have their good points and bad points, just like humans. It kind of feels as though they were made for each other (LOL SOULMATES) and can be sort of blended in to the perfect book that doesn’t exist.

All in all, I enjoyed both books. Both had me waking up ridiculously early–and I wake up pretty early on most days so it was frighteningly early (like, it’s amazing I don’t collapse in exhaustion right this minute early)–and begging for mercy from the authors so that the books would miraculously shrink in size (they’re both over 500 pages) and I’d still find out what happens in the end. I highly recommend both of them, but suggest you read it on a weekend or right now when school is not yet upon us, so that your world doesn’t turn upside down.

(FYI: It is now 7:07 AM…I woke up to the storm at 3:30, and have been awake ever since…finishing off The Sweet Far Thing)