A Crowd of Cousins

Chapters 18-21

We’ve passed over the next twelve years of life on the moors, during which it appears that those at Wuthering Heights and those at the Grange never meet. Nelly calls it "the happiest time of her life." which would be a far greater acolade were it not for the black cloud of death and despair which had, prior to, hung over them all.

Now we’re onto the descendants’ part of the novel. Get ready for Little Cathy and Little Linton. Little Cathy appears to have inherited some of her mother’s good qualities and yet, like everyone in this book, is possessed with her share of faults: notably being “saucy.”

Little Cathy's childhood is spent in stark contrast to that of her namesake. Linton, fearing that something might happen to her, like accidentally stumbling across Wuthering Heights or her relations over there, has kept her cloistered and cooped up. Surprisingly this is an entirely unsuccessful juncture. Whilst Linton is called away to Isabella's deathbed, to say goodbye and collect his nephew and Heathcliff's son, Little Cathy is bounding over the hills and dale like a telletubby and straight into Hareton's path. Their encounter is a bit ridiculous: dogs are attacked, (dogs play a rather large role in this novel…) there's blood, crying, and hysterics from Cathy when she discovers that Hareton is her cousin - such horror.

Her other cousin arrives soon after, pale and polar opposite to his father in every way possible. He seems to be a bit of a wimp and wants to drink milk all the time. That doesn't stop Heathcliff from snatching him from the Grange and hiding him away.

We skip another two years until the cousins all meet again. Once more it’s due to Little Cathy's bounding across fields and straight into Hareton, this time accompanied by Heathcliff. Shortly after he reveals to Nelly his whole scheme, getting the cousins (his son and Linton’s daughter) to fall in love and therefore attaching his family to the Earnshaws and the Lintons, not to mention ensuring that he would be heir to everything – he’s basically counting down the days till his son’s death. Charming.

I’ve just gone back to the beginning of the novel and reread Lockwood’s second visit to Wuthering Heights where he meets Little Cathy (although he doesn’t know who she is) who has been widowed after marrying Linton. Hareton was also there and as uncommunicative then as he is now. It’s sad actually, although Little Cathy is every bit as irritating as her mother it’s still depressing to have had that picture of her painted already – dejected and sitting alone in front of the fire, practically spitting at anyone who comes near her.

Chapter 21 details how Little Cathy and Little Linton bond over making fun of Hareton’s inability to read (a lovely pair indeed) and then start an illicit romance conducted through notes delivered by the milkboy. Nelly burns the letters as soon as she discovers them. You’d have thought she’d have learned that keeping teenage lovers apart isn’t always the most successful course of action, but no, she has not. I’m not surprised at this budding romance, given that there seems to be only two families in the whole of Yorkshire at the time. No variety in names nor in potential spouses it appears.

Reading about the second generation of Cathys and Lintons is quite strange at times; especially because all of the young folk are unaware of the weighty history that’s hanging above them. I’m actually enjoying the interweaving storylines now – maybe because I know more than the characters do. Who knows, maybe I’ll even end up liking the book after all….

Unlikely. 

The arrival of Catherine Number 2

Chapters 14-17

Recently I found out that Wuthering Heights was beaten by Jane Eyre on the BBC 100 Books List. At around the midway point of the novel, I could not agree more. Maybe Emily should have just decided that writing was Charlotte's thing. That would have been okay, not all siblings are good at the same things. We all have our strengths.

Cathy's dead. Apparently I should be more cut up about that. I'm not. I'm taking the Bronte approach to death. Accepting that it was coming all along and not really getting too worked up about it, cause let's face it, no one really liked them anyway. Hindley is also dead and before he was cold in his grave Nelly also detailed the demise of both Isabella and Linton. In fairness they don't die for another thirteen years, but it seems a little overly maudlin to describe all four deaths within the space of a few chapters. I feel like JK Rowling took a leaf out of Bronte's book for the last chapters of Deathly Hallows. 

Before Catherine's death she gave birth to a baby girl, also called Catherine - CAUSE THERE AREN'T ENOUGH OF THOSE ALREADY. Who seems to have been unceremoniously ignored and rejected in light of her mother's death. Although, this changes later on and Linton becomes a fairly okay father. Bronte draws a comparison between Linton dealing with his child after his wife's death and that of Hindley, who went a little off the rails: drank himself into oblivion, attempted several murders, including that of his son by throwing him off the balcony to be saved by Heathcliff, losing all of his money and then finally dying after attacking Heathcliff with a gun and a knife. I suppose anyone looks like a great paternal figure when compared to that.

I've also been treated to more of that four people removed narration which I love so much. Isabella manages to escape Wuthering Heights and run back to the Grange before disappearing. She gives the account of Hindley's unsuccessful attempt on Heathcliff's life. Including her own implicit participation, both encouraging Hindley and warning Heathcliff that he was going to die, makes her totally innocent in the whole thing - right? I kind of like Isabella, she seems to have treated all this melodrama with exactly the right amount of OMG What is my Life?! Shown by her hasty and definite departure. Isabella also gave birth to a son just after she disappeared, called Linton. Show some imagination PLEASE?!

I'm about to embark on Chapter 18. For all that I'm uninterested in the story I have to admit that I like the way Bronte writes. It's quick and descriptive and I'm sure if I was more invested in the characters I would be turning the pages at the speed of noughts. My average velocity more closely resembles that of a glacier pre-global warming.