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Wuthering Heights: A Love Story for Long Winter Nights

2 days ago
3 min read

Classic Book Review


Some books are made for long winter nights. Wuthering Heights is one of them. Its story opens amid a blizzard. And a chill settles in quickly.



Early in Emily Brontë’s novel, a snowstorm strands the hapless Mr. Lockwood at a remote Yorkshire house, where the welcome is colder than the weather. Before long, a ghostly encounter makes the night even more unsettling. It is a deliciously eerie opening, especially for horror fans like me, and a fitting introduction to a novel that refuses to stay in any one genre.


Nearly 180 years after its publication, this strange classic still has the power to surprise—and a new film has brought it back into the cultural conversation.


Published in 1847 under the pseudonym Ellis Bell, Wuthering Heights was hardly the comforting Victorian romance readers might expect. Its setting is the windswept Yorkshire moors, where the weather seems to have a personality of its own. The cold, the darkness, and the isolation make it especially satisfying to read when winter presses against your own windows. Its central characters are passionate, proud, often cruel, and sometimes impossible to like. That, strangely enough, is part of the attraction I suppose.


At the heart of the story are Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, an orphan brought into her family’s household. They grow up bound together by a fierce emotional connection, but class expectations, wounded pride, and disastrous decisions pull them apart. Catherine chooses the socially respectable Edgar Linton, while Heathcliff transforms his heartbreak into a campaign of revenge that poisons two families and reaches into the next generation.


Calling this simply a tragic romance misses the point. Brontë gives us obsession, jealousy, inheritance, cruelty, and the ways childhood injuries can shape adult lives.


Heathcliff is not a misunderstood gentleman waiting to be redeemed by love. He can be vindictive and frightening. Catherine, meanwhile, is neither a helpless heroine nor an innocent victim. She has an alarming talent for making her own misery worse.


What struck me most is how boldly Brontë blends romance, horror, and family drama. One moment the novel seems to be about impossible love; the next, it is full of ghosts, vengeance, and generations of bitterness.


I’ll admit I got lost in places, particularly as the story moves between narrators and generations. Lockwood and the housekeeper Nelly Dean do not always make the journey easy, and we are left wondering how much of their accounts to trust. But even when I had to find my bearings, I could appreciate the imagination and daring that give this classic its stature.


I read the Penguin Classics version over two months, but you might also find the Modern Library version interesting as well, with an introduction by Silvia Moreno-Garcia.


Wuthering Heights is also receiving renewed attention in popular culture. Emerald Fennell’s 2026 film, released in U.S. theaters on February 13, stars Margot Robbie as Catherine and Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff. Its lavish, provocative interpretation has divided critics, especially over how freely it reshapes Brontë’s novel.


But the attention has given readers another reason to discover—or revisit—the book. The movie may emphasize spectacle and desire; the novel offers something darker, stranger, and far more expansive.


That is why Wuthering Heights endures. It refuses to provide tidy heroes, easy lessons, or a reassuring ending to every emotional wound. I did not always enjoy its characters—or find its twists easy to follow—but I came away respecting the novel’s remarkable ambition. Its mixture of passion and menace feels especially fitting on a dark winter evening.


If you have only seen a screen adaptation, read the novel. You may occasionally lose your way on the moors, as I did, but there is no mistaking the force of Brontë’s achievement. Its greatest surprise is not how romantic it is, but how fearlessly it explores what happens when love and cruelty become impossible to separate.

William Weger is the founder and creative director of Books & Bards. He is an editor and staff writer for Bookstonian, the company’s online literary magazine.

 

 Bookstonian offers literary enthusiasts thoughtful book reviews filled with insights and critiques of classics and contemporary works—whether fiction, nonfiction, biography, or poetry.


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