“She burned too bright for this world” –Wuthering Heights
This is goth glory at its finest! For anyone that loves ghosts and romance, this television series should suffice your cravings. The Victorian period had many Gothic stories, and it was all the rage with the ladies. Emily Bronte couldn’t have written at a better time. But this is not the book, please don’t feel so forward as to defend the source, and foresake my bias. This is a review on just this particular TV series, broadcasted by PBS in 2009.
Heathcliff is a dark, gypsy boy adopted by an English aristocrat family. As a child, he spent everyday with the daughter of the house, Catherine, and made her brother quite jealous of their friendship. Lots of family politics occur, which lead to the grim fate of Catherine’s ghost haunting Heathcliff long after everyone’s death, in hopes to rekindle the love they shared and were unkindly denied in the world of the living. Trust me when I say “It’s complicated.”
This beautiful dark tale is summed up in this mini series quite well, and throws you into this Byronic Heroes shoes swiftly when you see him sleep with Catherine’s corpse, in her shovelled out grave. I fell in love immediately. This man is my hero. Undying love was never truer than in Wuthering Heights. I must say that having another non-brown gypsy boy represent Heathcliff in yet another Wuthering Heights adaptation is disappointing, but I suppose one has to rely on the media industry somehow. Being a plebian does no good for ratings.
Try to keep up with the details, and if you could, the culture of the time. Gambling was as deadly as marrying in the wrong social class, and vice versa in this story. Gray magic and gypsy spells were conjured, and Heathcliff’s mane flying as he rides his steed makes for an entertaining icon of romantic sexiness. On the other hand, Catherine being playful and mischievous qualms the lolita complex inside us all, as she transforms into a lady halfway through the story. It’s all sad and special, when watching each episode ruin your life, but the ending just eases the pain and torture, and makes you wish your tears could’ve continued and allowed you to rest at last. But alas, the ending should have been an epilogue, and my least favorite part closes the story with the next generation’s hope.
I am horrible at spoiling, and not spoiling stories, so you’ll have to forgive me if I demand an arm cutting finish to the story, rather than a “happily ever after.” I love Wuthering Heights as the haunt, and less of the resolve. There lays a romance in the barrier of the cold living society and the warm embrace of death, and more so I wish to be Heathcliff yearning for his Catherine, and die as him in this dark tale of an unfair reality.
Take my advice, or not, but if want an awesome romance where your angst can kill, take this to heart. This television series sucked me in to be a fan, and rightfully so. It’s brilliant, and should have been honored when the authoress was still alive, rather than criticized badly. But then again, who wasn’t?