To avoid a very lengthy post, I decided to save a discussion of Heathcliff and Mr. Rochester for a second post.  Click for my first post on Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre.

After reading the two books, I was wondering what led both Bronte sisters to cast dark and brooding men as their heroes.  A friend told me that their father was rather dark and brooding too.  In fact, she told me that Heathcliff was based on their father–and for the Brontes’ sake, I sincerely hope not!

It wouldn’t be so bad if Mr. Rochester was based on their father.  A lot of the discussions I’ve had on Jane Eyre (and I’ve managed to have several!) have centered around whether or not Mr. Rochester is likable.  Jane’s likability is also an issue, but a liking for the book does seem to hinge on whether you consider Mr. Rochester a good romantic hero.

I come down on the side of yes.  Going into this, I expected to not like him because, after all–he has his first wife locked in a tower!  But I think I had a vague notion that he had driven her insane, which (unless there’s a lot going on Charlotte never told us) isn’t the case at all.  Considering the medical treatment of the time for the insane, I think locking her up in a tower is actually the most humane and merciful option.  Especially since, whatever Mrs. Rochester’s insanity is, it’s clearly a case of being a danger to herself and others.

So I don’t blame him for that.  Do I blame him for not telling Jane about the first wife, when he was planning to marry her?  Yes, definitely.  More on that in a bit.

And then of course he’s brooding and acerbic and unfriendly.  But he’s also had his life blighted by a marriage to an insane woman, who he hated prior to her insanity, and which society won’t let him out of.  That could give a person some issues.

When you come down to it, I believe that Mr. Rochester is basically a good guy, somewhat moody and not perfect, who got caught in a really, really difficult situation.  He immersed himself in unhealthy influences, and that comes out when he interacts with people.  I don’t believe that “the love of a good woman,” as the cliche goes, is going to save him–but I think getting him out of his situation and putting him around better, more positive people, will let the better person inside emerge.

Contrary to what the movies tell you, he’s also not very attractive–and I love that he’s so well-adjusted about it!  Near the end of the book, after he’s been beat up a bit (no details, trying not to give too much of a spoiler) he asks Jane if he’s very hideous.  And she says–“yes, but you always were.”  Which doesn’t seem to bother him at all!  I’m fascinated by the Phantom of the Opera’s issues with his appearance, but I also really enjoy a hero who doesn’t seem to mind being ugly.

As to that business of not telling Jane about the first wife, yeah, it was bad…but by the end of the book, Charlotte has punished him so thoroughly that I want to just forgive him and let him be happy.

And then there’s Heathcliff.  I believed there was a good man somewhere under Mr. Rochester’s brooding exterior.  I don’t believe that about Heathcliff.  For one thing, he’s even more caustic and unfriendly.  Mr. Rochester is generally just rather sarcastic and off-putting.  Heathcliff is out-and-out nasty and cruel.

I looked up “psychopathy,” and here’s what I found: “a mental disorder in which an individual manifests amoral and antisocial behavior, lack of ability to love or establish meaningful personal relationships, extreme egocentricity.”  That’s Heathcliff.

I wanted to like the poor, trodden-upon gypsy boy–but he wasn’t even a nice kid.  And Heathcliff just got worse when he grew up.  He treats everyone around him horribly, and never exhibits the slightest sympathy or remorse.  All of his goals seem to be about exacting revenge and inflicting pain.

His most significant relationship is with Cathy, of course–but I wasn’t all that convinced that they loved each other either.  I believed that Mr. Rochester loved Jane, would treat her well, and that they’d be happy together.  Cathy and Heathcliff never exhibit pleasant things like kindness, tenderness, or self-sacrifice, even to each other.  I think they’re obsessed with each other–but I don’t think it’s anything as healthy or positive as love.

Another friend tells me that Heathcliff is apparently a romantic lead archetype, which is a terrifying prospect.  This is where women get into trouble, isn’t it?  They think they’ve got Mr. Rochester, and he turns out to be Heathcliff.  It’s not always so easy to tell them apart in real life.

I also read The Eyre Affair recently, about a world where you can actually go into books.  I’d quite enjoy going to dinner at Thornfield Hall with Jane and Mr. Rochester.  You couldn’t pay me to go to dinner at Wuthering Heights.

I’m glad I read both books, though.  I’m glad I know more about Jane Eyre than that there’s a first wife locked up somewhere, and more about Wuthering Heights than that it has a character named Heathcliff–which is about where my knowledge stood a few months ago.  Even if my opinion of Wuthering Heights didn’t turn out very favorable, it’s nice to have an opinion about it.  And Jane Eyre was lovely.

Despite being an English major and a voracious reader for as long as I can remember, there are some key classics I’ve somehow missed.  As you may have seen on my challenges post, I’m endeavoring to catch up.  Most recently, I’ve ventured out onto the moor with the Bronte sisters.

First, I read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, and absolutely loved it.  I stayed up late two nights in a row reading (and kind of felt good about that as a reason for missing sleep!)  I’m not entirely sure what hooked me in.  I liked Jane pretty well as a character, and I liked Mr. Rochester–he was a good dark, brooding hero.  The plot was engaging, especially the middle section at Thornfield Hall.

If you don’t know the plot, Jane Eyre becomes a governess at gloomy Thornfield Hall, owned by gloomy Mr. Rochester.  Jane falls in love with Mr. Rochester, and he with her, but complications, to say the least, arise when…this is a spoiler, but everyone knows it, right?…it comes out that he already has an insane wife locked away in one of Thornfield’s towers.

It was a good plot, even if I already knew about the crazy wife.  I don’t sound all that enamoured describing it, do I?  But I think it was the writing I really loved.  It was a pleasure to find a classic that was really well-written and–imagine!–enjoyable to read.

I think I also kept reading, those nights I stayed up, because I wanted to see how certain scenes played out.  I took to heart the lesson of Sense and Sensibility, and watched a movie first (1944, with Orson Welles and Joan Fontaine).  It worked brilliantly–I didn’t wonder why Jane was only ten at the beginning, and I stayed up late waiting for Mr. Rochester to propose, because I knew it was coming any time.

After loving Jane Eyre, I was looking forward to Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.  A different sister, but I felt hopeful anyway.  I tried a movie first–1939, Laurence Olivier and Merle Oberon.

I had fair warning–I liked the movie Jane Eyre much better than the movie Wuthering Heights.  And the same was true for the books.

Wuthering Heights is about Heathcliff and Cathy–she’s a fine lady, and he’s a gypsy orphan her father takes in to live at Wuthering Heights (another gloomy manor on the moor).  They’re close as children, but divided by class as they grow up.  When Cathy marries someone else, Heathcliff’s darker side emerges.

At least, that’s how the plot usually seems to be described, regarding that last part.  But I’m not sure you can really say his dark side emerges, because I’m not convinced he has a better side.  And therein lies the problem.

I actively disliked Heathcliff and Cathy.  They’re self-absorbed, unfeeling, and very possibly should be locked up like Mrs. Rochester.  Cathy is emotionally unstable, manipulative, and just plain annoying at times.  She deliberately launches into hysterical fits and makes herself sick because she knows it will make the men around her alarmed.

Jane may be too reserved at times.  She’s a very strong, self-reliant character.  Her strength is in some ways passive.  She can hold herself together very well when Mr. Rochester asks her to watch a bleeding man one dark night, and whatever you do, don’t unlock that door that has strange noises coming from behind it.  Jane handles that.  But does she take the active step of afterwards saying, “Hey, Mr. Rochester, what the hell is going on?”  No–not even in more diplomatic words.

So while I had some issues with Jane, Cathy is in the other direction–having passionate outbursts all the time.  I had much bigger issues with Cathy.

And then on the subject of Heathcliff compared to Mr. Rochester…but I think I have a lot to say about them.  Which is why I’m coming back to the moor in a second post later this week.  Stay tuned!  🙂