Shag, Marry, Shove off a Cliff Meme (reprise)
I had to go and open my big mouth (via keyboard) and asked laurielover1912 for another three names. I think she knows me too well, and knows I like a challenge - she gave me Heathcliff, Mr Darcy and Edward Rochester.
What's a girl to do??
I'm going from the books here, as much as I can. Luckily, I've only seen one film version of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, and two versions of Pride and Prejudice, and I'm trying very hard not to let the actors or their portrayals influence me.
All three eminently shaggable. All three beautifully crafted, intense characters. All three quite my cup of tea, for many, many reasons, but in the end, I have to admit, only two are exactly that.
None of them 'shove off a cliff' material... this is a real toughie, and it made me have to be very honest with myself.
Ahhh... who am I kidding? I have a dark streak, and 'loves me angst' ... I also love the flawed character that has a personal triumph through and because of adversity, even though in the eyes of others, it may not seem to be the case. I think laurie knew exactly how I'd choose (which is quite scary, lol) My decision was pretty much instantaneous, it just took me a while to admit it to myself.
No matter how I choose, I have the feeling there will be people saying 'what the hell is she thinking??!!' in outrage, and preparing the pitchforks, torches, tar, feathers... and the rail to run me out of town on! So here goes:
SHAG: Well, really, how can you pass up Heathcliff? Obsessive, possessive, intense, passionate, relentless... and the list goes on...and on... and on.
How could someone pass up the incredible ego boost of having someone as thoroughly immersed in you, warts and all, as Heathcliff is in Cathy? Any longer term relationship would be an absolute disaster, doomed to fail, but the call to give in to that sort of temptation would be just too strong - and too good to pass up! Shagging someone who has that intensity focussed solely on you would be quite the transcendent experience, wouldn't it? So for Heathcliff, the steamy shagfest it is!
Fritz Eichenberg, Heathcliff Under the Tree, Cover Image from Wuthering Heights, 1943, wood engraving I love this piece!
And, just as a further illustration, here's an excerpt below. Many people just use the very last piece of this as a quote, but I feel it loses its meaning somewhat if the scene isn't painted before it:
The servants thought me gone to shake off the drowsiness of my protracted watch; in reality, my chief motive was seeing Mr. Heathcliff. … I wished, yet feared, to find him. I felt the terrible news must be told, and I longed to get it over; but how to do it I did not know. He was there ̶at least, a few yards further in the park; leant against an old ash-tree, his hat off, and his hair soaked with the dew tht had gathered on the budded branches, and fall pattering round him. He had been standing a long time in that position, for I saw a pair of ousels passing and repassing scarcely three feet from him, busy in building their nest, and regarding his proximity no more than that of a piece of timber. They flew off at my approach, and he raised his eyes and spoke:-'She's dead!' he said; 'I've not waited for you to learn that. Put your handkerchief away-don't snivel before me. Damn you all! She wants none of your tears!'.
I was weeping as much for him as her; we do sometimes pity creatures that have none of the feeling either for themselves or others. When I first looked into his face, I perceived that he had got intelligence of the catastrophe; and a foolish notion struck me that his heart was quelled and he prayed, because of his lip moved and his gaze was bent on the ground.
'Yes, she's dead!' I answered checking my sobs and drying my cheeks. 'Gone to heaven, I hope; where we may, every one, join her, if we take due warning and leave our evil ways to follow good'
'Did SHE take due warning, then?' asked Heathcliff, attempting a sneer. 'Did she die like a saint? Come, give me a true history of the event. How did ̶?'
He endeavoured to pronounce the name, but could not manage it; and compressing his mouth he held a silent combat with his inward agony, defying, meanwhile, my sympathy with an unflinching, ferocious stare. 'How did she die?' he resumed, at last-fain, notwithstanding his hardihood, to have support behind him; for, after the struggle, he trembled, in spite of himself, to his very finger-ends.
'Poor wretch!' I thought; 'you have a heart and nerves the same as your brother men! Why should you be anxious to conceal them? Your pride cannot blind God! You tempt him to wring them, till he forces a cry of humiliation.'
'Quietly as a lamb!' I answered, aloud. 'She drew a sigh, and stretched herself, like a child reviving, and sinking again to sleep' and five minutes after I felt one little pulse at her heart, and nothing more!'
'And-did she ever mention me?' he asked, hesitating, as if he dreaded the answer to his question would introduce details that he could not bear to hear.
'Her senses never returned: she recognised nobody from the time you left her,' I said. 'She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle dream-may she wake as kindly in the other world!'
'May she wake in torment!' he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not THERE-not in heaven-not perished-where? Oh! You said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer-I repeat it till my tongue stiffens-Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you-haunt me, then! The murdered DO haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts HAVE wandered on earth. Be with me always-take any form-drive me mad! only DO not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I CANNOT live without my life! I CANNOT live without my soul!'"
How's THAT for intense, relentless passion??? What a shag (preferably many) he'd be!!! Oh yes!...
Woe-betide you if you fell for him completely, though... someone like that could rip you to shreds.
Shaking him loose after said steamy affair may be a bit of a problem, though - so be prepared to beat a hasty midnight retreat, take on a new name, and perhaps a move abroad may be in order... but I still feel it would be worth it!!!
MARRY: Many of you will think me completely demented for this choice, but I have to be honest with myself here: Edward Rochester would be my choice. Most probably, in many's opinion, an extremely stupid one, considering the two tasty titbits left, but there it is.
He's flawed. Very flawed. He's made some absolutely horrible, selfish, cruel, bad decisions. One could try to justify them by saying he was in an absolutely awful situation, but really - there's no excuse for his actions, other than selfishness and sheer stupidity.
But here's the kicker... he's paid for them. In spades. He's learnt a very harsh lesson, and has had to look long and hard at himself, and has accepted that he deserved it, and most probably more.
He would NEVER take you for granted.
He'd appreciate fully his unbelievably good fortune in having you as his wife, and having a family. He'd be loyal, loving, caring, giving, etc etc - you'd feel cherished, but not coddled, and above all... respected. Along with that you'd get an intense, focussed lover, who could also be tender, if that's what you were in the mood for.
Once again ( I'm quite predictable, really, aren't I?) because he's not an easy person, you'd still be challenged, and never be bored, but he'd appreciate being cherished, so you could nurture to your heart's content, and always know it's fully appreciated and reciprocated, though not in a gushy mushy way, which suits me just fine. He'd never be pettily judgemental, though stubborn,snarky and dark on occasion... as I said, a challenge that may exasperate you at times, but never bore you. He's not a pretty boy (even before the fire), but has a strong, commanding, masculine presence - right up my alley! ( pervy pun completely intended - lol!)
I tried to find a piece of art, rather than a still, and I know this is based on Toby Stephens (Maggie Smith's son, in case you didn't know), but this piece really impressed me - it was done for 'Project Disability' where artists were asked to use their 'off' hand to create a work. This is by ( Expell-HUN ), and is in her deviantart gallery. She's also done some excellent Snape drawings and paintings, and I'm very impressed with this left handed piece done by a right hander -
Okay, now comes the people screaming 'Heresy!' and 'Quick! grab her... I've got the straightjacket!'
or perhaps even 'Torches, pitchforks, tar, feathers, rail...check. Now...let's get her!!!'
I'm going by the character in the book only, NOT the gorgeous Mr Firth, remember that!
SHOVE OFF A CLIFF: I'd have to walk Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy to the edge, and, after a good long shag, roll him over, and down he'd go... again, if I was lucky!
I love the book, and the fact that Elizabeth and he get together and find love and happiness, but for me, he's too much of an arrogant shit, and, even if he'd decided he loved me, I have the feeling that he'd always have it in the back of his head that he was better than me, and had 'married down'... sorry, but I really think that would be the case, once the honeymoon glow had worn off.
Oh... did I forget to mention I'd tie a bungee rope to him first, drag him up (well, I did shove him off a cliff, no one said anything about a bungee, did they?) stash him away somewhere nice and comfy, and visit him when I had the inclination.
Oh, sod it... I'm just going to post some lovely pics of Colin Firth as Mr Darcy... because I want to.
If I'm going to stash and save him as my boytoy, he'd damned well better look like this!
For anyone interested, the film versions I've seen are Wuthering Heights, with Laurence Olivier as Heathcliff, Jane Eyre, with Orson Welles as Edward Rochester, and the Pride and Prejudice versions with Laurence Olivier and Colin Firth as Mr Darcy ...
I'd like to thank laurie for this one - it was lots of fun, and it's gotten me reading Wuthering Heights again.
As a little bit of unrelated trivia, I often call my property "Withering Heights" as a joke.
And apologies for the fonts mucking up - I have no idea what's going on with LJ.
What's a girl to do??
I'm going from the books here, as much as I can. Luckily, I've only seen one film version of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, and two versions of Pride and Prejudice, and I'm trying very hard not to let the actors or their portrayals influence me.
All three eminently shaggable. All three beautifully crafted, intense characters. All three quite my cup of tea, for many, many reasons, but in the end, I have to admit, only two are exactly that.
None of them 'shove off a cliff' material... this is a real toughie, and it made me have to be very honest with myself.
Ahhh... who am I kidding? I have a dark streak, and 'loves me angst' ... I also love the flawed character that has a personal triumph through and because of adversity, even though in the eyes of others, it may not seem to be the case. I think laurie knew exactly how I'd choose (which is quite scary, lol) My decision was pretty much instantaneous, it just took me a while to admit it to myself.
No matter how I choose, I have the feeling there will be people saying 'what the hell is she thinking??!!' in outrage, and preparing the pitchforks, torches, tar, feathers... and the rail to run me out of town on! So here goes:
SHAG: Well, really, how can you pass up Heathcliff? Obsessive, possessive, intense, passionate, relentless... and the list goes on...and on... and on.
How could someone pass up the incredible ego boost of having someone as thoroughly immersed in you, warts and all, as Heathcliff is in Cathy? Any longer term relationship would be an absolute disaster, doomed to fail, but the call to give in to that sort of temptation would be just too strong - and too good to pass up! Shagging someone who has that intensity focussed solely on you would be quite the transcendent experience, wouldn't it? So for Heathcliff, the steamy shagfest it is!
Fritz Eichenberg, Heathcliff Under the Tree, Cover Image from Wuthering Heights, 1943, wood engraving I love this piece!
And, just as a further illustration, here's an excerpt below. Many people just use the very last piece of this as a quote, but I feel it loses its meaning somewhat if the scene isn't painted before it:
The servants thought me gone to shake off the drowsiness of my protracted watch; in reality, my chief motive was seeing Mr. Heathcliff. … I wished, yet feared, to find him. I felt the terrible news must be told, and I longed to get it over; but how to do it I did not know. He was there ̶at least, a few yards further in the park; leant against an old ash-tree, his hat off, and his hair soaked with the dew tht had gathered on the budded branches, and fall pattering round him. He had been standing a long time in that position, for I saw a pair of ousels passing and repassing scarcely three feet from him, busy in building their nest, and regarding his proximity no more than that of a piece of timber. They flew off at my approach, and he raised his eyes and spoke:-'She's dead!' he said; 'I've not waited for you to learn that. Put your handkerchief away-don't snivel before me. Damn you all! She wants none of your tears!'.
I was weeping as much for him as her; we do sometimes pity creatures that have none of the feeling either for themselves or others. When I first looked into his face, I perceived that he had got intelligence of the catastrophe; and a foolish notion struck me that his heart was quelled and he prayed, because of his lip moved and his gaze was bent on the ground.
'Yes, she's dead!' I answered checking my sobs and drying my cheeks. 'Gone to heaven, I hope; where we may, every one, join her, if we take due warning and leave our evil ways to follow good'
'Did SHE take due warning, then?' asked Heathcliff, attempting a sneer. 'Did she die like a saint? Come, give me a true history of the event. How did ̶?'
He endeavoured to pronounce the name, but could not manage it; and compressing his mouth he held a silent combat with his inward agony, defying, meanwhile, my sympathy with an unflinching, ferocious stare. 'How did she die?' he resumed, at last-fain, notwithstanding his hardihood, to have support behind him; for, after the struggle, he trembled, in spite of himself, to his very finger-ends.
'Poor wretch!' I thought; 'you have a heart and nerves the same as your brother men! Why should you be anxious to conceal them? Your pride cannot blind God! You tempt him to wring them, till he forces a cry of humiliation.'
'Quietly as a lamb!' I answered, aloud. 'She drew a sigh, and stretched herself, like a child reviving, and sinking again to sleep' and five minutes after I felt one little pulse at her heart, and nothing more!'
'And-did she ever mention me?' he asked, hesitating, as if he dreaded the answer to his question would introduce details that he could not bear to hear.
'Her senses never returned: she recognised nobody from the time you left her,' I said. 'She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle dream-may she wake as kindly in the other world!'
'May she wake in torment!' he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not THERE-not in heaven-not perished-where? Oh! You said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer-I repeat it till my tongue stiffens-Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you-haunt me, then! The murdered DO haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts HAVE wandered on earth. Be with me always-take any form-drive me mad! only DO not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I CANNOT live without my life! I CANNOT live without my soul!'"
How's THAT for intense, relentless passion??? What a shag (preferably many) he'd be!!! Oh yes!...
Woe-betide you if you fell for him completely, though... someone like that could rip you to shreds.
Shaking him loose after said steamy affair may be a bit of a problem, though - so be prepared to beat a hasty midnight retreat, take on a new name, and perhaps a move abroad may be in order... but I still feel it would be worth it!!!
MARRY: Many of you will think me completely demented for this choice, but I have to be honest with myself here: Edward Rochester would be my choice. Most probably, in many's opinion, an extremely stupid one, considering the two tasty titbits left, but there it is.
He's flawed. Very flawed. He's made some absolutely horrible, selfish, cruel, bad decisions. One could try to justify them by saying he was in an absolutely awful situation, but really - there's no excuse for his actions, other than selfishness and sheer stupidity.
But here's the kicker... he's paid for them. In spades. He's learnt a very harsh lesson, and has had to look long and hard at himself, and has accepted that he deserved it, and most probably more.
He would NEVER take you for granted.
He'd appreciate fully his unbelievably good fortune in having you as his wife, and having a family. He'd be loyal, loving, caring, giving, etc etc - you'd feel cherished, but not coddled, and above all... respected. Along with that you'd get an intense, focussed lover, who could also be tender, if that's what you were in the mood for.
Once again ( I'm quite predictable, really, aren't I?) because he's not an easy person, you'd still be challenged, and never be bored, but he'd appreciate being cherished, so you could nurture to your heart's content, and always know it's fully appreciated and reciprocated, though not in a gushy mushy way, which suits me just fine. He'd never be pettily judgemental, though stubborn,snarky and dark on occasion... as I said, a challenge that may exasperate you at times, but never bore you. He's not a pretty boy (even before the fire), but has a strong, commanding, masculine presence - right up my alley! ( pervy pun completely intended - lol!)
I tried to find a piece of art, rather than a still, and I know this is based on Toby Stephens (Maggie Smith's son, in case you didn't know), but this piece really impressed me - it was done for 'Project Disability' where artists were asked to use their 'off' hand to create a work. This is by ( Expell-HUN ), and is in her deviantart gallery. She's also done some excellent Snape drawings and paintings, and I'm very impressed with this left handed piece done by a right hander -
Okay, now comes the people screaming 'Heresy!' and 'Quick! grab her... I've got the straightjacket!'
or perhaps even 'Torches, pitchforks, tar, feathers, rail...check. Now...let's get her!!!'
I'm going by the character in the book only, NOT the gorgeous Mr Firth, remember that!
SHOVE OFF A CLIFF: I'd have to walk Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy to the edge, and, after a good long shag, roll him over, and down he'd go... again, if I was lucky!
I love the book, and the fact that Elizabeth and he get together and find love and happiness, but for me, he's too much of an arrogant shit, and, even if he'd decided he loved me, I have the feeling that he'd always have it in the back of his head that he was better than me, and had 'married down'... sorry, but I really think that would be the case, once the honeymoon glow had worn off.
Oh... did I forget to mention I'd tie a bungee rope to him first, drag him up (well, I did shove him off a cliff, no one said anything about a bungee, did they?) stash him away somewhere nice and comfy, and visit him when I had the inclination.
Oh, sod it... I'm just going to post some lovely pics of Colin Firth as Mr Darcy... because I want to.
If I'm going to stash and save him as my boytoy, he'd damned well better look like this!
For anyone interested, the film versions I've seen are Wuthering Heights, with Laurence Olivier as Heathcliff, Jane Eyre, with Orson Welles as Edward Rochester, and the Pride and Prejudice versions with Laurence Olivier and Colin Firth as Mr Darcy ...
I'd like to thank laurie for this one - it was lots of fun, and it's gotten me reading Wuthering Heights again.
As a little bit of unrelated trivia, I often call my property "Withering Heights" as a joke.
And apologies for the fonts mucking up - I have no idea what's going on with LJ.