CURSE YOU EMILY BRONTE
You've broken my streak.
I have loved enjoyed every single Bronte novel I've had to read lo this past year or so (The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - not infuriating! Villette - charming and hilarious! Jane Eyre - surprisingly awesome! The Professor - delightful, full of lulz! Shirley - totally amazing! )
But now, now....Charlotte, why must you ruin everything.
Imagine that last hissed in suitably dramatic (possibly deranged - look, I've been ill lately) fashion.
I can't even speak about Wuthering Heights without swearing so tomorrow's VicSex discussion of the text promises to be interesting. I am really looking forward to talking about it actually, because the virulence of my hatred for this book is a bit baffling even to me. Perhaps it will be a learning experience. Perhaps I will pass out from rage in front of my favourite Professor. We shall see.
To sum up:
I hate Wuthering Heights so much, that, should a BBC Lost in Austen-style opportunity arise for me to enter the text, I have given myself permission to abandon all decency and just beat Heathcliff to death with a shovel. Screw the integrity of the literary canon. He starves baby birds on the moors for funsies- the man must pay.
I have loved enjoyed every single Bronte novel I've had to read lo this past year or so (The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - not infuriating! Villette - charming and hilarious! Jane Eyre - surprisingly awesome! The Professor - delightful, full of lulz! Shirley - totally amazing! )
But now, now....Charlotte, why must you ruin everything.
Imagine that last hissed in suitably dramatic (possibly deranged - look, I've been ill lately) fashion.
I can't even speak about Wuthering Heights without swearing so tomorrow's VicSex discussion of the text promises to be interesting. I am really looking forward to talking about it actually, because the virulence of my hatred for this book is a bit baffling even to me. Perhaps it will be a learning experience. Perhaps I will pass out from rage in front of my favourite Professor. We shall see.
To sum up:
I hate Wuthering Heights so much, that, should a BBC Lost in Austen-style opportunity arise for me to enter the text, I have given myself permission to abandon all decency and just beat Heathcliff to death with a shovel. Screw the integrity of the literary canon. He starves baby birds on the moors for funsies- the man must pay.