Catherine Earnshaw declares "whatever our souls are made of, (Heathcliff's) and mine are the same". But we come to learn throughout Wuthering Heights that love is not enough.
Emily Brontë creates an expectation of joyous love in the portrayal of Catherine and Healthcliff's childhood. They are inseparable comrades, partners in crime and mischievous playmates. But the love that naturally springs from this relationship soon faces hard trials.
A simple misunderstanding separates the two friends. Following this, Catherine marries Linton and no real reconciliation can be possible. The two characters, who the reader knows to be ideal for each other remain forever separated by pride and misfortune.
A love based in the innocence of children must be considered a pure one. Brontë shows us that even this sacred force is fragile and breakable, awarding true love to the fortunate and self-deluded. Consequently, luck will play a part in the marriage of Hareton and Cathy that is alluded to in the closing of the novel.
Unfortunately, the influence of chance is inescapable in all matters of the fickle heart.
-The English Student
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Ligeia
We live, love and lament.
Through our lives we meet people and become affectionate to them. Inevitably, things fall apart, affection wanes and the fire of passion grows cold. Somehow, regardless of the outcome of such relationships, these people will always be with us. They linger in our minds, filling the confident with fear and the proud with regret.
Poe's Ligeia exemplifies this. Our narrator truly loved Ligeia but her brilliance, beauty and their passion, was transient. She dies, crushing the protagonist. Yet he learns to love again and even claims to be content. But we cannot believe this assertion. The lingering remorse and regret concerning his lost love physically materialise and haunt him.
Ligeia will never die. Her piercing black eyes refuse to close. The one that we cherished, idolised, even loved and what we did to lose them, will not be forgotten in this life...
"nor unto death utterly..."
-The English Student
Through our lives we meet people and become affectionate to them. Inevitably, things fall apart, affection wanes and the fire of passion grows cold. Somehow, regardless of the outcome of such relationships, these people will always be with us. They linger in our minds, filling the confident with fear and the proud with regret.
Poe's Ligeia exemplifies this. Our narrator truly loved Ligeia but her brilliance, beauty and their passion, was transient. She dies, crushing the protagonist. Yet he learns to love again and even claims to be content. But we cannot believe this assertion. The lingering remorse and regret concerning his lost love physically materialise and haunt him.
Ligeia will never die. Her piercing black eyes refuse to close. The one that we cherished, idolised, even loved and what we did to lose them, will not be forgotten in this life...
"nor unto death utterly..."
-The English Student
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