This week I finished reading Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights, and even though my initial reaction was that I did not love the novel (so much darker than her sister’s Jane Eyre), I couldn’t get the book out of my mind. Whatever else that may mean, I think it means it’s a good book.
The plot of Wuthering Heights is somewhat convoluted, but the basic narrative surrounds the love affair between Cathy (Catherine) Earnshaw and Heathcliff. When Cathy and her brother Hindley are children, their father arrives home with an orphan child, the “gypsy” Heathcliff (whether Heathcliff is actually a gypsy is debatable). Hindley never ceases to resent Heathcliff, but Cathy and Heathcliff become fast friends, and the two share the same wild, passionate nature. As the children grow older, however, Cathy decides to marry the wealthy Edgar Linton instead of Heathcliff (even though by her own admission she loves Heathcliff), since Heathcliff’s standing is so decidedly below Cathy’s. When Heathcliff reappears after their marriage, Edgar insists that Cathy choose between the two men, and Cathy becomes so ill that she never fully recovers and dies in childbirth. Her daughter, also named Cathy, survives. As Heathcliff gazes at the dead Catherine, he begs her to haunt and torment him rather than leave him alone, and he plans how he can torment the living.
By this point, the novel is already more a tale of elaborate revenge than a love story (think The Count of Monte Cristo), and out of spite, Heathcliff marries Edgar’s sister, who bears him a sickly son named Linton. Heathcliff manages to wrest the Earnshaw estate away from Cathy’s brother Hindley, and he allows Hindley’s son Hareton to grow up savage and uneducated (as he himself did). Heathcliff’s final act of revenge is to force a marriage between Catherine’s daughter, Cathy, and his own son Linton—a marriage which transfers Catherine’s portion of the Earnshaw estate to Heathcliff once Linton dies. (Which, fortunately, is soon—he’s a petulant and annoying character.) By the end of the novel, Heathcliff has set himself up to have everything (except, of course, Catherine—the only thing he wanted). But once Linton is dead, the young Cathy and Hareton (doubles of Catherine and Heathcliff as children) fall in love, and Heathcliff cannot bring himself to sever their connection, even though it would be the final act of his revenge. Heathcliff becomes listless and seems haunted; he refuses to eat and simply wastes away, and the novel ends with his death and the implication that he and Catherine continue to haunt the moors.
One of the most powerful aspects of Wuthering Heights, for me, is its emphasis on double characters. Never, outside of Dostoevsky, have I seen a novel in which characters seem to share souls and selves in such spiritually profound ways. These characters can literally die and yet it makes only a small impact in their existence—in all the important ways, they are still functional in the novel. In one of the most poignant and famous passages, Cathy explains that she loves Heathcliff because they are essentially the same person: “I love him . . . because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” Moments later, she explains that Heathcliff is so much an extension of herself that she lives through him and because of him:
I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff’s miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning; my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger; I should not seem a part of it. . . . I am Heathcliff!
Through Heathcliff, Cathy transcends death—she not only haunts him, she lives through him. And many of the other characters also transcend death in a way, through their double characters. By the end of the novel, Heathcliff has become Hareton and Catherine has become her daughter. The novel is haunted by ghosts—not just Catherine’s, but everyone’s. In some ways this is comforting—it gives the novel a chance to right wrongs—but in some ways it is terrifying, because it implies that the tragedies of the novel (which, we cannot ignore, are brought about largely through disparities between social classes) will also continue to occur.
It might be a chilling thought, but Wuthering Heights is a chilling book. It’s a novel that makes you feel cold, because it’s filled with images of wind-swept moors, and rain-lashed window panes, and ghosts with icy fingers who nevertheless bleed real blood.
After such a weighty discussion of the novel, it might seem strange to launch into a recipe, but I assure you they were connected in my mind, simply because of the novel’s pervasive coldness. So, even though it hasn’t been extremely cold this week, I still felt like making something warming—and thus, this creamy steak and potato soup and hearty beer bread. Something to take the chill off. . .
This beer bread is incredibly simple to make, because it uses beer instead of yeast, and so it doesn’t need time to rise. You can use any variety of beer you’d like—I used Boulevard Wheat and was pretty happy with the results. Some recipes state that if you use a more “hoppy” beer, the bread could have more of a bitter taste.
Beer Bread
3 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 ½ teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons sugar
12 ounces of beer
3 tablespoons melted butter
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix together the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Add beer and stir until dry ingredients are incorporated. Do not overmix.
2. Pour batter into a greased 9 x 5 inch loaf pan. Pour melted butter over the loaf.
3. Bake at 375 for 45-60 minutes or until the crust is golden brown. (Different varieties of beer may affect the baking time. Add more time as needed.)
Recipe adapted from Honest Fare
Steak and Potato Soup
1 pound steak, cubed
1 onion, chopped
3 carrots, sliced
3 stalks celery
3 cloves garlic
2 tomatoes, chopped
1 package of fresh mushrooms, sliced
6 medium sized potatoes
3 tablespoons butter
¼ cup flour, plus extra flour for dredging
4 cups beef broth
1 cup half and half (I use fat free!)
2 bay leaves
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
Salt and pepper to taste
1. Poke holes in potatoes with a fork. Boil potatoes in a large pot of water for about 15 minutes. Remove from the water to cool.
2. Dredge the steak pieces in flour and ground pepper. Cook in a skillet until browned. Reserve any juices.
3. In a large stockpot, melt butter and add steak juices. Add onions, garlic, and flour. Cook until the onions are translucent.
4. Add the onions, celery, tomatoes, and beef broth. Stir in potatoes and steak pieces. Add bay leaves and nutmeg. Bring to a boil.
5. Once the soup begins to thicken, add half and half. Taste the soup and add salt and pepper to taste. Simmer for an hour before serving.
No comments:
Post a Comment