Wuthering Heights: Vintage Classics
Autor Emily Bronteen Limba Engleză Paperback – 5 noi 2015
Din seria Vintage Classics
-
Preț: 61.05 lei -
Preț: 139.49 lei - 21%
Preț: 54.31 lei -
Preț: 94.92 lei - 27%
Preț: 77.93 lei - 25%
Preț: 58.18 lei -
Preț: 92.87 lei - 21%
Preț: 54.27 lei - 18%
Preț: 74.51 lei - 22%
Preț: 42.46 lei -
Preț: 114.97 lei - 28%
Preț: 76.83 lei - 22%
Preț: 53.05 lei - 21%
Preț: 53.85 lei - 21%
Preț: 54.06 lei - 22%
Preț: 52.48 lei - 20%
Preț: 60.38 lei - 22%
Preț: 53.12 lei - 22%
Preț: 58.55 lei - 26%
Preț: 67.22 lei - 22%
Preț: 53.16 lei -
Preț: 97.80 lei - 21%
Preț: 53.69 lei - 27%
Preț: 54.85 lei - 27%
Preț: 54.98 lei - 20%
Preț: 55.76 lei - 20%
Preț: 82.79 lei - 21%
Preț: 53.40 lei - 26%
Preț: 57.25 lei - 38%
Preț: 41.50 lei - 21%
Preț: 54.06 lei - 18%
Preț: 63.39 lei - 22%
Preț: 52.46 lei - 20%
Preț: 54.91 lei - 29%
Preț: 65.72 lei - 20%
Preț: 55.36 lei - 21%
Preț: 53.71 lei - 21%
Preț: 54.06 lei - 30%
Preț: 46.93 lei - 30%
Preț: 38.31 lei - 20%
Preț: 55.04 lei - 19%
Preț: 61.58 lei -
Preț: 128.21 lei - 20%
Preț: 55.22 lei - 19%
Preț: 74.00 lei - 20%
Preț: 44.73 lei - 22%
Preț: 57.96 lei - 30%
Preț: 63.56 lei - 21%
Preț: 53.82 lei - 21%
Preț: 53.50 lei
Preț: 51.76 lei
Preț vechi: 69.97 lei
-26%
Puncte Express: 78
Preț estimativ în valută:
9.16€ • 10.67$ • 7.96£
9.16€ • 10.67$ • 7.96£
Carte disponibilă
Livrare economică 05-11 februarie
Livrare express 16-22 ianuarie pentru 42.75 lei
Preluare comenzi: 021 569.72.76
Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781784870744
ISBN-10: 1784870749
Pagini: 418
Dimensiuni: 130 x 177 x 32 mm
Greutate: 0.33 kg
Editura: Random House
Seria Vintage Classics
ISBN-10: 1784870749
Pagini: 418
Dimensiuni: 130 x 177 x 32 mm
Greutate: 0.33 kg
Editura: Random House
Seria Vintage Classics
V-ar putea interesa
-
Pride and PrejudiceJane AustenPreț: 24.60 lei -
Gulliver's TravelsJonathan SwiftPreț: 24.60 lei -
The Picture of Dorian GrayOscar WildePreț: 24.60 lei -
Preț: 24.60 lei -
The Little PrinceAntoine de Saint-Exupéry-28%Preț: 45.23 lei62.47 lei -
The Wonderful Wizard Of OzFrank L BaumPreț: 32.45 lei -
The HobbitJ.R.R. TolkienPreț: 98.41 lei -
Lord of the FliesWilliam GoldingPreț: 68.38 lei -
Harry Potter and the Chamber of SecretsJ. K. Rowling-26%Preț: 46.93 lei63.19 lei -
Harry Potter and the Goblet of FireJ. K. Rowling-23%Preț: 55.28 lei72.13 lei -
Crime and PunishmentFyodor DostoevskyPreț: 30.53 lei -
Romeo and JulietWilliam ShakespearePreț: 27.74 lei -
Midsummer Night's DreamWilliam ShakespearePreț: 27.91 lei -
Fairy TalesHans Christian AndersenPreț: 29.69 lei -
PinocchioCarlo CollodiPreț: 27.57 lei -
The IdiotFyodor DostoevskyPreț: 30.80 lei -
Anna KareninaLeo TolstoyPreț: 32.50 lei
Recenzii de la cititorii Books Express
Alina-Andreea Badea a dat nota:
O iubire la nivel spiritual. Personajele au un anumit egoism, doresc ce e mai bine pentru ele, si isi calca pe sentimente, atat ale lor cat si a celor din jur. De asemenea, este un roman in care se prezinta, mai mult sau mai putin, schimbarea adusa de anumite traume ale copilariei, de ex. personajul Hitcliff. Stilul gothic a facut cartea si mai atractiva de citit, dar acest aspect tine mult de gusturi.
Maria Nastasia a dat nota:
Structurally this book is a brilliant enigma. It feels like a series of unconscious decisions on Emily's part which for a novel that spends a lot of time dramatizing the darker realms of the human psyche is another masterstroke. Our narrator is almost immediately shoved aside by a first-hand witness of all events, Nelly, the housekeeper. Bronte uses this technique of doubling up throughout the novel - eventually Catherine and Heathcliff's children will replace Catherine and Heathcliff. Virtually every character in this novel has a twin. At times it's confusing trying to recall who is whose offspring or relative but this only adds to the novel's atmosphere of some kind of elemental drama unfolding in which individuals are no less cyclical, no less driven by primitive energies than the surrounding moors. Wuthering Heights is an adventure into the heart of darkness, anticipating Conrad by more than fifty years. It's also a novel that feels spookily intimate with death.
Notă biografică
Emily Brontë was born on 30 July 1818. Her father was curate of Haworth, Yorkshire, and her mother died when she was five years old, leaving five daughters and one son. In 1824 Charlotte, Maria, Elizabeth and Emily were sent to Cowan Bridge, a school for clergymen's daughters, where Maria and Elizabeth both caught tuberculosis and died. The children were taught at home from this point on and together they created vivid fantasy worlds which they explored by writing stories. Emily worked briefly as a teacher in 1938 but soon returned home. In 1846, Emily¿s poems were published alongside those of her sisters, Charlotte and Anne, in Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell. The following year Wuthering Heights was published. Emily Brontë died of consumption on 19 December 1848.
Descriere
Cathy is a beautiful and wilful young woman torn between her soft-hearted husband and Heathcliff, the passionate and resentful man who has loved her since childhood. The power of their bond creates a maelstrom of cruelty and violence which will leave one of them dead and cast a shadow over the lives of their children.
Extras
CHAPTER 1
1801--I have just returned from a visit to my landlord--the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's Heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name.
'Mr. Heathcliff?' I said.
A nod was the answer.
'Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts--'
'Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,' he interrupted, wincing. 'I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it--walk in!'
The 'walk in' was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the sentiment, 'Go to the Deuce': even the gate over which he leant manifested no sympathizing movement to the words; and I think that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself.
When he saw my horse's breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did pull out his hand to unchain it, and then suddenly preceded me up the causeway, calling, as we entered the court,--
'Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood's horse; and bring up some wine.'
'Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose,' was the reflection, suggested by this compound order. 'No wonder the grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge-cutters.'
Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old, perhaps, though hale and sinewy.
'The Lord help us!' he soliloquised in an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent.
Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff's dwelling. 'Wuthering' being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones.
Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date '1500,' and the name 'Hareton Earnshaw.' I would have made a few comments, and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting the penetralium.
One step brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here 'the house' pre-eminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fire-place; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been underdrawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villanous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three gaudily painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade. In an arch under the dresser, reposed a huge, liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses.
The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn countenance, and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in knee-breeches and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his armchair, his mug of ale frothing on the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of five or six miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after dinner. But Mr. Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He is a dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose. Possibly, some people might suspect him of a degree of underbred pride; I have a sympathetic chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort: I know by instinct, his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of feeling--to manifestations of mutual kindliness. He'll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved or hated again. No. I'm running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes over liberally on him. Mr. Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar reasons for keeping his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be acquaintance, to those which actuate me. Let me hope my constitution is almost peculiar: my dear mother used to say I should never have a comfortable home; and only last summer I proved myself perfectly unworthy of one.
While enjoying a month of fine weather at the seacoast, I was thrown into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real goddess in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I 'never told my love' vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed I was over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return--the sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it with shame--shrunk icily into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake, persuaded her mamma to decamp.
By this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate.
I took a seat at the end of the hearthstone opposite that towards which my landlord advanced, and filled up an interval of silence by attempting to caress the canine mother, who had left her nursery, and was sneaking wolfishly to the back of my legs, her lip curled up, and her white teeth watering for a snatch.
My caress provoked a long, guttural gnarl.
'You'd better let the dog alone,' growled Mr. Heathcliff in unison, checking fiercer demonstrations with a punch of his foot. 'She's not accustomed to be spoiled--not kept for a pet.'
Then, striding to a side door, he shouted again--'Joseph!'--
Joseph mumbled indistinctly in the depths of the cellar, but gave no intimation of ascending; so his master dived down to him, leaving me vis-a-vis the ruffianly bitch and a pair of grim shaggy sheep-dogs, who shared with her a jealous guardianship over all my movements.
Not anxious to come in contact with their fangs, I sat still; but, imagining they would scarcely understand tacit insults, I unfortunately indulged in winking and making faces at the trio, and some turn of my physiognomy so irritated madam, that she suddenly broke into a fury, and leapt on my knees. I flung her back, and hastened to interpose the table between us. This proceeding roused the whole hive. Half-a-dozen four-footed fiends, of various sizes and ages, issued from hidden dens to the common centre. I felt my heels and coat-laps peculiar subjects of assault; and, parrying off the larger combatants as effectually as I could with the poker, I was constrained to demand, aloud, assistance from some of the household in re-establishing peace.
Mr. Heathcliff and his man climbed the cellar steps with vexatious phlegm: I don't think they moved one second faster than usual, though the hearth was an absolute tempest of worrying and yelping.
Happily, an inhabitant of the kitchen made more dispatch: a lusty dame, with tucked-up gown, bare arms, and fire-flushed cheeks, rushed into the midst of us flourishing a frying-pan: and used that weapon, and her tongue, to such purpose, that the storm subsided magically, and she only remained, heaving like a sea after a high wind, when her master entered on the scene.
'What the devil is the matter?' he asked, eyeing me in a manner I could ill endure after this inhospitable treatment.
'What the devil, indeed!' I muttered. 'The herd of possessed swine could have had no worse spirits in them than those animals of yours, sir. You might as well leave a stranger with a brood of tigers!'
'They won't meddle with persons who touch nothing,' he remarked, putting the bottle before me, and restoring the displaced table. 'The dogs do right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine?'
'No, thank you.'
'Not bitten, are you?'
'If I had been, I would have set my signet on the biter.'
Heathcliff's countenance relaxed into a grin.
'Come, come,' he said, 'you are flurried, Mr. Lockwood. Here, take a little wine. Guests are so exceedingly rare in this house that I and my dogs, I am willing to own, hardly know how to receive them. Your health, sir!'
I bowed and returned the pledge; beginning to perceive that it would be foolish to sit sulking for the misbehaviour of a pack of curs: besides, I felt loath to yield the fellow further amusement at my expense; since his humour took that turn.
He--probably swayed by prudential considerations of the folly of offending a good tenant--relaxed a little in the laconic style of chipping off1 his pronouns and auxiliary verbs, and introduced what he supposed would be a subject of interest to me,--a discourse on the advantages and disadvantages of my present place of retirement.
I found him very intelligent on the topics we touched; and before I went home, I was encouraged so far as to volunteer another visit to-morrow.
He evidently wished no repetition of my intrusion. I shall go, notwithstanding. It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
CHAPTER 2
Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend it by my study fire, instead of wading through heath and mud to Wuthering Heights.
On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B.--I dine between twelve and one o'clock; the housekeeper, a matronly lady, taken as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend my request that I might be served at five.) On mounting the stairs with this lazy intention, and stepping into the room, I saw a servant-girl on her knees, surrounded by brushes, and coal-scuttles; and raising an infernal dust as she extinguished the flames with heaps of cinders. This spectacle drove me back immediately; I took my hat, and, after a four miles' walk, arrived at Heathcliff's garden gate just in time to escape the first feathery flakes of a snow-shower.
On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. Being unable to remove the chain, I jumped over, and, running up the flagged cause-way bordered with straggling gooseberry bushes, knocked vainly for admittance, till my knuckles tingled, and the dogs howled.
'Wretched inmates!' I ejaculated, mentally, 'you deserve perpetual isolation from your species for your churlish inhospitality. At least, I would not keep my doors barred in the day-time. I don't care--I will get in!'
So resolved, I grasped the latch and shook it vehemently. Vinegar-faced Joseph projected his head from a round window of the barn.
'Whet are ye for?' he shouted. 'T' maister's dahn i' t' fowld. Goa rahnd by th' end ut' laith, if yah went tuh spake tull him.'2
'Is there nobody inside to open the door?' I hallooed, responsively.
'They's nobbut t' missis; and shoo'll nut oppen 't an ye mak yer flaysome dins till neeght.'3
'Why? cannot you tell her who I am, eh, Joseph?'
'Nor-ne me! Aw'll hae noa hend wi't,' muttered the head, vanishing.4
The snow had began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cote, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful apartment, where I was formerly received.
It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the 'missis,' an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected.
I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me take a seat. She looked at me, leaning back in her chair, and remained motionless and mute.
'Rough weather!' I remarked. 'I'm afraid, Mrs. Heathcliff, the door5 must bear the consequence of your servants' leisure attendance: I had hard work to make them hear me!'
She never opened her mouth. I stared--she stared also. At any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable.
'Sit down,' said the young man, gruffly. 'He'll be in soon.'
I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance.
'A beautiful animal!' I commenced again. 'Do you intend parting with the little ones, madam?'
'They are not mine,' said the amiable hostess, more repellingly than Heathcliff himself could have replied.
From the Paperback edition.
1801--I have just returned from a visit to my landlord--the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's Heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name.
'Mr. Heathcliff?' I said.
A nod was the answer.
'Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts--'
'Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,' he interrupted, wincing. 'I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it--walk in!'
The 'walk in' was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the sentiment, 'Go to the Deuce': even the gate over which he leant manifested no sympathizing movement to the words; and I think that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself.
When he saw my horse's breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did pull out his hand to unchain it, and then suddenly preceded me up the causeway, calling, as we entered the court,--
'Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood's horse; and bring up some wine.'
'Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose,' was the reflection, suggested by this compound order. 'No wonder the grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge-cutters.'
Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old, perhaps, though hale and sinewy.
'The Lord help us!' he soliloquised in an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent.
Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff's dwelling. 'Wuthering' being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones.
Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date '1500,' and the name 'Hareton Earnshaw.' I would have made a few comments, and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting the penetralium.
One step brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here 'the house' pre-eminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fire-place; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been underdrawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villanous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three gaudily painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade. In an arch under the dresser, reposed a huge, liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses.
The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn countenance, and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in knee-breeches and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his armchair, his mug of ale frothing on the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of five or six miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after dinner. But Mr. Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He is a dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose. Possibly, some people might suspect him of a degree of underbred pride; I have a sympathetic chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort: I know by instinct, his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of feeling--to manifestations of mutual kindliness. He'll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved or hated again. No. I'm running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes over liberally on him. Mr. Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar reasons for keeping his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be acquaintance, to those which actuate me. Let me hope my constitution is almost peculiar: my dear mother used to say I should never have a comfortable home; and only last summer I proved myself perfectly unworthy of one.
While enjoying a month of fine weather at the seacoast, I was thrown into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real goddess in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I 'never told my love' vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed I was over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return--the sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it with shame--shrunk icily into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake, persuaded her mamma to decamp.
By this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate.
I took a seat at the end of the hearthstone opposite that towards which my landlord advanced, and filled up an interval of silence by attempting to caress the canine mother, who had left her nursery, and was sneaking wolfishly to the back of my legs, her lip curled up, and her white teeth watering for a snatch.
My caress provoked a long, guttural gnarl.
'You'd better let the dog alone,' growled Mr. Heathcliff in unison, checking fiercer demonstrations with a punch of his foot. 'She's not accustomed to be spoiled--not kept for a pet.'
Then, striding to a side door, he shouted again--'Joseph!'--
Joseph mumbled indistinctly in the depths of the cellar, but gave no intimation of ascending; so his master dived down to him, leaving me vis-a-vis the ruffianly bitch and a pair of grim shaggy sheep-dogs, who shared with her a jealous guardianship over all my movements.
Not anxious to come in contact with their fangs, I sat still; but, imagining they would scarcely understand tacit insults, I unfortunately indulged in winking and making faces at the trio, and some turn of my physiognomy so irritated madam, that she suddenly broke into a fury, and leapt on my knees. I flung her back, and hastened to interpose the table between us. This proceeding roused the whole hive. Half-a-dozen four-footed fiends, of various sizes and ages, issued from hidden dens to the common centre. I felt my heels and coat-laps peculiar subjects of assault; and, parrying off the larger combatants as effectually as I could with the poker, I was constrained to demand, aloud, assistance from some of the household in re-establishing peace.
Mr. Heathcliff and his man climbed the cellar steps with vexatious phlegm: I don't think they moved one second faster than usual, though the hearth was an absolute tempest of worrying and yelping.
Happily, an inhabitant of the kitchen made more dispatch: a lusty dame, with tucked-up gown, bare arms, and fire-flushed cheeks, rushed into the midst of us flourishing a frying-pan: and used that weapon, and her tongue, to such purpose, that the storm subsided magically, and she only remained, heaving like a sea after a high wind, when her master entered on the scene.
'What the devil is the matter?' he asked, eyeing me in a manner I could ill endure after this inhospitable treatment.
'What the devil, indeed!' I muttered. 'The herd of possessed swine could have had no worse spirits in them than those animals of yours, sir. You might as well leave a stranger with a brood of tigers!'
'They won't meddle with persons who touch nothing,' he remarked, putting the bottle before me, and restoring the displaced table. 'The dogs do right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine?'
'No, thank you.'
'Not bitten, are you?'
'If I had been, I would have set my signet on the biter.'
Heathcliff's countenance relaxed into a grin.
'Come, come,' he said, 'you are flurried, Mr. Lockwood. Here, take a little wine. Guests are so exceedingly rare in this house that I and my dogs, I am willing to own, hardly know how to receive them. Your health, sir!'
I bowed and returned the pledge; beginning to perceive that it would be foolish to sit sulking for the misbehaviour of a pack of curs: besides, I felt loath to yield the fellow further amusement at my expense; since his humour took that turn.
He--probably swayed by prudential considerations of the folly of offending a good tenant--relaxed a little in the laconic style of chipping off1 his pronouns and auxiliary verbs, and introduced what he supposed would be a subject of interest to me,--a discourse on the advantages and disadvantages of my present place of retirement.
I found him very intelligent on the topics we touched; and before I went home, I was encouraged so far as to volunteer another visit to-morrow.
He evidently wished no repetition of my intrusion. I shall go, notwithstanding. It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared with him.
CHAPTER 2
Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend it by my study fire, instead of wading through heath and mud to Wuthering Heights.
On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B.--I dine between twelve and one o'clock; the housekeeper, a matronly lady, taken as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend my request that I might be served at five.) On mounting the stairs with this lazy intention, and stepping into the room, I saw a servant-girl on her knees, surrounded by brushes, and coal-scuttles; and raising an infernal dust as she extinguished the flames with heaps of cinders. This spectacle drove me back immediately; I took my hat, and, after a four miles' walk, arrived at Heathcliff's garden gate just in time to escape the first feathery flakes of a snow-shower.
On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. Being unable to remove the chain, I jumped over, and, running up the flagged cause-way bordered with straggling gooseberry bushes, knocked vainly for admittance, till my knuckles tingled, and the dogs howled.
'Wretched inmates!' I ejaculated, mentally, 'you deserve perpetual isolation from your species for your churlish inhospitality. At least, I would not keep my doors barred in the day-time. I don't care--I will get in!'
So resolved, I grasped the latch and shook it vehemently. Vinegar-faced Joseph projected his head from a round window of the barn.
'Whet are ye for?' he shouted. 'T' maister's dahn i' t' fowld. Goa rahnd by th' end ut' laith, if yah went tuh spake tull him.'2
'Is there nobody inside to open the door?' I hallooed, responsively.
'They's nobbut t' missis; and shoo'll nut oppen 't an ye mak yer flaysome dins till neeght.'3
'Why? cannot you tell her who I am, eh, Joseph?'
'Nor-ne me! Aw'll hae noa hend wi't,' muttered the head, vanishing.4
The snow had began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cote, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful apartment, where I was formerly received.
It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the 'missis,' an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected.
I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me take a seat. She looked at me, leaning back in her chair, and remained motionless and mute.
'Rough weather!' I remarked. 'I'm afraid, Mrs. Heathcliff, the door5 must bear the consequence of your servants' leisure attendance: I had hard work to make them hear me!'
She never opened her mouth. I stared--she stared also. At any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable.
'Sit down,' said the young man, gruffly. 'He'll be in soon.'
I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance.
'A beautiful animal!' I commenced again. 'Do you intend parting with the little ones, madam?'
'They are not mine,' said the amiable hostess, more repellingly than Heathcliff himself could have replied.
From the Paperback edition.
Recenzii
"A dark and passionate tale of tortured but enduring love... Mesmerising" Guardian "This brilliantly atmospheric Yorkshire saga has only one drawback - Emily never wrote another novel. For me, it is both fantastic but also true to life because the protagonists have such believably fierce emotions" -- Kate Mosse "When I was 16 I read Wuthering Heights for the first time, and I read it as a kind of oracle; that life is worth nothing if it is not worth everything. Disaster does not matter, intensity does. You can dilute Wuthering Heights, as Mills & Boon and musicals have done. But if you are honest, you cannot escape its central stark premise; all or nothing. The all is not Heathcliff - that is the sentimental version. The all is what Heathcliff represents, which is life itself" -- Jeanette Winterson "It is as if Emily Bronte could tear up all that we know human beings by, and fill these unrecognizable transparencies with such a gust of life that they transcend reality" -- Virginia Woolf "Only Emily Bronte exposes her imagination to the dark spirit" -- V. S. Pritchett
Textul de pe ultima copertă
Emily Bronte
Wuthering Heights
A Longman Cultural Edition
Editor: Alison Booth
Series Editor: Susan J. Wolfson
Affordably priced, Longman Cultural Editions present classic works in provocative and illuminating contexts-cultural, critical, and literary. Each Longman Cultural Edition consists of the complete text of a key literary work, supplemented by helpful annotations and followed by contextual materials that reveal the conversations and controversies of its historical moment.
One Longman Cultural Edition is available at no additional cost when packaged with The Longman Anthology of British Literature, Third Edition, and Masters of British Literature, Volumes A and B. Contact your local sales representative for packaging information. You may locate your sales representative at www.ablongman.com/replocator.
For a complete listing of Longman Cultural Editions, please look inside the front cover.
Visit us on the Web at www.ablongman.com
Caracteristici
- The text is enriched by poems, diaries, and memoirs, from Brontë to Virginia Woolf.
- This illustrated edition is unique in locating Wuthering Heights in its region as well as period, while it follows every phase of the Brontë renown, from tourism to adaptations, from early reviews to recent critical trends.
- Alison’s Booth’s extraordinary edition will fascinate students of the Brontës, the novel, female literature, the gothic, and the fraught conflicts of Victorian literary imagination.
Cuprins
List of Illustrations
Top Withins
High Sunderland
"Gun Portrait" from Marion Harland
Portrait
Several illustrations from Bronte Society Transactions:
Main Street, Haworth
Haworth Old Church
The Birthplace of the Bronte Sisters, Thornton
The Black Bull
Branwell Bronte's Chair
The Waterfall on the Moor
Haworth Parsonage
Emily Bronte, drawing of Keeper
Haworth Parsonage
Facscimile Title Page of First Edition
About This Edition
Introduction
Chronologies
Text of Wuthering Heights
Notes
Contexts
Biographical
Emily and Anne Bronte, "Diary Note"
Charlotte Bronte, "Biographical Notice of Ellis and Acton Bell"
"Editor's Preface"
Ellen Nussey on Emily
Elizabeth Gaskell, The Life Of Charlotte Bronte on Emily
Emily Bronte, Poems
Historical, Social, and Legal
Inheritance, Law, and Women
From Barbara Leigh Smith Bodichon, A Brief Summary, in Plain Language, of the Most Important
LawConcerning Women (London: Chapman, 1854)
Class, Urban Culture, and Mobility
Urban Slums and Street Children
Self-Help
Houses, Home Decor, and Consumer Goods
From Charles Eastlake, Hints on Household Taste
From John Ruskin, The Stones of Venice
Regional and International
Ireland
Family History
William Wright, The Brontes In Ireland
The Great Hunger
Yorkshire
Dialect
From Richard Blakesborough, Wit, Character, Folklore & Customs of the Nortern Riding of Yorkshire, 1898
Religion
Literacy: Summary and Quotation from J. Paul Hunter, Before Novels
Haworth and Vicinity
Original Locations
Memoirs and Pilgrimages
C. Holmes Cautley, "Old Haworth Folk Who Knew the Brontes," 1910
Virginia Woolf, from "Haworth, November 1904"
Sylvia Plath
Muriel Spark
The Bronte Society and Parsonage Museum
From Claude Meeker, "Haworth: Home of the Brontes," 1895
Critical and Artful
Reviews
Early Criticism
Sequels, Adaptations, Films
Further Reading
Web materials
Top Withins
High Sunderland
"Gun Portrait" from Marion Harland
Portrait
Several illustrations from Bronte Society Transactions:
Main Street, Haworth
Haworth Old Church
The Birthplace of the Bronte Sisters, Thornton
The Black Bull
Branwell Bronte's Chair
The Waterfall on the Moor
Haworth Parsonage
Emily Bronte, drawing of Keeper
Haworth Parsonage
Facscimile Title Page of First Edition
About This Edition
Introduction
Chronologies
Text of Wuthering Heights
Notes
Contexts
Biographical
Emily and Anne Bronte, "Diary Note"
Charlotte Bronte, "Biographical Notice of Ellis and Acton Bell"
"Editor's Preface"
Ellen Nussey on Emily
Elizabeth Gaskell, The Life Of Charlotte Bronte on Emily
Emily Bronte, Poems
Historical, Social, and Legal
Inheritance, Law, and Women
From Barbara Leigh Smith Bodichon, A Brief Summary, in Plain Language, of the Most Important
LawConcerning Women (London: Chapman, 1854)
Class, Urban Culture, and Mobility
Urban Slums and Street Children
Self-Help
Houses, Home Decor, and Consumer Goods
From Charles Eastlake, Hints on Household Taste
From John Ruskin, The Stones of Venice
Regional and International
Ireland
Family History
William Wright, The Brontes In Ireland
The Great Hunger
Yorkshire
Dialect
From Richard Blakesborough, Wit, Character, Folklore & Customs of the Nortern Riding of Yorkshire, 1898
Religion
Literacy: Summary and Quotation from J. Paul Hunter, Before Novels
Haworth and Vicinity
Original Locations
Memoirs and Pilgrimages
C. Holmes Cautley, "Old Haworth Folk Who Knew the Brontes," 1910
Virginia Woolf, from "Haworth, November 1904"
Sylvia Plath
Muriel Spark
The Bronte Society and Parsonage Museum
From Claude Meeker, "Haworth: Home of the Brontes," 1895
Critical and Artful
Reviews
Early Criticism
Sequels, Adaptations, Films
Further Reading
Web materials