There is something about this book that draws you in even though most of the characters are self-centered and malicious and you tend not to like them. The current of love, lust, and possession runs throughout the story which is told to the new renter of "The Grange" by the housekeeper of Wuthering Heights. As she sits and knits she spins the tale of the tempestuous love story of Cathy and Heathcliff, slowly but surely you are pulled in to all the machinations that the Lintons and Earnshaws and the orphan Heathcliff engage in across the cold, damp, windswept moors of the Yorkshire estate. Your mind becomes filled with Heathcliff, always Heathcliff, watching planning and deeply in love with Cathy. The story follows their lives through two generations.
As a reader, I have to wonder what state of mind Emily Bronte was in when she wrote the turbulent tale. Published in 1847 the story was considered lurid and shocking, but a masterpiece. It is Bronte's only novel and is as relevant today as it was back then. Emily Bronte had been ill for some time and died in December of 1848.