A Valentine Tribute to Heathcliff, er, Wuthering Heights

In general I'm not a huge fan of love stories, at least not in terms of fiction.   There are a lot of books in this world and there are other genres I find more worthy of my time.  But when I was introduced to Wuthering Heights, it was one of the first classic love stories to really sink its teeth into me.  I say "sink its teeth" intentionally, because I believe the supernatural elements of it are a great part of its allure.  I'm more of a Halloween girl than a Valentine girl. Now don't get me wrong - I don't enjoy just any old novel with vampires, werewolves, ghosts or other beasties.  It's got to be an engaging, thought-provoking story with characters that are fascinating, complex, and in whom I can see reflections of myself. Wuthering Heights takes that to, er, new heights. 

I've never been too keen on Catherine/Cathy though.  Heathcliff could definitely do better.  Heathcliff...sigh...I suspect that many Wuthering Heights fans are more attracted to the story than to Heathcliff himself as a love interest.  After all, he's an unlikely hero (if he can even be called that).  But on a personal note, I have to admit that I'm head over heels for him.  He's the quintessential bad boy, and whereas that hasn't worked for me in other romances, it definitely hits the mark in Wuthering Heights. 

So on this Valentine's Day, I pay tribute to the rather angry and despondent Heathcliff, and humbly suggest that when I reach the afterlife we should have a couple of beers and get to know each other. Catherine, I'm sorry but you're just not the right ghost for him.