Imagine that you are listening to a group of students around a
seminar table discussing Emily Brontë’s novel Wuthering Heights.
The conversation might go something like this:
Student A: I can’t see what’s so great about Catherine’s relationship
with Heathcliff. They’re just a couple of squabbling brats.
Student B: Well, it’s not really a relationship at all, is it? It’s more
like a mystical unity of selves. You can’t talk about it in everyday
language.
Student C: Why not? Heathcliff ’s not a mystic, he’s a brute. The
guy’s not some kind of Byronic hero; he’s vicious.
Student B: OK, so who made him like that? The people at the
Heights, of course. He was fine when he was a child. They think
he’s not good enough to marry Catherine so he turns into a
monster. At least he’s not a wimp like Edgar Linton.
Student A: Sure, Linton’s a bit spineless, but he treats Catherine a
lot better than Heathcliff does.What is wrong with this discussion? Some of the points made are
fairly perceptive. Everybody seems to have read their way beyond