In my childhood and teenage years I was an avid reader. I would put my thirty five year old self to shame. On the 10th of May 1994, I wrote a review of the book Wuthering Heights. I remember very little of it now, but the book make enough of an impression on me back then to write a review, and it must have amused my mother enough to fold it and place it inside the cover of the book which now sits gathering dust in my hallway book shelf.
I pull no punches, calling Hindley Earnshaw ‘selfish, cruel, and rude’, and Linton Heathcliff a ‘whimp’, saying, ‘although some people may feel sorry for him, I did not in the slightest’. I also could not understand why the author made everyone ‘so miserable all the time, or just about dying all the time, or actually dying’.
Reading over it has made me want to read the book again so it is being added to the ever growing ‘to read list’.
I have included photos of my original review, complete with mistakes, below. Have a read and see if you agree with any of the statements made by my fourteen year old self.