Zillah leads Lockwood to the room in which he will spend the night until the blizzard passes. It's not a room that Heathcliff would be willing to have guests stay in. Oh, the allure of snooping around...
The room used to be Catherine's. Although
which Catherine is unclear, as Lockwood notes upon seeing the window-ledge bookcase with the names "Catherine Earnshaw," "Catherine Heathcliff," or "Catherine Linton" scratched randomly onto the painted wood.
I'm guessing that all these different Catherines are actually pertaining to one person.
She may have been born "Catherine Earnshaw," daydreamed that she would marry Heathcliff and therefore become "Catherine Heathcliff." BUT things most likely didn't turn out so well. Instead, she married someone else and became "Catherine Linton."
Of course, I could be wrong. This is all just a hunch. A theory.
I doubt that Lockwood would have arrived to the same conclusion. He seems so clueless. I guess he's supposed to represent us, the readers, in much the same way that Horatio in Hamlet is supposed to represent us -- as transplants into the story. We're outsiders to the lives of the other characters, and we're only just learning about them.
He seems oblivious to the doodle-dreaming tendencies of a young woman fancying herself in love with someone and courting the idea of marriage. That Catherine was just trying out different names for herself to see which sounds better. I used to do this all the time -- up to now I still do, especially if I find a guy completely irresistable (e.g. "Julianne Gallinari," "Julianne Cavill," "Julianne Somerhalder," "Julianne Lautner," and... you get the picture).
Okay, turns out I was right after all! (At the time I was writing this, it was in real time, by the way.) Lockwood kept seeing all these different names and felt a little overwhelmed:
"In vapid listlessness I leant my head against the window, and continued spelling over Catherine -- Earnshaw -- Heathcliff -- Linton, till my eyes closed..."
It's not until Lockwood picks up some of the books on the window-sill shelf and flips through them that he realizes the girl -- Catherine Earnshaw -- was the one who wrote these diaries.
We get a snippet of this mysterious Catherine's childhood through the narration provided by Lockwood. It's pretty weird to stumble upon someone else's diaries and read all their deepest secrets to yourself. Then again, we have TMZ and Perez Hilton and a whole host of gossip magazines for that nowadays. Not to mention the Internet. Facebook's stalker-friendly nowadays. You can dig up dirt on virtually anyone!
I wonder if Emily Bronte will continue using Lockwood's narration as a storytelling device, or Catherine's diaries as some sort of plot ploy to get us suckered into the rest of the story.
So far, the excerpt that Lockwood came across in Catherine's diary came out of her youth when she, Heathcliff, and some other boy were supposed to be reading their prayer books to make up for not attending church. "It had been flooded with rain," so it wasn't wise to venture outside and risk it.
OH WAIT. Sorry. I think I misread that.
Joseph (the mean old servant, if you recall) had set up a makeshift church service "in the garret." Otherwise known as an attic -- especially a small, cramped one. Cathy, Heathcliff, and the ploughboy were supposed to sit on a sack of corn and pay attention to the sermon. They shivered from the cold, and exaggerated their shivering so that Joseph would quickly STFU. But it was useless because they ended up sitting through 3 hours of the sermon. Sucks for them.
Especially for Cathy. Her brother, Hindley, was a totall hypocritical douche bag. Here's why:
"...Hindley and his wife basked downstairs before a comfortable fire -- doing anything but reading their Bibles...'You forget you have a master down here,' says the tyrant. 'I'll demolish the first who puts me out of temper!' "
And then Hindley proceeds to verbally abuse Heathcliff and has his new wife (Hindley was a lot older than Cathy) pull the poor gypsy boy's hair.
I've got 2 words for Hindley and his wife: churlish and childish.
Hindley's totally jealous of Heathcliff. I'm guessing it's because Heathcliff got more attention from Hindley's dad, and Hindley felt robbed. Sore loser.
Cathy then wrote:
"Frances [Hindley's wife] pulled [Heathcliff's] hair heartily, and then went and seated herself on her husband's knee; and there they were, like two babies, kissing and talking nonsense by the hour -- foolish palaver that we should be ashamed of."
If you're wondering what Cathy meant by the word "palaver," it's defined as profuse and idle talk. Hindley and Frances were probably exchanging sickeningly saccharrine "OMG, ILY" with each other while feeling each other up. Cathy, I totally get where you're coming from. Hindley and Frances remind me
way too much of those shameless couples on the Subway who can't keep their hands off each other. They're often oblivious to the fact that their PDA on overdrive grosses other people out. Some couples just don't know how to get a room. Or a freaking clue, for that matter.
Joseph's cruel. If he were living in today's society, he would definitely get arrested and locked up for child abuse. All Cathy did was try to keep herself and the boys warm, and what does Joseph do? Tear away their pinafores and bash Cathy's ears with his fists, claiming that they were being awful children. The cruel moron.
You gotta love Cathy for rebelling, though. She hurled her book into the dog kennel first, then Heathcliff followed. They got punished for it, but I think Cathy is a bit more resilient in receiving the punishment, believing herself to be in the right. All I have to say is, YOU GO GIRL!
Also, you can already tell Cathy's in love with Heathcliff -- "Poor Heathcliff!" -- and that their relationship will be defined by the rules of rank in Victorian society. Forbidden to associate with each other, even as young adolescents. That's pretty damn harsh. I would love to throw rocks at Hindley, if only to knock him off his high horse. Hindley needs to get over himself.
So, back to Lockwood...
He dozes off and gets a bad dream. It sort of mirrors the 3 hour service Cathy and Heathcliff had to go through -- Lockwood (in his dream, I suppose) had to sit through an entire tirade by a preacher named Jabes Branderham (what an awful name!).
"Seventy Times Seven, and the First of the Seventy-first. A Pious Discourse Delivered by the Reverend Jabes Branderham."
FML if I had to sit through an entire
four hundred and ninety parts of a sermon. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe Branderham's so-called pious discourse is in reference to Jesus's response that we should forgive our transgressors seventy times seven times. And 7 is such a huge symbolic number in various religious traditions. In Christ's case, he meant we should ALWAYS forgive our enemies, no matter how horribly they've wronged us. However, if this is a novel about romance and revenge, then I highly doubt any of the characters would really heed Jesus's advice. Maybe that's what they get for not paying attention to the homilies every Sunday, ahahaha.
Anyway, Lockwood was sick of listening to it, so he let Branderham know. People ambushed Lockwood for it, including mean old Joseph. I would imagine that Lockwood gets the crap beat of him, but I'm not really sure because Emily doesn't give us that much details to go on.
She just jumps ahead to the
disturbing part:
For some weird reason, Lockwood was inside of an oak closet (did he pass out in there? LOL!). He kept hearing odd sounds, which he ascribed to the belligerent windy weather surrounding the moors of Wuthering Heights. I think Lockwood may have heard banging noises that bugged him, so he went to see what it was, expecting that it was just a branch knocking on the window glass. But it wasn't.
Lockwood thought he had grabbed a branch, but realized to his horror that it was the
"fingers of a little, ice-cold hand!" It freaked him out even more when the mysterious hand clasped onto his hand even tighter. And then
"a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in -- let me in!"
SHIT. Talk about freaky!!!!!
But here's the kicker:
Lockwood asked the thing who it was, and the reply came back as
"Catherine Linton... I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!"
And then he saw a face.
WTF. I was confused as to whether this actually happened or it was all just in his head, because after the "Cathy" entity introduced itself, Lockwood was mentally talking to himself, as noted between the enclosed parentheses:
"Why did I think of Linton? I had read Earnshaw twenty times for Linton."
Was this the same Cathy? The same Cathy who wrote all those diaries? It would be funny if the reason she came back was to freak Lockwood out for reading her private thoughts.
Anyway, Lockwood became so desperate to free himself that he rubbed the Cathy entity's wrist back and forth across the window's broken glass -- to injure it so it would finally let go of him. The Cathy entity, meanwhile, kept begging to be let inside, wailing and wailing. As another attempt to have it let go of him, Lockwood said that he would let her in if she let him go. She did. But then Lockwood shoved a pile of books against the broken glass to keep the Cathy entity from terrorizing him further.
The Cathy entity claimed it was lost for 20 years. TWENTY FREAKING YEARS. And then it tried to push the books out of the way. Lockwood, obviously scared shitless, yelled. I honestly would have, too.
Then Heathcliff came rushing in, all hot and bothered, pissed off at Lockwood because (1) Lockwood wasn't supposed to be in this room, and (2) Lockwood's yell had probably woken Heathcliff up from an already disgruntled state of slumber.
Lockwood told him everything that happened -- excluding one little detail. The fact that Lockwood had... oh, I dunno, just snooped through the private diary pages of Heathcliff's dead girlfriend.
Heathcliff, meanwhile, struggled to keep his emotions in check. Most likely he and Cathy didn't end their relationship so well. Either that, or she was dead and Heathcliff was trying his best not to go berserk over a ghost. Just as Lockwood was leaving the room, Heathcliff lost all sense of control and flung himself onto the sheets, begging that Cathy come back to him.
That was really heartbreaking, that Heathcliff still mourns for her -- although whether Cathy Earnshaw Linton was, in fact, dead at this point, is unclear. Heathcliff at his most vulnerable = sad.
Even Lockwood was moved, and he felt ashamed to have witnessed this unraveling of emotions that he gave poor Heathcliff the space he needed.
Later, we can sense the tension between Heathcliff and the younger Catherine, his daughter-in-law. Perhaps she was the daughter of Catherine Earnshaw Linton?
I came across this fuzzy-looking cat when I was searching for images of
Wuthering Heights, and it just made me laugh. Someone called it
"the Poor Man's Garfield." Maybe it's named after the hero of Emily Bronte's novel? Hmm... But anyway, he sure does look happy!
Just thought it would bring a smile to your face. Prepare yourself for more depressing details in the upcoming chapters. I'll do my best to include a light-hearted flare in my next recaps.
TO CHAPTER 4... AND AWAY!