Like many members of this book club (I’ll wager), I have a notebook somewhere in which I copied lines from Wuthering Heights as a teen. The language of Wuthering Heights is so dense but so melodic, so complicated but rewarding, and it’s struck me, on this most recent rereading, that there is a certain degree of enchantment that takes place when one first makes one’s way through its seductive thicket. Entire generations who (like me) first read Wuthering Heights in high school may be holding on not only to lines and passages they slightly (or entirely) misremember, but also to an image of iconic love that is… more than a little messed up? How strange—or maybe not—that I’ve never heard passages of Wuthering Heights quoted during wedding vows. Isabella’s love for her hard-to-love son Linton happens mostly offscreen, but seems to have some genuine affection behind it, as well—it’s almost the only thing Linton speaks of favorably.