Wuthering Heights

by Emily Brontë Narrated by Fitra Hartono

Overview

Notes From Your Bookseller

The one and only from Emily Brontë, and it is a gut punch. A tragic story of class divides and revenge, Wuthering Heights is a classic tale of the power of love, and the devastation of love lost.

Wuthering Heights mengisahkan tentang cinta yang tak sampai antara Heathcliff dan Catherine Earnshaw. Ketika Catherine yang sangat dicintainya memutuskan untuk menikah dengan Edgar Linton yang merupakan saingan Heathcliff sejak kecil, Heathcliff pun melarikan diri dan kelak kembali sebagai pria kaya dan berpendidikan, lalu dia mulai menyusun rencana pembalasan dendam kepada keluarga Earnshaw dan Linton yang diyakininya telah menghancurkan hidupnya.

Editorial Reviews

Sunday Times (London)

Patricia Routledge's reading, with her subtle modulation and vocal range, irons out a possibly confusing plot, conveying the novel's dominating passion and power.

School Library Journal

Gr 8 Up-British actor Martin Shaw reads this shortened version of the classic Emily Bronte novel. His easily-understood accent is appropriate and helps to set the mood. Shaw reads at a very steady pace, pausing effectively for emphasis or when his character might be thinking. Usually calm and gentle, his voice can resonate with anger or other emotion when necessary. There is some differentiation in pitch to emphasize male vs. female speech, but it is not exaggerated or overdone. The abridgement retains Bronte's words linking speech or narration sometimes from one page to another. It provides students with an easier way to become familiar with the story and get a feel for her style. Teachers could use this presentation to introduce the novel or to entice students to read it on their own.-Claudia Moore, W.T. Woodson High School, Fairfax, VA Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.|

Internet Book Watch

This abridged presentation of a classic brings to life Bronte's gothic romance and provides a powerful reading by Martin Shaw, whose voice perfectly captures this dark story of the moors. Those reluctant to read the full classic will find this audio version compelling and hard to quit listening to.
—Internet Book Watch

From the Publisher

"It is as if Emily Brontë could tear up all that we know human beings by, and fill these unrecognizable transparencies with such a gust of life that they transcend reality."
—Virginia Woolf

Douglas Jerrold's Weekly Newspaper (January 1848)

“Wuthering Heights is a strange sort of book—baffling all regular criticism; yet it is impossible to begin and not finish it; and quite as impossiple to lay it aside afterwards and say nothing about it...We strongly recommend all our readers who love novelty to get this story, for we can promise them that they never have read anything like it before.”

G. W. Peck

If the rank of a work of fiction is to depend solely on its naked imaginative power, then this is one of the greatest novels in the language.”

AudioFile

Search no further. A masterful vocal talent has found a masterpiece of world literature to perform…Kitchen’s intoxicatingly rich voice is the perfect medium for Brontë’s romantic lyricism…His interpretation is so precise and intelligent that it’s hard not to feel pity for the possessed Heathcliff. Michael Kitchen has given a long-awaited voice to a timeless classic.”

500 Great Books by Women Erica Bauermeister

[A] classic tale of possessive and thwarted passion…There is something magnificent about the depth and intensity of their love…It is hard not to listen in awe when Catherine cries out, ‘I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind; not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”

Virginia Woolf

It is as if Emily Brontë could tear up all that we know human beings by, and fill these unrecognizable transparencies with such a gust of life that they transcend reality.”

JUNE 2011 - AudioFile

Carolyn Seymour conducts a graceful dance over the stormy moors in her performance of this dark, complex novel. Readers who kept a safe distance from the gruff Heathcliff in other versions of the book may fall for his tormented soul in this production. Seymour’s rendition of this iconic character makes Heathcliff a simultaneously loathsome and lovable figure. From Mr. Lockwood, who frets his way into Heathcliff’s life when he moves to nearby Thrushcross Grange, to Mrs. Dean’s gossipy twitters, to “vinegar-faced” Joseph’s derisive mutterings, Seymour’s narration shines when she takes on the less-than-warm cast who populate Wuthering Heights and its surrounding environs. Her snappy dialogue and blend of sharp humor and compassion for the characters make this audiobook a fine view of a classic. L.B.F. © AudioFile 2011, Portland, Maine

Product Details

BN ID:	2940191222967
Publisher:	Storyside
Publication date:	01/05/2022
Edition description:	Unabridged
Language:	Indonesian

Read an Excerpt

1801

I have just returned from a visit to my landlord--the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's heaven; and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name.

"Mr. Heathcliff?" I said.

A nod was the answer.

"Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts--"

"Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir," he interrupted, wincing. "I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it--walk in!"

The "walk in" was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the sentiment, "Go to the deuce": even the gate over which he leant manifested no sympathizing movement to the words; and I think that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself.

When he saw my horse's breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded me up the causeway, calling, as we entered thecourt--"Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood's horse; and bring up some wine."

"Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose," was the reflection suggested by this compound order. "No wonder the grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge-cutters."

Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old, perhaps, though hale and sinewy. "The Lord help us!" he soliloquised in an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent.

Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff's dwelling. "Wuthering" being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones.

Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date "1500," and the name "Hareton Earnshaw." I would have made a few comments, and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting the penetralium.

One step brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage. They call it here "the house" pre-eminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been underdrawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villainous old guns and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three gaudily painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade. In an arch under the dresser reposed a huge liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses.

The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn countenance and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in knee-breeches and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his armchair, his mug of ale frothing on the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of five or six miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after dinner. But Mr. Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He is a dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose. Possibly, some people might suspect him of a degree of underbred pride; I have a sympathetic chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort: I know, by instinct, his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of feeling--to manifestations of mutual kindliness. He'll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved or hated again. No, I'm running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes over liberally on him. Mr. Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar reasons for keeping his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be acquaintance, to those which actuate me. Let me hope my constitution is almost peculiar: my dear mother used to say I should never have a comfortable home; and only last summer I proved myself perfectly unworthy of one.

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