Presents a graphic novel adaptation of the classic story of two families who become intertwined through marriage, passion, and the dominating force of a man named Heathcliff.
Presents a graphic novel adaptation of the classic story of two families who become intertwined through marriage, passion, and the dominating force of a man named Heathcliff.
Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. HeathcliffÕs dwelling. ÔWutheringÕ 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 Ô1500,Õ and the name ÔHareton Earnshaw.Õ 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 stop brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here Ôthe houseÕ 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 under-drawn: 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.
In this graphic version, Jonathan Harker travels to Transylvania to meet the mysterious Count Dracula, uncovers a terrible secret, and barely escapes with his life--only to have the Count follow him back to England.
In the Remixed Classics series, authors from marginalized backgrounds reinterpret classic works through their own cultural lens to subvert the overwhelming cishet, white, and male canon. Two British Indian teens cut off from their heritage find solace in each other in this gothic Wuthering Heights YA remix that subverts the default whiteness of the original text. Sometimes, lost things find their way home... Yorkshire, North of England, 1786. As the abandoned son of a lascar—a sailor from India—Heathcliff has spent most of his young life maligned as an "outsider." Now he's been flung into an alien life in the Yorkshire moors, where he clings to his birth father's language even though it makes the children of the house call him an animal, and the maids claim he speaks gibberish. Catherine is the younger child of the estate's owner, a daughter with light skin and brown curls and a mother that nobody talks about. Her father is grooming her for a place in proper society, and that's all that matters. Catherine knows she must mold herself into someone pretty and good and marriageable, even though it might destroy her spirit. As they occasionally flee into the moors to escape judgment and share the half-remembered language of their unknown kin, Catherine and Heathcliff come to find solace in each other. Deep down in their souls, they can feel they are the same. But when Catherine's father dies and the household's treatment of Heathcliff only grows more cruel, their relationship becomes strained and threatens to unravel. For how can they ever be together, when loving each other—and indeed, loving themselves—is as good as throwing themselves into poverty and death? Praise for What Souls Are Made Of: "A gorgeously reclaimed Gothic. ... I’m a Tasha Suri fan for life." —Chloe Gong, New York Times-bestselling author of These Violent Delights "With its brooding characters, gorgeous setting, and a romance that sparkles with electricity, this retelling of Wuthering Heights breathes fresh air into an old classic." —Stacey Lee, New York Times-bestselling author of The Downstairs Girl and Luck of the Titanic The Remixed Classics Series A Clash of Steel: A Treasure Island Remix by C.B. Lee So Many Beginnings: A Little Women Remix by Bethany C. Morrow Travelers Along the Way: A Robin Hood Remix by Aminah Mae Safi What Souls Are Made Of: A Wuthering Heights Remix by Tasha Suri Self-Made Boys: A Great Gatsby Remix by Anna-Marie McLemore My Dear Henry: A Jekyll & Hyde Remix by Kalynn Bayron Teach the Torches to Burn: A Romeo & Juliet Remix by Caleb Roehrig Into the Bright Open: A Secret Garden Remix by Cherie Dimaline Most Ardently: A Pride & Prejudice Remix by Gabe Cole Novoa
Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Brontë—faced with an ailing father and an alcoholic brother—pursue independence through art in this graphic vision of the lives of three legendary writers. Despite their family's stormy fortunes, the Brontë sisters resolved to write. To thwart the nineteenth century's double standards, they took the names of men, becoming the Bell brothers. Their works incited controversy and speculation, while at home, the sisters contended with the rages of Branwell Brontë, their self-destructive sibling. Manuela Santoni presents a time before Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall were known as literary masterpieces, when winds shook the Brontë house and determination held it together.
Considered lurid and shocking by mid-19th-century standards, Wuthering Heights was initially thought to be such a publishing risk that its author, Emily Brontë, was asked to pay some of the publication costs. Wuthering Heights is a wild, passionate story of the intense and almost demonic love between Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, a foundling adopted by Catherine's father. After Mr Earnshaw's death, Heathcliff is bullied and humiliated by Catherine's brother Hindley and wrongly believing that his love for Catherine is not reciprocated, leaves Wuthering Heights, only to return years later as a wealthy and polished man. He proceeds to exact a terrible revenge for his former miseries. The action of the story is chaotic and unremittingly violent, but the accomplished handling of a complex structure, the evocative descriptions of the lonely moorland setting and the poetic grandeur of vision combine to make this unique novel a masterpiece of English literature. A fiend of a book -- an incredible monster... The action is laid in hell, -- only it seems places and people have English names there. --Dante Gabriel Rossetti A monument of the most striking genius that nineteenth-century womanhood has given us. --Clement Shorter The greatest work of fiction by any man or woman Europe has produced to date. --Anthony Ludovici There is no "I" in 'Wuthering Heights'. There are no governesses. There are no employers. There is love, but it is not the love of men and women. Emily was inspired by some more general conception. The impulse which urged her to create was not her own suffering or her own injuries. She looked out upon a world cleft into gigantic disorder and felt within her the power to unite it in a book. --Virginia Woolf