more in earnest, more in themselves

Wuthering Heights is a torturous read. The writing is horrible, the sentences rival Dickens' in length, and 90% of the characters are awful people. (The 10% who are not are destroyed by the awful people or are dead within a few pages.) The novel is nearly devoid of happiness, and while the cover and synopsis may portray it as a love story, it is a turbulent account of despair and madness brought on by violent, all-consuming desire.

Yet, despite this, it manages to be engaging. It manages to be a book you can pick up and only put down when you are finished.

It manages this because it is real. Could the plot of a Sabrina Jeffries novel be expected to occur? Never. Neither, for that matter, could the plot of Wuthering Heights. But it is like 1984 vs. Brave New World. Both are possible, but which do we see playing out before us like a prophecy, albeit in a more timid variation?

It is terrifyingly real.