This is not a love story. Not even close. Emily Brontë has nothing to do with Jane Austen. It’s not about passion or unrequited love. This is a horror story with more villains than heroes. It’s about obsession, insanity and cruelty. A sheer endless circle of violence and domestic abuse. With insufferable characters and their vile actions. They loathe and destroy each other on purpose. They are self-centered, stubborn and unreasonable. Among all these lunatics lives the housekeeper, a young woman, telling us about the people she grew up with. This story is so vicious, it shocks its readers until this day. And it is a masterpiece. Just don’t try to make it something it isn’t. If my description above appeals to you, you’re in for a treat. If you’re looking for romance, read something else.
