Heathcliff - Monster or Misunderstood?

In my British Literature class this semester, we read Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. For those of you who know the story, you might see where I’m going with this, but for those of you who don’t, it’s a story of dark romance, betrayal, vendettas and haunting images and memories. The main “villain” in the storyline is Heathcliff, the adopted, outcast Gypsy who is adopted by a well-meaning father but despised and detested by an older “brother” who makes his life a living hell.

Heathcliff is inarguably cruel. He is conniving and vengeful, spiteful and mean, but I would say that there is means to the madness.

It all started with Hindley (his older “brother) and the way he treated him. He treated him as a servant, no better or worse than the horses that drew their buggies. That kind of treatment will turn anyone sour. But the real catalyst in the situation is Cathy. He loves her. She is his saving grace in a life that is miserable and hard, and without her, he would be completely alone. He trusts her and her alone, having grown up with her and gotten to know her spirit – the real things that matter in loving someone.

And then, seemingly out of no where, his life turns upside down. With Cathy begins to spend time with the Lintons, she edges Heathcliff out completely, almost without warning, and seemingly without a care. She goes about her business as if nothing really happened and as if it doesn’t affect her one bit. We know, as the reader that she does indeed still love Heathcliff, but he doesn’t know that. He is betrayed by the only good thing he had in life, torn from the fairytale that he thought he was living and loving.

These events are enough to make anyone mad with rage, to the point of obsessive vengeance. He decided that instead of rolling in a ball and letting the misery of lost love and affection, he would strike his revenge back on those who hurt him (much like Frankenstein’s monster, not t mention).

Personally, I feel bad for Heathcliff. I think that pain like that is real. It’s such a pain that you can’t think or breathe because everything, everyone, and every moment reminds you what you’ve lost, and there isn’t a god damned thing you can do about it. Heathcliff was severely wronged by the family that took him in to give him a better life, and by the woman whom he loved with every fiber of his being.

In all respects, though, as sorry as I feel for him, I think that he could have not partaken in the actions he did that drove others to the madness he felt as well. There’s a lesson to be learned here, that if you’ve been wronged, you should make certain not to pass on the pain and misery to others, even if they did help to ruin you, and especially if they were completely innocent or a mere product.

If I were in a situation, where the one I loved left for another without a warning, with words still wringing in my heart and head, with promises of trust and devotion still tied around my mind, I would let them see their own mistakes. It might take them a while, but vengeance never does justice, only lasts as bitter satisfaction for a short time. Rather, recover from the blows, continue life, even run away if necessary. But I would never hurt others purposefully just to spite them in the pain they inflicted on me.

But then again, I’m not Heathcliff, I’m Jessie Jean, and I wouldn't act just for spite.

Moving on...

There's a fine fine line between what you thought you knew, what you thought you believed and what is reality.

For some people, finding the reality is mind blowing and crushing, completely decimating what they believed in, including themselves.

And for others, they see it as a learning experience where they might have been made a fool of, but it's something that they can't take back, so there's no need to dwell on it. Because they see it for what it really is, and that is that they were part of a pattern that will not change for a great while. It teaches them that there are things that they need to watch out for, and being coerced is not a way of life, no matter how badly you want to believe it.

So they take it, smile, wish the pattern-maker good luck and all the happiness in the world and move on, because there's nothign left to do, and so much more important things in life.

Driving and Walking

As a driver now, I have noticed a few obvious similarities between driving and walking that I have found highly humorous.

The first being that when it comes to walking in a very crowded area, people bull their way through and impatiently swing wide to go around. The same is true in driving, obviously. Anyone who has been in a horrific traffic jam knows this. People will switch lanes desperately in hopes that is will move faster, and some idiots will even go on the median just to get that extra few feet.

Another one that makes me laugh is the utter confusion at all way stops. You're taught when you start driving that you go in order that you got to the stop -first going first and so on. But no one remembers that if you get there at the same time there are rules too. It's just the same in walking. because of the many little patches of sidewalk we have all over campus, there are many such stopping or almost-collisions. People will come to the same intersection of sidewalk paths and they stop, not knowing what to do next. But a public service announcement - when you're walking, you are NOT required to stay on your side of the sidewalk, nor do you have a two ton vehicle under you - so you CAN maneuver AROUND somoene coming head on!

The funniest connection I have made is that pertaining to snow. As it's November in Northern Indiana, it's snowed a few times. Not much, but enough to carpet the grass and pavement with about half an inch of the white stuff. Where I'm from, in Baltimore, people literally shut down when it snows, even a little bit. They drive terribly in it, either too fast and wrecking (which only succeeds in scaring people even more of it) or too slow, which causes accidents too. There's such a thing as being too cautious, and if you slam on your breaks on a slippy road, you're gonna have problems. This last time it snowed, I was walking to class via one of Manchester's many sidewalks, and ended up following a girl, being about five feet behind her. Since it was the outside sidewalk that runs along Oakwood, the Administration building and Helman, there are points where you cross a small stretch of blacktop. On this morning, the snow wasn't too bad, and traction was pretty good, especially on the concrete tops of the sidewalks. But as we continued down the sidewalk and hit that stretch of black top, the girl in front of me nearly stopped, and started shuffling her feet in a painfully slow manner. I quickly caught up with her, slowing my stride so I wouldn't have to run around her or crash into. Instead of walking brickly around her, I decided to fall back and watch her some more. As soon as the treads of her tennis shoes hit the concrete of the next portion of sidewalk, she began walking at a normal pace and stride again, so I followed suit. Another twenty feet, the other part of the "U" of Oakwood, she slowed down considerably and began her shuffle step again.

I'm not in people's heads, but I don't really think such actions are necessary, considering that most of the time they reap more problems than they avoid.

Sunny Zachariah Paul

This is my cousin's youngest child, Zachariah. Zachariah just turned three years old in May, and as he runs around the living room jumping on the carpet and laughing at just about anything and everything, I can see that he's all boy and a bundle of energy.

But as funny as it is to watch him and listen to him in a normal sense, Zachariah has a very humorous, albeit completely innocent, way of talking. Poor little Zach can't say his "f" sounds or "th" sounds. Well, I take that back. He can say words containing the letter "f" and sound "th" but they come out as an "s" sound.

Sor example, Zach at se moment is sitting at se piano, playing the keys very loudly, until Grandma tells him to play with one single singer at a time. He taps his little soot along wis se music, which is so cute and so sunny sor a child of sree years old. While he sumbs away at the keys, he sings softly to himself a song sat he apparently had been singing earlier sat morning while I slept, sat goes like; "We can be anysing, anysing we want to be! We can be anysing, snysing we want to be!" Quite a young Mozart, this one is.

My favorite Zacahriah-ism, however was last year when we were playing doggies out in the living room with him and his sister. At one point I asked Zachariah what sound a doggie makes, and he stands up, puts his hands on his hips, and belts, "WOOS WOOS!!!" I almost died.

4 a.m.

It's 4 in the morning. I'm not able to sleep thanks to my medicine from being sick all weekend. That and I'm extremely pissed off, saddened and confused all in one. I don't understand human actions. I don't understand thought processes. I don't understand how people think that what they do isn't going to get caught up and complicated even though they are deliberately hurting someone. I guess it's the peace-maker in me that is always so cautious about what I say around other people, but I can't even imagine doing something like that, especially someone within such close proximity. Someone that there is supposed to be an innate trust and understanding with.

I don't understand how people can be so judgmental, even hypocritical. Even if they have thoughts, why would you ever voice such hurtful things? There is a filter that should have been acquired from life that everyone should have, but apparently not everyone does.

It hurts. That people do such things. It hurts, that people don't actually think. It just makes life harder for everyone else.

Me:

I might be naturally stubborn but I am naturally supportive. I can't watch people self destruct or watch them hurt themselves. I would do anything for anyone. If I care about someone a lot, I would be their number one fan and help them through anything. It bothers me when I can't help people. I'm very dedicated and devoted.

Yeah...

Remember Remember - ALLITERATION!

Today, being the Fifth Of November, (ironically the day after our election) reminds me and the rest of the relevant world that political ruin can happen, and that our government is supposed to be for the people by the people.

BUT - one of my favorite and probably less appreciated part of V for Vendetta is the genius use of alliteration. Not many people pay attention to such a thing, but me being an English major and Journalism minor, I do.

"Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V."