One of the most memorable moments from my senior semester of college was seeing Emerald Fennel’s “Wuthering Heights.” I watched it on Valentine’s Day at Silverspot Cinema with my sister and six of her friends, and I liked it way more than I should have.
Ever since I was little, I remember hearing, “The book is always better than the movie.” Up until I saw “Wuthering Heights,” I used to believe it too.
When I read Emily Brontë’s “Wuthering Heights” my sophomore summer, I remember feeling underwhelmed. In my Apple Books review, I gave it three stars; I had hoped that book would shake my soul, and it did not. That was really sad for me, given how much I had enjoyed her sisters’ works — Charlotte Brontë’s “Jane Eyre” and Anne Brontë’s “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.”
The week after watching the newest adaptation of Wuthering Heights was really stressful for me. It pained me to admit to all my friends that I had enjoyed the 2026 film more than the 19th century tome. I mean, I really loved it. I was sobbing so hard that people were turning around and pointing. I wasn’t the only one — a couple other girls in my row were similarly shaken. I won’t name names, but you know who you are.
When it came out, the “Wuthering Heights” adaptation was very controversial. Some described it as “hollow,” while others said it was worse for Emily Brontë than tuberculosis. Most critics had at least one thing to say: it’s nothing like the book.
The thing is, definitives are hard. Saying a book is “always” better than the movie is both false and highly unproductive. It’s a kind of snobbery; people who say this either want to feel smart, or they want to make you feel stupid. To me, preferences and absolutes should not be allowed in the same room. [...]
After watching “Wuthering Heights,” I went around to all my friends saying it was probably the best movie I’d ever watched and I really believed it at the time. Now, I see that my reaction had a lot to do with how my life looked last spring. I’m putting off rewatching it, because I’m scared I won’t like it as much the second time.
Knowing our preferences aren’t fixed or absolute, it can be hard to make choices. How can you know what you’ll want in three months? 10 years? You’re asked to decide things now which are permanent — even when you know your preferences are fleeting. (Anna Garziera)
0 comments:
Post a Comment