Catherine: A Retelling of Wuthering Heights, Essie Fox

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Orenda Books for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Fox’s retelling of Wuthering Heights places Catherine front and centre. The book opens with one of the most evocative scenes from the original - Heathcliif having her coffin dug up so that they can be placed together when his time comes. In disturbing her corpse he sets her ghost free and she is then taken through not just her own story but also that of her daughter into young adulthood. Fox’s writing fits nicely with the tone of the original, meaning that when passages are lifted directly from Brontë’s novel they fit quite naturally within the narrative. The story of Heathcliff and Cathy’s obsessive, unhealthy love for each other and the actions that lead to the destruction and misery of not just their own lives but all those around them is a powerful, frustrating, and heartbreaking one. 

A sense of place is so integral to Wuthering Heights; the contrast between the darkness of the Heights and the lightness of Thrushcross Grange. We see the Heights go from a relatively happy family home to one filled with grief and violence, later becoming a prison. The moors are also central, the place where Cathy and Heathcliff feel completely themselves, free from societal expectation or the judgment of Joseph. It is where they are able to come together completely. It is also a dangerous place - even those familiar with the landscape can get into trouble in inclement weather, and for those less hardy there is danger and foreboding in its wildness. Inhabitants of Thrushcross Grange are often banned from venturing beyond their own landscaped grounds. We learn a lot about the characters by where they feel most at home. Fox manages to capture the essence of this throughout.

The main purpose of this novel seems to be to make Catherine a bit more sympathetic, to explain the reasoning behind her actions and the guilt she feels when things go wrong. There are still many unlikeable characters of course, but, as with the original, you feel for them, understanding where things have gone wrong for them, and the ways in which the environments they grew up in have shaped them. Of course, there is a point where Heathcliff tips over into being unrelatable and although you do understand how he has suffered there is a limit to the sympathy you can feel as he seeks to destroy everything Edgar has ever loved. It felt slightly less extreme in this novel, although the same actions took place. The ghost of Catherine is horrified by what he has become, and the suffering he is inflicting on her daughter, but ultimately she continues to love him and there is a feeling of redemption. 

My main issue with this novel was that I didn’t feel it really added much to the story. For the most part you are just reading Wuthering Heights told in different words. Fox adds a few scenes here and there, filling in some of Heathcliff’s backstory, and taking away some of the ambiguity about his relationship with Cathy, but there just doesn’t feel like there’s any great depth being added. Yes, we experience a little more of her emotions as the story plays out, but they can be inferred from the original, so rich in feeling. Most retellings that I’ve read in the past focus on highlighting characters that were otherwise sidelined; in attempting a retelling based on one of the main characters it is inevitable I suppose that not much is gained. The point at which the story continues after Cathy’s death felt like the moment for more additions, to see how she responds to how everything plays out. For the most part this doesn’t happen, we are just told the story without comment. It is only in the last fifty pages or so that we get a little more insight into how she feels, what she thinks of the man she once loved so desperately, how she reacts to seeing her daughter grown up. If there was more of this throughout it would have felt a much stronger novel, as it is I couldn’t help but wonder what the point of the retelling was, and getting frustrated that we weren’t delving deeper with Cathy. That is not to say it’s a bad book, far from it, but I couldn’t help but feel that you’d be better off just reading the original. I adore the original, it is my most-read and favourite book, so perhaps I am coming at it from a critical place. I wonder how this book would be received by someone coming to the story for the first time. I imagine it would be read with pleasure. All the power and emotion of the original but perhaps in less intimidating writing, a bit less confusing with the repetition of character names in the second half. It is a worthy read, and the writing is rich and evocative, but for me I felt the enjoyment came from the strength of the original.

Pick up a copy:

Waterstones

Blog Tour: This Motherless Land, Nikki May

This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Doubleday for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

Funke lives a happy life in Lagos with parents who clearly love each other and a little brother who she bickers with as siblings do, but who she ultimately has a healthy relationship with. She is intelligent and has a promising future ahead of her, but then tragedy strikes and she is sent to live in England with relatives she’s never met, and who disowned her mother for falling in love with a Nigerian man. 

Settling in to England is made easier by her cousin Liv, the only person who seems genuinely happy to have her there. She tries to protect Funke (or Kate, as her English family insist on calling her) from the worst of her mother’s bile and tries to help celebrate the good times. She helps Funke to begin thinking of England as home, and in some ways reminds her of her mother who always made the bad times feel better and went all out in celebrating the good times. 

Margot, Funke’s aunt, and Dominic, her cousin, are overtly racist and treat Funke as if she is a savage who doesn’t know how to speak or swim. Although Liv is kinder she has absorbed some of the prejudice she has grown up around and it spills out at times. Funke has experienced othering for much of her life, growing up with a white mum in Nigeria she was teased for being mixed race. Later, she will return to Nigeria and have to re-learn the norms and behaviours of the country after spending years assimilating to English culture. There’s a sense that she’s never quite fully of the culture wherever she is in the eyes of those around her.

The writing is lively and engaging and you feel you have a good sense of who the characters are within a few pages of being introduced. The interactions between Funke and her family in the opening sections feel so natural and relatable, you instantly feel in safe hands with May guiding you through the story. 

May’s writing really makes you feel for the characters. Funke’s heartbreak and sense of isolation are beautifully written and sensitively handled. Her aunt Margot makes your blood boil in her spitefulness and selfishness. She appears completely without morals and her sense of entitlement is in the extreme. The grandparents have their flaws but you can see a human side to them. They become close to Funke and regret what happened with her mother. Still, Funke is is not treated equally to her cousins. There is always a sense that they are doing her a kindness rather than treating her fully as a member of the family.

Connection to family and familial duty is a central theme in the novel. Funke has many times when she feels abandoned by those she loves yet she doesn’t lose her desire to hear from them, to share her successes with them even after years of cruel silence. She sometimes wishes she were able to forget about them. She searches for connection to her mother when she moves to England, thinking that she will find traces of her there. Instead, she is often left feeling the complete absence. It is heartening to see her find that connection in Lagos where so many were touched by her mother’s commitment to education and her generosity of spirit. 

The Stone family is certainly self-interested and will do what they can to protect the family name (and their inheritance). Margot pulls strings to help her children succeed, or at the very least, give the impression of success. Yet she shows very little love to Liv, constantly criticising her weight and personality. Even as an adult, when she has been through some real trauma, conversations between them are difficult, Margot picking an aspect of her life to pull apart every time they speak. She never sees or acknowledges the light in her daughter nor does she offer support when she really needs it. Despite this, Liv has a sense of duty to her family and has moments of having to choose between doing the right thing and doing what will protect the family reputation. We see time and again how such decisions reverberate across decades, generations. 

This is a brilliantly written, gripping book that is genuinely difficult to put down. A modern re-telling of Mansfield Park, you don’t need to have read the original to enjoy it (I haven’t and was completely hooked. It was interesting to think about how the scenarios might have played out in the nineteenth century.) There is so much depth to this book it would be a mammoth essay that discussed it all. One of the best books I’ve read this year.

Pick up a copy:

Waterstones

Bookshop