. . . "it would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how much I love him; and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, . . . "
Oh, swoon. Oh throb. Oh, how many semicolons can one use in a single novel?
I read this book every summer btw fifth and eighth grade. Sigh.
3 comments:
Those semi-colons serve a useful narrative purpose. Each one denotes a small throb, a tempting swoon, a racking sigh, an inward groan, a gasp aching to turn into a full-fledged pang; in short, together they create a whole palette of emotions.
Reminded of the phrase "painting wet".
Those cannot have been summers ill-spent.
("Uplie", I am commanded now by the ever-sensitive WV bot. Could that be the advice once given Emily, in her disheveled slugabed moments?)
Oh well, a few more drips from the same tap:
Emily Jane Brontë: "The night is darkening round me"
Emily Jane Brontë: Remembrance
Ah yes. I loved all the Brontes and used to read their biographies. In one they would compose stories by walking around and around the dinner table. In another Emily had out of the body experiences in which she flew over the moors like an owl in the night.
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