Most readers still see Wuthering Heights as a love novel to read, but it means much more than a depiction of love. The division and tearing of the class, she had written plainly in Wuthering Heights Emily Bronte (Emily Jane bronte,1818 July 30 December 19, 1848), 19th century British writer and poet. One of the famous Bronte sisters, the masterpiece of Wuthering Heights. This work is the only novel in Emily Bronte’s life, which lays down her position in the history of English Literature and the History of world literature. In addition, she has created nearly 200 poems. Nowadays, we often worry about the division and tearing of the class, the inequality and difference between the rich and the poor, as early as 19th century, the industry just took off in the United Kingdom, Emily Bronte it all see in the eyes, integration into the pen. In the love story of a person at the bottom who falls in love with a young lady, its roots and dark lines are anxiety about poverty, the desire for success, the obsession with dignity, and the re-discovery of human nature-each of which, by no means, is the story that our world today is still playing out frequently.
She recorded an “invisible Britain” that was stronger than a man and simpler than a child. “This is a comment from Jane Eyre’s author Charlotte Bronte to his sister. Her sister is Emily Bronte-the author of Wuthering Heights, one of the famous “Bronte Three Sisters.” But before he died, Emily was nameless. Even that sparkling 1846, when “Jane Eyre”, “Wuthering Heights”, “Egnis Grey” published at the same time, “Jane Eyre” by virtue of mature themes, beautiful words amazing, “Wuthering Heights” is still abandoned in the corner, the appreciation of a few. It wasn’t until the publication of Emily’s biography that the value of Wuthering Heights rose.
Long will-those who live in the gloriaaa …. in the gloria … in the gloriaaaaaaaa … Hiep … hiep … hoeraaaaaaa …
The floors boomed, the windows rattled, clink of glasses, the ringing of spoons and forks, knives and plates, and the tugging of noisy feet accompanied the song.
It was a party in the new home of Father Bell, the well-known cobbler from the Breestraat in Rotterdam. Years of diligence and thrift had made him acquire a shop of ladies’, gentlemen’s, and children’s shoes set up according to the requirements of the time, and the festive opening of them was well-nurtured in the spacious rooms above the store. family, friends and acquaintances.
Very mournful days had followed then, and more pressure had prevailed in the house of death than the sad sons were welcome.
Finally the funeral was followed, a ceremony that they would never forget. Ah, how sad it was they, when the beloved dead in his last house was carried away from the house where he had spent his whole life.
It had been a long and daring procession. First, the city bus had gone with a burning candle in hand. Then the bailiff was followed by half of the aldermen, who preceded the coffin. The coffin was carried in black by twelve men and followed by Geraert and Nanning, further by the bailiff and the other aldermen and finally by a large number of interested people, who wanted to prove the last honor to the deceased. Thus they had gone to church under the solemn corpse of the choir boys, where the funeral service was being held, and finally the coffin had been let down in the quarry.
Silently the brothers had returned home. She took little or no part in the lavish funeralsale, which now followed the custom of those times, and it was a relief to them when all the guests had finally left. At first they felt free and were able to air their tears unseen.