Wuthering Heights adaptations: 1988 (Japanese) and 2009

I don’t know what possessed me, but yesterday I saw two different adaptations of Wuthering Heights: Arashi ga oka (1988) from Japan, and the 2009 TV series featuring Tom Hardy. 

There isn’t much to say about the 2009 series. There are changes. One of the main changes is that they remove the character of Lockwood and change the structure, starting with the removal of Linton Heathcliff to Wuthering Heights, and young Cathy’s first meeting with Heathcliff, which means that we see the revenge on the second generation before knowing who they are and how they relate to each other. Could that be an interesting choice? Perhaps, but I don’t think it works very well. 

Another fault is what I see as a carelessness about the ages of the characters: the introduction of Catherine to the Lintons and the incident of the bulldog should take place in their early teens, we see them differently when they are adults; we need to see time pass between Catherine’s introduction to the Lintons and the marriage proposal, to see Heathcliff find Catherine slowly drifting apart from him; the series also doesn’t mark very well the 17-year gap, as the characters barely look any older.

The worst change is the ending with Heathcliff—I shall be a good girl and not spoil it for those who want to see the series, but I’m sure you would agree. But overall, it’s quite a forgettable adaptation: the series makes more explicit the incest idea but does nothing with it; Tom Hardy and Charlotte Riley have more chemistry than Kay Adshead and Ken Hutchison (in the otherwise commendable 1978 series), but as we see in most adaptations, much brutality is removed, Catherine is defanged, and it doesn’t have the strangeness and savagery of the novel.

Arashi ga oka has a much more interesting approach. As Kurosawa creates Throne of Blood out of Macbeth and Ran out of King Lear, Yoshishige Yoshida takes Emily Bronte’s novel as a starting point and creates something different, something very Japanese. In Wuthering Heights, Heathcliff’s method of revenge hinges on 18th century English property, inheritance, and marriage laws; all this has to change when Yoshida adapts the story for feudal Japan. The characters are different—Onimaru is not Heathcliff; Kinu is not Catherine; Hidemaru is not Hindley; Mitsuhiko is not Edgar Linton; Tae is not Isabella; Yoshimaru is not Hareton; young Kinu is not Cathy—the characters can be mapped onto Emily Bronte’s characters but they are different and their relationships are different. For instance, Kinu marries Mitsuhiko not because marrying Onimaru would bring her disgrace and she wants to be rich, but because, according to custom, she would have to become a priestess and leave the mountain, and marrying him is her only way to escape that fate. The relationship between Kinu and Mitsuhiko is therefore changed, and Onimaru’s method of revenge is not the same. 

One may complain that Kinu (the equivalent of Catherine) is defanged and she doesn’t quite match the wildness and savagery of Onimaru, but as I said, Yoshida only uses Wuthering Heights as a starting point and creates a work of art of his own. Arashi ga oka is very Japanese—even the acting seems to bear the influence of Noh theatre. And yet, when I think about it, Arashi ga oka has the violence, savagery, eroticism, and strangeness of the novel; and Onimaru has the brutishness, ferocity, and viciousness of Heathcliff; he even seems demonic. 

I can see why many people think Arashi ga oka is the best adaptation of Wuthering Heights. If you want a faithful adaptation, this won’t be for you. But if you want a film that stands on its own and at the same time does capture the strangeness, brutality, and eroticism of Emily Bronte’s novel, this is the film to watch. There is something elemental about it. 

I will also add that Arashi ga oka is very visually striking and well-framed. Even if you don’t like the film as a whole, you would love the cinematography. 

Strongly recommend.

Wuthering Heights (1978) and the difficulty of adapting Emily Bronte’s novel

Anyone who loves Wuthering Heights has long recognised the difficulty, if not the impossibility, of adapting it (properly) for the screen. There is something about it that resists adaptation. My friend Himadri says “There seems something so wild & elemental in the novel. And as soon as you flesh it out with actors and with real locations, it all comes down to earth with a bump. There’s a sense of terror running through the novel that no adaptation seems able to capture.” 

Since the Laurence Olivier – Merle Oberon film in 1939, filmmakers have had a long tradition of reducing the savagery and brutality, cutting away the second half, and turning Wuthering Heights into a romance. Over and over again, I have come across people who come to Wuthering Heights expecting a passionate love story, clearly because of pop culture and all these film adaptations, and getting shocked by the emotional violence and the detestable characters in the book. So I came to the 1978 TV series with great expectations, having read that it’s the most faithful to the novel, and noticed that it’s made by the BBC one year after they gave us the best adaptation of Anna Karenina (Caroline Langrishe, who plays Kitty in Anna Karenina, here plays Isabella).

As it turns out, the 1978 has the opposite problem: the cruelty is there, the violence is there, the hate is there—but where is the love, the passion? I don’t see the chemistry, the passion between Catherine and Heathcliff. The problem is not Kay Adshead, who I think is the best Catherine I’ve seen—she depicts the selfishness, the wayward personality and fiery temper of Catherine, but she also has charm—you can see why Heathcliff is obsessed with her and you can see why Edgar Linton is drawn to her wild, intense personality. But Ken Hutchison is not quite Heathcliff. He rants, he screams, but I don’t quite see the passion from inside. I don’t see any chemistry between him and Catherine. I don’t see what Catherine and Isabella see in him. Wuthering Heights may be a story of abuse and hate, but the love story between Heathcliff and Catherine is important—even if it’s a tortured, obsessive, and destructive kind of love that destroys everything in its path, there is love—we need to see that love, that passion between Heathcliff and Catherine, and I think the series doesn’t show that. And it’s not just Catherine. To put it perhaps a bit crudely, Heathcliff should be hot—he is savage, vengeful, a monster even, but he should be hot—Catherine may think “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”, but Isabella doesn’t have that and we must understand why she is attracted to him, against reason, against Catherine’s warning, against Edgar’s protest. 

But this is why it’s so hard, if not impossible, to adapt Wuthering Heights: filmmakers usually reduce the ruthlessness and viciousness so that Heathcliff can be a romantic figure; the 1978 series swings too far the other way.

As for the rest of the cast, I like Maria Swailes as the young Catherine Earnshaw, David Robb as Edgar, and Caroline Langrishe as Isabella; Pat Heywood is a different interpretation of Nelly Dean, playing her as a good, reliable housekeeper (not quite my interpretation), but she is very good; the only one I really don’t like, apart from Ken Hutchison as Heathcliff, is Richard Kay as Mr Lockwood, who has a melodramatic way of acting that takes me out of the story. 

Is this worth watching? I think it is. You might disagree with my views on Ken Hutchison’s performance, and this is an adaptation that takes seriously the dark and brutal side of the characters. 

Bàn về AI trong truyền thông và nghệ thuật

Đăng lại phỏng vấn trên Tạp chí Thế Kỷ Mới (Song Chi thực hiện).



Tạp chí Thế Kỷ Mới: Chị nghĩ gì về sự ra đời và phát triển của AI trong đời sống xã hội con người?

Hải Di Nguyễn:

AI có mặt tốt lẫn mặt xấu. Thích hay không thích, tôi cho rằng ai cũng có thể thấy AI đang phát triển rất nhanh, và trong một số khía cạnh, xã hội đang không biết làm gì để đối phó những mặt xấu và nguy hiểm của AI. Luật pháp luôn phải chạy sau.

TCTKM: Bây giờ xin được khoanh vùng trong lĩnh vực báo chí và sáng tác, chị nghĩ gì về chuyện sử dụng AI trong lĩnh vực báo chí, sáng tác, kể cả văn chương, âm nhạc, hội họa, phim ảnh…? Và kể cả dịch thuật nữa, thưa chị?

Hải Di Nguyễn:

Trước tiên, AI có nghĩa rất rộng: AI dùng trong nghiên cứu, y khoa (như đọc X-ray, chẩn đoán bệnh, phẫu thuật…), công nghệ (như xe hơi tự lái), vũ khí (như hệ thống drone), v.v…

Dạng AI mọi người thường dùng, và chủ đề của câu hỏi này, là generative AI—là dạng trí tuệ nhân tạo học từ một dữ liệu khổng lồ rồi từ đó tạo nội dung mới như văn bản, hình ảnh, video, âm nhạc, âm thanh, code, v.v.

Quan điểm của tôi khá rõ ràng: nếu bạn dùng AI để tạo bài viết, tranh, hình ảnh, video, bài hát… bạn không phải là tác giả/ nghệ sĩ. Ngay cả khi bạn viết prompt rất chi tiết, bạn cũng chỉ tương tự một commissioner—đó vẫn là sản phẩm của máy tính, bạn muốn nhảy vào đứng tên. Những người bênh vực “AI art” thường so sánh với nhiếp ảnh, vì nhiếp ảnh là giơ máy chụp cái sẵn có, không như hội họa, nhưng đó là cách nhìn rất sai về nhiếp ảnh: nhiếp ảnh gia vẫn quyết định góc máy, khuôn hình, bố cục, khoảng cách, chiều sâu, ánh sáng, v.v.

Cá nhân tôi cũng không có nhu cầu đọc sách, xem phim, nghe nhạc… của AI. AI chỉ có thể tạo “tác phẩm” từ dữ liệu có sẵn—đi xa hơn có thể nói là ăn cắp—nó không sống, không có kinh nghiệm, không có cảm xúc… Người nghệ sĩ có thể chịu ảnh hưởng và lấy nguồn cảm hứng từ những tác phẩm và nghệ sĩ khác, nhưng vẫn có cái riêng: có kinh nghiệm riêng, góc nhìn riêng, cảm xúc riêng, yêu ghét riêng, ám ảnh riêng… Đó là chưa kể, khi đọc sách, tôi không chỉ quan tâm tới câu chuyện và nhân vật mà cũng chú ý giọng văn và vision của tác giả.

Nhưng nói một cách đơn giản, nếu bạn không thèm bỏ công viết, tại sao tôi phải bỏ công đọc?

TCTKM: Dù muốn dù không, chúng ta cũng không ngăn cản được “làn sóng” phát triển của AI, giống như với điện thoại thông minh hay mạng xã hội trước đây. Vậy theo chị sử dụng AI như thế nào thì có thể chấp nhận được, hoặc hoàn toàn không thể chấp nhận được?

Hải Di Nguyễn:

Theo tôi, AI có thể dùng, thậm chí nên dùng, khi nó là công cụ, tiết kiệm thời gian, không dùng để sáng tác hay để “suy nghĩ” thay người. Chẳng hạn, nếu bạn phỏng vấn ai đó bằng video, tại sao phải tốn vài tiếng đồng hồ chép xuống nếu có thể dùng AI? Nếu bạn chụp hoặc scan một tờ giấy chi chít chữ, việc gì phải ngồi xuống tự tay viết lại nếu có thể dùng AI?

Nhưng ngoài chuyện sáng tác như đã nói, tôi cũng cho rằng chúng ta không nên để AI “suy nghĩ” thay người. Nhiều sinh viên để ChatGPT viết essay, chả thấy gì quan trọng, nhưng viết không chỉ là viết, viết cũng là nghĩ, là sắp xếp lập luận, là xem xét lỗ hổng và phản ví dụ, là cân nhắc góc nhìn khác… Đôi khi tôi đổi suy nghĩ khi đang viết.

Lắm lúc trên Twitter, tôi thấy một số người càng lúc càng phụ thuộc AI, phụ thuộc máy móc, thậm chí dùng ChatGPT cho những thứ cần để tâm, để hồn vào đó như note cảm ơn, diễn văn đám cưới, v.v. Tôi từng đọc một bài báo về một chàng trai yêu AI chatbot, sau đó tự tử vì mất “bạn gái AI”, nhưng câu chuyện có cái kết càng kinh khủng hơn nữa: ông bố sau đó viết cáo phó cho cậu con trai bằng ChatGPT!

Ngay cả khi dùng AI làm công cụ, tôi cũng cho rằng chúng ta không nên phụ thuộc quá nhiều. Quen dùng máy tính, không những viết chữ xấu mà không đọc được chữ viết tay trong tài liệu cũ. Quen GPS và Google Maps, không còn khả năng xác định hướng hay nhớ đường. Quen ChatGPT…

Ngoài ra tôi vẫn ưu tiên dùng các công cụ tìm kiếm thông tin, thay vì đặt câu hỏi cho ChatGPT. Nhiều ví dụ cho thấy AI có thể tổng hợp thông tin sai, hoặc đưa câu trả lời vớ vẩn do trích từ Reddit, hoặc “mê sảng”, hoặc dẫn nguồn không tồn tại.

TCTKM: Với kinh nghiệm của chị, làm thế nào để kiểm tra được một bài báo hay một tác phẩm nào đó là có sự hỗ trợ của AI hoặc hoàn toàn do AI tạo ra? Và bây giờ thì AI còn có thể chưa hơn được con người hoặc vẫn có thể còn nhận ra được, nhưng trong tương lai 5, 10 năm nữa thì sao?

Hải Di Nguyễn:

Ở đây, có thể tạm chia ra thành bài viết và hình ảnh.

Với bài viết, chúng ta có thể sử dụng một số công cụ như ZeroGPT, Quillbot, Humanize AI… Không hẳn đúng mọi trường hợp và cũng không thể hoàn toàn chắc chắn, nhưng thông thường bài viết của AI vẫn phần nào nhận ra được: có thể trôi chảy, có thể lý lẽ, nhưng vẫn thiếu cái giọng, cái hồn. Người ta hay nói một trong những dấu hiệu bài do AI viết là dấu em dash, nhưng chẳng đúng—bản thân tôi nhiều năm nay đã thích em dash—nhưng có một số cấu trúc câu, kiểu câu… AI hay dùng. Không rõ trong tiếng Việt thế nào vì tôi chủ yếu đọc sách và dùng mạng tiếng Anh, nhưng AI tiếng Anh rất thích viết kiểu câu “It’s not X—it’s Y”.

Với hình ảnh, có thể dùng những công cụ như SynthID (của Google), ZeroGPT, isitai.com… kết hợp với reverse image search (google bằng hình). Ngoài ra, vì AI hiện nay chưa hoàn hảo, có thể nhìn bằng mắt thường: tay, chân (đặc biệt số ngón tay), chữ trong hình, background, bóng và hướng sáng… Hình và video bằng AI thường cũng quá “láng”, quá hoàn hảo, không thấy texture.

TCTKM: Chị hình dung thế nào về báo chí, truyền thông, văn học nghệ thuật trong 10, 15 năm nữa với cái đà phát triển của AI như hiện nay?

Hải Di Nguyễn:

Với đà phát triển của AI hiện nay, đặc biệt khi không những mọi công ty mà (gần như) mọi quốc gia đều đang tranh nhau phát triển AI, rất khó biết được chuyện gì sẽ xảy ra.

Trong nghệ thuật, AI sẽ không bao giờ có một Shakespeare, Tolstoy, hay Rembrandt, nhưng không phải ai cũng là Shakespeare, Tolstoy, hay Rembrandt. Nhiều người sẽ bị thay thế, không thể cạnh tranh. Nhiều người sẽ mất việc. Đặc biệt trong những lĩnh vực như digital art, đồ họa, minh họa, v.v…

Những nhà văn viết những thể loại giải trí như thriller, lãng mạn… không có văn chương nhiều và có lượng fan lớn đã và sẽ tiếp tục biến AI thành cái máy bơm tiền, nhưng tôi cho là AI sẽ dần dần giết chết mảng tự xuất bản (self-publishing) vì độc giả muốn sách của người thật viết và có người thật biên tập.

AI sẽ thay đổi nghệ thuật, cũng như sự xuất hiện của nhiếp ảnh làm thay đổi hội họa, dù đổi thế nào tôi không biết. Nhưng tôi dự đoán, sẽ có một counter-movement: thời đại ebook, người ta vẫn mua sách giấy; thời đại streaming, người ta vẫn mua DVD, CD, vinyl; thời đại smartphone và mạng xã hội, một số người quyết định bỏ hết và quay về với “điện thoại cục gạch”; khi AI phát triển, cũng sẽ có những người hướng về những cái cũ, những cái truyền thống đơn sơ phản AI…

TCTKM: Trở lại với câu hỏi chung: những điểm tích cực, tiêu cực của AI trong đời sống xã hội con người? Liệu chúng ta có nên bi quan, lo lắng hay nên mừng rỡ?

Hải Di Nguyễn:

Nói về AI nói chung, chúng ta có thể lạc quan về thành tựu và khả năng của AI trong công nghệ, y tế…

Riêng về generative AI, tôi cảm thấy rất khó lạc quan, vì những điều đã nói và những vấn đề khác như deepfake, tin giả, tuyên truyền, lừa đảo… Xã hội sẽ ra sao nếu tới một lúc nào đó, chúng ta không thể biết đâu là thật, đâu là giả—nhìn giả, tưởng là thật—nhìn thật, nghi là giả? Đặc biệt khi nhiều người càng lúc càng phụ thuộc vào AI và để đầu óc nhũn dần đi?

Song Chi (thực hiện)

Wuthering Heights: what race is Heathcliff?

As my previous blog post was about race and “diverse casting” in period dramas, let’s talk about Heathcliff: what is his race/ ethnicity?

This is how Heathcliff is described by Mr Lockwood, a stranger and the first narrator of Wuthering Heights: 

“He is a dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose.” (ch.1)

When Heathcliff returns after a three years’ absence, Nelly Dean also describes him as having “dark face and hair” (ch.10). The word “gipsy” appears 6 times throughout the novel—said by Mr Lockwood, Mrs Earnshaw, Hindley, Mrs Linton, Joseph, and Edgar Linton—6 different characters. Some of these characters however also use different terms throughout the story. 

In one scene, to cheer up little Heathcliff, Nelly Dean says: 

““A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,” I continued, “if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we’ve done washing, and combing, and sulking—tell me whether you don’t think yourself rather handsome? I’ll tell you, I do. You’re fit for a prince in disguise. Who knows but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each of them able to buy up, with one week’s income, Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange together? And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors and brought to England. Were I in your place, I would frame high notions of my birth; and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer!”” (ch.7) 

I have come across some readers who naively think this means Heathcliff is half Indian half Chinese, but all this means is that Nelly Dean—and therefore we—cannot tell Heathcliff’s parentage and origin. It might mean that she doesn’t know what Indian and Chinese people look like (who look too different to be mixed up); or we can read that speech as Nelly Dean babbling some nonsense to cheer up an upset child. 

Emily Bronte complicates matters. Mrs Linton for example says: 

“I declare he is that strange acquisition my late neighbour made, in his journey to Liverpool—a little Lascar, or an American or Spanish castaway.” (ch.6) 

The term “Lascar” is used for sailors from India or South Asia. 

All these different terms mean that Heathcliff is racially ambiguous, and that it’s Emily Bronte’s intention that his ethnicity is uncertain—the main point is that he is clearly an outsider—he is an outside force that brings destruction upon the Earnshaw family (and the Linton family) and harmony is restored only when he’s gone. I don’t think Heathcliff is simply a white guy with darker skin and dark hair, like Italian or Spanish; but I also don’t think he’s black, as depicted in the 2011 film, because he would be called a “mulatto” and there would be no ambiguity. My guess is that Heathcliff is mixed race—his father is Mr Earnshaw and his mother is either “Gypsy” or Indian. If we look at the cast of the 2026 film, Heathcliff in my head would not look like Jacob Elordi but perhaps more like Shazad Latif, an actor of mixed English, Scottish, and Pakistani descent, who for some odd reason is cast as the pale and blond Edgar Linton. 

I would say though that Heathcliff’s racial ambiguity is important and Emily Bronte can maintain and emphasise the uncertainty because this is a novel—a screen adaptation has to commit to one interpretation or another—I personally think Heathcliff is mixed race. 

What do you think? 

The Other Bennet Sister and “diverse casting”

In my previous blog post about the TV series The Other Bennet Sister, I wrote about all the changes made to the characters of Pride and Prejudice, and the resulting loss of subtlety and complexity. Now I’d like to address the racial aspect of the series. 

In The Other Bennet Sister, Mary is the black sheep, the one bullied or at least neglected by everyone else in the family, the one assumed to have no prospects. The optician’s son however takes an interest in her, and asks her to dance with him at the ball, so she does, and she dances with him twice. Charlotte Lucas then tells Mary to be careful: two dances imply liking; the third time is going to be remarked upon. Then Mrs Bennet appears and, displaying a cruelty and harshness not seen in Jane Austen’s character, tells Mary not to dance with or speak to him any longer, as he’s an optician’s son, and an association with someone in trade would ruin the prospects of her sisters. 

The remarkable part here is that we can all see that he’s Indian, but nobody mentions his race, as though class is the only barrier. 

From what I can see, there are other non-white characters in the rest of the series, and this is something we see again and again: Netflix and the BBC and Channel 4 and ITV and other companies randomly cast black and brown people in adaptations of 19th century novels and other period dramas. This has gone on for years and seems to have become standard practice. And I have always disliked it. Why do you assume that I need to see someone “looking like me” represented on the screen? Why do you assume that I need to share the same race or ethnicity as a fictional character in order to find them relatable? Why do you assume that I would relate to a character just because we have the same race? What do I have in common with, for example, the characters in Crazy Rich Asians? Why would I want to see actors of the same ethnicity as me randomly cast in adaptations of classic European novels, like Hong Chau playing Nelly Dean in Wuthering Heights? Do we not have our own stories? Do we not have our own classics? Do production companies not understand how insulting this is? 

More importantly, “diverse casting” in period dramas is a whitewashing of history, as though 19th century Britain had been a colourblind society, as though people of all races back then had been equal, as though racism had never existed. If someone grows up watching these films and TV series—every single one has black and brown people as middle-class and upper-class characters, on equal footing with white characters—that person is going to have a very distorted understanding of the past. Bridgerton may have the excuse that it’s a fantasy world, but what excuses does The Other Bennet Sister have? 

I’m going to note too that this is very different from casting in Shakespeare. My favourite King Lear production has a black Lear (Don Warrington). My favourite version of Coriolanus has a black Coriolanus (David Oyelowo). Shakespeare’s plays are full of artifice—race-bending is no big deal as long as it doesn’t draw attention to itself and the play is taken seriously. But film and TV are supposedly more naturalistic; if it doesn’t present itself as a fantasy world as Bridgerton does (which I have never watched), it would be taken to be meant to be realistic; and the depiction of Britain in the late 18th, early 19th century as a colourblind society is unrealistic. I would even say that the erasure of the racial prejudice of the past—erasure of the experiences of victims of racism—is a racist lie. 

Unfortunately I seem to be the only one having these opinions. 

Why I stopped watching The Other Bennet Sister

With apologies to Aled, my former classmate who’s in the cast.  

When I first heard there was going to be a TV adaptation of The Other Bennet Sister, a Pride and Prejudice spin-off, I already had apprehensions: it’s about Mary, the most boring of the Bennet sisters. This is how Jane Austen describes her: 

“… After a song or two, and before [Elizabeth] could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.

Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well…” (ch.6) 

But Janice Hadlow wrote a novel focusing on her, so I thought maybe something interesting could be done about the character of Mary: she’s the only plain one in the family; she’s the odd one out between two pairs of sisters (Jane – Elizabeth and Kitty – Lydia). 

In the end, I only watched 2 (out of 10 episodes). The Other Bennet Sister, I think, has 3 main problems. 

First of all, in Pride and Prejudice, Mary’s not only plain and boring, but also conceited, priggish, and rather oblivious; in the series The Other Bennet Sister (I haven’t read the book), Mary is bookish, socially awkward, more likeable than Jane Austen’s character, and constantly bullied by her own family. At the beginning, it feels as though they want to turn her into Fanny Price. Almost everyone in the series—at least in the first 2 episodes—is mean-spirited: everyone makes fun of Mary; Mrs Bennet treats her cruelly and constantly puts her down; Caroline Bingley mocks her before others, in a way that a genteel woman would not; Charlotte Lucas, now her friend instead of Elizabeth’s, becomes two-faced and “steals” Mr Collins behind her back; even Elizabeth, who in Jane Austen’s novel only looks at Mr Bennet when Mary embarrasses herself in public, now insensitively says to Mr Bennet “Papa, this has gone too far, and if you don’t step in, I will” when Mary can see her. All these characters are changed beyond recognition. Even if we pretend that The Other Bennet Sister is its own universe and separate from Pride and Prejudice—ignoring that the series passes over most plot points of Jane Austen’s novel, expecting the audience to be familiar with the story—the changes are terrible because they make the characters one-dimensional and extremely unpleasant. Elizabeth, described several times as quick-witted, here displays no wit. 

As the characters are all one-dimensional—Mrs Bennet especially is not only annoying but cruel and obnoxious—the series feels one-note. Perhaps it’s going to improve from the third episode, but I’m not interested enough to continue. 

Not only so, the series constantly gets on my nerves as it’s written by people—native speakers—who don’t know proper English. The Other Bennet Sister portrays Mary Bennet as an awkward, pedantic girl who corrects a guy during a dance for saying “less” when he should say “fewer”, and yet Mary says “My mother is concerned for my sisters and I.” These errors take me out of the story. 

(I’m not even going to talk about the racial aspect of the casting). 

Now some of you might say I should not dismiss a whole series after watching only 1/5 of it and perhaps it would get better, but I’m going to say that the first 2 episodes (at least) are very crude and very silly. Not a fan. 

Wuthering Heights: “people can have many cousins and of all sorts”

One of the funny things Emily Bronte does in Wuthering Heights is that, instead of writing from the third-person point of view, she creates two first-person narrators and the first one—Mr Lockwood—knows nothing and makes the wrong assumptions about everyone and everything he sees. 

““And who is that Earnshaw: Hareton Earnshaw, who lives with Mr Heathcliff? Are they relations?”

“No; he is the late Mrs Linton’s nephew.”

“The young lady’s cousin, then?”

“Yes; and her husband was her cousin also: one on the mother’s, the other on the father’s side: Heathcliff married Mr Linton’s sister.”” (ch.4) 

That must be confusing to a first-time reader. It probably doesn’t help that we have a Heathcliff; an Edgar Linton; a Linton Heathcliff; a Catherine Earnshaw (called Cathy by Heathcliff), who becomes Mrs Catherine Linton; a Catherine Linton (generally called Cathy), who later becomes Mrs Catherine Heathcliff then Mrs Catherine Earnshaw; etc. Let’s shuffle the names for a laugh, why not. 

Nicole of Bibliographing had a very good blog post, years ago, about the circling of the names. But right now, I’d like to focus on the relations between the characters—the cousins. 

““Softly, Miss,” answered the addressed. “You’ll lose nothing by being civil. Though Mr Hareton, there, be not the master’s son, he’s your cousin: and I was never hired to serve you.”

“He my cousin!” cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh.

“Yes, indeed,” responded her reprover.

“Oh, Ellen! don’t let them say such things,” she pursued in great trouble. “Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London: my cousin is a gentleman’s son. That my—” she stopped, and wept outright; upset at the bare notion of relationship with such a clown.

“Hush, hush!” I whispered; “people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn’t keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.”

“He’s not—he’s not my cousin, Ellen!” she went on, gathering fresh grief from reflection, and flinging herself into my arms for refuge from the idea.” (ch.18) 

For consistency, I have been referring to the elder Catherine as Catherine, and her daughter as Cathy. 

Look at it: Cathy gets married twice; the first time to Linton Heathcliff, her father’s nephew; the second time to Hareton Earnshaw, her mother’s nephew. First cousins both times! (though perhaps less gross than Fanny Price and Edmund Bertram in Mansfield Park—if we look at it with modern eyes—as they didn’t grow up together). 

Everything is even more disturbing if we consider the possibility that Heathcliff and Catherine are half-siblings. Consider the facts. One day Mr Earnshaw announces he’s going to Liverpool—for what? he doesn’t say, or at least Nelly Dean only says the time is the beginning of harvest—and comes home 3 days later with a boy.  

“… a tale of his seeing it starving, and houseless, and as good as dumb, in the streets of Liverpool, where he picked it up and inquired for its owner. Not a soul knew to whom it belonged, he said; and his money and time being both limited, he thought it better to take it home with him at once, than run into vain expenses there: because he was determined he would not leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was, that my mistress grumbled herself calm; and Mr Earnshaw told me to wash it, and give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children.” (ch.4) 

I think we can all be sure that there were many “starving, and houseless” kids on the streets of Liverpool at the time—why does Mr Earnshaw bring home this one?  

“He took to Heathcliff strangely, believing all he said (for that matter, he said precious little, and generally the truth), and petting him up far above Cathy, who was too mischievous and wayward for a favourite.

So, from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house; and at Mrs Earnshaw’s death, which happened in less than two years after, the young master had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent’s affections and his privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries.” (ibid.)

This is very different from the case of Tom Jones, found in the house of Squire Allworthy as a baby. It’s also difficult to explain the partiality Mr Earnshaw has for Heathcliff—Nelly uses the words “favourite” and “partiality”—as Heathcliff doesn’t quite have the charisma, the lovable qualities of Tom Jones. 

If Heathcliff is indeed Mr Earnshaw’s illegitimate child, which I think is highly possible, Wuthering Heights is a story of incest, of love between half-siblings. As Catherine says: 

“… Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton’s is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.” (ch.9) 

Maybe you think that because you and he have the same father, Catherine! 

And if this is the case, Cathy and Linton would be even closer than first cousins, sharing three grandparents! 

Crazy book.

Wuthering Heights: “I own I did not like her, after infancy was past”

One common complaint about Wuthering Heights, which I have always found strange, is that the characters are all detestable. True, but it doesn’t bother me. When I read a novel, only two things matter:

• 1/ Are the characters well-delineated? Are they alive (within the world of the novel)?
• 2/ Is the author good at what she’s doing—what she has set out to do? Do I like the author? 

The characters of Wuthering Heights, generally speaking, are various shades of unpleasantness, but they’re very much alive. They feel, they love, they hate, they change and grow. 

Now when I reread Wuthering Heights, I love it even more as I see things previously missed, and see the characters differently. Nelly Dean is no longer a sane, sensible, trustworthy housekeeper—she is judgemental, manipulative, unreliable—she takes part in the bullying of Heathcliff as a child, meddles in others’ affairs, causes the rift between Heathcliff and Catherine, provokes Catherine in front of Edgar Linton, neglects Cathy in Edgar Linton’s absence (and gives her the chance to sneak off to Wuthering Heights), and so on. Heathcliff is one of the most brutal and vengeful characters in fiction and perhaps there’s always been some savagery in him, but at the same time Emily Bronte lets us see what years of prejudice, hate, and injustice do to a person—as Shakespeare does with the character of Shylock—and part of the art of Wuthering Heights is in the depiction of a villainous character from the perspective of someone who dislikes and despises him from the start and perhaps has contributed to that villainy. I think there’s also some envy in that hostility, as Heathcliff is an outsider brought into the house and getting preferential treatment from Mr Earnshaw, whereas Nelly Dean is a servant and forever a servant. 

I also see Hindley Earnshaw differently. He has treated Heathcliff abominably, he has been a bully, but is his hatred of Heathcliff not understandable? From the start, the appearance of Heathcliff in the house goes together with the present he wanted that got broken. The new boy, with unknown parentage, also usurps his place and gets special treatment from his father. It is no wonder that Hindley is angry for years, and puts Heathcliff “in his place” after the death of Mr Earnshaw. As he becomes self-destructive after the loss of his life and drinks himself to death, neglecting his own son, I can’t help seeing him as a tragic figure. 

Linton Heathcliff is another character that I now see differently. 

“I divined, from this account, that utter lack of sympathy had rendered young Heathcliff selfish and disagreeable, if he were not so originally; and my interest in him, consequently, decayed: though still I was moved with a sense of grief at his lot, and a wish that he had been left with us.” (ch.21) 

I remember last time feeling irritated by his peevishness, pettiness, and self-absorption, and disliking his contemptuous attitude towards Hareton Earnshaw. 

“… the boy finding animation enough while discussing Hareton’s faults and deficiencies, and relating anecdotes of his goings on; and the girl relishing his pert and spiteful sayings, without considering the ill-nature they evinced. I began to dislike, more than to compassionate Linton, and to excuse his father in some measure for holding him cheap.” (ibid.)

But this time I just feel sorry for Linton, so ill and weak, so cruelly used by his own father. So bent on revenge, Heathcliff has no love or concern for anyone else, bullying his own son and calling Linton “a pitiful, shuffling, worthless thing”. 

“Linton here started from his slumber in bewildered terror, and asked if any one had called his name.

“No,” said Catherine; “unless in dreams. I cannot conceive how you manage to doze out of doors, in the morning.”

“I thought I heard my father,” he gasped, glancing up to the frowning nab above us. “You are sure nobody spoke?”” (ch.26) 

Why did I, in my first reading, not notice how pathetic and terrified he was? 

This is a masterful novel. Emily Bronte is a great writer, I love her prose, and I suppose one of the reasons I like her is that, even though she depicts some selfish and terrible characters, hers is not a bleak, misanthropic view of humanity: Wuthering Heights is about the cycle of hate and violence, but love and compassion break that cycle. 

Some further thoughts on the Oscars

Last night I watched the Oscars. Why did I do that to myself?, some of you might ask. I don’t know. Some of the wins were shocking.

I suppose it says something about the Oscars—and Hollywood as a whole—that a film such as Sinners is so celebrated, with 16 nominations and 4 wins. But unlike many people on the internet, I don’t think it’s entirely political—Sinners is popular, and that popularity is revealing about the lack of discernment among the audience, among people in the film industry and in film criticism. One may argue that the Oscar for Best Cinematography going to Sinners is political—Train Dreams has much better visual storytelling, much more interesting framing, much more memorable shots—but Autumn Durald Arkapaw became the first female cinematographer to win an Oscar. One may argue that the Best Actor award for Michael B. Jordan is political, as he’s the weakest of the five nominees—the other four are all better, Timothée Chalamet in Marty Supreme and Ethan Hawke in Blue Moon especially carry the whole film. But Sinners *is* popular. I can see the hype online. I can see that lots of people don’t seem to notice that it’s a stupid film, a complete mess in which the director constantly spoonfeeds the audience. I can see lots of people go mad over Michael B. Jordan’s performance as the twins, sounding like they have only watched five films their whole lives and the other four are Marvel. It’s nonsensical that the Oscar for Best Actor is awarded to Michael B. Jordan instead of Ethan Hawke, Timothée Chalamet, or Wagner Moura. It’s even more laughable that the award for Best Original Screenplay goes to Sinners instead of Sentimental Value or Blue Moon.  

These choices are as ridiculous as the Best Picture for The Shape of Water, Best Cinematography for Mank, and Best Editing for Bohemian Rhapsody. Does anyone take the Oscars seriously?

I also don’t like One Battle After Another, the one that won Best Picture (though of course I was relieved it didn’t go to goddamn Sinners). This has been a strong year (especially compared to last year and the year of Everything Everywhere All at Once), but the great films of 2025 are Train Dreams and Sentimental Value; you could also make the case for The Secret Agent, an engrossing film that constantly changes directions and defies our expectations. One Battle After Another is a fun, well-crafted film but it’s essentially empty and forgettable—it doesn’t have the depth or complexity of Paul Thomas Anderson’s best films, Phantom Thread and There Will Be Blood. 

(I suppose I don’t particularly mind that Paul Thomas Anderson won Best Directing for One Battle After Another—it is a well-directed film—it just feels like the voters decided it was time for him to finally get an Oscar after so many nominations, the same way Martin Scorsese made many great films only to win for The Departed). 

I guess it’s on me, to pay attention to the Oscars. What a joke. 

PS: My friend Himadri, who lives in the past and generally doesn’t like today’s films, has just watched and thought highly of Train Dreams. 

PPS: The ceremony was all right. Conan O’Brien was quite a funny host—my favourite part was his joke at the very end, after the last announcement. The worst part was Javier Bardem—now that gave me second-hand embarrassment. 

Wuthering Heights: “who would have thought you were born in one year?”

1/ One trouble with screen adaptations is that you form a mental image of a character because of various actors, only to return to the book and realise that the character is much younger. Mr Collins in Pride and Prejudice for example is only 25. Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility is only 35. So I have been rereading Wuthering Heights, and realised that the characters are younger than I remembered. 

Heathcliff and Catherine grow up together. In the latest (travesty of a) film, they’re portrayed by 28-year-old Jacob Elordi and 35-year-old Margot Robbie, but in the novel, their entire love story is in their teens. That affects the way you see the characters (the same way I feel like people who are harsh on Romeo and Juliet seem to forget that Juliet is only 13 and Romeo is around 16-17). When Catherine dies about halfway through the novel, she’s only 18 and Heathcliff is 19—this makes her waywardness and impetuosity more understandable, but makes his savagery, violence, and vindictiveness more terrifying. Isabella is also 18, several months younger than Catherine, so it’s understandable that she falls for Heathcliff and perversely ignores both her brother, who dearly loves her, and Catherine, who understands Heathcliff better than anyone else does.  

Another intriguing aspect of their age is that Heathcliff runs away at 16—what does he do at that age and how does he make money in those 3 years? 

Now look at other characters. Hindley is only 21 when he loses his wife Frances, and 27 when he dies. Is it not heartbreaking that he becomes self-destructive and drinks himself to death at 27? But another surprise to me, as I reread Wuthering Heights, is that Nelly Dean’s the same age as Hindley, just a few months younger. I now see that Nelly Dean is a judgemental, manipulative, unreliable woman, which I didn’t quite realise when reading the novel the first time years ago; I also realise that she’s only 26 when Catherine dies, and 22-23 when she causes the rift between Catherine and Heathcliff. 

Note too that Nelly Dean is 14 when Mr Earnshaw brings home the boy Heathcliff, and she joins Hindley in hating and bullying the outsider. She’s a servant, but she also grows up with the main characters. 

2/ I don’t know if I’m going to have anything more interesting to say about Wuthering Heights, so for now I’m just going to say that it is an ingenious novel, carefully constructed, with vivid and well-delineated characters. What a mad imagination! Emily is the genius of the family. 

People tend to name Middlemarch as the greatest British novel, but I much prefer Bleak House and Wuthering Heights.