The persistence of love in the afterlife: Love beyond death

Death is a profound, yet inevitable aspect of the human experience. As the old saying
goes, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Death can evoke a string of emotions, as it is not an easy
situation to go through. These emotions can consist of sorrow, grief, desperation, and
contemplation. Someone’s passing can be a detrimental experience for the loved ones left
behind. Sometimes, we, as humans, cannot accept the fact that this is the circle of life, and
eventually we will all meet our destination, our purpose in life. I personally like to think that
when someone passes away, they met their purpose on this earth and they are going away to a
nicer place, where they can spread their love and magic. It does help me understand that I have a
limited time here, and to not take anything for granted. While it can be a challenging and
sorrowful experience for those left behind, it is also a reminder of the uncertainity of life and the
importance of cherishing our time with our loved ones.

My purpose for this chapter is to highlight the way in which Heathcliff was affected
deeply by Catherine’s death, and how her passing eventually lead to his demise, physically and
psychologically. Due to his wounds created by her absence, Heathcliff has done some
unforgivable acts driven by his grief caused by his lost love. But I find it poetic in some way, the
fact that he never let her go, he never loved someone else and thought about her day and night,
until it consumed him deeply. Of course, not moving on after some time is not healthy for the
human being, but his persistence is what actually brings together the whole plot of the novel.

Following Catherine’s death, Heathcliff is haunted by her memory and is tormented by

his unfulfilled love for her. This is best portrayed in chapter III, when Heathcliff says: “Cathy, do
come. Oh, do – once more! Oh, my heart’s darling, hear me this time, Catherine, at last!”
(Brontë, 2013: 25). This is the moment when Heathcliff learns that Lockwood has had an
interaction with the possible ghost of Catherine, and Heathcliff seems devastated at the thought
that she did not reveal herself to him, instead of his guest for the night: “Heathcliff gradually fell
back into the shelter of the bed as I spoke, finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I
guessed, however, by his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an
excess of violent emotion.” (Brontë, 2013: 24).

This character that Emily Brontë has managed to put together is a well – made depiction
of how sorrow can turn a person into a vengeful creature, driven by the hunger to destroy
everything that caused them suffering. Heathcliff’s character takes a dark turn once he realizes
that he has nothing to lose, but a lot to gain. He was wronged by both the Lintons and the
Earnshaws, so he decides to take matters into his own hands, and eventually return the
unpleasant mistreatment.

“Her brow smooth, her lids closed, her lips wearing the expression of a smile; no angel in
heaven could be more beautiful than she appeared, and I partook of the infinite calm in which
she lay.” (Brontë, 2013: 139). Catherine seemed so peaceful, yet nothing about her death was
peaceful or harmonious. Edgar was suffering, Heathcliff was suffering as well, and it is obvious
from the descriptions the author provides that her death left a big whole behind, not necessarily
easy to fill. The saddest thing about the whole situation is that she never got to meet her
daughter, and no one seemed to be excited about a new baby in the house, due to the separation
that took place: “An unwelcomed infant it was, poor thing! It might have wailed out of life, and
nobody cared a morsel, during those first hours of existence. We redeemed the neglect
afterwards, but its beginning was as friendless as its end is likely to be.” (Brontë, 2013: 138).

I find it necessary to make a comparison. How did Heathcliff react to the news of
Catherine’s death? But how did Edgar react, newly widowed and with a brand new baby? Is
suffering even comparable? Can someone suffer more than the other? I should say no – grief is
not gradable. My version of grief and someone else’s version might differ, but they are still signs
of devastation. That being said, I want to bring light upon these two men, different to the core,
who loved Catherine in their own unique way, and whom they both lost.

Edgar was described as a gentle character, the exact opposite of Heathcliff. He did not go
on a rampage once he learned of his wife’s death. He is depicted as sensitive and caring, and he
truly loved Catherine. His emotions let the reader understand that he grieved deeply for her, but
he had no time to sit and weep, because he was left to raise their child, and he succeeded to raise
a gentle girl, just like himself. He actually wanted to protect their daughter, also named
Catherine, from the turbulent and destructive influences of Wuthering Heights. But him
becoming a widower took a huge toll on his health: “Edgar Linton had his head laid on the
pillow, and his eyes shut. His young and fair features were almost as deathlike as those of the
form beside him, and almost as fixed, but his was the hush of exhausted anguish,”(Brontë, 2013:
138). It is almost immediate that his sadness is shown on his face, and he is never truly happy
ever again. Despite his refined nature, he is a very vulnerable man, and it is notable that he is not
afraid to show his emotions to those who want to look beyond the wealthy gentleman. I believe
that he is brought up by Brontë in order to serve as the antithesis of Heathcliff – the light and the
dark, the opposites attracted to the same person, who also proves her duality. A great example of
the antithesis I am talking about can be seen at Catherine’s vigil: Edgar sits by her coffin day and
night, guarding her. Heathcliff, on the other hand, does the same thing, but from outside. This is
just another moment in which the author reflects how Edgar is always an insider, and Heathcliff
the outsider: “Linton spent his days and nights there, a sleepless guardian, and – a circumstance
concealed from all but me – Heathcliff spent his nights, at least, outside, equally a stranger to
repose.” (Brontë, 2013: 141).

Heathcliff, on the other hand, is a different breed when it comes to the way he chose to
cope with Catherine’s death. He is destroyed, more than her own husband, his heart shattered
into a million tiny pieces. In my opinion, he was not as mature as Edgar was, or in other words,
Edgar did not have the priviledge to sit and cry, because he had a child to care for. Heathcliff
became ruthless, and suddenly, nothing mattered to him. His piece of light was struck down the
moment he learned of his darling’s passing, and he lived in total chaos ever since. He did not
comprehend how he could live in a world in which Catherine does not exist: “Oh God, it is
unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!” (Brontë, 2013: 141).
Nelly describes the moment when she informs him of the unfortunate event as savagery, and says
that he looked more a beast than a man. He hits his head on the tree next to him, and he also
punches it, until splashes of blood are seen. This seemingly gruesome act defines Heathcliff as a
whole: he cannot contain himself when in crisis. When he finally manages to enter the room
where Catherine’s coffin is placed, unnoticed, he does a shocking act once again. He took out
Edgar’s lock of hair from Catherine’s locket, and replaced it with his own. Nelly found Edgar’s
lock on the floor, and considered the best way to handle things was to interwine the two locks of
hair and place them inside the locket, so Catherine can have them both next to her heart, even in
her afterlife. This was an interesting choice, and I saw it as his way to insert himself in any way
possible into her life, even when she is dead. It is a proof of Heathcliff’s vengeful nature, as he is
satisfied when he destroys something that represents the bond between Catherine and Edgar.

Heathcliff’s obsession with the afterlife is obvious. He wants to be reunited with his
loved one and goes to extreme lengths to make sure that it will eventually happen, such as
digging up Catherine’s grave and removing one piece of wood from her coffin so he can have a
look at her face. He desires a connection that goes beyond the physical separation imposed by
death. His actions are with no doubt driven by his desire to reunite with Catherine, but this
loyalty, this obsession he grows transcends the boundaries of social norms and basic respect for
the dead. “Were you not ashamed to disturb the dead? / I disturbed nobody, Nelly, and I gave
some ease to myself. I shall be a great deal more comfortable now, and you’ll have a better
chance of keeping me underground when I get there.” (Brontë, 2013: 241). This man does not
feel one ounce of remorse for doing this gruesome act. He is joyful, ecstatic even. This shows the
lengths that he will take just so he sees her one more time, to have a somewhat peaceful
existence until they meet in the afterlife.

Grief is actually love’s reminder. It is evidence of our true feelings. Grief is the
acquittance we have that says: Look! I am capable of love, here is my proof that I paid the price.
Grief is love with nowhere to go. It is emptiness; it is proof that love stays even when the
beloved doesn’t. It is eventually the final act of love. Naturally, one should feel the pain until he
or she is at ease. Otherwise it will haunt them forever.

The portrayal of death can differ significantly, depending on the author’s perspective. In
my opinion, Emily Brontë manages to portray death in a way that it can make the reader feel like
the person who has passed is having a peaceful sleep or rest, especially because I feel like the
intention in Catherine’s death scene was to convey a sense of release from suffering. Not only
once does the author imply that Catherine and Heathcliff will eventually meet again in the
afterlife, exploring the moors together and finally having the liberty to love one another. After
all, this is Heathcliff’s main point in the second half of the novel: “I’ll have her in my arms
again!If she be cold, I’ll think it is this north wind that chills me, and if she be motionless, it is
sleep.” (Brontë, 2013: 241).
 I want to include a bit of information I gathered from the book “The Handbook of the
Gothic” by Marie Mulvey – Roberts. She discusses, alongside other auhors, different topics
regarding Gothic elements, and even famous Gothic novelists. There is a chapter in this book
about the experience of death,and this is what she had to say about it: “Thus, even as Gothic tales
render death extraordinary, they also refer to the basic fact of mortal existence, namely that the
one certainty we have in life is that we must die.” (Mulvey – Roberts: 2009: 114). What I think
about this quote is that no matter how much literature wants to make death artistic, at the end of
the day, we are still human and one cannot defy the ultimate act, death. It is in our nature to live
and to eventually die: “These stories fascinate with chilling horror, because they allow us to
indirectly confront our own death, even though on the surface they appear to revolve around the
death of the other. We experience death by proxy, for it occurs at someone else's body and at
another site, as a narrative or visual image.” (Mulvey – Roberts: 2009: 114).

If throughout the novel there is a certain distinction between who is superior and who is
inferior, in death there is only one conclusion – everyone becomes equal. Everyone who passes
the bridge towards the spiritual life has just one simple path to follow. I do not believe there are
so many distinctions like there are on the day to day life, and the judgement, as we all probably
accept, comes from God only. But I do not think that death should be seen as a permanent
goodbye; here, I agree with Heathcliff. There is nothing wrong with wishing to be reunited with
the one you have lost, but it is wrong to do all the things Heathcliff did until his time has come. I
see death neither as a grand finale or an never – ending mourning, but rather as a subtle
resolution to the human existence. What I found beautiful in the novel is this simple quote from
Nelly, after Catherine’s death occurs, and she wonders if people are happy or not in the other
side: “Do you believe such people are happy in the other world, sir? I’d give a great deal to
know.” (Brontë, 2013: 139). It is quite mysterious to think if there is actually something on the
other side or if it is just a pretty lie we humans tend to tell ourselves to make us fell better.