“Wuthering Heights” by Sylvia Plath
The horizons ring me like faggots,
Tilted and disparate, and always unstable.
Touched by a match, they might warm me,
And their fine lines singe
The air to orange
Before the distances they pin evaporate,
Weighing the pale sky with a solider color.
But they only dissolve and dissolve
Like a series of promises, as I step forward.
There is no life higher than the grasstops
Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind
Pours by like destiny, bending
Everything in one direction.
I can feel it trying
To funnel my heat away.
If I pay the roots of the heather
Too close attention, they will invite me
To whiten my bones among them.
The sheep know where they are,
Browsing in their dirty wool-clouds,
Gray as the weather.
The black slots of their pupils take me in.
It is like being mailed into space,
A thin, silly message.
They stand about in grandmotherly disguise,
All wig curls and yellow teeth
And hard, marbly baas.
I come to wheel ruts, and water
Limpid as the solitudes
That flee through my fingers.
Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass;
Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves.
Of people and the air only
Remembers a few odd syllables.
It rehearses them moaningly:
Black stone, black stone.
The sky leans on me, me, the one upright
Among all horizontals.
The grass is beating its head distractedly.
It is too delicate
For a life in such company;
Darkness terrifies it.
Now, in valleys narrow
And black as purses, the house lights
Gleam like small change.
Initial Impression:
When I first read “Wuthering Heights,” I can honestly say that I had no idea what Sylvia Plath was trying to say by her poem. This is what I got from “Wuthering Heights:”
It seems like there is a person, alone in a prairie, dreading the rising of the sun. This person seems alone not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Said person seems to have morbid thoughts about her death, how this person would die if he or she fell asleep amongst the flowers. Then, when it turns dark, she is terrified and alone, so alone.
Paraphrase:
The sunrise surrounds me. The environment is so hostile that I could burn up from the heat. Sticks surround me and heat me up. The sky turns orange from the smoke of my fire. The sky is not bright and beautiful, but murky.
The only life around me is sheep and smaller creatures and plants. The wind is blowing in one direction. The wind takes away the brunt of the heat, but it too is hostile. I would rather die than be stuck in the country.
The sheep feel at home in the wilderness with their dirty coats, they blend in with this gray atmosphere of the nature around me. Their eyes captivate me and hold my attention. When I look into their eyes, I forget myself and find an escape from the roughness of nature. The sheep that stand around me remind me of a grandmother: curly hair like wigs and yellow teeth. The environment around me is unwelcoming.
I find some evidence of humanity, wheel tracks and polluted water. I see some houses in the distance, separate from one another; they are falling apart.
I am the only thing standing up with many short things around me. I am too delicate in the wilderness. I am completely at odds with the environment around me. In the distance, I see a few houses, their lights shining gives me little comfort. Those houses won’t affect my immediate environment.
SWIFTT:
Sylvia Plath uses syntax, diction, imagery, figurative language, tone, and theme in the poem, “Wuthering Heights.”
Syntax/Word choice:
The title of the poem was determined because the moors in England are similar to that in Wuthering Heights. There are five stanzas with nine lines each. Plath uses diction that describes nature in an overbearing way.
Imagery:
In the first line, “the horizons ring me like faggots,” the imagery of heat from a campfire is the one thing that the narrator has control of in the wildness of nature.
Figurative language:
There is figurative language in “Wuthering Heights.” “It is being mailed into space” is an example of simile in which humans in general find an escape through some mundane thing.
Tone:
The tone of “Wuthering Heights” is that of loneliness, desperation, and sadness. When Sylvia Plath says “they will invite me to whiten my bones among them,” the narrator shows her anguish at being stuck in the wilderness.
Theme:
Finally, the overlying theme in “Wuthering Heights” is loneliness and desolation.
Conclusion:
After analyzing the poem with the class, I have been able to comprehend Sylvia Plath’s “Wuthering Heights.” Originally, I was not able to make heads or tails of the poem, but now I can interpret its meaning. “Wuthering Heights” is told by a narrator who is at odds with nature in general. She feels that being in nature is not what she is used to; she feels consumed by it. To the narrator, it feels like nature is inviting her to her death. She would rather die than be stuck in nature.
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