A Madness Most Discrete: Marriage in Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte exposes rules of Victorian culture and its definitions of love: what love should be, what love must be, and most importantly, what love cannot be. The parameters that one’s culture places on marriage seem to vary from time to time, location to location. Bronte gives the modern reader an interesting contrast from his own norms regarding these rules.

Wuthering Heights serves as a social critique of the fact that marriages in Bronte’s day, at least from the reference frame of the well-to-do, were largely games of social stature rather than feelings of love and affection for one’s fiancé. Cathrine I becomes enchanted by the lowly Heathcliff early in the novel, singing his praises about how much their souls are one and so on. However, she decides to marry another, much better-off Edgar Linton to secure her family’s assets and expand her family’s influence. This causes the majority of the novel’s subsequent dramas and episodes, as Heathcliff reaps his revenge on Cathrine I’s extended family in spite. True love could not run its course, as the reader is left to believe, because of pesky economic decisions.

These same social pressures may not exist in the same strength that they may have in Bronte’s day. In my world, the common sentiment is that marriage is a contract of love (or at least passion). Marriage is to be made between those who love each other, and all of the economic pressures will be sorted out after the contract made. Coincidentally  the most highly-cited reason for divorce (common these days) is financial differences. The morals behind marriage, it would seem, have shifted from a world of conflicted rational decision to a world of conflicted passion-driven decision. “Give me that man who is not passion’s slave,” (Hamlet).

Still, in other cultures of the world, marriage is still a social and economic contract between families. Through what augmented lens do these cultures see love? Unfortunately, in order to understand this, I would venture into the world of non-Western literature; this may not happen until I can meaningfully bridge a language barrier or take a world literature class.

At the end of the day, however, I can with confidence remark that the parameters around love definitely do vary from culture to culture. At least here, culture does definitely define morality and our attitudes toward approaching that madness more discrete.

Love is a smoke, raised with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discrete? A choking gall and preserving sweet? -- Romeo and Juliet