Heathcliff

I can never forget Heathcliff. He had a lasting impression on me. How could a person be like that? This creation of Emiy Bronte put my innocent little mind in distress. He was the villain of Wuthering Heights, but I couldn't exactly hate him. The blend of pity, fear, loathing, anger, awe, sympathy, curiosity, wonder left me confused. Heathcliff made me feel uneasy. Sometimes he still does.
The story started with his being tormented and exploited. Then came the cruel revenge. Even the horrors of his past - the deprivation, the humiliation, the betrayal he had suffered - could not justify the treachery and heartlessness of his vengence.
He couldn't really have been devoid of a heart. He loved Catherine deeply. But it seemed that he had a heart only for her. Her loss drove him to insanity. Torturing his wife, tormenting his enfeebled and dieing son, imprisoning Catherine's daughter, annihilating all those who seemed to be responsible for distancing him from his love, even destroying the lives of their children.
Probably if I had read the book later on in life, it wouldn't have had such an effect on me. But as it so happened, I was an innocent young child then, unaware of the terrible shades human nature could acquire.
Heathcliff is a name that is etched in my memory forever.