It is late summer 1780 and Heathcliff leaves Wuthering Heights after overhearing Catherine say how it would degrade her to marry him. The few possessions he takes with him include an amulet; his only possession other than the rags he wore when found as an urchin in Liverpool. When he wears it, the amulet seems to bring him luck. Heathcliff travels to Liverpool, where he makes his way to India as a deck hand on a ship of the East India Company. On arrival in Madras, Heathcliff finds work, love and wealth, but will his luck last and will he ever be able to put his past behind him? Imagining the short period of Heathcliff’s absence in Emily Brontë’s acclaimed novel, Heathcliff’s Fortune depicts the events which sees him transformed from a rough farm boy to a wealthy gentleman, and relates how he acquired, in India, the great wealth that made enacting his terrible revenge on those who wronged him possible.

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Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. HeathcliffÕs dwelling. ÔWutheringÕ being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones. Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date Ô1500,Õ and the name ÔHareton Earnshaw.Õ I would have made a few comments, and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting the penetralium. One stop brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here Ôthe houseÕ pre-eminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been under-drawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villainous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three gaudily-painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the shade. In an arch under the dresser reposed a huge, liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses.

Readers and critics have been intrigued - and disturbed - by the characters of Wuthering Heights since its publication in 1847. Heathcliff and Catherine, the tormented and enigmatic lovers at the centre of the novel, have justifiably been the focus of critical attention. Yet the novel is peopled with a large cast of idiosyncratic characters, each of whom plays a significant role in the plot. This novel, with its references to physiognomy and monomania, its interest in dreams as revelations of the unconscious mind, and its recognition of the importance of origins in character-formation, reflects important developments in the conception of character and psychology in the nineteenth century.

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Young Tabby Aykroyd has been brought to the dusty mansion of Seldom House to be nursemaid to a foundling boy. He is a savage little creature, but the Yorkshire moors harbor far worse, as Tabby soon discovers. Why do scores of dead maids and masters haunt Seldom House with a jealous devotion that extends beyond the grave? As Tabby struggles to escape the evil forces rising out of the land, she watches her young charge choose a different path. Long before he reaches the old farmhouse of Wuthering Heights, the boy who will become Heathcliff has doomed himself and any who try to befriend him.

This “exciting, unpredictable and impeccably told” novel delves into the secret life of the mysterious Wuthering Heights antihero (Susan Roebuck, author of Joseph Barnaby). It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now. Cathy’s immortal words had far-reaching repercussions. At just seventeen years of age, heartbroken and penniless, Heathcliff left behind all he knew and headed into an unknown future. Three years later, he returned—much improved in manners, appearance, and wealth. But what happened during those years? How did he make his fortune from nothing? And what fate turned him into literature’s most famous antihero? For almost two centuries, these questions have remained unanswered. Until now . . .

Neo-Gothic Narratives defines and theorises what, exactly, qualifies as such a text, what mobilises the employment of the Gothic to speak to our own times, whether nostalgia plays a role and whether there is room for humour besides the sobriety and horror in these narratives across various media. What attracts us to the Gothic that makes us want to resurrect, reinvent, echo it? Why do we let the Gothic redefine us? Why do we let it haunt us? Does it speak to us through intertexuality, self-reflectivity, metafiction, immersion, affect? Are we reclaiming the history of women and other subalterns in the Gothic that had been denied in other forms of history? Are we revisiting the trauma of English colonisation and seeking national identity? Or are we simply tourists who enjoy cruising through the otherworld? The essays in this volume investigate both the readerly experience of Neo-Gothic narratives as well as their writerly pastiche.