A horrific, unsettling, mysterious and perversely thrilling image haunts any thoughts I currently have of Wuthering Heights. A ghastly image of a gentleman, moved by terror to cruelty, bloodstained bed-sheets and the ghostly appearance of the face of a child at a window. Coming, as it does, in the opening stages of the novel, this image and remembrance of it, changed the way I read every succeeding word. It is surprising how little critical work I can find on the subject of this scene, being as it is, I think, very much key to the creation of the oft commented upon 'power' in the novel. Camille Paglia dedicates some thought to it in her Sexual Personae. She argues that 'we, as much as Lockwood are raped and lose our innocence here' (Paglia Sexual Personae p. 452), and I must confess I did feel somewhat violated the first time I...