I read Wuthering Heights when I was around 15, and then again last year. It was like it was two completely different books.

Me too! Well, not last year, but rereading it as an adult made a huge difference. The first time around, the POV confused the hell out of me (I couldn't figure out who the narrator was, when the narration was taking place relative to the story, or how many Cathys there were, which naturally made the plot a bit tricky to follow). But when I reread it, years later, and was able to actually follow it, it was wonderful.

Unlike Jane Eyre, which I loved as a young teen and loathed in high school, mostly due to my utter inability to see what I had liked about Jane the first time around. I should probably give it another try and see if I still find Jane a joyless tightass with no sense of fun.

"Wuthering Heights" was weird. I wanted to slap everyone, especially Cathy, but I'm glad I read it so that I could laugh uproariously at a reference on Frasier re: Niles pining after Daphne.

Do you like reading things through a rather unreliable narrator and having to take PoV considerations into your reading as you go along, P-C? WH is great for that.

Oh Jesus Christ yeah. Dude.

Also great for that (and possibly mentioned recently, I can't be sure) is The Good Soldier by Ford Maddox Ford. This is when narrator POV really began to intrigue me.

Ooh. I'll keep it in mind. I love unreliable narrators, like that in the aforementioned Lolita or in one of my favorite books, The Remains of the Day. It's such a fascinating concept.

The only book that I can remember having a huge hate-on for was Great Expectations, but damned if I can remember why past my annoyance at the prose. Anyone else? Help?

I read it in high school and didn't think much of it, but I read it again freshman year of college and really liked it. There are people who just don't like Dickens, though.

Now, there are some plays that I've only read that I can expound on my hatred for, but that's not the gist of this.

I see no reason why you can't. I mentioned Persians. Literature includes plays.

Read Jude the Obscure in high school. Hated it. Ten years later in grad school, read it again. Thought "maybe I was just being an obnoxious high school senior with no patience for work." Nope. Hated it more. Read The Mayor of Casterbridge last semester. Hate-on is definitely for Hardy, not just for Jude. His characters are never sympathetic, his plots are just excuses to beat people up, and his overall message is basically "life sucks", which I knew on my own, thank you.

You're on so much crack, Madame Bovary lover. Okay, so maybe he's a little bleak, but I've always felt like his works were windows into class, gender, and misfortune.

I'd defend him more, but I'd need to re-read everything he's ever written. Which may take time, as I have to find where I shelved him.

My hate-on is for Lolita, because I thought it was nothing but degradation, emptiness, and ugliness pretending to be deep, meaningful, and important. Which may have been the entire point, but that's why I hate it.

A couple more general comments:

If there's an author in the world where I have a thorough understanding of her historical and literary context, it's Jane Austen. Just because I think it's her mastery of the art and craft of writing--of creating compelling, vivid characters set in communities that come to life every time I re-read her books--that makes her works worth reading 200 years later, doesn't mean I couldn't, say, discuss what I perceive as a certain tension in how she treats matters of class. Especially in Persuasion. I never read it without noticing certain themes that strike me as contradictory, and reflecting on what it says about the England of the era, wondering whether Austen herself noticed them while writing and what she meant by them if she did, comparing how other authors handle similar issues, reflecting on the tensions between upward mobility/rising on merit and an aristocracy of birth and how those still exist in our society, etc. Just because I think Austen was first and foremost a brilliant master of the craft of writing who knew how to tell cracking good stories that are simultaneously damn funny and deeply moving doesn't mean I'm sitting around going, "OMG!1!!! DARCY!!!1!! WOOBIE1!!!!"

I had Monte Cristo (abridged) read to me by my father when I was wee (7 or 8?). I think this speaks volumes about my father's psyche, natch. Guess who he seems himself as?

I read Monte Cristo (abridged) in French at age 15. Since that was mora than half my life ago, I had forgotten how it ended. My memory of it is focussed on the neatness and intricacy of the revenges, and their ultimate worthlessness.

I did read Bridget Jones II and recall it being less amusing than Bridget Jones I, which was only amusing as long as I didn't think too hard about it. I beleive I was at the beach during both reads.

Unlike Jane Eyre, which I loved as a young teen and loathed in high school, mostly due to my utter inability to see what I had liked about Jane the first time around. I should probably give it another try and see if I still find Jane a joyless tightass with no sense of fun.

I've read that damn book three times, and my copy is worn out. It was our Academic Decathlon book, and I learned to tolerate it if not love it. It has some merits, and I'm glad I've read it since it comes up a lot, but I don't foresee myself ever picking it up again.

My hate-on is for Lolita, because I thought it was nothing but degradation, emptiness, and ugliness pretending to be deep, meaningful, and important. Which may have been the entire point, but that's why I hate it.

As a fan, I take issue with the word "pretending." But you are allowed your opinion.

To use dangerous language, Jane Eyre is my girl. It's kind of odd, because objectively speaking, she is a success. She got out of a nasty upbringing to a position of conventional respectability, but her own desire for adventure pushes her in strange directions. Yes, she's pretty joyless. I see her as intense and driven. Her resistance to that jerk of a missionary who keeps demanding that she conform to his expectations is my favorite part. She *wants* to be what he expects her to be, but her innate self-respect will not allow her to. The domestication of Mr. Rochester is a bit artificial, but when I first read "Reader, I married him," I got a chill of joy at the sense of reserved triumph and delight in that declaration.

there is a time and a place for most books. Bridget Jones and the beach seem like a great match to me.

Honor was all, and I'm not sure that any audience of the time would put up with the Count suddenly going "My quest is wrong!" and still be able to have any respect for him.

No, I wouldn't want that. But I do think that, were I writing the story (and trying to keep honor in mind), I would have created a situation where say, Young Morrel is in grave danger, and the Count takes on that danger instead, and dies locked in a death-grip on Danglars, or something. You know -- so he accomplishes his revenge, but pays for it too.

I just, I got to the 3/4 mark of the book and was like, what did Villefort's in-laws do to deserve murder? The Count practically suborns their deaths, and certainly does nothing to stop them; and they weren't involved in hurting him AT ALL but they suffer for it anyway. The Count only pauses when Mlle. Villefort is in danger -- and then, only on behalf of Young Morrel -- and when the little boy is killed. He thinks nothing of allowing Danglars's daughter to be humiliated by being affianced to a wanted criminal.

Frankly, in pursuit of his revenge, the Count becomes ten times the monster any of his persecutors are; and the text failed to acknowledge that in a meaningful way. I think his death could have been that acknowledgement.

Hm. Now I have to think about Great Expectations.