We keep talking about books on our Friday wish-lists, but I have quite the long musical wish-list, also. The problem with writing about music I'd like to buy, though, is that mp3s are so cheap that it's hard to write about a song and not just go buy it. I mean, 99 cents, what the heck, right?
Unfortunately, my music wish-list is so long that all the 99 centses add up waaay too quickly. I've been trying to find my favorite classics at yard sales (around here you can get old CDs for about $1 each) but too many of my favorites are simply unavailable.
One artist I think I'm going to have to dig into my music budget for is Kate Bush. One of my best friends introduced me to her music when I was in college. Two songs in particular stuck in my memory: Wuthering Heights and Running Up That Hill. (My roommate was particularly fond of Waking the Witch - I remember her playing that one over and over again.)
It took me a while to get used to her style, but once I did I was thoroughly hooked. I've bought a few songs as individual mp3s, but I really want to start building a collection of her albums. Right now my favorite of her songs is probably The Man With The Child In His Eyes. There are so many stories in that song, depending on how I look at it and I like music that makes me think of stories. Kate Bush's music is overflowing with stories. Every time I listen to one of her songs I find myself thinking up a new storyline to fit the lyrics.
Of course, given the topic of this blog, Wuthering Heights is one of the songs I was thinking of as a future topic for a blog post. In all honesty, the book is not one of my favorites, but I liked the song so much that it made me curious to read the novel that inspired it.
"Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy, I've come home now
I'm so cold, let me in in your window
Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy, I've come home now
I'm so cold, let me in in your window
Oh it gets dark, it gets lonely
On the other side from you
I pine alot, I find the lot
Falls through without you
I'm coming back love, cruel Heathcliff
My one dream, my only master
Too long I roam in the night
I'm coming back to his side to put it right
I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering
Wuthering Heights, Kate Bush
"...stretching an arm out to seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little, ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window. Terror made me cruel; and, finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes: still it wailed, 'Let me in!' and maintained its tenacious gripe, almost maddening me with fear. 'How can I!' I said at length. 'Let ME go, if you want me to let you in!' The fingers relaxed, I snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramid against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer. I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, the instant I listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on! 'Begone!' I shouted. 'I'll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years.' 'It is twenty years,' mourned the voice: 'twenty years. I've been a waif for twenty years!'"
Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
Music : Kate Bush
Book: Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte