You May Be Heathcliff, But Who Is He?

Unlike Oedipus (and myself), Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights creates characters with distinguished identities and motivations stemming from those identities. 

Catherine is confident in her identity. As a child, Catherine exhibits her commanding nature; she takes on the role as the mistress: "In play, she liked exceedingly to act the little mistress; using her hands freely, and commanding her companions" (37). She "acts" the mistress because that is what she wants: to be the mistress of the house. She wants to be in charge, and does so freely; she commands the other children because it is in her nature. In her identity. In the very soul of her being. Her lust for control defines her, and eventually results in her downfall. For example, when she tells Nelly that she intends to marry Edgar, she reveals that she is defying her true desires. Catherine claims, " 'It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him... He's more myself than I am' " (73). She knows that she does not truly belong with Edgar, yet she proceeds to marry him. Heathcliff and she share a soul. And when she states, "He's more myself than I am," she implies that by marrying Edgar, she is not being true to herself. However, she also tells Nelly that one reason to marry Edgar would be to provide for Heathcliff. This reveals her desire to remain in control over as many people as she can. She assumes that Heathcliff will not be able to care for himself, without her around. Her motivation stems from her own selfish desires, which she attempts to cover up with "good" intentions. Like when Isabella tells her that she wants to marry Heathcliff. Catherine "selflessly" spews damning statements about Heathcliff's character, so as to protect Isabella from Heathcliff. In reality, Catherine is trying to prevent Isabella from marrying the person she truly loves. Realizing Catherine's selfishness, Isabella pronounces, " 'You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and desire no one to be loved but yourself' " (93). Catherine, by nature, is motivated by her lust for control, and perhaps the most powerful form of control is love. And that's why she yearns for it so ardently.

Heathcliff, unlike Catherine, is damned from the start. When Mr. Earnshaw brings him home, the other children do not like him. He is the "black sheep" of the family. A gypsy. A fortune teller's son. A thief. The other characters assume that because he is from a foreign land, he automatically will be evil. Heathcliff is almost a self-fulfilling prophecy, in that he becomes what people expect of him. When Mrs. Linton remarks,  " 'A wicked boy, at all events... and quite unfit for a decent house!' " (45) It almost encourages Heathcliff to behave wickedly, which may result from his lack of self-knowledge. Heathcliff, as well as the Earnshaws and Lintons, have only a vague understanding of from where Heathcliff came and what his childhood entailed; without self-knowledge, Heathcliff falls into a cycle of resentment and revenge. Nelly tells him, " 'You are incurable, Heathcliff,' " which suggests that his resentment and inability to accept his own identity prevents him from forgiving others and moving forward in life (46). Heathcliff feels entitled to the privileges given to Catherine and Hindley, but when he doesn't receive them, he becomes vengeful. While pondering how to get revenge on Hindley, Heathcliff claims " 'God won't have the satisfaction that I shall' " (55). This reveals the motivation behind his actions. Revenge. Punishment to those who wronged him. He does not recognize his own faults and involvement in his own misfortunes. He pushes the blame onto others because he cannot accept the blame to be his own. When he holds Nelly and Catherine hostage, Heathcliff claims, " 'You'll force me to pinch the baby, and make it scream, before it moves your charity' " (246). He makes it appear as if his actions are out of his control. As if Nelly is responsible for his behaviors. Heathcliff creates his own identity, but does so based on other's judgments.

In combination, Heathcliff and Catherine unite under a self-destructive relationship. They are counter-dependent on one another to the extent of obsession. Catherine lusts for love while Heathcliff lusts for revenge. And in the end, it is the same: Both seek control over others. And when their power is threatened, they react adversely. Catherine lies and throws tantrums, while Heathcliff plots revenge. Neither can reciprocate because both feel entitled. When Catherine dies, she cannot progress. And neither can Heathcliff. He blames Edgar for her death, but in actuality, he also played a role. Both Catherine and Heathcliff cannot accept their own faults, and their inability to control every aspect of their lives. And it leaves them suspended in a phase of arrested development.

Finding Oedipus Rex--The "Swollen Foot" King

Through Oedipus Rex, Sophocles epitomizes the struggle man faces as he seeks his true identity. Originally, Oedipus thinks he knows his true identity: Son of Polybus (King of Corinth), defeater of the Sphinx, and the "rightful" ruler of Thebes. He is surrounded by glory and triumph. Oedipus has little reason to doubt his actions or decisions. And when infertility and death plagues his people, Oedipus, being the hero, vows to find the cause of the plague and eliminate it. But as the play progresses, and Oedipus is accused of killing the late King of Thebes (Laius), he begins to doubt his identity. He loses his sense of self and becomes narrow minded, defensive, ignorant. And only when he learns his true identity, can he save his people.

That's quite a bit of plot summary, so let's look at this a bit closer.

In this play, Oedipus exhibits three distinct personalities: his distinguished and logical perspective as a hero and powerful leader, his crazed, irrational mindset after talking to Tiresias, and his ultimate enlightened perspective. There is a distinct difference between Oedipus when he knows (or thinks he knows) who he is, and when he is still searching for his identity. The initial and final perspectives, where he "knows" his identity, are pragmatic and decisive. He is compassionate and cares for other's well-being; contrarily, while he searches for his identity, Oedipus is self-absorbed, frantic and disconnected. 

Before Oedipus became King of Thebes, he lived in Corinth, and believed himself to be the son of King Polybus. However, he fled Corinth upon hearing the prophecy, which revealed he would eventually kill his father and marry his mother. So, naturally, he ran away to protect them. He then solved sphinx's riddle, became the ruler of Thebes and saved the people from the sphinx's wrath. By humbly leaving his home to prevent his "father's" imminent demise, and rescuing an entire city from doom, Oedipus creates a mental vision of himself as a hero. And, more than anything, he wants to fulfill this image, so he vows to rid people of plague by finding Laius' killer(s). Oedipus believes he is the hero, which allows him to be decisive and clear in his intentions. 

But then, Oedipus' image of himself becomes muddled when Tiresias reveals he may not be the hero. Tiresias accuses Oedipus of being "the abominable contaminator" to which, Oedipus turns defensive and verbally violent. Oedipus threatens Tiresias for suggesting such absurdities: "So shamelessly set you this story on foot,/ And think, perhaps, you shall go free?" He continues to badger Tiresias with rising agitation and paranoia: "Who prompted you?... Are these inventions Creon's work, or yours?... You and the framer of this plot methinks/ Shall rue your purge for guilt!... When you are gone, you can annoy no more" (13-15). Oedipus resorts to threats and deflections to distract himself from the possibility that he may be a villain. He loses sight of his goal, becomes self-absorbed and more focused on clearing his name, instead of focusing on finding the killer. With this shift in perspective, Oedipus becomes shortsighted, irrational and presumptuous. More than anything, he wants to uphold his hero stature; Oedipus feels entitled to his position as the almighty king and doesn't want to be stripped of his privileges. Once Tiresias leaves, Creon comes to speak with Oedipus. Still in a tizzy, Oedipus proceeds to harass Creon, accusing him of undermining his rule. Despite Creon's attempts to reason with him, Oedipus refuses to listen to him. Creon observes his irrationality and asserts, "arrogance weighs aught/ Apart from reason, you are much astray" (20). Histeria rising, Oedipus' suspicions peak; he claims, "When he who plots against me in the dark/ Comes swiftly on, I must be swift in turn" (22). Like a child, Oedipus cries, "You are a traitor!... I must be ruler.... City, my city!" His childlike diction reveals his immaturity and irrational perspective. Oedipus is unable to reason through the situation; denial causes him to regress to childish methods. Jocasta (his true mother), is the person to calm him down and end his tantrum. She reveals that there is a man who can help figure out the truth: a Shepard who once worked for Laius.

Before speaking to the man, Oedipus feels at ease because he thinks the old man will reaffirm his innocence, thusly, allowing Oedipus to see himself as a hero again, rather than as a villain. So when the old man enters, Oedipus is not so accusatory as with Creon or Tiresias. He merely wants answers. The old man tells Oedipus that Jocasta and Laius are his true parents, but this time, Oedipus doesn't reject his assertion. Devastated, Oedipus realizes, "It is all plain, indeed." With his understanding of his identity, Oedipus regains focus on his initial goal: relieving Thebes of its curse. No longer blinded by fear and arrogance, Oedipus is able to approach the situation unbiasedly and rationally. He demands his own exile, asserting, " 'Tis for your good, not for my own." 

Me, Myself and Identity

I know not who I am,

Nor where I am going.

But in short, I am afraid.

And the ceaseless cycle of self-doubt leaves me paralyzed—

Alone to confront the imminent doom that is tomorrow,

Trapped and unable to overcome these crippling anxieties

Like grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight.

O, to stay hungry and foolish,

That which I have always wished for myself!

The only language I know expresses fewer and fewer of my ripening needs;

The facts which litter my memory grow less substantial.

The figure I see in the looking-glass seems less recognizably myself.

So, where now can I look for reassurance of my identity?

My actions?

My words?

My thoughts?

My failures?

No!

They know me not;

And I know me less.

I’d rather be a Pagan

Suckled in a creed outworn,

So might I have glimpses

Of the image of eternity

Or the throne of the invisible

That would make me less forlorn

Than continue on in this incessant state of unknowing.

Sometimes, the valley—the unending toil of life—is filled with tears

And sometimes, the road is hot with the sun

But I have to keep on.

I have to keep on till my work is done.

And I keep trudging on through the lonely years:

I have to keep on and remember,

All that which we behold

Is full of blessings.

I don’t want comfort.

I want real danger.

I want freedom.

I want goodness.

I want poetry.

I want God.

I want sin.

But I do not want comfort.

So I keep on till my work is done

And rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I beat on, a boat against the current,

Borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Yet, there is time

Between the essence

And the descent.

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

Time for you and time for me,

Where blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions

Which are gone in a moment’s time.

Suspended in the infinite darkness of hesitant action,

Unknowing of what is and what is still to come.

And as if it’s not enough for me

To deal with these daunting tasks and decisions,

Which ultimately lead me to my future

Everyone is constantly prying

Badgering and bombarding me with questions:

“Where are you going?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you want to do?”

I don’t know!

Is it not enough to simply leave it at that?

What do they want from me

And why must they trouble me so?

Do I dare disturb the universe?

There falls the shadow.

Am I going to be a person of heart and humanity,

Or am I going to do whatever seems to be required of me?

Is this the way the world ends—

Not with a bang, but a whimper?

Ah, what a piece of work am I,

How noble in reason,

How infinite in faculties,

How express and admirable in form and moving,

In action how like an angel,

In apprehension how like a god.

But what am I?

Let me have lazy days to seek my deeper motives;

Let me seek deep for where I am a born natural.

Or leave me to drown in the wake of my lost identity.

_________________________________________________________

With increasing consistency, I find myself wondering if I truly know myself or if I know only what I want to know about myself. I started to second-guess my nature, and find myself feeling lost quite frequently. And I wonder if others experience similar identity crises; so I ask, How does identity, or a lack thereof, influence one's actions?