I wasn't very excited when I found out I had to read Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. The professor I TA for sold it to me as more prose poetry. And after the last two books I had to read for that class (Elizabeth Smart's By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept and Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway), I was dreading another similar book. But thankfully, my fears were laid to rest relatively early on: Wuthering Heights was quite dissimilar to the aforementioned books.
Wuthering Heights tells a bizarre story when all is said and done. Mr. Earnshaw brings a gypsy/orphan boy named Heathcliff home and raises him as his favourite. Heathcliff gains the affection of Mr. Earnshaw's daughter Catherine while gaining the animosity of his son, Hindley. After Mr. Earnshaw passes away, Hindley relegates Heathcliff to the status of a servant, but Catherine remains his friend. But even though she loves him, she decides to accept the marriage proposal of another for a secure future, prompting Heathcliff to seek his fortune and later revenge on those who wronged him (including Catherine's husband for stealing her away).
Unfortunately I felt that Wuthering Heights kind of lost it at the end. The book was good overall, but the ending was just okay. That being said, I still recommend it if you want an excellent tale of love and obsession.