I dislike star ratings and would really give this a 4 ½ if I could. I loved this radical re-imagining of the world of ‘Wuthering Heights’ from the bottom-up viewpoint of a black Heathcliff. Stewart goes with the theory that he’s the illegitimate son of Mr Earnshaw and a slave woman, whose missing years are spent on a journey over the moors to Liverpool, travelling under the alias of ‘William Lee’ to discover the secret of his birth. Think ‘Wide Sargasso Sea’ or Andrea Arnold’s gritty 2011 film – but much bolder and more brutally anti-Romantic. Stewart’s Heathcliff is an embittered lover, angry working-class hero railing against ‘Those Bastards in their Mansions’, racial outcast, scheming malcontent, proud anti-Christ and far more sadistic than in the novel. My sympathies were tested to the limit, but the great achievement of this novel is somehow we never totally lose faith in Heathcliff.
The author also takes inevitable artistic liberties with the text, most of which I was able to wrap my head around. So for example, I’m resolutely of the view that as Heathcliff and Cathy’s love was forged in childhood, it’s physical but definitely asexual (more like a sibling or twin identification). However, I did reluctantly accept - brace yourselves - early flashbacks to Cathy and Heathcliff getting properly physical on the moors, as more in keeping with his persona ‘William Lee’. And of course Cathy only exists now as a haunting memory he speaks to directly throughout the narrative, in beautifully atmospheric passages and phrases that evoke the spirit of the moors just like the original novel. It’s difficult to imagine how any female character could be a match for Cathy, but the writer replaces her with Emily, his hard-as nails partner-in-crime who’s just as spirited, and even more cunning than Heathcliff. I was worried she’d turn out to be the usual insipid female sidekick but Emily is a brand new, vividly drawn character that’s more than a match for him. The way their riotous relationship plays out through both horror and gallows humour, mutual suspicion and support, creates a natural tension and dynamic that propels the story forward.
Above all, Stewart has pulled off the feat of creating a clever hybrid: a dark, compelling page turner that’s also an accomplished piece of literary writing. A kind of rougher, adult version of Leon Garfield’s eighteenth century adventures like ‘Smith’ and ‘Black Jack’, which I so loved as a child. ‘Ill Will’ is also a meticulously researched and enlightening social history of eighteenth century England and the struggles of the powerless. It’s a world of working-class protest against over-mighty masters, press-gangs, highwaymen, cut-throats, religious hypocrites and the great social evil at the heart of Heathcliff’s search for his identity – the slave trade. One of the most horrifying discoveries he makes is a slave master’s ‘journal of sexual congress’ with his slave mother ‘Lilith’– basically a rape-diary, which I’ve since discovered the author based on actual examples in the British Library.
Stewart was a poet before a novelist and it shows: what I loved more than anything was the spare, muscular language, which is so earthy you can hear it squelch. He treats us to many coarse-textured Anglo-Saxonisms but also bright poetic gems, reminiscent of Emily Brontë herself, Ted Hughes and so many other Yorkshire poets. From the start, he seems to create a very distinctive voice for Heathcliff, immersing us in what I call his ‘langscape’, through blunt vocabulary like ‘ligged’,‘flaysome’,‘bray’ and ‘puttock’, but also images of surprising delicacy such as ‘You held onto his lifeless hand, his skin as brittle as a wren’s shell.’
I did miss the transcendent, mystical elements of the original novel but Stewart cleverly transmutes some of them into Heathcliff’s Lucifer-like hatred of the official Church, and he certainly knows his Bible well enough to turn it on them, Caliban-like. He gives him a deliciously diabolical wit in passages like ‘God killed Job’s children and he didn’t even have the guts to do it himself. Instead he got Satan to do it. At least Hindley had the balls to kick me in the face with his own boot.’ But there was one mis-step I found hard to take: Heathcliff’s first brutal killing. Of course we expect sadistic excess from the hero of a Gothic novel – but it’s almost always accompanied either by a kind of perversely attractive dark charisma or fiendish intelligence, even style. I had no problem with the orgy of violence at the end of the novel, but in this earlier episode I felt the exact nature of certain acts he commits tip him over into base animal depravity. These were acts we hear of in war atrocities, and which I felt belonged in a lower grade genre novel, because of the overly explicit description. Ironic, given that Stewart has taken issue with Professor John Sutherland calling Heathcliff a ‘psychopath’ (see his essay ‘Is Heathcliff a Murderer?).
What’s more, in the novel, Heathcliff declares: ‘the more the worms grind, the more I long to crush out their entrails!’ but we never really lose sympathy for him because he mostly punches up, with a sense of righteous anger or ‘moral teething’, as he puts it. Brontë’s image is suggestive of a generalised anger/alienation, rather than petty, sensationalist punishment of a specific individual. Thankfully, most of the time, the author does capture perfectly the original Heathcliff’s malign intentions in lines that leave more to the imagination, like ‘Better to kill a man’s spirit, to crush it entirely, while saving his flesh for the devil’ or ‘I would do what had to be done. I would grab the adder by its tail and snap it like a stick’. Unfortunately, I was so sickened by that scene that for a while, I lost all sympathy, so that when Heathcliff finally meets his nemesis, I almost cheered for the wrong man. Rooting for Heathcliff’s oppressor surely wasn’t the reaction the writer wanted at that point….Thankfully, he was somewhat redeemed when we returned to the frame narrative, helped by a number of strands that were deliberately left open to interpretation.
I was lucky enough to hear the author talk about his novel before I started reading it. And hugely impressed by his compendious knowledge of social and political history, of the Brontë works and biographies, and their literary hinterland and legacy. He’s not just a successful novelist, but a poet, script-writer and lecturer in creative writing who knows this literary landscape inside out. He was also the brainchild behind the 2018 Brontë Stones Project, newly commissioned poetic milestones marking the Brontës’ life-story that begin on his home turf of Thornton, Bradford and end at the Haworth Parsonage. This is also my local landscape, which I know and love. I hear so many Yorkshire writers who are inspired by it say that to truly capture its spirit in writing, you need to walk it the way Emily Brontë did daily, to feel its texture under your feet. So of course, not only did Stewart imagine Mr Earnshaw’s three-day walk over the moors from Haworth to Liverpool to collect his son, he actually attempted the same feat, even managing to write some of the novel on the way! And yet he wears all this learning lightly, coming across as friendly and bloke-ish, the type who’d invite you down the pub for a pint. It’s no wonder when you hear his life story: he’s almost entirely self-taught. In his entertaining introduction to the novel, Stewart disclosed the story of his teenage years as a disaffected school boy who rarely read or studied but got his creative kicks subverting the system. Hence the affinity with Heathcliff?
A final note for any fellow teachers: this would make a great wider reading / book box text / pre-classic preparation for the 19th century novel (ages 13+). When I sat listening rapt to him, I kept thinking how well Stewart would go down with teenage students of all abilities – and how he’d be able to cut through to more reluctant readers and the ‘too cool for school’ crowd. Apparently, there’s talk of ‘Ill Will’ being filmed, and if the screen version is faithful to it, its strong language and content would mean a 15 certificate. So if possible, do get Stewart in as a visiting author, but bear that in mind when pushing the book. I think he'd be ideal for sixth formers studying 'Wuthering Heights' - would really enlighten them on context and different critical interpretations.
A minority of readers have reacted badly to ‘Ill Will’ but for that precise reason, it would also make a perfect reading group choice, and stimulate lively discussion. The only people who wouldn’t enjoy it are Brontë purists with a fixed idea of who Heathcliff is – those who were appalled by Kathryn Hughes’ Guardian article ‘The Strange Cult of Emily and the Hot Mess of Wuthering Heights’. The fiery debate around that showed that every now and again a healthy dose of iconoclasm is a good thing. We need writers like Stewart who dare to blow apart our assumptions, if only to reassess what we truly love in a classic and why.