Emily Brontë was kind of a recluse, which probably explains why her only novel feels less like a book and more like a fever dream trapped in a storm. When you look at symbols in Wuthering Heights, you aren't just looking at literary devices. You’re looking at the raw, jagged edges of a woman’s psyche reflected in the Yorkshire moors. It’s messy. It’s violent.
Most people think of this as a romance. It isn't. Not really. It’s a ghost story about obsession, and the symbols are the breadcrumbs Brontë leaves behind to show us just how lost these characters are.
The Windows: More Than Just Glass and Wood
If you pay attention, windows are everywhere. They aren't just for looking at the rain. They are boundaries. They represent the thin, fragile line between being inside (civilization, safety, misery) and being outside (nature, freedom, Heathcliff).
Think about that terrifying opening. Lockwood is staying at the Heights, and a branch is scratching at the glass. Or so he thinks. He breaks the pane to stop the noise, and instead of a branch, he finds the ice-cold hand of Catherine Linton’s ghost. She’s been wandering for twenty years. She’s begging to be let in.
This is huge. The window is the barrier between the living and the dead. Later, we see Heathcliff literally begging for that same window to open so he can join her. He dies with the window swinging wide, the rain soaking his bed. He finally crossed over. It’s a literal and metaphorical breakthrough. Honestly, the window is the most honest character in the whole book because it shows us that no one in this story actually belongs where they are.
Thruscross Grange vs. Wuthering Heights
You can’t talk about symbols in Wuthering Heights without talking about the two houses. They are total opposites.
Wuthering Heights is all wind, stone, and dogs that bite. It’s "wuthering"—a local word for atmospheric tumult. It represents the stormy, primal side of human nature. Then you have Thrushcross Grange down in the valley. It’s all gold, crimson carpets, and mirrors. It’s supposed to be "civilized."
But here’s the thing: the Grange is also a cage. When Catherine first stays there after being bitten by the Skulker (the Lintons' dog), she is essentially "tamed." She trades her wildness for silk dresses. Brontë uses the Grange to symbolize the stifling expectations of the Victorian era. It’s pretty, but it’s weak. The Heights is ugly, but it’s real.
The movement between these two houses drives the entire plot. It’s a tug-of-war between the "Calm" and the "Storm." Catherine thinks she can have both. She’s wrong. You can’t live in a valley and a mountaintop at the same time.
Those Damned Dogs
Dogs in this book are never just pets. They are symbols of the characters' internal savagery. When Lockwood first enters Wuthering Heights, he’s attacked by a "brood of grim-shaggy house-dogs." They aren't welcoming. They reflect Heathcliff’s own hostility toward the world.
Later, there’s that horrific moment with Hareton and the litter of puppies, or the time Isabella’s dog is found hanging from a hook. It’s grim. Brontë uses dogs to show how domesticity can be curdled into violence. If the humans are acting like animals, the animals are there to prove it. It’s sort of a warning: in this world, if you aren't the predator, you’re the prey.
The Moors: A Lawless Landscape
The moors are the heart of everything. They aren't farmed. They aren't owned, really, even if there are deeds involved. They represent a space where the rules of society don't apply.
For Catherine and Heathcliff, the moors are their church. It’s the only place they can be "one soul." Catherine famously says, "I am Heathcliff." She doesn’t say she loves him. She says she is him. That kind of identity-melting connection can only happen out on the moors, away from the gossip of servants and the judgment of husbands.
But the moors are also dangerous. People get lost in them. They sink into bogs. This is Brontë’s way of saying that total freedom—the kind Heathcliff wants—is synonymous with death. You can’t be that wild and stay alive.
The Hair in the Locket
This is a small detail that a lot of people miss, but it’s a powerhouse of a symbol. When Catherine dies, she’s wearing a locket with a lock of Edgar’s hair (her husband). Heathcliff sneaks in, dumps Edgar’s hair out, and replaces it with his own.
Nelly Dean, the narrator who is honestly a bit of a meddler, finds it. She doesn't put Edgar’s hair back. She twists the two locks together.
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This is the whole book in a nutshell. Catherine is literally caught between two men, even in her coffin. The intertwined hair symbolizes the messiness of her heart. She couldn't choose in life, so she’s forced to carry both of them into the ground. It’s dark, romantic, and totally messed up.
Misconceptions About Brontë’s Imagery
A lot of students think the "ghost" at the beginning is just a dream. It’s not. In the world of Wuthering Heights, the supernatural is a literal force. Brontë wasn't writing a "kinda spooky" book; she was writing a world where the veil between life and death is paper-thin.
Another mistake? Thinking Heathcliff is a hero. He’s not. He’s a "ghoul" and an "vampire," according to some characters. The symbols of fire and brimstone associated with him aren't there to make him look cool; they’re there to show he’s a destructive force of nature. He’s the fire that burns the house down while everyone is sleeping.
Why This Matters Today
We still talk about these symbols because they tap into things we’re still scared of. The fear of not belonging. The fear that our "civilized" selves are just a mask for something more feral. Brontë knew that humans are messy.
If you’re trying to really "get" the book, stop looking at the plot. The plot is just a soap opera. Look at the ghosts. Look at the weather. Look at the way the names "Catherine Earnshaw," "Catherine Linton," and "Catherine Heathcliff" are scratched into the wood of a bed. Those names are a symbol of a lost identity, a woman trying to figure out who she is in a world that wants to tell her who to be.
How to Analyze These Symbols Like a Pro
If you're writing a paper or just want to sound smart at a book club, don't just list symbols. Connect them.
- Look for patterns of crossing over. Who jumps through a window? Who gets locked behind a door? (Looking at you, Isabella).
- Track the weather. If it’s snowing, someone is about to lose their mind or their life.
- Watch the hands. From the ghost’s icy hand to Heathcliff’s "calloused" hands, touch is a huge indicator of social class and emotional state.
To truly understand the symbols in Wuthering Heights, you have to stop reading with your head and start reading with your gut. Brontë wrote from her soul, and she expected you to meet her there.
Take the next step in your literary journey:
- Re-read the first three chapters. Focus specifically on the descriptions of the furniture and the layout of the house. Notice how the physical space reflects Heathcliff's internal chaos.
- Map the character movements. Draw a simple diagram of the Grange and the Heights. Track how many times Catherine moves between them and what she loses each time she travels.
- Compare the two Catherines. Look at the symbols surrounding the mother versus the daughter. The daughter (Cathy) also deals with windows and books, but her story ends differently. Ask yourself why the symbols of the "Storm" don't destroy her the way they destroyed her mother.