'Wuthering Heights' to 'Othello'

In 2011, a new film version of ‘Wuthering Heights’ was released. Despite my A-Level English teacher asserting that this book was unfilmable, and that no film had ever been able successfully to portray it, here there was another version, coming hot on the heels of the 2009 ITV television miniseries (UK). How can a single book be filmed so many different times, and with such variable quality? What new perspectives could this film possibly bring? In fact, Andrea Arnold’s adaptation had one very striking quality – very different from any previous portrayal, and shining a fresh(-ish!) light on the book. The actor playing Heathcliff, James Howson, was black.

In recent years, the issue of race in fiction (books and film) has gained a new slant. Multiculturalism is now an intrinsic part of most of the western world (I’m speaking in particular about Britain, as that is where I am from), and most of us would balk at any suggestion that people from non-white backgrounds could be barred from any job or occupation. But somehow, even liberal-thinking people don’t always apply this same principal to actors. I can understand this to a point – as a historian, I do think films should strive for accuracy. If a character in a historical film was white, black, asian or whatever, he/she ought if at all possible to be played by an actor of the same ethnicity. Unless a particular artistic point is being made (like having an entirely black cast of ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof), an actor playing King Arthur, for example, should probably be white, perhaps ‘celtic’-looking. Although I suppose he could be Mediterranean, if the production makes the interpretation that he was a Roman. It works the other way, of course. While I very much enjoyed the recent film ‘Argo’, starring Ben Affleck, I do think that the casting of Tony Mendez, who was Hispanic, with a white actor was not properly living up to his memory and the history. Having said this, giving a character, especially a fictional one, an unexpected ethnicity can often add rather than subtract. It can change the way you think about the setting and the characters, adding a new dimension to identity. If producing a book adaptation, this can also help you notice things you didn’t before.

Take the idea of a black Heathcliff. It’s not such an audacious idea. There are several enticing references in the text that suggest that he has dark skin, and certainly does not look English: ‘He is a dark-skinned gipsy in aspect’, ‘a little Lascar, or an American or Spanish castaway’, ‘as dark almost as if it came from the devil’, ‘but where did he come from, the little dark thing?’ He is also described as having black hair, black eyes and a black countenance. None of which definitively means that Heathcliff is black, but it certainly suggests the possibility. Many readers seem to agree that he may be Romany gypsy, but looking at how Emily Brontë describes him, he might come from the Indian subcontinent. And I think it does matter to the plot that Heathcliff is not of the same ethnicity as the people around him. He is the constant outsider, even when he is the owner of the estate, related by blood or marriage to most other characters, and the wealthiest man around. So by casting Heathcliff with an actor who is black makes a lot of sense artistically – a lot more perhaps than the traditional English-looking Laurence Olivier types.

Heathcliff is not the only character in literature to be thus treated. Othello is similarly ‘foreign’, although the outcome is somewhat different. At the beginning of the play, Othello is at the top of his career, unlike Heathcliff who starts out degraded. In the dramatis personae, he is described as ‘OTHELLO, a noble moor, in the service of Venice’. He has just married Desdemona, the daughter of Brabantio, a senator, and is well-respected by the Duke (although admittedly, Brabantio is less than happy that Othello and Desdemona married without his consent). Yet even so, he is still defined by his race. Iago, the villain of the piece driven by jealousy, uses very coarse and racist language to refer to Othello, for example, ‘an old black ram is tupping your white ewe’. Another character, Rodrigo, uses terms like ‘the thick lips’ and ‘the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor’. Othello is rarely referred to by name during the play, but simply as The Moor. Even positive accolades refer to his skin colour, showing that he is considered to be different to the rest: ‘Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.’ In being treated as an outsider, Othello, just like Heathcliff, eventually lives up to the prejudice. Both are driven to violence and jealousy, with tragic consequences.

Othello is similar to Heathcliff is other ways too. Not only are they both defined by being of a different race, but their actual ethnicity is under question. Just as it is unclear whether Heathcliff is black, Indian, Romany etc., critics are divided as to from where Othello is supposed to originate. Today, we usually understand ‘moor’ and ‘moorish’ to refer to North Africa and the Arab Islamic culture that comes from there. We talk about moorish architecture, meaning the ornate and beautiful castles, palaces and mosques of Morocco, Algeria and southern Spain. But the descriptions of Othello don’t always seem to fit in with this, and actors playing him tend to be black rather than middle-eastern in appearance. Again, this is a debate which is entirely open. It is highly likely that the word ‘moor’ in the sixteenth century did not mean what it does today; so too, black as a description of skin colour may not have referred solely to people of sub-Saharan origins. In representations of both Othello and Heathcliff, casting directors can and should use their own interpretations of the texts, as well as the chemistry of the actors, to find the right person for the job. We as viewers should not then be surprised to see portrayals not fitting with our own personal visions.