I am certainly not the first to observe that writing workshops can sterilize one’s writing. People like to point to Kafka or Woolf or any number of unconventional writers and laugh at the thought of them showing up to a workshop with their manuscripts. The poor workshop comes out, in these portrayals, as never able to appreciate the genius before them.
I couldn’t help but indulge in that same thought as I re-read Wuthering Heights (my last reading was my freshman year of college, roughly eight years ago). What if Emily Bronte had brought this to a writing workshop? Immediately, people would comment on how the bulky narratorial structure leads to some contrived conversations. The first-person narrator, Mr. Lockwood, hears the tale of Wuthering Heights from long-time servant, Nelly Dean, whose own first-person narrative fills most of the book.