I know next to nothing about Victorian and Regency novels. Austen, the Brontës, Eliot, Dickens, Hardy, all that Englishness. Give me The Hitch-hikers Guide to the Galaxy any day. I know enough to possibly get by in a pub quiz but that's it. I don't care who Heathcliff was.
Hadley Freeman wrote in today's Sunday Times about Wuthering Heights in a manner which led me to wonder what on earth a "wuther" was. Turns out it's not a wuther, it's to wuther.
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines wuther as "to blow with a dull roaring sound". Which pretty much sums up my feelings about Victorian novels.