Essentially in the story to act as the substitute reader, asking questions and learning the history of Heathcliff, the Earnshaws and the Lintons from Ellen Dean. Rather vain and pompous, he is from a different area of the country and finds it hard to understand the character of the people he meets.
|Parents: unknown. Presumably rich as he can afford to spend a year at Thrushcross Grange with no apparent occupation.||Siblings: none known|
|Date of birth: unknown. Probably between 1770 and 1780. (Both he and Ellen consider it possible that he might woo and marry Cathy. As she is 17 at the time, we might assume that he is no more than about 15 years older than her at most.)||Place of birth: probably in the south, maybe near London|
|Married: no||Children: none|
|Physical description: Lockwood is not described in the novel as he is the narrator. Being rich and coming from the south, maybe near London, he would probably have had the latest fashions and would have stood out quite distinctly from the other characters in the book.|
(1800) You [Lockwood] are too young to rest always contented, living by yourself; and I some way fancy no one could see Catherine Linton and not love her. You smile; but why do you look so lively and interested when I talk about her? and why have you asked me to hang her picture over your fireplace? and why—?'
'Stop, my good friend!' I cried. 'It may be very possible that I should love her; but would she love me? I doubt it too much to venture my tranquillity by running into temptation: and then my home is not here. I'm of the busy world, and to its arms I must return.'
(1801) While enjoying a month of fine weather at the sea-coast, I was thrown into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real goddess in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I 'never told my love' vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed I was over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return—the sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it with shame—shrunk icily into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake, persuaded her mamma to decamp. By this curious turn of disposition I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can appreciate.
(1801) … I knew, through experience, that I was tolerably attractive.
(1802) 'No books!' I exclaimed. 'How do you contrive to live here without them? if I may take the liberty to inquire. Though provided with a large library, I'm frequently very dull at the Grange; take my books away, and I should be desperate!'
(1802) Living among clowns and misanthropists, [Cathy] probably cannot appreciate a better class of people [himself] when she meets them.