Cover Catherine, played by Margot Robbie, and Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ represent the ultimate doomed romance in literature (Photo: IMDB)
Catherine, played by Margot Robbie, and Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ represent the ultimate doomed romance in literature (Photo: IMDB)
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If Catherine and Heathcliff set the standard for destructive devotion in ‘Wuthering Heights’, these literary couples prove that longing, obsession and ill-fated love never go out of style
When Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights reaches cinemas on February 13, with Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi at its centre, it will return Emily Brontë’s fevered love story to the big screen. Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff have long unsettled readers: a relationship defined less by tenderness than by possession, defiance and a refusal to exist apart. “I am Heathcliff!” Catherine insists, collapsing the boundary between self and other in a way that feels as radical now as it did in 1847.
What makes this literary couple doomed? Their attachment doesn’t simply end badly; it corrodes everything around it. Critics often describe this pull as an “aesthetic of ruin”—love held at its most absolute because it never survives long enough to soften into compromise. The tension between intensity and self-destruction in Wuthering Heights continues to exert its grip, reminding us that some of literature’s most enduring romances are compelling not in spite of the damage they cause, but because of it.
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Achilles and Patroclus in ‘The Song of Achilles’ by Madeline Miller
Above Achilles and Patroclus in ‘The Song of Achilles’ represent one of literature’s most beautiful but tragic romances (Photo: Ecco)
Achilles and Patroclus in ‘The Song of Achilles’ represent one of literature’s most beautiful but tragic romances (Photo: Ecco)
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Why they’re doomed: Madeline Miller’s lyrical retelling of the Iliad follows legendary Greek hero Achilles and his companion Patroclus from childhood friendship to profound love, but readers know from page one they’ll die at Troy. Their fate is sealed by prophecy and war.
What makes it tragic: The inevitability enhances every moment together. Miller’s emotionally complex prose emphasises that knowing the ending doesn’t diminish their connection—it makes it achingly precious, preserving their bond at its purest and most intense.
Cecilia Tallis and Robbie Turner in ‘Atonement’ by Ian McEwan
Above Cecilia and Robbie’s relationship in ‘Atonement’ is severed by false accusation and war (Photo: Anchor Books)
Cecilia and Robbie’s relationship in ‘Atonement’ is severed by false accusation and war (Photo: Anchor Books)
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Why they’re doomed: Ian McEwan’s wealthy Cecilia and working-class Robbie share one perfect day before 13-year-old Briony’s false accusation sends Robbie to prison, then to Dunkirk, where he dies. Class barriers and war permanently sever them.
What makes it tragic: The climactic revelation that their happy ending exists only in Briony’s fictional atonement—not reality—makes this unbearably heartbreaking. They never reunite, and the reader discovers this truth only at the novel’s end.
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Mateo and Rufus in ‘They Both Die at the End’ by Adam Silvera
Above Mateo and Rufus discover love during their final day in ‘They Both Die at the End’ (Photo: Quill Tree Books)
Mateo and Rufus discover love during their final day in ‘They Both Die at the End’ (Photo: Quill Tree Books)
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Why they’re doomed: Adam Silvera’s contemporary YA novel introduces Death-Cast, which notifies people they’ll die within 24 hours. Strangers Mateo and Rufus meet on their “End Day”, and the title itself announces their fate.
What makes it tragic: Silvera proves that even one day of genuine connection constitutes a complete love story. Their romance demonstrates that temporary doesn’t mean meaningless—the threat of losing love doesn’t outweigh its importance in living fully.
Isaiah and Samuel in ‘The Prophets’ by Robert Jones, Jr
Above Isaiah and Samuel’s relationship in ‘The Prophets’ is an act of defiance and humanity (Photo: GP Putnam’s Sons)
Isaiah and Samuel’s relationship in ‘The Prophets’ is an act of defiance and humanity (Photo: GP Putnam’s Sons)
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Why they’re doomed: Robert Jones Jr’s debut centres on two enslaved men on a Deep South plantation. Their love exists within a system designed to destroy such connections, making their relationship impossible to sustain.
What makes it tragic: Their bond becomes an act of defiance, asserting their humanity amidst inhumane brutality. Jones’s lush prose transforms their inevitably tragic story into something transcendent, showing love’s persistence against impossible odds.
Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster in ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ by John Green
Above Augustus and Hazel find a small infinity together despite terminal illness in ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ (Photo: Penguin Books)
Augustus and Hazel find a small infinity together despite terminal illness in ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ (Photo: Penguin Books)
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Why they’re doomed: John Green’s modern classic follows teenagers, Augustus and Hazel, who meet at a cancer support group, both terminally ill. Hazel calls their time together “our little infinity”—complete but desperately limited.
What makes it tragic: Green established the contemporary template for illness-doomed romance. Their philosophical conversations and Amsterdam journey create profound meaning whilst acknowledging an impossible future, teaching that living in the present matters when tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.
Kathy H and Tommy C in ‘Never Let Me Go’ by Kazuo Ishiguro
Above Kathy and Tommy hope the deferral rumour will grant them more time in ‘Never Let Me Go’ (Photo: Vintage)
Kathy and Tommy hope the deferral rumour will grant them more time in ‘Never Let Me Go’ (Photo: Vintage)
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Why they’re doomed: Kazuo Ishiguro’s clones are raised specifically for organ harvesting. Kathy and Tommy cling to the deferral rumour—that proving genuine love grants extra years—but it’s false hope.
What makes it tragic: The revelation that no deferral exists deepens the tragedy. Ishiguro explores how even those denied futures still yearn and love, making their doomed romance a meditation on what it means to be human.
Maurice Bendrix and Sarah Miles in ‘The End of the Affair’ by Graham Greene
Above Maurice and Sarah’s affair ends after a miraculous survival and religious vow in ’The End of the Affair’ (Photo: World on Fire Classics)
Maurice and Sarah’s affair ends after a miraculous survival and religious vow in ’The End of the Affair’ (Photo: World on Fire Classics)
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Why they’re doomed: Graham Greene’s London Blitz romance ends when Sarah believes Maurice died in a bombing. She vows to God she’ll renounce him if he survives—and cannot break that promise.
What makes it tragic: Unlike other doomed couples separated by death or circumstance, Sarah chooses faith over love. Greene’s exploration of jealousy, guilt and religious devotion creates a uniquely spiritual tragedy where love loses to an unshakeable vow.
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After more than a decade in lifestyle media, Clifford has mastered the art of writing seriously about things that are fun—and writing fun things about people who take themselves very seriously. At Tatler Asia, he helped steer its flagship lists, Tatler’s Most Influential and Asia’s Most Stylish. And today, he leads T-Labs, Tatler Asia’s content innovation hub, where he continues the noble pursuit of lifestyle storytelling, spinning stories on wealth, entertainment, necessary style, Hallyu, Hollywood, beauty and more for audiences across Asia.
