Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Facebook ad: “He’s more myself than I am.”

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“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” The doomed romance pulsing at the center of Emily Brontë’s 1847 novel Wuthering Heights seems destined to recur endlessly through time in readers’ imaginations, just as it ripples across generations in her book. @blackphoenixalchemylab is proud to present this fragrant adaptation created in partnership with @britishlibrary, which has generously granted the use of high-quality media from its vast archives to accompany a Limited Edition collection of 5ml perfume oils. https://blackphoenixalchemylab.com/product-category/wuthering-heights/ These four scents include label artwork from Percy Tarrant’s 1924 illustrations: ✤ CATHERINE “Oh, I’m burning! I wish I were out of doors! I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed? Why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words? I’m sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills. Open the window again wide: fasten it open!” An incandescent amber storm. Strata of glowing ambers piled deep and restless, molten and honeyed, threaded with dark, resinous veins that pulse like blood under skin. Free, wild, elemental: the storm at her heart, beating against the glass until it shatters. Formulated to be layered with HEATHCLIFF, or worn as a standalone scent. ✤ HEATHCLIFF “I have no pity! I have no pity! The more worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething, and I grind with greater energy, in proportion to the increase of pain.” A feral and unrepentant animalic musk slick with heat, tangled with smoked birch tar that clings to skin like soot and desire. Refined cologne masks a deep, grinding base of dark resins, cracked leather, and vetiver root; earth torn open, roots exposed. An elemental fury, a wild, fanatical embrace terribly alive in its darkness. Formulated to be layered with CATHERINE, or worn as a standalone scent. ✤ LET ME IN “The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, ‘Let me in – let me in!’ ‘Who are you?’ I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. ‘Catherine Linton,’ it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) – ‘I’m come home: I’d lost my way on the moor!’ As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child’s face looking through the window.” A ghostly feminine perfume rising from the stiff binding of old diaries. Violet leaf and antique rose curl through the air, smeared with ink. ✤ UNQUIET SLUMBERS “I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.” Under an ambivalent sun that knows neither grief nor passion, the moor exhales over slate and stone. Heather and moss whisper against cold earth, entwined in creeping ivy; a soft lament, an uneasy stirring of agonized longing. Available now in the BPAL shop! #wutheringheights