Like Teabird, I, too, had a passion for"Dark Shadows." I was so taken with it that I wrote novellas based on it for my own entertainment.
I was not so much taken with doom as I was with drama, passion, eerieness, Inverness capes (for heaven's sake), things occult, period costumes and settings, and mysteries. I read everything ever written by Poe and Lovecraft.
I read Wuthering Heights around this time, but did not appreciate it. Teabird got it exactly right for me: it's hard to appreciate a work that has no sympathetic characters. I prefer to have at least one character with whom to sympathize at least some of the time. However, in the interest of this blog, I picked up a copy of WH over the weekend, and shall reread it. Rereading books at different times of one's life is illuminating. While I certainly understood longing when first I read WH, I was then unable to consider the environment as a character, as Teabird says. I do think you have a point, there, Teabird, and an excellent one at that.
I also read Jane Eyre around this time, and that one spoke to me then. I had much less interest in it later in life, however.
Lately, I read a lot of nonfiction, much of it of the true crime genre. There's a lot of trash in this genre, I'm afraid - - anyone who can scrawl a few lines with a blunt Crayola gets published, and, apparently, without benefit of editing. There's an advantage of reading the old works; they were well written. I cannot accept the current trend of writing sentence fragments, using "which" when one means "this," misplacing modifiers, and so on.
But I must warn you, I'm a dyed-in-the-wool curmudgeon.
This is all for now. I really must be off to look for employment - - the gainful kind, that is. The other kind is abundant.