Far from the Madding Crowd

It’s probably some failing of mine; I don’t understand the connection of the title. I mean, yes, the story takes place in a rural setting, but that doesn’t seem to be a factor any character dwells upon. I also don’t understand concluding with an unlofty Biblical quote which seems to me derisive.
But that’s not to say I didn’t love this story. I did.
The story is a bit rife with men who are overwhelmed by youthful beauty. And, at least for me, begs the question: Why is it that so often people, when they have an overwhelming passion for another, will insist on a union, believing that they have enough love for both, as though it were some shortcoming on the other’s part which they imagine themselves capable of compensating for? show more They will beg for the union regardless of denouncements of any reciprocal feeling, and presume they, who love so deeply, would have the hardest part of such a union. They seem to presume that to be showered with compliments, attention, gifts, and affection (as these wooers imagine they can do without resentment for its absence toward themselves) is all the joy and value of love that the loved one could require. Where, in reality, the value of love comes far less from being a recipient of its expression, and far more from it simply and naturally bubbling up from within one’s own heart. To expect someone, let alone the person held above all others as the dearest creature living, to live a life in fear of never being able to conjure that natural wellspring of outpouring joy from their own hearts in any form other than gratitude, is to expect the person you believe worthy of your love to be content as a lifelong miser. If that person could do so, how is it they would be worthy? Oughtn’t that passionate soul to think twice about the inspiration of passion? If it is not the beauty of the soul it likely cannot endure with or without reciprocation.
Trying here, not to give too much away, though perhaps I'm the last to read (or rather, listen to) this 1874 classic; It seems the story progresses beyond this, to the telling of something developed toward harmony and equality, but those final lines give me pause for second thoughts. ([Possible spoiler coming?] Which would be most sad if the author thought to tell me that a beautiful woman can only ever be idolized.)
Speaking of "listening to", I've said it before and will say it again, John Lee is an excellent narrator! show less

This book was given to me last year by a very intuitive SantaThing member and I finally got around to reading it. I have read a lot of the classics, including Tess of the D’Urbervilles which was also written by this author, but never got around to this one. I enjoyed it immensely. Nobody does melodrama like Thomas Hardy and this book is interesting and readable and held my interest throughout. I loved the interaction between Bathsheba and her many and varied suitors. Bathsheba was not really a young woman of her time. She was intelligent, straight-forward and knew her own mind. And her interactions with the shepherd boy during the rise and fall of her fortunes, were funny and warm. Hardy really shines in his colourful and brilliant show more descriptions of the countryside and the people that lived in villages like this fictional village of Wessex. He does not shy away from passion, heartache and inevitable tragedy and paints a very real bucolic atmosphere in his books, which transport the reader into his world. I didn’t realize that I needed this book to restore the magic to my reading experience. It’s been lapsing slowly over many years of reading what are supposed to be the popular fiction books of the present. It was a joy to remember how much I love the classics and the writing of the great and famous novelists in the past. show less

Reading this as my classic of the year, and following on from a Brandon Sanderson work, it really strikes me just how much writing styles have changed over 150 years, and how people just do not write like this anymore.

Without a doubt, the loquacious, digression-laden yet aloof third person omniscient perspective is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. This is by no means a fast paced book, but it is the kind of book where a whole page is spent describing how an old miller eats his toast off the table and he is evocatively likened to a parabolic curve. While there is a heavy sprinkling of misogyny and dated declarative statements, these snippets and asides delivered in the author’s wry, sardonic voice gave me immense delight and show more elicited physical chuckles. This may be my first Thomas Hardy book, but if this is reflective of his usual delivery, then I’m definitely up for more.

The story itself was a bit more middling for me. I had the questionable benefit of reading an edition of the book which came with an introduction and fulsome footnotes, and while these were helpful to contextualise the novel and explain some of the more obscure references, they did spoil some important plot points, and the result was that it was somewhat obvious quite early on where the characters were all going to end up (or maybe love triangles (or quadrilaterals) have become too predictable by this day and age). The character work was generally pretty convincing in my view with each of the suitors shaping into very distinct individuals in the course of the story, though I felt Bathsheba was the weakest - very rarely living up to the headstrong, independent woman she is repeatedly touted to be. The introduction also mentioned how a key theme of Hardy’s work is the power of human folly and coincidence in the course of people’s lives, and I felt this was quite deftly addressed, with moments of genuine frustration at what certain characters were doing or going through, balanced with a certain sympathy for their position.

All in all, I would certainly count Far From the Madding Crowd as a good read - not enough to fall into my favourites of classics, but indubitably a strong reminder as to why such classics deserve to continue appearing on my reading list. show less

Three men are attracted to the same beautiful woman. Naturally there's more to it but if I had to sum it up in a short one line that would be it. With each we get more insight into the woman's character. I could not put this book down. I always wanted to know what was going to happen next. I can see how it made an ideal story to be serialized and offered in pieces. Each would be satisfying, but only up to a point. Spoiler alert, this is a long available classic so I'm going to give away many plot twists. The woman is Bathsheba Everdeen. Her name immediately signaled this is about a beautiful woman would is pulled in many directions. Not a common name, at least from today's perspective.

The first suitor shares a biblical reference, show more Gabriel Oak. His last name signals someone solid. When Gabriel first encounters Bathsheba he's a young shepherd and she's a headstrong independent young girl. He's immediately smitten and awkwardly proposed marriage. She rejects his offer citing her wish that no man ever own her, a theme which modern women will likely have a great deal of respect for but in the era in which she lives, nineteenth century England, it's not a well-respected attitude. While they go their separate ways, his dog's barking attracts her and she rescues him from an accident when he fell asleep as smoke filled his room. Unfortunately there's more problems. A young sheep dog who has not been fully trained pushes his flock over a cliff thinking he was herding them. Gabriel losses his farm. We immediately see Hardy's message of things are never fully what they seem and there will be ups and downs.

Bathsheba on the other hand has good fortune smile on her as she inherits a rich uncle's farm and becomes very prosperous, asserting independence as she is determined to become the mistress who needs no master. But she does need someone to manage the farm and Gabriel reenters the picture as that ever present but retiring man in the background. On a whim she sends a Valentine card to a standoffish neighbor and anonymously sends the message "Marry me". The neighbor, Mr. Boldwood, is an older confirmed bachelor who to that point had barely noticed Bathsheba but is intrigued by the mysterious valentine. He's rich and well established and sees his neighbor as independent and commercially successful. He offers marriage which she rejects saying while she appreciates his offer and recognizes him as a fine man, she just does not love him. He does not take rejection lightly and hopes eventually she might learn to love him. Stay tuned.

A third suitor appears with mixed baggage. While handsome and dashing Sargent Troy appears to be a lady's man who may be of questionable character, unclear. Bathsheba sees his brashness and falls for his standoffish approach. She's smitten and they elope, surprising everyone. She's too good for him is the common reaction. Sargent Troy's past catches up with him in the form of a runaway servant, Franny, who appears at a jail only to die immediately. When Bathsheba learns of the death she, as mistress of the farm, takes responsibility for burying the girl who had been part of her household. This is where things get complex. Troy is distraught, treats Bathsheba roughly and informs her that Franny was the one he loved most. After arranging for a proper monument for Franny in the local cemetery he leaves town and goes for a swim in the Channel, leaving his clothes on the beach. When he doesn't return he is presumed drowned. Bathsheba is distraught and begins mourning.

The rich neighbor sees his opportunity and relentlessly pursues the widow. She eventual agrees that if after six years Sargent Troy does not return she will marry Boldwood and hopefully develop a love for him. At the Christmas party Boldwood is having to announce the agreement, who shows up but Sargent Troy. He roughly demands that Bathsheba come back to him as his wife. This is too much for Boldwood who kills Troy, admits his guilt and summits himself to justice, expecting to be hung.

Bathsheba tuns to Gabriel who has supported her throughout. They marry. Slow and steady win the race.

After reading the book I watched the Blu-ray version of the film featuring Carey Mulligan as Bathsheba. The film stays true to the book but of course leaves a few parts out. They filmed but deleted the scene where Bathsheba rescues Gabriel which omits an important event in their relationship. The mansions featured in the film seem to be more impressive than in the book. I would guess the film makers had an easier time finding mansions from those days rather than less prestigious houses. One aspect totally missing in the film is Sargent Troy's becoming a performer in a traveling show. Without this deceptive piece of his persona he comes across more warmly in the film than the book. The one change I struggle the most with is how they chose to end the film. The film ends with a church wedding while the book had a much quieter civil ceremony. Bathsheba was reluctant about marriage and showing a celebration robs her of that agency. I understand why the filmmakers wanted a happier ending. Hardy's version felt truer to the character. Both book and film are worth your time. show less

This was my introduction to Hardy, and I'm told one of his more cheerful books. The country landscapes and descriptions are breath-taking, the characters vary from well-rounded to convenient. And the story takes us from romanticism to something like maturity, as we wade through melodrama to a mostly satisfying ending.

Hardy gives us an Austen-like heroine with much to learn about romance, an Austen-like cad and a fine earth-bound hero. But he also shows the real and painful consequences of each character's actions, and not everyone comes to a happy end.

Hardy, of course, was a Victorian, but I feel this book is looking forward to a stronger role for women, or maybe back to the realities of strong people of both sexes and the hard labor of show more country life. show less

Sometime last year I saw the 2015 film adaptation of Far From the Madding Crowd. It’s very picturesqueness and told an interesting story - a young single woman managing her own property - but it felt rushed, like it was too abridged.

Reading the book made sense of my reactions to the film. The film is framed as Bathsheba’s story, opening with a voiceover from her. However, the book is only sometimes from Bathsheba’s point of view. Certain things occur off-screen - and the reader is left, along with other main characters, to fill in the gaps ourselves as to exactly what happened. I found this approach made Bathsheba’s choices seem much more convincing.
The book is also very clear about the passage of time. That helps to provide show more needed context - and I was interested by the colourful portrayal of life for this farming community.

I particularly enjoyed Hardy’s descriptions and the amusing way with words some of his characters have. Even though I knew where the story was heading, the way the story was told kept me interested.

I didn’t always enjoy the story of Bathsheba’s multiple suitors, but I appreciated that they’re not thrown in to create artificial tension. Far From the Madding Crowd offers thoughtful, and at times surprising, commentary on courtship, male expectations of women, healthy relationship dynamics, and the consequences of mistakes.
And I found a certain romance even more shippable than I did in the film.

Another one of the best books I’ve read this year. The audiobook, read by Nicholas Guy Smith, is excellent.

[...] said Oak; and turning upon Poorgrass, “as for you, Joseph, who do your wicked deeds in such confoundedly holy ways, you are as drunk as you can stand.”
“No, Shepherd Oak, no! Listen to reason, shepherd. All that's the matter with me is the affliction called a multiplying eye, and that's how it is I look double to you—I mean, you look double to me.”
“A multiplying eye is a very bad thing,” said Mark Clark.
“It always comes on when I have been in a public-house a little time,” said Joseph Poorgrass, meekly. “Yes; I see two of every sort, as if I were some holy man living in the times of King Noah and entering into the ark [...]” show less

When Bathsheba Everdene inherits her uncle's farm, she becomes a prominent citizen of Weatherbury, a village in 19th century England. Her status as an independent woman attracts a lot of attention, but she is confident and capable, managing the farm and her employees with relative ease.
Bathsheba's was an impulsive nature under a deliberative aspect. An Elizabeth in brain and a Mary Stuart in spirit, she often performed actions of the greatest temerity with a manner of extreme discretion.

For much of the day-to-day management she relies on Gabriel Oak, a shepherd who until recently had his own farm. Gabriel is quiet, reliable, and in love with Bathsheba, but she quickly dispenses with any notion of romance between the two of them. Enter show more two more suitors: Boldwood, an older well-established landowner & farmer, and Troy, a rakish soldier with bags of sex appeal. Boldwood makes his intentions known, and Bathsheba toys with him. With Troy, she is unable to keep the upper hand. Matters escalate on both fronts, and I will stop there so as not to spoil the story.

Hardy feared the English countryside was in decline. The rural idyll is front and center in this novel, of equal importance to the characters. The natural setting and the village inhabitants add considerably to the plot, and make up for certain elements that seemed a bit contrived. I also liked Hardy's depiction of a strong woman, unusual for the time period, and his ability to communicate so much about a character in a single, concise sentence, such as "Troy was never more clever than when absolutely at his wits' end."

I felt ambivalent about this book for the first half or so, but by the time I turned the last page I had found much to appreciate. show less