Far from the Madding Crowd

After reading many contemporary novels, Clock Dance the most recent,
it is so good to be in the hands of a master again!

Everything - plot, character, moods, tone, point of view, and so gloriously, the settings - is finely tuned and precisely and beautifully delivered.

The only development that, to me, never got fully resolved was Boldwood (now, there's a name to live up to!) capitulating so quickly to Falling In Love.
It would have seemed more in tune with his character to stay distant for a little longer until he could comprehend the nature of both his own
feelings and Bathsheba's responses.

Hard to read how gentle Gabirel Oak was with the newborn lambs, then killing the pets to eat.

Far From The Madding Crowd certainly stands as a show more testimonial for caution equally to lovers of both sexes for Love at First Sight! show less

There are a few classic writers who had a gift for seeing through the cultural norms of their own times and captured people's humanity without judgement. Thomas Hardy is one of those writers. In this story of three suitors vying for the affection of Bathsheba Everdene, he shines a light into the different dynamics that can exist in romantic relationships and asks us, "what does a good relationship actually look like?" This is an uncommon love story which feels relevant and modern in spite of being written 150 years ago.

Thomas Hardy is one of those authors whose works I do enjoy — but grudgingly. His strong descriptive powers, well-written characters, and interesting plots are all points in his favor. But there is something dark running in the vein below, a grimness that I find disturbing. As the back of this audiobook copy of Far From The Madding Crowd would have it, Hardy's sense of inevitable human tragedy was already manifesting itself in this tale.

Far From The Madding Crowd tells the story of Bathsheba Everdene, a beautiful and independent young woman who is sought by three very different suitors. Gabriel Oak is the first man to fall in love with her, and after her rejection he falls upon hard times and is forced to seek work as a shepherd. Of show more course it is Bathsheba who eventually hires him. Her second suitor is one Farmer Boldwood, a moody and passionate man who is awakened to Bathsheba's charms by a foolish Valentine's Day card she sends him, quite in jest. And the third is a dashing officer, Sergeant Francis Troy, who is as captivating and handsome as he is selfish.

Hardy really takes the time to set up his characters, and they are all very well written. Bathsheba in particular is a fascinating creation. In some ways she is quite a little feminist, having no inducement to the marriage state in the abstract that would tempt her to seize the chance when it is offered her. And after she catches her bailiff stealing, Bathsheba is determined to run her inherited farm herself — an unprecedented act for a woman in that time. But Hardy was something of a misogynist, and often peppers his narrative with derogatory comments about the female sex. One such example is this:

"'It was not exactly the fault of the hut,' she observed in a tone which showed her to be that novelty among women — one who finished a thought before beginning the sentence which was to convey it."

Or this:

"When women are in a freakish mood, their usual intuition, either from carelessness or inherent defect, seemingly fails to teach them this, and hence it was that Bathsheba was fated to be astonished today."

Everything sensible and strong and intelligent about Bathsheba — and she is all of these things, despite her many faults — is presented as an aberration in her sex. I don't like to judge works by the standards of a different time, but I certainly was occasionally annoyed with this misogyny. Other times, once I understood Hardy was like that, it amused more than offended me.

Hardy's deep cynicism is not just directed toward women. God comes in for a fair share of the blame; Boldwood's disastrous encounters with Troy are called "Heaven's persistent irony" toward him. It is the gargoyles on the church, monstrosities sanctioned by religion, that are responsible for the horrific accident that disfigures Fanny's grave. Because of this mutilation, Troy's half-formed good resolutions produced by Fanny's death are instantly dashed, and the fault laid at Heaven's door:

"To turn about would have been hard enough under the greatest providential encouragement; but to find that Providence, far from helping him into a new course, or showing any wish that he might adopt one, actually jeered his first trembling and critical attempt in that kind, was more than nature could bear."

Apparently it is God's fault for not preventing this accident from occurring, for not helping this near-penitent on his new road. Indeed, it is almost as if God wants Troy to be damned and takes active steps to ensure that it is so. This is classic Hardy.

And yet religion is not portrayed in a uniformly bad light; Gabriel is observed by Bathsheba in the very act of kneeling in prayer, in direct contrast to her agitated and rebellious frame of mind. The reader is left with the idea that this bedtime prayer is a ritual of Gabriel's, and that it has a not inconsiderable share in helping him face his troubles calmly and with dignity. The focus here is on the man, however, and not the God to whom he is praying.

From the first Hardy sets up his characters on a large stage, not so much in their provincial surroundings but by the literary references he uses to describe them. When Gabriel Oak first sees Bathsheba from a distance, he is pictured as "Milton's Satan" watching Eve from a bird's-eye view. When Bathsheba arouses Boldwood's interest, he is compared to Adam awakening from his sleep to behold Eve. Frank Troy is called a "juggler of Satan" by Boldwood, who is then described as "an unhappy Shade in the Mournful Fields by Acheron." Other literary references abound, especially when Hardy describes Gabriel's slow intellectual development and the titles he studies (among them Paradise Lost, Pilgrim's Progress, and Robinson Crusoe). The reader is given to understand that these few titles have a profound effect on Oak and change him from the morally pliable man of the opening chapters to something of a solid rock, dependable and upright in all he does.

Despite the darker themes, Hardy is not all doom and gloom. His sense of humor is most often displayed in the rustic country folk of Wessex, whose mannerisms and foibles are treated with fond indulgence. One character, Joseph Poorgrass, suffers from what he calls "the multiplying eye" — a condition that only assails him in taverns when he's had a bit too much to drink. The relationships among these country folk are also portrayed in a comical light; one instance is the way the worthies of the village try to calm the affronted maltster by agreeing he is the oldest man they know. Young Cainy Ball's breathless recital of what he had seen in Bath is a small masterpiece of comedy, as he chokes and sprays his listeners with crumbs, and is remonstrated for his careless breathing and eating habits. Hilarious!

"'Now, Cainy!' said Gabriel, sternly. 'How many more times must I tell you to keep from running so fast when you be eating? You'll choke yourself some day, that's what you'll do, Cain Ball.'
'Hok-hok-hok!' replied Cain. 'A crumb of my victuals went the wrong way — hok-hok!, That's what 'tis, Mister Oak! And I've been visiting to Bath because I had a felon on my thumb; yes, and I've seen — ahok-hok!'"

In addition to the funny parts, there are some insightful and deftly written passages, like these:

"The suddenness was probably more apparent than real. A coral reef which just comes short of the ocean surface is no more to the horizon than if it had never been begun, and the mere finishing stroke is what often appears to create an event which has long been potentially an accomplished thing."

"A man's body is as the shell; or the tablet, of his soul, as he is reserved or ingenuous, overflowing or self-contained. There was a change in Boldwood's exterior from its former impassibleness; and his faceshowed that he was now living outside his defences for the first time, and with a fearful sense of exposure. It is the usual experience of strong natures when they love."

I listened to this on audiobook published by Tantor Media and read by John Lee. I very much enjoyed his narration, though I did find the lengthy descriptions of nature to drag a bit. Lee's character voices are excellent, with the exception of the female characters; a deep-voiced man just can't create a believably feminine voice.

I don't think I will ever enthusiastically recommend Hardy; he isn't an author whose works can really be loved, at least not by me. But they do have a quality about them that invites contemplation, mainly of the flaws of humankind and the apparently indifferent God reigning over the chaos we make of our lives. It's a different perspective for me, and one that I find deeply unattractive — and yet fascinating, in a grim sort of way. Hardy will never be a comfort read for me, but he does provoke thought, if not exactly admiration. show less

I was pretty head-over-heels for this book after the first page but by the time our heroine Bathsheba Everdene appeared, my love was sealed. (How fabulous is that name?!)

Of this book, Virginia Woolf said: "The subject was right; the method was right; the poet and the countryman, the sensual man, the somber reflective man, the man of learning, all enlisted to produce a book which, however fashions may chop and change, must hold its place among the great English novels." Amen, sister. There's a vaguely soap opera feel to the story, with the mix of rural drama (honestly, I had no idea there were so many ways sheep could die!) and a love pentagon (two women, three men) and yet, this isn't some fluffy pastoral farce.

The setting is described show more with poetic loveliness, but as we see with Farmer Oak's constantly imperiled sheep, rural life is hardly peaceful and bucolic. At times, it is nearly savage, and pretty, clever, fiery, passionate Bathsheba seems to be the personification of the lovely-yet-wild (and fickle!) landscape. She captivates, frightens, and mystifies the men around her, and despite her sometimes over-the-top emotional fits, she manages her own farm and her own courtships with savvy determination.

Still, the romance in this book is hardly romantic: even the passionate points feel a bit grim, as we and the characters understand the implications of each overture and pass. Someone will be hurt, someone else buoyed, and one night makes all the difference in a life. (Same goes for sheep. Go to sleep, sheep alive; wake up, sheep dead. It's crazy.)

There's also some comedy in the rustic townfolk and farm hands, but honestly, I sort of tuned them out. I was more keen on Bathsheba and her relationships with the men in her life. At times, I felt like Hardy painted her a little garishly, as if to punish her for being so fabulous and feisty, but I also appreciated the cracks in her armor. She was a woman I could relate to and if I had read her as a teen, I would have been all about channeling my inner Bathsheba Everdene. As it is, I'm ready for a reread already, so I can sit back and savor Hardy's storytelling. 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

I don't know what it was with this Hardy, especially as so many people give it a 5 star rating, but I felt like I was really labouring through the first half of it. It seemed to take so long for the scene setting of the three suitors before the story really got going, and compared with other Hardy novels I've loved I wasn't feeling the characters for the first 150 pages or so.

Once it finally got into its stride it was standard Hardy gold - drama, tragedy, wonderful characterisation. I just wish it hadn't taken quite so long to pull me in.