The Mayor of Casterbridge

Oh Mr. Hardy - canst thou ever forgive me for doubting thee?

The book is finished. My heart is sore. In my grief I can't bear to put it back on the bookshelf yet. Let it stay beside me on the bedside cabinet just a little while longer.

How wrong was I in my original assessment of Hardy's prose. I wept whilst reading this book. WEPT! Real tears! And not just once either.

Hardy initially cut to the chase with alarming alacrity, and it almost put me off continuing as I felt he had divulged the plot before I was engrossed enough to care much for the characters. More fool me. That was merely the tip of the iceberg, for the tale that developed was to have more twists and turns than a doorknob.

And the characterisation - oh, like nothing I've show more read before. Mr. Henchard was the most unpleasant of protagonists - harsh, proud, stubborn, jealous, cold, pompous - yet the whole way through the novel I was rooting for him, willing him on, desperately hoping he'll say the right thing here, do the right thing there. In the same way that my husband's wayward driving compels me to pump an imaginary brake as a passenger, so too Henchard's repeated mistakes had me constantly silently screaming "Stop! Look out! Take care!".

I'm now 5 books into my 50 book target. How I fear the 45 others shall now pale by comparison. show less

One of my favorite books. Perhaps the greatest depiction of the repercussions of untreated alcoholism and the 'dry drunk' I've ever read. The faulty perceptions, the guilt, the grandiosity, the paranoia, the self-centeredness, the lies, the secrets, the horrible collateral damage, it's all here, as only Hardy could write it. I've read the book before, several times, but every time I read it I find a new layer. The depiction of the "Mayor" is heartbreaking, from beginning to end, a true tragedy in the sense he is never able to get out of his own way. It's a book I wish I'd written.

The Mayor of Casterbridge opens with a shocking episode. Tired, bitter, and more than a little drunk, journeyman-laborer Michael Henchard puts his wife Susan and their daughter Elizabeth-Jane up for auction on the fairgrounds of Weydon-Priors. Unexpectedly, a sailor takes the offer, and as Susan is willing, Henchard parts with her for a mere five guineas. The next morning, realizing what he has done, he swears an oath before God to "avoid all strong liquors for the space of twenty-one years to come." Twenty years later, he has become not only the most wealthy and prominent man in the town of Casterbridge, but also its mayor. Yet shadows of his past as well as new acquaintances soon come into his life in the persons of the young Donald show more Farfrae, Susan and Elizabeth-Jane, and the cosmopolitan Lucetta Templeman.

This being my first Hardy novel, I must say that I was very impressed with him as a writer—a presumptuous remark, I know, but while some classics are famous for great stories rather than great craftsmanship, The Mayor of Casterbridge features both. Little touches struck me throughout, such as the fact that upon their reunion, Henchard gives Susan five guineas—almost as though he is atoning for his sale of her twenty years prior! Before he was a writer, Hardy was an architect, which means that his descriptions of the structures in and about Casterbridge are both believable and fascinating. Indeed, one of the novel's most haunting passages occurs when Henchard, having learned a fearful secret, walks out by himself to the ruins of a Franciscan priory, with a mill attached to it and the gallows nearby. I would not be surprised to learn, moreover, that during that period of Hardy's life he was much around "common" folk, because his portrayal of them in this novel seems very convincing. And yet he was also extremely well-educated and well-read, quoting Shakespeare, Greek mythology, scripture, and Sir Walter Scott (who may have been an influence, especially when it comes to the conversations among the working class) with ease.

Albert J. Guerard, who wrote the introduction to my edition, sees the Bible as primary literary parallel to Hardy's book, working off of Henchard's own comment "'Tis as simple as scripture history." There is a sense in which Henchard is a larger-than-life Old Testament figure, but nothing came to mind so much while I was reading as Victor Hugo's Les Misérables. At the beginning of both stories a man commits a terrible deed that will change the course of his life, then repents and tries to live a normal life (and also becomes a mayor!). And yet the outcomes are quite different, for while Valjean is able to overcome his obstacles and extend grace in turn, Henchard ultimately succumbs to the consequences of his "original sin," if you will.

There is a sense in which fate is against Henchard—he himself notes that everything he does, no matter how pure his motives, comes back to cause him some grief—but Hardy also quotes Novalis in saying that "Character is Fate," so Henchard does ruin himself as well. Part of his tragedy is that there are two sides of himself that he cannot reconcile. There is the passionate, arbitrary, almost animal Henchard that we meet at the beginning of the book. And then there is the persona he creates for himself by dint of hard work over twenty years, the "Man of Character" of the subtitle. The issue is that everything he does in this guise is characterized by duty, not grace or love (he marries Susan again because he feels beholden to her, and had planned to do the same for Lucetta when he thought Susan dead). For him, these two qualities can never merge and become one.

Despite Henchard's centrality to the tale, much of it is seen through Elizabeth-Jane's eyes, and it is she who dictates the central concepts of the novel. When she meets Farfrae she is attracted to him because "he seemed to feel exactly as she felt about life and its surroundings—that they were a tragical rather than a comical thing" and later she refrains from dressing too gaily because "it would be tempting Providence to hurl mother and me down, and afflict us again as He used to do." These are the sort of words one would expect to hear from Hardy, whose work has a reputation for bleakness, and yet by the conclusion Elizabeth-Jane has changed her mind a little about these things, as is evident from the novel's final words. It seems to me that Hardy is using her to say that despite the sins of our fathers, so powerfully encapsulated by Henchard, there is hope for the future.

In passing, I must commend Pocket Books for their Enriched Classics edition. Not only does it feature eye-catching and unconventional cover art, but the Reader's Supplement is a splendid companion to the text. As well as specific notes, it features a whole essay regarding the tale's backgrounds, and pictorial examples of some nineteenth-century fashions and architectural features that have since become obsolete.

Though (as my father says) one could not read Hardy back-to-back for the sake of one's good humor, I'm looking forward to trying more of his novels in the future, as well as the ITV adaptation of Mayor. show less

Ho no no nothing serious man he cried with fierce gaiety these things always happen don't they? (215) the relentless descent of Henchard to his doom is both fascinating and increasingly painful as one cannot help but empathise absolutely with this Lear- like character.

My first ever visit to Dorchester prompted me to read my first ever Thomas Hardy novel - very few other writers are so closely associated with a specific town or city; the fictional town in this novel's title is based very closely on Dorset's county town. I loved this novel, and will certainly be reading more Hardy. The plot is simple yet at the same time captivating and timeless. Michael Henchard, an itinerant farm labourer, while drunk one day sells his wife and baby daughter to a sailor at a fair. He wakes up sober and immediately regrets his choice, forswearing alcohol for 21 years and going off to search for them, but it is too late. The ramifications of this moment of madness ring throughout the years and affect Henchard's life show more and those of his family and others. This is a story about fortune's wheel and how it can bring one man up and cast another man down. Marvellous stuff, full of colourful incident and some quirky minor characters. show less

I don't read much Hardy, on the basis that he is too depressing, but I really enjoyed this one, despite it still being fairly sad. Henchard, the Mayor of Casterbridge (for part of the novel at least), is his own worst enemy, but Hardy makes us sympathize with him despite his many and appalling faults - after all, he kept Abel Whittle's poor mother in coals all winter. There were flashes of humour throughout and the description of the constables trying to track down the perpetrators of the 'skimmington ride' was hilarious. The writing was reasonably easy to understand, and the Casterbridge setting (where everyone in the town is more or less co-dependant on everyone else) was strong.

If Thomas Hardy's Wessex region was a real place the British government would probably have to nuke it as nothing but misery seems to go on there, as recounted in [b: Tess of the d'Urbervilles|32261|Tess of the D'Urbervilles|Thomas Hardy|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1358921541s/32261.jpg|3331021], [b: Jude the Obscure|50798|Jude the Obscure|Thomas Hardy|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1389403264s/50798.jpg|41342119], [b: The Return of the Native|32650|The Return of the Native |Thomas Hardy|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1403182613s/32650.jpg|3140534] and other bleak-fests (I am excluding [b: Far from the Madding Crowd|31463|Far from the Madding Crowd |Thomas Hardy|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1388279695s/31463.jpg|914540] here because I show more find it quite cheerful by his melancholic standard (only a few tissue papers required instead of a whole box of Kleenex). The Mayor of Casterbridge is Hardy at least wonderfully mirthless best. A sign reading “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here” would do just as well for the border of Wessex as Dante’s gate of hell.

The Mayor of Casterbridge, subtitled “The Life and Death of a Man of Character” is the story of Michael Henchard the (sometime) eponymous mayor of the town of Casterbridge. A bad tempered man with incredible mood swings who specializes in making very poor decisions. He starts off in fine form with selling his wife and child to an unknown sailor for the bargain basement price of five guineas (better known today as a fiver or GBP 5) while inebriated (pissed out of his mind in fact). After losing his wife for the price of a Big Mac he somehow manages to get his act together and works his way up in the world from a lowly hay-trusser to becoming a successful merchant and the town’s mayor (some suspension of disbelief is required here). After almost twenty years his poor sold wife shows up in town and reconciles with him, all seem to be going well until the fecal matter hits the fan. Seriously if they had electrical fans in Wessex I would stay well away from them as fecal matters would always make a beeline for these things, and spanners are always thrown into the works.

Most of Henchard’s troubles are of his own making but the universe also seems to have it in for him as his bad decisions are always compounded by misfortunes. Henchard is Thomas Hardy’s most interesting protagonist, bad tempered, cynical, violent and pessimistic, yet energetic, well-meaning (sometime), and honorable (usually); but don’t make him angry, you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry. He is often despicable yet oddly sympathetic and I could not help but wish things will work out well for him, but his worst stroke of luck is probably to find himself in a Thomas Hardy novel so that is not going to happen.

This is the fourth Hardy novel I have read and it is definitely my favorite. I am a sucker for tales of redemption or at least contrition and I felt an unmanly lump in throat several times towards the end of this book. Hardy was a master at creating complex and vivid characters, his prose is always a thing of wonder. However, it is always best not to become too attached to his characters as he usually put them all through the grinder and make sausages out of them. In his defence he does not do it out of malice but to illustrate the pitfalls and vicissitudes of life. If only people would be more open and honest with each other, if only they do not let secrets fester in their lives. Henchard’s step daughter Elizabeth-Jane is a good example of this, she survives being in a Hardy novel relatively unscathed* by virtue of her humbleness, honestly and resilience. For example:

“So she viewed with an approach to equanimity the now cancelled days when Donald had been her undeclared lover, and wondered what unwished-for thing Heaven might send her in place of him.”

Attagirl! Likewise Henchard’s unintentional antagonist and rival Donald Farfrae who is always kind and forgiving.

The Mayor of Casterbridge is a beautiful and moving novel in spite of its bleakness. There is always something you can take away from a Hardy novel, usually about your interrelationship with people around you. Now I’m going watch some cartoons…

* Though it was touch and go for a while when she is attacked by a crazed bull (!).
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Audio book credit:
I "read" the free audiobook version from Librivox, beautifully read by Bruce Pirie. Thank you sir! show less