Our December selection is Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, a classic novel recently back in the public eye due to the film starring Carey Mulligan. The novel, originally published anonymously as a serial in 1874, is the story of proud and independent Bathsheba Everdene and the three men who court her. Per The Guardian:
In 2003, the novel was listed at number 48 on the BBC’s survey The Big Read (the nation’s best-loved novels). In 2007, the book finished 10th on The Guardian’s list of greatest love stories of all time.
(Extra credit points will be given for those who watch the movie as well :). But please, no spoilers until December!)
Just want to note that in addition to the recent movie (which I recently watched via Amazon streaming) there is an older version with Julie Christie, Terrance Stamp, Peter Finch and Alan Bates which I remember liking very much when I was in high school. I plan to track it down as well.
Glad we’re reading this book. The Carey Mulligan movie of it has one of my new favorite actors in the lead – Matthias Schoenaerts…mm, mm! Michael Sheen is also great in it.
Wow – December 1st already! Welcome to our discussion of Far From the Madding Crowd.
I had never read the book or seen the movie, so I enjoyed simply watching the story unfold and wondering how on earth everything was going to work out (or not). I know this book is on The Guardian’s list of the greatest love stories of all time, but I didn’t exactly have a warm and fuzzy feeling upon turning the last page. Rather, my first thoughts were Poor Mr. Boldwood, followed by Bathsheba doesn’t deserve Gabriel.
Not going to answer any questions specifically. I thought I’d read this novel before, but it didn’t seem that familiar except in the, “Oh yes I’m back in Hardy’s world and I remember how seductive this was.” I read a lot of Hardy in high school, some for school, some on my own, and Masterpiece Theatre covered some novels as well.
I don’t really feel sorry for Mr. Boldwood. Yes the Valentine was a Bad Idea, but I think he fell in love with the idea of love more than he actually fell in love with Bathsheba. He barely knows her. Even Gabriel knew her better when he first proposes, although Bathsheba didn’t really know him yet.
I find Bathsheba an interesting character - she’s so capable at running the farm, but gets into trouble as soon as she has to deal with her emotions. Remember she’s basically alone in the world with no family to help guide her. I find the way she grows up over the course of the novel quite compelling. And I like that her love of Gabriel is based on real friendship and shared experiences. I also loved Hardy’s observation, that society at that time made it difficult for men and women to actually get to know each other this way. (This follows directly on what is quoted in question 10 - it’s in the second to last chapter)
ETA: I really enjoyed the recent movie and still want to get a hold of the older one with Julie Christie and Alan Bates.
I felt very sorry for him, but not because of his broken heart–because as you say, that didn’t really make sense, considering his limited interactions with Bathsheba. Rather, I felt sad watching what I would say was his descent into madness. He had really lost it by the end. And a reprieve from execution is really no reprieve at all, given the conditions of 19th century prisons. The only comfort there is that he almost certainly won’t suffer long, as we know before the shooting that his health is declining.
Definitely ironic! There was a lot of heat in this novel.
Note: I am now reading a book of short stories by Hardy called Life’s Little Ironies. It happened to have been the December selection of one of the sub-groups of another book club.
At the beginning of the book, Boldwood was perhaps somewhat sequestered, but that didn’t last long. I felt sorry for him…whether he was in love with Bathsheba or in love with love, he suffered so much – during almost the whole time from the moment he received the valentine until the bitter end.
Checking in … I haven’t quite finished the book. I just read the chapter where Bathsheba sends a wagon to collect Fanny’s body. She’s starting to put two and two together regarding her husband and Fanny.
I like the book but have been busy and in a “reading slump.” Anyway … agree - have agreed for a while - with Mary’s assessment:
December greetings, fellow Hardy readers! I finished a few days ago and although I am happy to say I have now read some Hardy, I feel like I might not be able to read any more of his work. I found this Madding crowd and the events Hardy created to be so dark!!!
I agree with Mary’s sentiments about “poor Mr. Boldwood”, but think that in the end Bathsheba was worthy of Gabriel. Frankly, I’m surprised Thomas Hardy allowed a happy ending to this novel. He was certainly cruel to the women of the story.
I’d like to learn more about Hardy’s relationship to his wife, Emma Lavinia Gifford, and wonder about the influence she had on his work. He met her in 1870 (she was 30 years old then) and they married in 1874, the year Far From the Madding Crowd was published. I wonder if there’s any Emma in Bathsheba. Here’s a portrait of his wife the year they met. https://dorsetcountymuseum.files.■■■■■■■■■■■■■/2013/05/emma-hardy.jpg
Included in my first thoughts is Sargeant Troy was a despicable snake who deserved a harsher punishment than that he received from Boldwood !
Wow she looks fierce! One thing l liked about Hardy is how well he described everyone - what they looked like and what they wore. He mentions towards the end that when Gabriel finally gets his promotion he stops wearing smocks.
So it looks like there’s a collection of her letters - you can see some of them from the preview function at Amazon - there’s one where she’s really really mad at Hardy’s sister for saying she isn’t helpful enough to Hardy. She call Mary Hardy a witch. Too bad it’s so pricey!
One of the things I didn’t know about Hardy before I read this book was how he could write scenes that were both painfully awkward and bizarrely grotesque.
I’m thinking about the following:
– Gabriel almost suffocating in a shed (because he did something dumb) and Bathsheba rescuing him.
– The gargoyle downspout vomiting water on poor Fanny’s grave, ruining Troy’s plantings.
– Troy cutting slits in a circus tent to spy on Bathsheba.
I have now watched three film treatments of the book: the recent one, the old Julie Christie one (terrible acting by Christie!) and a 1998 Masterpiece Theater TV movie.
Interestingly, the recent film did not include any of the above material. The 1998 film includes the near-suffocation. Both of the older films have a version of the circus sequence. Only the Julie Christie movie has the gargoyle, though the 1998 film does have a downspout and a flooded grave.
Hardy is a favorite of both DH and mine. Before kids, we even did a tour of Hardy country. Many of his fictional settings are based on actual places that were still iconic back in the early 80’s when we toured. I hope they still are!
If anyone is interested in further Hardy personal background, I can recommend an older biography in two volumes by Robert Gittings, " Young Thomas Hardy" and “Thomas Hardy’s Later Years”. Gittings provides a lot of information on Hardy’s young life that does seem, at least to me, to impact his adult fiction writing.
I agree with NJTM that the reference is deliberately ironic—far more turmoil than Arcadian bliss in Hardy’s story. In addition, there’s a grave of a man in the poem:
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heav’n did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Mis’ry all he had, a tear,
He gain’d from Heav’n ('twas all he wish’d) a friend.
Quite unlike what might be said about Francis Troy in his final resting place!
However, one thing that Hardy’s novel shares with Gray’s poem are the descriptions of the country, tinged with both beauty and sorrow. They evoked similar images for me. From Gray’s poem:
A snake, indeed – especially when he staged his dramatic return at the party and “began to laugh a mechanical laugh” (p. 295). Creepy.
Yet there was a glimmer of humanity in Troy—times when he tried to force his better nature to assert itself. In each case, it was due to Fanny: He does go to the church to be married to her and stands waiting stoically at the altar (although later he casts her off), and he does sincerely intend to make some sort of reparation in the end, when he meets Fanny in the road. And I was moved by his frenzied planting of flowers on her grave.
Did Francis Troy remind anyone else of Mr. Wickham (from Pride and Prejudice)? Both have smooth charm and good looks, and a military background, combined with vanity, materialism, underhandedness, and a penchant for seducing young women.
I thought Troy was a more interesting than just a snake. Hardy goes to some lengths for us to see how he ticks in chapter 25. I thought this bit particularly interesting:
I agree that Fanny seems to bring out the best in him. Yes he made me think of Wickham a lot.
In general, I did not find Hardy’s nature descriptions to be lyrical and beautiful. They were interesting to read, but I thought that he frequently hit harsh notes. From the example in Post #16 above: the rays of sun raked the earth and did not illuminate the dead levels, the sun was making a last effort before death, the twilight “embrowned” the shearers’ lower parts.
Momofadult, what is it about Hardy that makes him appealing to you? Although I am glad I read the book being discussed here, I must say that I am not in a hurry to read any more of his novels. One reason for that is that I have heard that most of them are a lot darker than Far From the Madding Crowd. What are your favorite Hardy novels and why, if you don’t mind my asking?
Michael Sheen is also great in it.
