I chose the audiobook of Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles on a whim, having heard its title here and there for ages. I went in without any knowledge of the plot, with no preconceived notions at all. Well, Thomas Hardy took me for quite a ride. I did find it depressing for a while, but the end shocked that right out of me. He really was simply creating more sympathy for our protagonist, it seems.
Don’t be deceived by the charming opening. The scene of Tess’s father learning about his noble ancestry is humorous, and Tess is involved in an old Celtic ceremony—a parade and dance in white dresses—that reminds me of Gabraldon’s Outlander. It’s romantic and even magical-feeling. However, while this scene might help snag readers, it doesn’t so much reflect the rest of the book. Not saying I’d change a word of the beginning, though, as it hooked me too and remains my favorite part of the novel.
I was at first quite impressed with Hardy’s respectful treatment of Tess, feeling that he had such an insight to womanhood that I wondered if ‘Thomas Hardy’ were a pen name for a female author. However, as the book continued, I shook my head, finding it hard to believe that any woman—though undoubtedly there are some—would truly believe her husband right in all things and would so denigrate her own intelligence. Traits that Hardy presents as perfections of womanhood seem undignified, though I’m sure he means the reverse—in a societal sense. On the other hand, given what happens at the end, perhaps he’s making a point about the dangers of such thinking; maybe he’s saying, “It really isn’t such a good idea, this husband-worship that you seem to think it’s so great for women to do.”
In a sense, it was Tess’s extreme mentality—her need to cast people as entirely good or evil—that led to her mind breaking (in a sense) at the end and explains her conduct better. Her love interest was even named ‘Angel’, which aligned with her beliefs in him.
I am not in the least trying to excuse Alec d’Urberville’s crimes against her, and I was far more sorry at her fate than at his. However, Tess blamed Alec for choices that Angel made. She blamed Alec for everything that went wrong in her life, even though he’d possibly saved her family from starvation at one point, which is not nothing. Alec behaved very badly towards her in ways, but he did seem to love her as well.
It was somewhat humorous to me that Thomas Hardy seemed to want so much to argue theology—and sort of did, except that many of his arguments were only alluded to, as if he were too scared of reactions to put them in writing! Not saying he didn’t have good reason for this fear… and one wonders if a publisher toned it way down.
I did find some of the extreme scenes refreshing—maybe in part because of their uniqueness, but particularly because of the oddly morbid-but-not-so-heavy thoughts that accompanied them. When Angel sleepwalks with Tess in his arms, she serenely wonders if he’s going to drown her; she lets him put her in a crypt, and all the while she knows she’s in danger but is more curious than afraid. She trusts him so much, and he is so godlike to her, that even if he were to kill her, she’d think it must be the right thing to happen. The scene is actually uplifting, in a strange sense, after the preceding despair.
Thomas Hardy ever so often surprises the reader in Tess of the D’Urbervilles, but let me warn readers that there are relentlessly depressing periods predominating the latter part of the book, especially (whereas I liked how resilient Tess was at the beginning). The worst thing you could do is stop reading shortly before finishing, as then you’d miss the twist at the end of the story.
I am not sure if I recommend the novel, but I suppose I do, as I know of nothing else truly like it. It was a bit depressing, but certainly interesting, how Thomas Hardy challenges some of society’s wrongful ways of thinking.
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