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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