It’s been a while. I jotted some notes down on finishing reading Far From the Madding Crowd a few weeks ago, and am only now transferring these thoughts to our blog …

This is a spontaneous reaction captured the moment I finished reading …

I have just read Far From the Madding Crowd. It transported me into a reverie of contemplation conjured by the magical spell of Hardy’s writing.

The story of beautiful Bathsheba and the angelic farmer Gabriel Oak is just so romantic. The sumptuous descriptions of the countryside and what a ‘studious’ essay might refer to as the very affecting use of pathetic fallacy (use of nature to highlight human feelings etc) is simply mesmeric.

Hardy relays such a compassion for human imperfections. There are religious overtones but to me, they come across as non-judgemental. Gabriel may be meant to be ‘God-like’ (yes yes symbolic name etc) in his altruistic loving, humble and steadfast attitude. But there is such a fantastic, warming thread of non-judgement. And Gabriel is very human too in his mortal suffering for the love for Bathsheba. His selflessness, his tolerance, his straightforward honesty, and his forebearance seemingly devoid of resentment, make us – or made me – the reader, love him. Took Bathsheba a while, but she got there in the end! I didn’t think he was a goody, goody, just a good, strong, honest, open, straightforward, caring loving man (Am I in love??). With a potential for fun too …? I thought so, but I know some of my book club companions thought he was potentially a bit boring …

But we (or I) also feel compassion for the human flaws displayed by Bathsheba, Boldwood, Troy and the gossiping, often drunk villagers. If ever there was an example of warmth and acceptance it is one manifested so well in this story.

I have come to love Bristol having lived here now for nearly five years. This may be why I am now re- drawn to Hardy’s Wessex. I want to know more of his Wessex, the backdrop to and inspiration for his novels. Apparently he wasn’t actually very nice, which is disappointing. I will have to look into that …

He apparently died on my birthday, 11th January, 1928 – 43 years before I was born. In my current state of mind, having been so moved by his writing … I am feeling this to be significant … Always one to find ‘meaning’ in everything! Much teased about this but the inclination never deserts me … coincidences and serendipity intrigue and inspire me.

One thing – there are a few, what I interpreted as rather patronising allusions to women’s fickle whims, which I found a little bit off-putting … and am keen to explore further. I really don’t want to see Hardy as a mysoginist but the signs are there … However, his portrayal of Bathsheba is, I think, sympathetic (even empathetic?) overall. He wrote in very different times to now, and the overall sense is of a writer sensitive to human frailties manifest in men and women, but his depiction of women, to me (being one!), does appear to be a little less enlightened than of men in this novel …

But, I am moved. Bathsheba has a happy ending, And Gabriel is the angel of the piece …

Plus, there is much comedy in this novel. I love the villagers’ dramas in the Malthouse; their relationships and perspectives. They are a bit like the ‘mechanicals’ in Shakespeare. And although we laugh at them we all laugh with them. Hardy presents them with the warmth and compassion consistent with his attitude towards the main protagonists of the story.

The real victim of the novel, to me, is poor Fanny Robin. And this reminds me of the poor, young, female and dead victim in An Inspector Calls by J B Priestley. Powerless and innocent in every way, ignored and treated badly by everyone … ends up dead, and no-one really cares or sees her as significant, and until the Inspector turns up has any feeling of responsibility for her untimely and tragic demise.

I think it is fitting that it is Bathsheba and Gabriel who tend to Fanny’s grave in the end. It is tragic that Troy can’t even do that with any success … he is just incapable of looking after anybody or anything apart from himself. And in the end, he doesn’t do that very well in the end. Handsome, charming and fun though, to be sure …

I am writing much more than I imagined … the book has clearly made me think in all sorts of ways. Which is not surprising since this is Hardy, author with a secure place in the traditional cannon of English Literature … Not that that is a sure fire indication that his writing will be enjoyable and stimulating … but it is, to me, thankfully …

Anyway, enough now. Enough triggers for book club chats. I am interested in anyone else’s thoughts on what I have rediscovered as such an engaging, moving read. Issues of old still relevant today. Same as Madame Bovary by Flaubert which I have also just read and seen performed at the Old Vic … but that is another blog post!

Once into the groove of the more old fashioned style of writing, Far from the Madding Crowd was a page-turner for me. And in fact, the more charming because of the careful turn of phrase, the attention to detail, the exquisite descriptions of nature etc etc … they really did know how to paint a picture in words in those days unaquainted as they were with film or television.

Will our children be able to exert enough effort to ‘get into’ this kind of writing and to be able to appreciate its beauty and its relevance – its potential to affect their understanding of LIFE? Who knows …

Much food for thought … do share yours if you feel so inclined …

Kate x

PS Looking forward to watching the DVD with Carey Mulligan

This is a great tome of a book. It had been recommended to me many times, but what finally spurred me on pick it up and start reading with intent to finish was the fact that it was suggested for book club. Nothing like a deadline to get you going.

I thought I would find it difficult to finish. But, it was a total page turner. I was hooked from the beginning and the adrenaline was constant. If you’ve ever watched any of the Bourne movies, it kind of felt like it had that constant ‘keep moving’ music pulsing away in the background, drawing you and on you in spite of the terror of what might be around the corner.

Here’s the book cover precis:

‘Aged thirteen, Theo Decker, son of a devoted mother and an absent father, miraculously survives a catastrophe that otherwise tears his life apart. Alone and rudderless in New York, he is taken in by the family of a wealthy friend. Theo is tormented by longing for his mother and down the years he links to the thing that most reminds him of her: a small, captivating painting that ultimately draws him into the criminal underworld.’

The story itself is gripping. You have to keep knowing what is going to happen next, how things will end. The writing is utterly compelling and the exploration of big ideas is seemlessly threaded right through it all. Ideas about love, fate, death, survival, the human condition, mortality, immortality, truth and illusion, the significance of beautiful things … the endlessly ponderable philosophical subject of the meaning and/or point of our lives good or bad, here on planet Earth.

There are moments of unutterable brutality and cruelty, and also sublime tenderness and human warmth.

What more can I say? It is an epic work and will stay with you long after you have finished it. Whether you liked it or not.

Well … I was intrigued. Brilliant idea to meet Scout and Atticus 20 years on from THAT trial, and THOSE lessons about ‘standing inside another person’s shoes’ … Oh Atticus, everybody wants you to be their dad.

At this point though, I can’t resist inserting a silly joke I saw the other day did along the lines of:

Never complain about someone until you have walked a good long mile in their shoes. Then, it’s fine  – because you are a good mile away from them plus you have their shoes! Ho, Ho, Ho …

But, jokes aside … I found this sequel to be, well, not as good as To Kill A Mockingbird but worth sticking with. What is fascinating is that it was in fact written before To Kill A Mockingbird. There is an allusion to the Trial of Tom Robinson and apparently Harper Lee was advised that this might be a better central theme for the story. And brilliant advice that turned out to be – a child’s view of events heightened the prejudice Lee wanted to highlight so fantastically well.

Go Set A Watchman sees Scout returning to her home town of Maycomb as a young woman, educated and now a lawyer herself practising in New York. Times have moved on, but the journey towards establishing equal rights between the black and white communities is a complicated one. It is interesting to see how things play out in the novel in this respect.

What I found more compelling though, was the emotional journey experienced by Scout in terms of her relationship with her father and family. It is a tale of disillusionment and passions run high.

Go Set A Watchman is no doubt an interesting and engaging read on a historical and emotional level. I wonder what it would be like to read if you haven’t read To Kill A Mockingbird? Better or worse, I don’t know. I think really, you have to appreciate the incredible relationship between Scout and Atticus in To Kill A Mockingbird to feel the full force of what goes on between them in Go Set A Watchman.

Go on, give it a whirl. All comments appreciated …