Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy

For me one of the best parts of reading 19th century British literature is imagining the author's 19th century British experiences and perspectives. Compared to what we now enjoy just over 100 years later, Thomas Hardy's were extremely limited. It's fascinating to picture him, hunched over his desk -- in Higher Brockhampton, Dorset, England, where he lived for all but five of his 87 years -- under a dim, recently-invented electric light bulb, writing with an unperfected, recently-invented ballpoint pen, or possibly with a revolutionary yet antediluvian typewriter. Under such conditions, employing his collective historical knowledge and exceptional talent, he produced dozens of short stories, hundreds of poems and 15 great novels, among them the 1889 masterpiece Tess of the D'Urbervilles.

Apart from the material frustrations, it is also interesting to picture his doing all this literary work without the benefits of modern conceptual understandings -- religious, secular and, yes, sexual -- that we take for granted. Indeed, the repressed Victorian morals that seem laughable to so many in virtually every area of life today -- from Hollywood, to music, to even the primary public school classroom -- were absolutely legitimate and severe in Hardy's time.

       This state of affairs ensured that Tess was censored and serialized before being published in 1892 in book form. Moreover, the only sex scene -- which may very well have been a rape -- was virtually eliminated from the text. Don't feel too blind-sided when you discover Tess Durbeyfield is pregnant in "Phase the Second," yet you don't remember how and when Alec D'Urberville -- her thirty-second cousin -- made it happen. Deliberately ambiguous, it is easy to get confused and miss the implied sex scene altogether.
       Unbelievably -- and despite the strict and oppressively disapproving mindsets of his fictional characters -- Hardy, as he did in all his novels, was pressing hard against the social and religious boundaries of Britain's restrained Victorian society. He was pushing for wider acceptance of non-Christian behaviours and attitudes, as well as elevating the dignity and strength of the lowly and impecunious rural peasantry.
       Mirroring somewhat his own life, Hardy created the rebellious Christian, the carefully-named Angel Clare, who eventually marries Tess. Angel had balked at becoming an Anglican priest like his father and brothers, thus disappointing his devout parents. Instead, he trains to manage a dairy farm, falling in love with Tess, one of the milk maids, during one such apprenticeship. We learn Angel had briefly met but ignored Tess years earlier in her own hometown. Is this hidden symbolism? It most certainly is, but just how it is allegorical is complicated, in fact too hard to figure out without more thought, time and research than I have right now. Something for the reader to discover.
       On their wedding night Angel admits to Tess that he once had an affair with an older woman, which naturally prompts a relieved Tess to reveal her extra-marital rendezvous with Alec. His own transgression notwithstanding, immediately Angel cannot accept his wife's pre-marital indiscretion, perhaps believing she did not resist Alec's advances enough. After making some fairly quick arrangements, he abandons her, travelling to Brazil to be a dairy farmer and to "find himself." Meanwhile, Tess experiences seemingly endless struggles to survive, but survive she does, that is, until an apologetic Angel returns.
       Not wanting to give away any more of the plot, I will just say this: it is hard to conclusively decide which of Tess' paramours -- Angel or Alec -- is responsible for committing the most harm against her. Another question for the reader to decide.
       Like virtually all 19th century novels, Tess moves slowly but deliberately, providing page-turner excitement by merely hinting at the tragedies to come. The prose meanders through Tess' depressed and depressing circumstances, as it provides a rich impression of her potency. But what happens to the book's characters -- how their lives are impacted by the author's profoundly intriguing plots and themes, which are clearly recognizable in other Hardy novels -- is almost secondary to way Hardy presents these actors. Their complicated personalities come to life through their thoughts and dialogue -- as well as their actions -- leaving the impression that Romanticism really does imitate life. He also seems to effortlessly paint the gleaming beauty of countryside England, the breathtaking historical landscapes and properties over which his people travel and work and hide.
       Hardy, who was inspired by the poetry of William Wordsworth and in turn touched the writing soul of D.H. Lawrence, was highly conflicted by the diminishing rural world and rapid industrialization. In such light, he sympathized with and clearly adored his main character Tess. He made her impoverished for sure, but also physically strong and tenacious, emotionally compassionate and mature, mentally tough, honest, loyal, gutsy and entirely dignified, save for her few errors in judgement about love and anger. But those problems can be directly traced to the restrictive society in which she lived.
       Of course, the reader of Tess falls in love with Tess the character, too, which makes finishing this book highly disappointing. Is there any better type of novel to read?

As with most books on Lynne Like's, you can get this on Amazon.ca.