Book 2 of 50 ladies and gentlemen, and one I've been dying to read for quite some time now. Tess of the d'Urbervilles is by an English writer, Thomas Hardy, who was around in the 1800s. He's one of the greats, and he ticks off the 'book by an author you've never read before' box for me on my book challenge. Tess of the d'Urbervilles was quite unlike anything I've ever read before and has immediately become one of my favourite books of all time, if not my favourite book of all time (The Picture of Dorian Gray is pretty hard to top). The book is about a young lady by the name of Tess Durbeyfield, who lives in rural England, with her poor family who dabbles in agriculture. Mr Durbeyfield discovers that he is a direct descendant in a line of wealthy noblemen, the d'Urbervilles, and from this discovery, Tess's life and future is completely altered.
One of the first things I noticed about Thomas Hardy's writing style, was his ability to romanticise any seemingly mundane sight into such beauty and delicacy. An example of one such description was that of the deceptively simple shadows of cattle, "
Thus it threw shadows of these obscure and homely figures every evening with as much care over each contour as if it had been the profile of a court beauty on a palace wall; copied them as diligently as it had copied Olympian shapes on marble façades long ago, or the outline of Alexander, Caesar, and the Pharaohs." To make such an observation, hinting at nature's neutrality, and suggest that in essence something so powerful as the sun should treat a cow with as much respect as it would a Pharaoh, is so inspiring and enlightening, and I praise Hardy highly for it.
Hardy's descriptions of nature and the sun, also seem to create a gap between his description and reality, the former seeing somehow embellished. It opened my eyes to the beauty around me. I was inspired to wake before dawn and witness what Hardy describes so vividly, yet somehow the muse doesn't compare to the artist's interpretation, "
In the twilight of the morning, light seems active, darkness passive; in the twilight of evening it is the darkness which is active and crescent, and the light which is the drowsy reverse."
It is not only his descriptions of nature which appear to embellish reality, however. Hardy managed to add more beauty, wonder and character to that which is thought to be perfect and unparalleled: love and passion. On seeing "
the desire of his eyes" Clare cannot control himself and simply has to give passion its way and hold her in his arms, "
Resolutions, reticences, prudences, fears, fell back like a defeated battalion." Looking at Tess through Clare's eyes: the women who has stolen his heart, was such a thrilling experience, and one so rare. It made me wonder about the extent of today's men's love and desire, which appear to dull in comparison to how Hardy envisions them, and begs the question: are their hearts lacking or merely their tongues? Do men feel this same level of passion, desire and love that Hardy did? Down through the ages women have maintained their interest in love, it's easy to see how much we hunger for it by merely taking a look around a bookshop or a DVD shop and seeing all the romances, but when did men stop writing about love? Did they stop feeling it the way we do?
Hardy does address the idea that time will bring a loss of feeling and emotion, echoing my musing that men in today's society may not feel love in the same extremity, or perhaps it has adapted. In the line
"It was probable that, in the lapse of ages, improved systems of moral and intellectual training would appreciably, perhaps considerably, elevate the involuntary and even the unconscious instincts of human nature." I am reminded of HG Wells' futuristic society in The Time Machine, which I shall be reviewing next.
On the final note of Hardy's philosophising, I particularly enjoyed his touching on the idea of a contained universe and personal reality:
"The universe itself only came into being for Tess on the particular day in the particular year in which she was born." This emphasises Tess's tendency not to over-analyse or muse about the abstract, and reinforces her character as a homely, stubbornly simple country girl, who desires to be nothing more.
Tess of the d'Urbervilles touches on the hypocrisy of men in society, and their demeaning, belittling attitude towards women, and women's pitiful devotion to their male counterparts. Tess takes on the role of a self-sacrificing, self-loathing woman, stereotypical of her era. Hardy portrays Tess as both an embarrassment to the female sex, and yet one so lovable. He paints a picture of a woman severely lacking self respect and perspective as the main character in his novel, yet I do not feel offended, as I often do when a man tries to use a female protagonist (often without success). This to me is a unique talent of Hardy's, and one that I do not myself pretend to fathom, but can appreciate its brilliance.
In relation to his characters, Hardy makes them alive with faults. Tess lacks pride and self respect, while Clare lacks compassion and has a narrow-minded, hypocritical mindset, typical of the time. Faults in general make a character human, but these faults are so drastic, that it makes the characters seem dramatically
more human than we are today. Perhaps this is why this novel is so successfully tragic. It is so bittersweet and heart-wrenching, yet somehow I am left with a sense of peace, amongst all the warped justice.
What more can I say but: read it. Just read it, and reread it if you have some more time on your hands. I can praise Hardy no more; instead I sit, and bask in his brilliance.
The Time Machine, by HG Wells, is worlds apart from my usual read (I'm not a sci-fi kinda gal) but it was a nice little breather from the heavy reads I so love. Why, Silly Little Lady, what on earth made you choose such a book? I hear you ask. Well, my lovely inquisitive audience, I'll tell you why. One Christmas many moons ago, an even littler Silly Little Lady strayed away from her crowd of festive relatives in order to fetch something or other. She happened to glance at the TV, and found herself lost in the most enchanting tale of Eloi and Morlocks and the ever lovely Weena. She could hardly tear her eyes away from the Time Traveller's antics, and lost most of the afternoon engrossed, while her family was nearly about to file a missing persons ad. I do believe that a story that can tear a child away from her brand-spanking-new Santy presents on Christmas morning is one worth taking a little time to get to know. That, and I had a 'book set in the future' box just begging to be ticked off on my 2015 Book Challenge. 
