Tess of the d’Urbervilles: A Pure Woman...--Thomas Hardy

Tessy Just finished reading Tess of the d'Urbervilles. For some reason, this snatch of dialogue from Mel Brooks's Young Frankenstein kept coming back to me: "Could be worse." "How?" "Could be raining." [starts to pour]. Don't know that much about literature, but am I wrong in thinking that the two main characters were Tess and The Creation? I don't recall feeling so embedded in a place while reading a novel before. I'm not just talking about the hills and valley's but also the details of outdoor activities. Most authors that I've read will synchronize the duration of the reading with the duration of the dialogue or activity by eavesdropping on the character's thought or by inserting relevant bits of back-story to draw things out. But Hardy will describe the physical reality that contains the dialogue. Conversations that take place, for instance, while milking cows really take place amidst the miking of cows. The threshing scene in chapter 47-48 is amazing. The remorseless grinding of the machine with Tess standing on top, feeding it all day long is unforgettable, as is the detail of the rat-catching hunt as she got to the bottom of the rick. The scene takes two long chapters, and the "point" of it (as far as plot goes) is an intermittent conversation. That conversation could have taken place anywhere, but having it just there imbued it with all sorts of resonances or connotations--and also extended it for emphasis. There's a lot to glean from those pages. Here are some descriptions of the threshing machine itself: "Close under the eaves of the stack, and as yet barely visible, was the red tyrant that the women had come to serve." And here is what he says of the man who ran the thresher: "He was in the agricultural world, but not of it. He served the fire and smoke; these denizens of the field served vegetation, weather, frost, and sun." And further, "His fire was waiting incandescent, his steam was at high pressure, in a few seconds he could make the long strap move at an invisible velocity. Beyond its extent the environment might be corn, straw, or chaos; it was all the same to him. If any of the autochthonous idlers asked him what he called himself, he replied shortly, 'an engineer.'" The Biblical and pagan allusions abound throughout, but they do so in the detail, and the detail is in the environment. Anyway, I expected when I started that I would hate this book, but quickly changed my mind. It is now one huge puzzle to me. Clearly, Alec d'Urberville is an irredeemable baddie, but I'm totally perplexed about Tess and Angel. For instance, there is one line that epitomizes my point. Tess has just heard from Alec that he has rejected his newfound religion and feels that the absence of God's threat has now removed all reason for him to be responsible. Tess has been relying up to this point on arguments she heard from Angel. Hardy now says, "She tried to argue, and tell him that he had mixed in his dull brain two matters, theology and morals, which in the primitive days of mankind had been quite distinct. But owing to Angel Clare's reticence, to her absolute want of training, and to her being a vessel of emotions rather than reasons, she could not get on." It's this last phrase that jumps out: "owing to her being a vessel of emotions rather than reason." So just exactly how do we take this? The surface reference is to the common assumption that all women are by nature incapable of reasoning. But is this really Hardy's statement? Is it the narrator's? Is it bitter irony? Is it mockingly said of Tess alone, rather than of all women? The men, after all, nowhere exhibit any ability to reason either, driven as they are in every action by lust, public opinion, or vanity. It seems the height of irony to drag up this shibboleth to explain Tess's lack of ready words when she's been feeding the threshing machine for hours while Alec has dawdled nearby watching. Great book. Lots to explore.

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