#poor mr. boldwood

[parttimesarah]

The fact that Michael improvised this line makes me very happy…

[nametoshort]

Far From the Madding Crowd

I have a hot take about classical lit that will have academics everywhere coming for my head, but Thomas Hardy wrote Far From the Madding Crowd from the wrong perspective. Gabriel Oak is fine, but he is predominantly an onlooker on Bathsheba's life, meaning that we miss a lot of narrative insight. Why would she send the letter to Mr Boldwood? According to Gabriel, she thinks it would be a good joke, which is fair enough reasoning, but for all that happens after, I feel like we would gain a lot from knowing her own thoughts during and after. When Elizabeth Bennet rejects Mr Collins's proposal, despite being a sensible choice of marriage, we have it from her perspective, so even though she turned down a good match, we understand completely why she would. Again, with Mr Darcy's first proposal, it is an advantageous match, but we see it all from her perspective, so turning him down makes sense to the reader. With Mr. Boldwood, however, we only really get a retroactive explanation, with his later actions proving her decision right, but almost feels like Hardy is trying to justify it to the reader because marrying Boldwood was very much the sensible choice. I know comparing any novel to Jane Austen is unfair, but at the same time, there is a lot that can be compared to Pride and Prejudice.

To compare, if P&P was told from Mr. Darcy's perspective, I think we would miss a lot of the development, so when Elizabeth accepts his second proposal, it might come across to the reader as if she is accepting as a way of thanking him for saving her family. If we were told the story of Pride and Prejudice from Darcy's perspective, we get a lot of consistency because his feelings for Elizabeth don't change much from the first rejection. If the story was told from his perspective, we would get a lot of insight into his character development from the brash "your family are poor and trash, so marry me" to the final proposal. But the main development comes from Elizabeth's side, especially regarding Darcy, and realizing that she was hanging on to her prejudice against him. Both characters learn a lot, yes, but from a narrative perspective, seeing someone challenge their own prejudice is much more engaging and rewarding than someone shedding their pride. Because we are told the story from Elizabeth's POV, we are certain that she is marrying Darcy because she loves him, not because he saved her family or the fact that he's rich.

I think that's why Far From the Madding Crowd is told from the wrong perspective. Gabriel Oak is consistent (as is shown in his name) in much of his character and his feelings towards Bathsheba. Miss Everdeen, on the other hand (read that in the voice of Donald Sutherland), goes through the most change. In a way, her marrying Gabriel blurs the lines between her realizing that who she wanted was in front of her the whole time and settling for the last man standing because we don't get that internal monologue. When you only see development from the outside, through the perspective of a character who is unchanging, you lose a lot of nuance and don't fully grasp the extent of that change. Because of this, it feels almost as if Bathsheba is settling at the end by marrying Gabriel Oak.

[dracosollicitus]

Hi! I was gonna ask this on a comment while I reread force and fortitude, but I figure here works too. Based on how you write it, clearly you’re well versed in that era, and I was wondering if you have any book recommendations from that time period. I love reading Jane Austen, but haven’t ventured too far away from her work, so is there any other author or book you’d particularly recommend? Thanks!!!

AaaaahHHHHHH YES

My former English major heart LIVES for this. I’m going to publish this (normally I answer asks privately, but this seems like it could interest other people?? let me know if you’d rather I not and I’ll take it down and send it to you privately later

Okay, so if you love the elegant, collected prose of JA (aka novels that secretly mask an internal rage against a society hellbent on oppressing women economically) may I suggest:

Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte (1847): Boy and girl fall in love in the moors of England, but too bad they’re both too selfish and petty to do anything halfway-constructive about it. She’s beautiful and headstrong and passionate, and he’s beautiful and headstrong and poor, with a chip on his shoulder the size of the United Kingdom (Dark, twisted, Heathcliff’s like the anti-Darcy, honestly).

Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte (1847): A plain but impassioned, spirited, and good-hearted governess comes to the imposing Thornfield to instruct a young girl who may or may not be the illegitimate child of a stormy and wealthy man, Mr. Rochester. Jane and Rochester embark on a turbulent love affair limited by her status, and his dark and terrible secret. (It’s incredible and Gothic and the happy ending is also tragic at the same time and it’s honestly one of the best novels ever written and while some people hate it, the recent adaptation with Fassbender (who yes, is monstrous in real life) as Rochester is incredible)

[Honestly, anything by any of the Brontes. Villete: slays me. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (by the lesser known - odd, considering this is what I consider the objectively best written of the Bronte novels - Anne Bronte) – go ahead and bury me out back, kthnx.]

Far from the Madding Crowd, by Thomas Hardy (1874): A few decades too late to really be considered a contemporary of Jane Austen, Hardy’s fourth novel is electrifying in its analysis and development of Bathsheba Everdene (and yep, the familiar name to a certain YA dystopian heroine is no coincidence), a beautiful and fiercely independent woman who comes into unexpected wealth and must navigate between three men who are determined to win her hand - but only one truly wishes to win her heart. Bathsheba weighs the virtues and downfalls of Gabriel, devoted shepherd, Troy, a charming but rakish soldier, and Boldwood, a comfortably wealthy farmer. (Tragedy abounds, there’s a beautiful if slightly inconsequential/toothless movie version with Carey Mulligan as Bathsheba; and people always talk about Tess of the d’Urbervilles when it comes to Hardy, but hey, how about a heroine who doesn’t have to be completely and totally hurt/destroyed by the men around her? To be honest though, you can’t go wrong with any Hardy, although I’m partial to Madding Crowd and Jude the Obscure)

North and South, by Elizabeth Gaskell (1855): I hope you like misunderstandings and slow burn romance with this one. Margaret takes THE LONGEST TIME to realize she, a haughty gal from the South of England who’s suddenly moved to an impoverished place, actually does love the tough-as-nails manufacturer in her new town – a man who tries to propose to her but really insults her. This book’s got union strikes, building tensions between the classes, and scathing commentary on the treatment of laborers (Charles Dickens actually edited this book, fun fact, and Gaskell’s prose had a significant impact on his own novel, Hard Times). This is Pride and Prejudice in the face of the Industrial Revolution, and given that it’s forty years later, it’s a lot more apparent and enraged in its commentary on feminism and society. It’s a little intense, and a lot excellent, and there is a phenomenal adaptation starring Richard Armitage (yes, Thorin Oakenshield himself, y’all, in one of his earlier, steamingly stoic, roles). If you end up liking Gaskell, I also highly recommend Sylvia’s Lovers (it’s tragic, so so so so tragic, it’s probably 54% of the reason why i’m such a flaming trash can for angst).

The Woman of Colour (1808): This was written by an anonymous figure five years before P&P was published. It follows Olivia, the daughter of a slaveholder and an African woman. It’s a fascinating portrayal of a biracial woman’s movement around the stilted and prejudicial society of the Regency period. Olivia has multiple men interested in her, and she struggles with her sense of duty and what it means to love another. While there are certainly some themes and characterizations (particularly in Olivia’s maid, Dido) that could cause some modern discomfort, it’s a great novel in that it reads so much like an Austen novel, has a biracial heroine, and, many scholars believe it was actually written by a woman of color. And, it dismisses the conventional romance/love novels need to end in a marriage story line. 

That’s probably a good starting place, but I’m always here for more recs