This has been a good post-PhD week: I finished two novels. Carlyle's Sartor Resartus, and Hardy's Far From the Madding Crowd. I had never read anything by Carlyle before, but I picked up this one years ago after a friend from undergrad raved about it, and it has been sitting on my shelf since (let me check) April 2006. It's an oldish Oxford World's Classics paperback - a yellow one - from the late 1980s. I am very fond of the yellow Oxfords in general, and this one has a particularly good picture on the front: Caspar David Friedrich's "Moon Rising over the Sea". I picked it at random for a trip down to Leeds last month - both the picture, and my friend's warm recommendation made it seem like a good choice.
I started it at the beginning of the month and finished it just now - not bad at all, really - but I was about to give up quite a lot in between. I don't usually finish books I don't like, but I felt like I had to finish it (because, well, one of the friends I went to see down south had read it earlier this year and I figured I could at least do the same, and because, well, it was never quite uninteresting enough to not finish it). I have read my fair share of 18th- and 19th-century books over the years, but I've never quite read anything like the Carlyle one (That's how I think of it, 'The Carlyle one'). Too patchy and non-linear to have much of a plot, too philosophically weird to be a 'proper' novel (or at least the sort of novel I was expecting from the period), too Shandyan (Tristramy?) for its own good (but without TS's humour and silliness), too long-winded for its lack of plot. But (but but), I really liked its quirky insistence on putting German bits and translations of German bits in, and I liked its occasional (constant/random/sometimes) social critique, and I couldn't help but like its main character, Teufels-thingy, even though he wasn't particularly likeable per se. Yep - I persevered! I think I shall like to re-read it one day, that time knowing what to expect. I suspect it is one of those books that improves vastly with reaquaintance...
Now, Hardy is an old favourite: Back in 2005 I wrote my (40,000-word) undergrad dissertation on his novels, and I periodically turn to him for comfort, solace and laughter (yes, laughter). I re-read Jude on the way to Oxford a few years ago to help me focus on the paper I was about to give, and I turned to FFtMC as a reward for finishing the Carlyle one. I have always loved FFtMC - if I had to pick one Hardy novel as a favourite it would surely be this one, and I'm pretty sure that FFtMC would make it into any Desert Island Book list (10, 5, 1 - I'd always, always take it). Coming back to it is like meeting an old friend again - you know exactly what they're going to say, but you notice things about them you've never noticed before. I think I finally feel the erotic appeal of the sword excercise (poor old Bathsheba doesn't stand a chance), and Boldwood is a tad more off-putting than he used to be (his grumpy mood-swings, and his intense reactions of joy and grief are a bit much), but Gabrial remains as he has always been: steadfast, shepherdy and lovely. Recently the description of Gabriel at the beginning of the novel featured in a friend's email 'he had just reached the time of life at which "young" is ceasing to be the prefix of "man" in speaking of one', which is revealed to be 28. Particularly apt as said friend is celebrating his 28th birthday this week and also as Peter, my husband-creature, turns 28 in January. (The rest of the quotation is about bachelors, and thus less appropriate for Peter. Very appropriate though, for J, said friend). I noticed Bathsheba's vanity more than before, and just how much she does promise to Boldwood (without ever quite meaning to, I think). I very much enjoyed the rustic chorus (always have), and it's quite odd to read dialect that is not Scottish (in recent years my dialect-in-novels intake has merely come from the likes of Scott and Smollett). I think I shall dig out my film adaptation of the book - the one from the late 1990s with Colin Firth's younger brother as Troy, and Nathaniel Parker as Gabriel (I also have the 1967 one somewhere - Julie Christie, Peter Finch, Alan Bates (of course), but I love the vividness of the later version - its bright colours, its dashing sergeant, its beautiful landscapes. Parker looks like I always imagined Gabriel, and he is very good with the sheep. I think Peter may be read for a little Hardy...
Posted by: |