Classics and the Western Canon discussion

The novel opens with Tess’ father, Jack Durbeyfield, learning he is related to the D’Urbervilles who came over from Normandy with William the Conqueror. Tess’ parents decide to capitalize on this ostensible family connection by sending Tess, their eldest daughter, to introduce herself to the D’Urbervilles as their relative. Tess protests at first but finally agrees as she wants to make amends for accidentally killing Prince, their only horse. The narrator reveals that the D’Urbervilles are not really D’Urbervilles but are actually Stokes, Simon Stoke having randomly picked the name D’Urberville in an effort to garner respectability.

Tess encounters Alec D’Urberville, the son, when she approaches the estate. She introduces herself and is uncomfortable when he flirts with her. She returns home to learn the D’Urbervilles have already sent a letter offering her employment to look after the birds on the estate. Tess is pressured by her financially struggling family to accept the employment even though she is suspicious of Alec’s intentions. Alec picks her up in his cart and drives recklessly to scare her. He kisses Tess and gets angry when she starts to cry and wipes off his kiss. She tricks him into letting her get off the cart and refuses to get back in with him. She walks the rest of the way to the estate.

We first meet Tess at the May-Day fertility ritual and dance. Like the other young girls, she is dressed in white and carries a willow wand in one hand and flowers in another. But only Tess wears a red ribbon in her hair. She is associated with flowers when Alec adorns her hair and breast with flowers at their first meeting. Embarrassed by her appearance, she later hides the flowers. What is the significance of the May-Day ritual and Tess’ association with flowers?

Hardy paints a vivid portrait of Tess and her circumstances in these first few chapters. What have we learned about Tess so far? What are some of the details Hardy includes to portray her?

Hardy establishes an atmosphere of impending doom very early on in the novel. For example, Tess’ red ribbon foreshadows Prince’s blood splashing on her face and skirt. Her brother, Abraham, attributes Prince’s death to living on a “blighted star.” The narrator comments that Tess was “doomed to be seen and marked and coveted that day by the wrong man.” What other details contribute to this atmosphere of impending tragedy?

The lovely, sweet and always helpful Tess is a bright spot in the otherwise dreary existence of the Durbeyfield family. She is a "good girl" in every sense of the word. We know that she has had a sheltered existence in her village, and that she is ill-prepared for going out in the world. (How old is she, 14? Or is it 16?) The guilt of causing the death of the family horse (along with the coincidence of simultaneously learning about her "relatives") sends her out into the world prematurely. She does have basic survival instincts, however, perhaps from watching the earthy behavior of her parents at the local pub. I can feel the impending doom due to her being ill-prepared for what every reader knows is coming. The flowers and the ribbons represent part of her past (her innocence as a village maiden) being tossed aside in the face of her new reality.

Jan wrote: "(How old is she, 14? Or is it 16?)

Tess is 16 years old at the start of the novel. But she is a very young and innocent 16.

I feel like the flowers and blood all represent Tess’ virginity, which I feel is at risk with Alec and most likely not in a romantic way. (I hope I am wrong)

Mike wrote: "I feel like the flowers and blood all represent Tess’ virginity, which I feel is at risk with Alec and most likely not in a romantic way. (I hope I am wrong)"

I agree. In addition, I see the flowers establishing Tess as having a close affinity with nature. It's interesting she tries to hide the flowers on her return journey home as if she is trying to suppress her natural tendency and/or feels responsible for Alec's conduct.

The red possibly suggests the blood of sacrificed innocence. And the May Day fertility ritual, which is a pagan ritual, hints at some sort of pre-Christian outlook. It ties in with Alec adorning her with flowers as if she were some kind of pagan goddess.

The Derbyfield parents are really like children. While Tess is appropriately young and innocent, her Mother and Father are unable to understand, protect, or even perceive how Tess's beauty is a beacon for the villainous world outside their village, where they are pushing her. They thrust her into danger. But they are so poor they can only think of the need for survival. They are distorted human beings. Hardy describes their descent from middling prosperity to the depravities of poverty.

I don't understand how we can call Tess naive and innocent when she of necessity has the maturity to care for all those younger children and scrape her parents up off the floor of the pub on a regular basis. Typically, children in that situation end up over-functioning to make up for the parents' under-functioning. It seems to me that she handles herself well when faced with Alec's despicable behavior, so maybe she not so innocent as we imagine.

Tess is too shy and self-effacing to present herself as a dance partner to Angel, but in other areas she speaks out. "I -- killed him," she tells Alec D'Urberville of her father's horse. We know she didn't, but this suggests a possibility of violence in Tess.

Meanwhile, Alec forcibly feeds her the forbidden fruit in the form of a strawberry...

Emily wrote: ""I -- killed him," she tells Alec D'Urberville of her father's horse. We know she didn't, but this suggests a possibility of violence in Tess..."

Might it also suggest Tess has a tendency to blame herself for things she is not responsible for?

The horse's death was an accident because Tess fell asleep on the job. But she fell asleep because she was so tired and had to wake up at the crack of dawn to take care of business since her father was too drunk/hungover to wake up and do it, himself.

Emily wrote: "Meanwhile, Alec forcibly feeds her the forbidden fruit in the form of a strawberry...."

Good catch! A sort of prelapsarian Eden presaging a loss of innocence.

Slight problem with mythology: it was (allegedly) Eve who offered the forbidden fruit to Adam. Small, but not insignificant, point.

Sam wrote: "Slight problem with mythology: it was (allegedly) Eve who offered the forbidden fruit to Adam. Small, but not insignificant, point."

And it was the serpent who offered the fruit to Eve.

Roger wrote: "Sam wrote: "Slight problem with mythology: it was (allegedly) Eve who offered the forbidden fruit to Adam. Small, but not insignificant, point."

And it was the serpent who offered the fruit to Eve."

Yes, I saw Alec more as the serpent here, but with strong overtones of coercion rather than suggestion.

Tamara, you're right about the horse of course. But I still thought it was interesting that she said "I killed him" rather than "it was all my fault" or something like that.

I love all the lush descriptions of the landscapes and the many links of Tess to nature. Whether the obvious with the flowers or that she lives in a rural area and her family makes their living off the land/nature. As she moves from the Vale towards the Uberville estate, she looks back towards her home. Leaving her humble rural life to a potential opportunity to live a more modern life.

Tess's innocence: She wears a symbolic white, she is unaware of her looks upon the opposite sex, she sees the dance as "fun" not as an overture to flirtation and courtship, she doesn't understand how her mom had so many children, she succumbs to guilt over the death of Prince. Although she has an innate wariness of Alec, she doesn't recognize the slow art of seduction.
Yet the author paints this fertility Goddess picture of her and uses the sensual color of red from the ribbon she wore at the dance, the blood of Prince, her "peony" lips, and the strawberry. She is also described as "mature", & with a "fullness of growth" by Alec and he even greets her as "big Beauty". Dare I say she has a large bosom?

There are plenty of contrasts between the past and the present, starting with the May-Day dance as previously noted based on a pagan fertility rite. Joan D. is steeped in folklore and superstition, Tess is more educated and hopes to be a teacher. Tess drives a horse and cart and is in an accident with a more modern mailcart.

The death of Prince was heartbreaking and it appears to be the final catalyst to sending Tess out into the world. Prince was considered the "bread-winner" & Tess's overwhelming guilt leads to her accept her mother's crazy scheme.

I found the line about Tess traveling a "dark and crooked lane not made for hasty progress" when headed to fetch her parents from the pub as full of foreboding along with the conversation she has with her younger brother, Abraham about living under a "blighted star".

I don't know what--if anything--to make of this, but I'll just throw it out there, anyway.

Tess falling asleep and the death of Prince hit me right away as a sort of reversal of traditional fairy tales. I'm not a big fan of fairy tales because I think they reinforce gender stereotypes. However . . .

Sleeping Beauty and Snow White are woken up from a deep sleep by a handsome prince. They marry and presumably go off into the sunset to live "happily ever after." Here we have the opposite: Tess falls asleep. Instead of living happily ever after, she brings about the death of Prince which then sets her on a path of tragic consequences.

The connection hit me right away although it may not mean anything.

The other thought I had is Tess suffers for being natural. She does the natural thing by falling asleep. But she suffers the consequence with the death of Prince. She is naturally beautiful and is made to suffer the consequence due to Alec's lascivious attentions.

Tess can't help falling asleep; Tess can't help the way she looks. And yet she is made to suffer for both.

Chris wrote: "I love all the lush descriptions of the landscapes and the many links of Tess to nature. Whether the obvious with the flowers or that she lives in a rural area and her family makes their living off..."

Great observations and connections, Chris.

Tamara wrote: "I don't know what--if anything--to make of this, but I'll just throw it out there, anyway.

Tess falling asleep and the death of Prince hit me right away as a sort of reversal of traditional fairy ..."

That’s interesting, Tamara. I hadn’t thought of that. The scene with Prince reminded me very much of Far From the Madding Crowd, which also begins with the death of animals as a harbinger of human catastrophe. I think relating animal life and death to human misfortune may be one of the weapons in Hardy’s arsenal.

Unlike our reading in Arendt, when I was glad to reach the weekly requirement, in "Tess..." I am bolting through it and have difficulty stopping at the limit, jeopardizing my adherence to the dictum that we eschew plot spoilers.

Meanwhile, I have been meaning to criticize Hardy for the ridiculous imputation to Tess of having "Malthusian" feelings. However, on closer reading, I see that he did give her believable notions that would suit Malthus by encapsulating his theory immediately thereafter. It occurs, BTW, in a great passage:

She felt Malthusian vexation for thoughtlessly giving her so many little sisters and brothers, when it was such a trouble to nurse those that had already come. Her mother's intelligence was that of a happy child, Joan D was simply an additional one, and that not the eldest, to her own long family of nine when all were living. (Ch. 5).

As Malthus has it, the shortage of food also indicates the increasing population. This increasing growth if not checked can put a strain on the economy, the environment, government, and the overall infrastructure of various social institutions.

I am reading a very beat up old paperbook copy of the novel, printed in 1980 to market the movie Tess starring Nastassia Kinski and directed by none other than Roman Polanski. How horribly suitable.

It’s a great movie though. I always thought Hardy couldn’t really be filmed because it’s hard to get the beauty as well as the darkness, but Polanski really manages it.

Despite his personal perversions,Polanski was a great director who emerged out of the serious Polish theatrical tradition. That dichotomy between the brilliance of the artist's performance and the excesses of their personal behavior, whether we make allowances for it, will be a trending discussion because of Cate Blanchett's character in "Tar".

I remember seeing the Polanski film. I don't remember it well but for a few isolated images of Natasha. Now I read with dread. I hope the discussion will help me with Hardy's larger purpose.

My mention of Malthus is the direction of seeing more significant socio-economic issues than the story solely of the horror of Tess's experience because if it is only that, it may be just a melodramatic "soap opera."

People of lower classes lived in such irredeemable destitution that despite Hardy's negative view of modernism in our own time, we are better off now through its evolution of a "middle class."

Of course, ours, and every society, can be seen in its most brutal form as a grindstone for the individuals to bring them (or us) into compliance with forces beyond our control to fit a capitalist system wherein we are slotted for the classes into which we are born.

Thomas Malthus' vision is a simplification but not inaccurate.
Mother Joan dreams of upward mobility using Tess's beauty and bargaining with it for a chance at "respectability," although we know that the status she seeks in society is a fantasy and that at no level does it ever really exist. Alec and The Stokes, as Hardy draws them, are in our own eyes hardly "respectable." The author's vision is a dismal projection of Hobbes's view that “Life is nasty, brutish, and short.”

Sam wrote: "The author's vision is a dismal projection of Hobbes's view that “Life is nasty, brutish, and short.”..."

I would agree with that but with an important qualifier: "Life is nasty, brutish, and short and unjust but only for the poor."

I'm not defending Tess' mother for trying to capitalize on her daughter's good looks by sending her off to the wolf that is Alec D'Urberville. But I'm wondering what other options are available to them?

The only way they can crawl themselves out of poverty is by capitalizing on whatever assets they have. And their only asset is Tess' good looks. They live in a gendered culture where women were viewed as commodities and where their only asset was their beauty. So they send her off to claim kin from Mrs. D'Urberville on the assumption that relatives will help each other out. That is one way out of poverty. And, later, when Alec makes an appearance at their home, Joan is convinced Alec D'Urberville is so taken with Tess, he'll marry her. Another ticket to get them out of poverty.

Again, I'm not defending this action. I am merely suggesting their options are severely limited. They have to use whatever option is available--and in this case, they are banking on their daughter's good looks.

If we turn the lens and examine Alec D'Urberville, we see him for what he is--an unscrupulous sexual predator who can exert power over the less fortunate. Why? Because he has money. He knows his strength. And he exploits their weakness--their poverty--to his advantage. He knows he can get away with it because society will not hold him accountable. Unlike Tess and her family, he has a choice, and he exercises it to his advantage. Alec D'Urberville is nasty and brutish. Tess and her family are desperate.

I see Hardy as making a case that injustice and a double standard operate to victimize the poor and the weak. I see him as making a plea for social justice.

The Durbeyfields are reduced to desperation because the father is a drunkard.

Though Hardy makes a case that life is unfair for the people of the Darbyfields' class, we would find that Hobbes' description applies all the way up the social hierarchy. Alec is a villain, no doubt, and the harshness of life shows up most emphatically on the poor. Making that case has been the mission of writers from Gogol or Stendhal or Balzac to the muckrakers of 20th century America. But we will also find a some story of how harsh things can be in the upper classes as well, for example, Edith Wharton and The Age of Innocence or The House of Mirth, or Anna Karenina. That's what writers write about.
Another example "The Prime of Miss Jean Brody" (one of my favorites). Happy families are all alike, right?

But life is harsh, brutish, and short up and down the entire scale.

I think Hardy escapes that by making the Darbyfield's plight more an aspect of society than their own choices. They could choose to remain as they are without sacrificing Tess. But Hardy employs the compulsion to rise as the "given." Isn't it only child-like Joan's fantasy that drives Tess's narrative (so far)? That is what propels Tess's ordeal, a foolish dream.
(I must admit that I seem to be defending Hobbes rather than critiquing Hardy. Sorry. But it could be interesting to look at it this way, maybe.)

Sam wrote: "But life is harsh, brutish, and short up and down the entire scale..."

Maybe so, but it's a question of degree, isn't it? After all, how harsh can life be for the Alec D'Urberville's of this world? He prances around as if he owns the world because in a sense, he does. He behaves as if he is entitled to treat Tess any way he wants.

Isn't it also a question of choice? Alec has the means and can choose to be different. Anna Karenina may be unhappy in her marriage, but she has the luxury of choice. So does Emma Bovary. Their wealth endows them with a wider array of choices than those available to the Durbeyfields who are poor, uneducated, and who rely on a now dead horse to provide them with a meager income.

I so agree with Tamar. It’s not that rich people don’t make bad choices, but they’re still choices. I see Tess trying to protect herself from Alec—time and time again—but she still can’t escape. Grinding poverty (whether it’s caused by frivolous and drunken parents or not—narrows things to a life of no good choices. Exceptions to this—in life or in literature—are rare indeed, especially in the absence of any kind of social safety net.

Chris wrote: "I love all the lush descriptions of the landscapes and the many links of Tess to nature. Whether the obvious with the flowers or that she lives in a rural area and her family makes their living off..."

Great thought, Chris!

The death of the horse is indeed the final catalyst that puts Tess onto the road of her loss of innocence. It also adds to the tragedy that she seems to be the one with prudent, mature, "adult" thoughts, while her parents are the child-like ones who she needs to compensate for. The mental maturity of Tess comes about as a response to her parent's immaturity; yet, it is this same maturity of Tess that forces her to go through with meeting Alec even against her better judgment. She sees all the dangers, and has all the correct intuitions, but unfortunately has to ignore them out of desperation because of the lack of responsibility of her parents.

Kyle wrote: "She sees all the dangers, and has all the correct intuitions, .."

I'm not sure Tess does fully understand the situation. She tells her mother she prefers to stay home and when her mother asks why, she says, "I'd rather not tell you why, mother; indeed, I don't quite know why."
Maybe she does know and is too embarrassed to say anything, or maybe she doesn't fully understand the danger she faces. Later, she tells her mother, "But--but--I don't quite like Mr. D'Urberville."

Tess has led a sheltered life. She has barely been out of her village: "The Vale of Blackmoor was to her the world . . ." In spite of making frequent trips to the pub to retrieve her drunken parents, she seems to be pretty ignorant of the ways of the world outside the confines of her village. So even though she expresses her dislike for Alec D'Urberville, I'm not sure she fully understand what he is capable of doing to her.

Alec D’Urberville is obviously attracted to Tess. His eyes “rivet” on her. We are told, “It was a luxuriance of aspect, a fullness of growth, which made her appear more of a woman than she really was.” So he thinks Tess is older than she actually is. He inclines his face towards her during their first meeting, presumably to steal a kiss, but then he thinks better of it and lets her go (Chapt. 5).

Why do you think he hesitates? What do you make of Alec D'Urberville so far?

Emily wrote: "It’s a great movie though. I always thought Hardy couldn’t really be filmed because it’s hard to get the beauty as well as the darkness, but Polanski really manages it."

Hmmm, Emily and Sam have convinced me to try the movie when we've finished the book. If anyone else is interested, we could continue the conversation about the film later...