Works of Thomas Hardy discussion

The Shadow on the Stone

I went by the Druid stone
That broods in the garden white and lone,
And I stopped and looked at the shifting shadows
That at some moments fall thereon
From the tree hard by with a rhythmic swing,
And they shaped in my imagining
To the shade that a well-known head and shoulders
Threw there when she was gardening.

I thought her behind my back,
Yea, her I long had learned to lack,
And I said: ‘I am sure you are standing behind me,
Though how do you get into this old track?’
And there was no sound but the fall of a leaf
As a sad response; and to keep down grief
I would not turn my head to discover
That there was nothing in my belief.

Yet I wanted to look and see
That nobody stood at the back of me;
But I thought once more: ‘Nay, I’ll not unvision
A shape which, somehow, there may be.’
So I went on softly from the glade,
And left her behind me throwing her shade,
As she were indeed an apparition—
My head unturned lest my dream should fade.

Glossary

broods - looms, or seems to fill the atmosphere or scene
unvision - cease to see (Hardy coinage)

The Shadow on the Stone is from Thomas Hardy's 1917 volume of poetry, Moments of Vision. It was begun in 1913 and finished in 1916. The last line of the poem seems to hint of the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Orpheus in the Underworld is one of the most frequently retold of all Greek myths:

On the death of his wife, Eurydice, Orpheus was so overcome with grief, that his sad and mournful songs reduced the nymphs and gods to tears. On their advice, Orpheus travelled to the underworld to retrieve his wife. His music softened the hearts of Hades and Persephone, and he was allowed to reclaim Eurydice, on the condition that he did not look back at her until they had reached the upper world. While on their journey, Orpheus, doubting that his wife followed behind, glanced back to make sure. Eurydice was then plucked back to the shades, to disappear forever.

Thomas Hardy in his garden, standing next to the Druid Stone.

During the excavation for the foundations of Thomas Hardy's new house, Max Gate, a monolithic slab was discovered three feet underground. It took seven men, and various levers and other appliances, to remove it from where it had been lying flat. In 1891, Hardy erected what he called 'The Druid Stone' on his lawn at Max Gate. It has been suggested that Hardy had a reverent—and possibly superstitious—attitude towards this five-foot stone, which was found surrounded by 'ashes and half charred bones'.

Emma was an avid gardener, so I can imagine Hardy feeling her presence in the shifting shadows of the trees in the garden in the first stanza of this lovely poem

Hardy always had an interest in history so he probably loved the idea of a Druid stone, or some other ancient burial site on his property. It gives the poem a mysterious, haunting feeling. Hardy's father was a stonemason, and Hardy himself worked as an architect on stone churches so an ancient stone would be especially fascinating and magical to him.

In the third stanza, he does not turn around so Emma's presence remains with him. It seems that he enjoys having her presence with him when he visits the garden, and does not want the spirit to leave.

Connie wrote: "Hardy always had an interest in history so he probably loved the idea of a Druid stone, or some other ancient burial site on his property. It gives the poem a mysterious, haunting feeling."

Yes, indeed! The stone has since been identified as a sarsen stone that once formed part of the perimeter of an ancient causewayed enclosure. (Thomas Hardy: A Biography Revisited). Even the least sensational explanation for the stone and the skeletal remains is incredibly interesting from a historical, imaginative and yes, even magical perspective—I love old stones, too!

This poem literally gave me goosebumps upon first reading. Emma's presence must have been a comfort, as Hardy tries to hold on to the feeling in order to keep down grief.

It did me too, Jane! It feels so gothic and although it is in a different collection it feels like a companion piece to "The Haunter" doesn't it? Thank you for introducing these eerie poems to us. I wonder how everyone will like it!

The West Country has many pagan stones, (as you probably know) but it's fascinating to see this one in Thomas Hardy's garden. Here's a bit more about it https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flagsto...

Max Gate is now owned by the National Trust, so anyone in the area can go and see it.

(This poem is now linked.)

Jane wrote: "This poem literally gave me goosebumps upon first reading. Emma's presence must have been a comfort, as Hardy tries to hold on to the feeling in order to keep down grief"

Absolutely Jane!

I really like this poem, and I think you're right as to why he doesn't look back.

But it's interesting - there are many things in life that human beings do not want to look at directly or analyze deeply.

Sometimes of course it is out of laziness or fear, but other times, it is out of a deep wish or out of a craving to be embraced by something beyond understanding, particularly in times of great feeling such as the times of grief that Hardy describes where thoughts can race in circles. Hardy feels her presence in that place, and he does not want to lose the feeling by analyzing it or questioning it with his eyes. He just wants to accept the comfort it can bring.

I think of a poem "Sabbaths 1979, II" by Wendell Berry with the lines:

"The mind that comes to rest is tended
In ways that it cannot intend:
Is borne, preserved, and comprehended
By what it cannot comprehend."

Another thing I noticed: "The Shadow on the Stone" has yet another of Hardy's grammatically negative inventions, "unvision." The fact that he chooses this word is ironic because within the poem, he doesn't want to undo this presence or "vision" of her by turning back and looking at it too closely with his eyes, the apparatus of vision.

It's also curious that normally we think of looking back as going back into memory, but here it is by not looking back that he preserves the vibrancy of the past in his "vision."

Bionic Jean wrote: "It feels so gothic and although it is in a different collection it feels like a companion piece to "The Haunter" doesn't it?"

Yes, it does, Jean! It's like a follow up piece, where the 'he' of the The Haunter poem has finally sensed a more penetrating presence, but at the same time recognises its fragility.

Greg wrote: "It's also curious that normally we think of looking back as going back into memory, but here it is by not looking back that he preserves the vibrancy of the past in his "vision."

I love this, Greg! Wonderful insights. Hardy's being kind to himself here, allowing his emotions the freedom to find comfort where it is found, not prioritising the more analytical concerns of the mind. It shows a certain wisdom; after all, everything in its season. Lovely lines from Wendell Berry's poem, there's a lifetime of thought in those four lines!

Like, Greg and Jane I had goosebumps too. The descriptions, in the first stanza, of the shadows growing into Emma, are so vivid, that if I had any talent with paint and brush I think I could easily render them on canvas. But, alas I don't, so the picture Hardy created in my mind will have to suffice.

I really love the line :"her I long had learned to lack". The alliteration makes it stick in my mind, but also the meaning. What an eloquent way to describe mourning - "learn to lack". That is the essence of letting someone go. Hardy says it so beautifully.

Thank you, Jane, for this poem, and all the background info too. I enjoyed learning about Hardy's Druid Stone.

I enjoyed this one, Jane. As I'm very light on poetic structure knowledge, I was curious if there a name for the rhyming pattern here where each 8 line stanza consists of two 4 line sections where only the 3rd line doesn't rhyme?
I appreciated Greg's insights too and coincidentally, just last week, ordered my first Wendell Berry novel, A Place on Earth.

Shadows are black but the Druid stone is white. We know that Thomas Hardy treated Emma very badly during the final years of her life. Could the dark shade of Emma symbolise this wrong-doing which haunts him? It seems to represent his brooding.

Brian E wrote: "I was curious if there a name for the rhyming pattern here where each 8 line stanza consists of two 4 line sections where ..."

I looked this up, and the closest metre is trochaic pentameter.

The rhyme scheme is aabaccbc ddedffXf eeXeggag (3 stanzas of 8 lines)

Сlosest rhyme: rima, closest stanza type: tercets

But it concludes, "unknown form"!

Bionic Jean wrote: "Shadows are black but the Druid stone is white. We know that Thomas Hardy treated Emma very badly during the final years of her life. Could the dark shade of Emma symbolise this wron..."

It could be Jean. There are two ways I can read "belief" here:

"...and to keep down grief
I would not turn my head to discover
That there was nothing in my belief."

I assumed he was saying it would cause him grief if he turned his head and didn't see her. I took his "belief" here as his belief that she is behind him because the stanza starts with "I thought her behind my back." He doesn't want his belief proved wrong. He says it would cause him grief if his belief turned out to be nothing or mistaken.

But the other way to read it is that his "belief" is the belief that it is just a leaf falling, since soon before he said that he heard no sound but the leaf. If that's the belief he doesn't want to dispel, than he is saying that he doesn't want to see her there.

Reading it several times, I can't detect either as more likely based on the text of the poem alone.

But regardless, there is a deep ambivalence because of his flip flops in the last stanza, with directly contrary feelings and "But" and "Yet" signifying reversals. Maybe he both wants her to be there and not be there at the same time? In complex relationships with feelings of regret and guilt, that sort of ambivalence is probably common.

But of course I'm reading into it with that side knowledge of his history. All I feel sure of from the text of the poem itself is the ambivalence

Another thing that strikes me is how domestically he imagines her, in the act of gardening, not what I usually think of as a creepy or sinister. Usually gardening strikes me as something routine and comforting, but of course, any memory of her will be complex for him.

When people feel guilty for good reasons, emotions can be difficult to untangle. It's even sometimes true that people don't want the guilt to go away because they feel deep down that they deserve it.

I think I read it the first way. But ambivalence, yes, and opposites come through for me too.

("read" - present tense)

Bridget wrote: "What an eloquent way to describe mourning - "learn to lack". That is the essence of letting someone go. Hardy says it so beautifully."

This apparently simple expression does seems to convey a great deal. For example, how much of the laborious process of grief is contained in the casual statement "her I long had learned to lack"? How much of the anguish of loss is embodied within the word lack itself? Yes, it is expertly and succinctly expressed. Thank you for pointing it out, Bridget!

Brian E wrote: "I enjoyed this one, Jane ... I appreciated Greg's insights too and coincidentally, just last week, ordered my first Wendell Berry novel, A Place on Earth."

I hope you enjoy it, Brian. I had never heard of Wendell Berry before joining Goodreads. I particularly like his poem The Peace of Wild Things.

Jean, thanks for the rhyme scheme information. I haven't the foggiest when it comes to poetic composition!

Greg wrote: "But the other way to read it is that his "belief" is the belief that it is just a leaf falling, since soon before he said that he heard no sound but the leaf."

That didn't occur to me, Greg, but I see what you mean. I'm inclined to go with the first interpretation, as the fall of the leaf, to me, sounds like the more definite statement. "I thought her behind my back" seems more uncertain than "And there was no sound but the fall of a leaf." I definitely sense the ambivalence, which is quite understandable!

Jane wrote: "Greg wrote: "But the other way to read it is that his "belief" is the belief that it is just a leaf falling, since soon before he said that he heard no sound but the leaf."

That didn't occur to me..."

I definitely read it the first way too Jane. I just meant that when I went back and re-read it with the idea of the apparition being a negative thing as opposed to a comforting thing, I see a door open to read it that way. In my original reading I think I was glossing over some of the ambivalence in the last stanza.

That's the strange thing I find in reading poetry - there are poems I feel I have a complete handle on, and someone brings up a different way of reading them, and I often find my view shift a little or I find I can see some other aspects or other ways of approaching them. Poetry by its nature is so suggestive, so condensed in meaning, and so figurative, that it often retains enough ambiguity to be a little slippery. I kind of love that!! In some ways, it's more like life, where nothing is ever perfectly definitive. There's a whole lot we can know, but we can never know every aspect of it quite perfectly. I think I gravitate to prose that is like that too, but poetry is much more commonly like that than prose.

Greg wrote: "That's the strange thing I find in reading poetry - there are poems I feel I have a complete handle on, and someone brings up a different way of reading them, and I often find my view shift a little or I find I can see some other aspects or other ways of approaching them."

I agree, Greg. I get so much out of everyone's comments. And even if I do end up circling back to my original vantage point, these little detours of perspective are an enriching experience.

What an enchanting poem, and, once again, how clever you all are :) Jane, thank you for all the additional info!

I am puzzled by the line,
Though how do you get into this old track?’
Why is it surprising to the dramatic character//the poet that a ghost might come back to the places she used to visit?

I agree with Greg, although the narrator is clearly grieving for the lost loved one, the lines
'Yet I wanted to look and see
That nobody stood at the back of me'
sound ambiguous - why would he want to see that?

Another moving poem by Hardy, sad and pensive.

P. S. I love The Peace of Wild Things! It helped me so much to struggle with my anxiety last year. I didn't know this author also wrote novels, will go and have a look now.

Wow, such interesting comments. I had similar feelings when I finished reading it — and it took a couple of times to get through it. There is definitely grief from the loss of a very dear person and the fact that the druid stone, when unearthed, was found near the remains of others, makes it feel like a very sacred place.

I wonder how others feel about this poem. I think it's very powerful!

Jean: Thanks so much for linking me into this poem - I enjoyed it. This is actually the type of poem I was looking for, ones where a past empire or culture palpably intrudes into the present. Unfortunately, it's impossible to search for this type of poem, so, since I didn't know Hardy's oeuvre by heart, I had to change direction, which was to seek out poems that explicitly mentioned Rome or its empire.The information about the Greek myths were also very helpful in adding a level to the appreciation of the poem. Thanks.

I think a lot of us enjoyed this poem, Don 😊