Works of Thomas Hardy discussion

Bridget Great summary. As others in our group have already noted there are a great many characters and situations being juggled by Hardy in this chapter.

I pause to think about Farfrae and see some cracks in his character. I think he is rather innocent of the events that are swirling around him. My question is why? Is his innocence founded on his relatively young age? Perhaps, but Elizabeth-Jane is young as well, and she is well-grounded, is both able to intuit her surroundings and act in a mature manner that Farfrae has not yet demonstrated. Farfrae changed his mind at the last second at Henshard’s cajoling to stay in Casterbridge, and formed a deep emotional attachment to Elizabeth-Jane only to seem unaware of the consequences of his actions when he turned his attention and heart towards Lucetta.

One can argue that his actions towards Henchard’s fall from grace are tinged with kindness, but I would suggest his actions are also founded on naïveté. Yes, he wanted to aid Henchard by supporting the idea of buying a seed shop, but his mind is easily changed. Yes, he wants to be Mayor, but as readers we know that Lucetta is against this decision. They were set to move.

Overall, I think that a combination of his immaturity, a lack of a grasp of the social rhythms of the town of Casterbridge, and most dangerously, being unable to see the lurking danger of Henchard’s animosity make Farfrae a very vulnerable character.

I agree with Peter on Farfrae.

In this chapter, he opposed everyone's concerns with a friendly or smiling attitude - as if he were disconnected from the "warrld" around him and living in a world of Bisounours/Care Bears. His three times recurring kind words to Elizabeth-Jane "But we are quite friendly", etc, are typical for some people who wish to oppose negativity but seem to be blind to reality.

Nor does he take Lucetta's concerns into account - she does not tell her why, but she clearly does not feel well in Casterbridge and Donald should have considered this as some of you already mentioned.

I agree with Peter that he changes his mind too easily, and this may make life more difficult for those immediately around, especially his wife.

I also agree about Farfrae. It seems he is more flattered by being Mayor than listening to his wife's feelings about where they should live. Is it Vanity? Ambition? or simply Naivete? Or maybe a little of all three.

Thank you all for the kind words about my summaries. I'm so glad you appreciate them, especially when the chapters get very dense like Chapter 34.

I'm now going to move us onto Chapter 35.

CHAPTER 35

Summary

Lucetta had retired upstairs that evening, but she had not gone to sleep. As the time arrives and passes when Farfrae normally comes to bed, Lucetta decides to get up and see where he is. She hears voices downstairs and overhears Henchard and Farfrae. She stands transfixed by horror as she hears her own words read aloud by Henchard. Their conversation indicates, however, that Farfrae does not know the author of the letters. He encourages Henchard to burn the letters to preserve the woman’s privacy, but Henchard says he will not do so.

Lucetta sits on her bed, waiting, unable to undress or move in her state of anxiety. Had Henchard revealed the truth before leaving? She wonders. Farfrae arrives upstairs and upon observing that he does not know the truth, Lucetta bursts into tears.

The next day, Lucetta wonders how to parry Henchard’s next attack. She considers telling Farfrae the truth but is too afraid that he will consider the situation her fault rather than her misfortune. She decides to attempt to persuade Henchard to return the letters to her and writes to him, requesting that he meet her at The Ring that evening.

Lucetta prepares for the meeting with Henchard by wearing her drabbest clothes and attempting to heighten her tired and worn look that is the result of a sleepless night after overhearing Henchard read her letters aloud. When Lucetta sees Henchard at The Ring, she marks a change in his demeanor when he sees her. Henchard remembers his meeting with Susan in this same place, and the similarity between Lucetta’s appearance and Susan’s appearance at that moment predisposes him to take pity on Lucetta.

When Henchard says he is sorry to see her looking so ill, Lucetta says that he is the cause. She begs him not to ruin her happiness and her marriage in this way. Henchard realizes that such a woman is a “very small deer to hurt” and he feels ashamed of his desire to punish Lucetta. He promises Lucetta that he will return the letters to her but cautions her that Farfrae may still discover the truth through someone other than himself. Lucetta says that she hopes this will not happen until she has proved herself a faithful wife, so that Farfrae might forgive her for everything.

A Little More . . .

Again, the power of language, and overheard information, is key as Lucetta overhears Henchard talking with Farfrae. It’s interesting that Lucetta can tell from Farfrae’s voice he’s not very interested in what Henchard is saying, ”He spoke merely in the accents of a man who made a present of his time.”. It made me wonder if Henchard realizes he is being humored by Farfrae. It seems to me now that both Henchard and Farfrae are oblivious to social cues around them.

Lucetta is aware of Henchard’s ability to hurt her, but also aware of Farfrae’s ignorance about the situation, putting her in a tricky situation. Farfrae’s advice that Henchard burn the letters is unknowingly advice that protects himself. It also shows his sense that they shouldn’t pry into private affairs.

Lucetta’s anxiety shows her lack of control in the situation. She is entirely at Henchard’s mercy because she will not be able to defend herself against his accusation. When Lucetta considers whether to tell Farfrae the truth, she is primarily guided by considerations of how he will react. She is worried about her reputation, but now this concern is focused entirely on what Farfrae will think. Love has changed Lucetta.

The Ring, which symbolizes the concealing of secrets, is the perfect meeting place for Lucetta and Henchard. I liked how Hardy set the tension of the scene with this description:

” The sun was resting on the hill like a drop of blood on an eyelid by the time she had got up the road opposite the amphitheater, which she speedily entered. The interior was shadowy, and emphatic of the absence of every living thing.”

Lucetta is the doppelganger for Susan, who is almost eerily present for Henchard as he steps into The Ring ”Henchard was disarmed. His old feeling of supercilious pity for womankind in general was intensified by his suppliant appearing here as the double of the first” Henchard was aware of the wrong he had done to Susan, but he was not aware, until this moment, of the wrong he did to Lucetta.

Henchard uses the words “a very small deer to hunt” to describe Lucetta in the moment that he understands he should pity her, rather than punish her. Henchard views women as either vulnerable creatures or wild creatures to be controlled according to his wishes. Comparing Lucetta to an animal is, therefore, fitting.


Okay, over to you!!

There are parallels and inversed mirror images in this chapter.

Yesterday I first mentioned the eavesdropping/overhearing scene but deleted this when I realised that it came up in today's chapter.

Lucetta overhearing Henchard's voice and eavesdropping (another eavesdropping case here) was a torture for her and yes, it is not just about her respectability in the town but now first and foremost about how Farfrae would react. We have read of (view spoiler)[a young man called Angel Clare in Tess of the D’Urbervilles, however published later. Tess was a pure woman and what happened to her earlier was accidental (hide spoiler)]. We may suppose Farfrae would be shocked and react badly.

When Henchard is meeting Lucetta in the Ring, both seem to be a shadow of their former selves. Henchard was formerly described as red complexioned and black haired. Henchard's ashen complexion in contrast was mentioned some chapters earlier. Lucetta is now appearing not in her red dress but in a diametrically opposite outfit, with, I suppose, no make up and a veil hiding her face, looking tired, devastated and anxious.

May we call Henchard's attitude more compassionate as it was before? He is reminded of Susan in that same Ring, in mourning clothes, as anxious, as tired and sad as Lucetta presently is.

I marked the same quotes as you did, Bridget. "The sun was resting on the hill like a drop of blood on an eyelid", and the phrases "shadowy", "absence of a living thing" have a sinister, foreboding tone.

Indeed, the letters are in Henchard's hand, but he is sharing his cottage with someone else, i.e. Jopp, who happened to have been staying in Jersey earlier.

And Jopp did make a threat earlier, didn't he?

Henchard appears weak here and I feel he's in for more trouble. That's the difference between Elizabeth-Jane and Henchard and Lucetta--E-J is strong. She may be vulnerable practically, but not personally as they are, if that makes sense.

I loved the language in this chapter. The line you quoted, Bridget, "The sun was resting on the hill like a drop of blood on an eyelid" was definitely foreboding but also one of the most unusual similes I've read!

Kathleen wrote: "And Jopp did make a threat earlier, didn't he?"

Yes Kathleen!

The closing lines in chapter 26 were:

“You shall be sorry for this, sir; sorry as a man can be!” said Jopp, standing pale, and looking after the corn-merchant as he disappeared in the crowd of market-men hard by.

It’s hard to catch one’s breath when reading this novel. Is it me, or is this novel very unrelenting?

I often try to boil down a chapter into major inflection points. With this particular chapter I came up with four words: seen; heard; overheard; and revealed.

There is so much revealed in this chapter to the reader, and yet so many, and perhaps even more information, that has surfaced but still remains unprocessed or unrealized by our characters.

When we overlap Hardy’s very effective symbolic use of doors and windows into the text, the novel seems to be one where we, as readers, function as observers. As highlighted earlier, the townspeople function as a Greek chorus.

I find this method of structuring the novel very interesting.

Peter wrote: "It’s hard to catch one’s breath when reading this novel. Is it me, or is this novel very unrelenting?"

You are definitely not the only one Peter. Often I feel like there are too many things happening all at the same time. Or maybe it's just that we don't get a break. Like when Henchard tells Elizabeth he's her father, and then two seconds later he opens Susan's letter saying in fact he's not. Or when Henchard declares bankruptcy, it almost feels like a natural place to start wrapping up a story, but it takes off again because there are so many secrets!

And speaking of secrets, nice job Claudia reminding us that Jopp was in Jersey - I totally forgot about that! That could certainly complicate things.

Hardy once again swings the pendulum on Henchard, illustrating the complexities of this character that is capable of terrible acts but also of acts of conscience and compassion. Just a few pages ago, he was scandalizing the town by calling curses down on Farfrae's head, and his demeanor seemed so murderous that Elizabeth-Jane felt compelled to warn Farfrae that Henchard might attempt to harm or possibly kill him. Yet now, with the weapon in his hand to detonate both Farfrae's and Lucetta's lives in one move, he shows mercy to them both.

I believe these letters would decimate Farfrae. He seems the type to weather a professional or social setback with equanimity, taking the blow in stride and forging ahead with head unbowed. He also seems, to me, the type to love with his whole heart and soul, and the revelation of the letters would be a cut that would damage him to his core. Such is the power Henchard has and chooses not to use. Although the promise to return the letters is made out of compassion for Lucetta, he also stays his hand the night before, when complete revenge is literally at his fingertips. How many people, in that position and frame of mind, would have had the strength to deny their darker side at that moment? Henchard is an interesting fellow!

Like Peter, I see the cracks in Farfrae's character. His innocence, naivety and good humour in all situations seem almost unbelievable. He could be so easily blindsided, and in this chapter he is close to being duped.

But Henchard continually intrigues me, as he is so complex. I mentioned that he often plans to go against his moral code, but finds he cannot go through with it. We had another instance today (ch. 35), in the Ring. When we read:

"[Lucetta] was much perplexed as to Henchard's motives in opening the matter at all" (i.e. him showing her letters to Farfrae) I am struck by this observation:

"for in such cases we attribute to an enemy a power of consistent action which we never find in ourselves or in our friends; and forget that abortive efforts from want of heart are as possible to revenge as to generosity."

I thought this was nicely nuanced.

But coming back to the theme of deception, also noticeable in this chapter is Thomas Hardy's view of women as essentially calculating: "the only practical weapon left to her as a woman" (about Lucetta but in tune with Hardy's belief) and Henchard's "heart smote him for having attempted reprisals on one of a sex so weak" and "His old feeling of supercilious pity for womankind in general was intensified by this supplicant appearing here as the double of the first (i.e. Susan, who had deceived him as to her motive: securing a safe future for her daughter, who was not his.)

Again, is this consistent with the character's attitude, or is Thomas Hardy superimposing his own? Are we being told that women will get their way by using their wiles, and essentially, men are their dupes?

Jean wrote:"His old feeling of supercilious pity for womankind in general was intensified by this supplicant appearing here as the double of the first"(i.e. Susan, who had deceived him as to her motive: securing a safe future for her daughter, who was not his.)

Jean, you enhanced very well that, beyond the fact that Henchard met the two women at the same time and place but with about a couple of years distance, it was in both cases very much about securing.

Henchard may have felt duped by Susan who secured the future of her daughter (who proved to be not his), but revealed the truth in a letter not meant to be read so soon.

Now, Lucetta is trying to secure both her marriage and her reputation in getting hold of those dangerous letters. Henchard perhaps feels that he went too far (not for the first time) when he was reading some passages to Farfrae, hence his promise to give the letters back to Lucetta.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Again, is this consistent with the character's attitude, or is Thomas Hardy superimposing his own? Are we being told that women will get their way by using their wiles, and essentially, men are their dupes?.."

This is an interesting question, Jean. Are the men dupes in this story? I'm not sure I have an answer, but that question plays into something I've been mulling over. We've been discussing how oblivious Farfrae is to what's going on around him, and that got me thinking that Henchard is sort of oblivious too. For example, it takes him forever to come to the conclusion that Lucetta and Farfrae are in love with each other. Whereas Elizabeth sees it right away.

Then I started thinking that Lucetta (for all her drama) also clues into what's happening. Like when she can tell from Farfrae's voice that he isn't really interested in Henchard reading those letters. The women in this story seem to be very much more "wily" than the men. To the point where one could even call the men dupes.

Is that Thomas Hardy's opinion of women? Maybe. It's hard to know for sure. Henchard's view of women as weaker, and lesser, is consistent with a man who gets his way by bullying people.

In this next chapter, we are going to see how some of the lower class men and women behave in Casterbridge. It strikes me as very different. Onto the next installment . . . .

CHAPTER 36

Summary

Lucetta arrives home after meeting Henchard, to find Jopp waiting for her outside. He asks her to put in a good word for him with her husband, as he hopes to be offered a position as Farfrae’s working partner. Lucetta says she knows nothing about the issue and refuses to help. Jopp points out that they saw each other in passing in Jersey. Lucetta doesn’t remember Jopp and still refuses his request.

Jopp returns to his cottage where Henchard asks him for a favor delivering a package to Mrs. Farfrae. He says that he would take it himself but does not wish to be seen at their house. Jopp agrees and Henchard retires to his own portion of the house. Jopp sits up and as he looks at the parcel he is supposed to deliver, he wonders about the connection between Henchard and Lucetta. He was aware in Jersey that there was some sort of connection between them. Inspired by Lucetta’s haughtiness to him, Jopp peeks in the end of the parcel and sees that it is full of letters.

Jopp leaves on foot to deliver the parcel and meets Mother Cuxsom and Nance Mockridge, who invite him for a drink at Peter’s Finger in Mixen Lane. Mixen Lane constitutes the poorest part of Casterbridge, full of decay, recklessness, and the lowest class of residents of the town. Mixen Lane is separated from the countryside by a brook, which resident poor folk cross by way of wooden plank bridges lowered by others from the town side. The front door is always closed, and patrons enter through a hidden side door in an alleyway.

Among the mixed company at Peter’s Finger, is the furmity-woman. The furmity-woman inquires about the parcel Jopp holds. Jopp replies that the parcel contains the love letters of a great woman in town, whom he would like to shame. Mother Cuxsom exclaims that they should read the love letters, and Jopp opens the parcel.

As the letters are read, the identities of the writers are revealed. The furmity-woman feels she has saved Lucetta from a bad marriage. Nance Mockridge says the letters are a good foundation for a skimmity-ride, a custom in Casterbridge for exposing scandals and shaming those involved.

A whistle is heard and Joe and Charl go to lower the bridge across the brook for a man who is arriving. In the process, they are hailed by a stranger, who asks whether this is the way to Casterbridge. Joe and Charl lower the bridge for this man as well. Seeing the inn, the stranger invites Joe and Charl back in for a bite to eat at his expense, as a thank you for their assistance.

In the light of the inn, the stranger is revealed to be more finely dressed than expected. Upon seeing the company at Peter’s Finger, the stranger seems uninterested in taking a room there for the night. He overhears the discussion of the skimmington-ride. He offers some money toward the proceedings, saying that he’ll be in Casterbridge for a while and that it sounds like great entertainment. Having inquired the way into town, the stranger takes his leave.

Jopp leaves but does not deliver the letters that night. Jopp delivers the letters the next morning and Lucetta promptly burns them, grateful than no evidence of her unlucky situation with Henchard remains.

Some Definitions and Explanations

1 - skimmity-ride: A “skimmington” was a procession, usually involving recognizable effigies or actual human impersonators, intended to mock and shame infidelity or spousal abuse. Skimmington was also the name for the effigy, often of a shrewish wife or a husband wearing cuckold’s horns, probably derived from the image of a wife attacking her husband with a “skimming-ladle”. Under various names, the custom was widespread and continued even after it was declared illegal (1882) under the Highway Act. It was a primarily rural practice.

2 – “Mixen Lane was the Adullam of all the surrounding villages”:
When David flees the wrath of Saul, he takes refuge in the Adullam, the name for both a town and a nearly cave in Caanan where people in distress would find cover.

3 - ”liviers,” or “lifeholders – copyholders”: These are very different categories. A “lifehold” lease was held for the lifetime of named individuals, usually, but not always, across three generations of a single family. While it could be renewed at the end of the last designated life, a landlord was under no legal obligation to do so. The loss of a home because of the last lifeholder’s death is crucial in both (view spoiler)[ “The Woodlanders” and “Tess” (hide spoiler)]. “Copyhold”, was a much more secure form of tenancy. It derived its name from a tenant’s copy of the court-roll recording a manor’s customary property holdings and rents. While the lord of the manor retained ownership of the property, copyhold gave protection against arbitrary eviction and could be passed down through a family, although economic necessity – such as the need to make expensive property repairs – often caused the surrender of permanent tenancy rights.

4 - ”blink like Ashton at the disappearance of Ravenswood: This comes from Sir Walter Scott’s “the Bride of Lammermoor (1819). Ravenswood, galloping along a seashore to meet Colonel Ashton in a duel, is suddenly swallowed up by quicksand.

A Little More . . .

Henchard’s request to have Jopp deliver the parcel is innocent, not a scheme. The exchange of the parcel seems fated, however. Many events in this novel exhibit ironic coincidence. Jopp receives this parcel about Lucetta directly after Lucetta has hurt him. Her treatment of him inspires his retaliation.

The language chosen to describe Mixen Lane and Peter’s Finger captures the way in which lower class life, poverty, and minor criminal activity complement each other in Casterbridge. The poverty of this area creates people who are naturally secretive, e.g. they enter their pub through a concealed side door (just like High Street Hall). Mixen Lane shows the economic divide in Casterbridge, and accounts for the unpopularity of the wealthy.

It is no surprise to find that the furmity-woman fits in among the crowd at St. Peter’s Finger. The furmity-woman, like Mother Cuxsom, is curious about affairs that are not her own, like Jopp’s letter parcel. The characters and their stories flesh out the world of Casterbridge, showing a side of Casterbridge that is both impoverished and violent.

The skimmington (or skimmity) ride is presented as a familiar custom. The practice seems to allow the poor to avenge themselves on the wealthy who enjoy very different lives than themselves. They achieve this revenge by shaming the rich, by attacking their reputations.

The bridge over the river and the whistle needed to lower the bridge shows the secrecy of Mixen Lane and the close-knit community. The community will, however, welcome a stranger who seems more economically stable.

Despite the stranger’s welcome at Peter’s Finger, the stranger sees himself as above the lodgings. The stranger is not, however, too proud to disapprove of the skimmington-ride.

Although Jopp delivers the letters, the damage has been done, and the secret has been exposed. Evidence is, in this moment, less important than public opinion.

I'm sure you all will have thoughts about this chapter, over to you!

Sunday is a FREE day, and on Monday we will resume with Chapter 37, on a new thread.

I particularly enjoyed this lively chapter where, as you rightly said, Bridget, very much is based on bunches of coincidences: Lucetta coming across Jopp, already sinister enough under his lamp in the darkness, who said he had already met her in Jersey, implicitly meaning he knows a great deal about her, her refusal to help him, then Henchard imprudently entrusting Jopp with the sealed parcel of her letters and asking him to go and give it to her.

Once again we saw Jopp ominously watching someone go, just like he watched Henchard disappear in the crowd at the end of chapter 26. He watches Lucetta go home: "He watched her till she had vanished, and then went home."

I very much enjoyed the description of Mixen Lane, and particularly Peter's Finger. I imagined a worn out painted pub sign with a finger pointing at the public-house, but discovered a different reality nowadays (see second post below). I noticed the flavour of clandestinity here: a narrow nearly invisible side door, people whistling to announce themselves. Perhaps one of the best chapters for many reasons!

The meeting of a bunch of people after dusk, some familiar "Greek Choir members", including our furmity woman who wonderfully blends into this little world of dilapidated houses reminded me of (view spoiler)[La Masure Gorbeau, (thoroughly described in Volume One, Book 2, Chapter 1!) in a gloomy no-man's land where Jean Valjean was first hiding with Cosette but ended up with unsavoury neighbours, especially Thénardiers and a picturesque underworld of crooks and all kinds of shady and dangerous people, including, cherry on the cake, Javert stalking him. (hide spoiler)] in Les Misérables.

Once again the furmity woman is the triggering element of something, even if Jopp was already up to dark purposes and that skimmity ride may definitely give Lucetta and Farfrae and Henchard, and Elizabeth-Jane too (who has been absent in all those chapters, but will no doubt be shaken by such outrage), the last blow!

I particularly enjoyed the arrival of a perfect stranger in the night, obviously a traveller. The wonderful description hints to someone from far away, definitely out of place here:"his coat being furred, and his head covered by a cap of seal-skin". Did he shout "Ahoy"? That reminded me of Moby-Dick or, The Whale when the Pequod met other ships.

It is really hard not to turn pages!

From geograph. org, (but we need Jean's more accurate information!)

The St Peters Finger, Lytchett Minster, Dorset

The unusual name of the St Peter's Finger Inn is an Anglicisation of 'St Peter ad Vincula', which means St Peter in chains; the disciple was often depicted as a prisoner.

https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/81963

Bridget Thank you for the expanded definitions and explanations of some words and phrases. Skimmety-ride! Fascinating. I cannot recall ever seeing that word/tradition before.

I’d like to say a few words about humour — or the lack of it — in this novel. To me, the novel has been very thin on humour of all types so far but this chapter I found quite humourous in places. Mixed Lane was a delight to read about, the lane to its ‘front door’ quirky, and Peter’s Finger was a good read as well. I fear Hardy would tell me that humour was not his prime intention (as may other contributors to our read) but I felt a lightness in this otherwise rather dark and grim chapter.

Jean’s comments that Henchard is a very complex and nuanced character rings true. Each time I feel Henchard is unlikeable he will do or say something that proves he is a man of honour, conviction, and morality. Yes, he seems to be his own worst enemy but the action of him returning the letters to Lucetta show a man who is good. The burden of his drinking problem weighs on his mind and soul.

As for the stranger who has just arrived in Casterbridge. There are hints about who this might be.

Claudia has drawn our attention to his vocabulary. I will add the fact that he is wearing a sealskin hat and has great balance as he walks across the board. His hair is grey which places his age to an extent as well.

Thanks for that link, Claudia--how interesting about the name!

Bridget, you did a marvelous job summarizing this complex chapter. It was certainly lively, but I had trouble with at least one of the coincidences. Wouldn't Lucetta have been concerned about Jopp, knowing he knew her from Jersey, something I thought she tried hard to conceal? I would have thought she'd treat him with a little more care.

I did love how Mixen Lane came alive, with all of those strange little details. And who is this new stranger, and will he add a layer of menace to the story? Hardy certainly keeps us guessing.

"The inn called Peter’s Finger was the church of Mixen Lane."

The name "Peter's Finger" brings up the impression of judgement with St Peter pointing at Heaven or Hell. The lower class group planning the skimmety-ride are passing judgement on Lucetta. The people in the pub are downtrodden so it gives them a sense of power to make fun of the rich or haughty.

I also am intrigued by the stranger, and wonder why he is coming to Casterbridge. He seems to have some money, but he is walking and not in a carriage. He does not want to spend the night at a place as rundown as Peter's Finger, but he is friendly to the people drinking in the pub and appreciative of their help. As Claudia mentioned, the "Ahoy" makes us think of the sea.

Bridget, thank you for your wonderful summaries and definitions.

Connie wrote: ""The inn called Peter’s Finger was the church of Mixen Lane."

The name "Peter's Finger" brings up the impression of judgement with St Peter pointing at Heaven or Hell. The lower class group planni..."

Great thoughts about judgment Connie. St Peter is often referred to in popular imagination (mainly in the Catholic imagery) as the saint who welcomes the dead souls at the door to Heaven and decides upon their future, Paradise or Hell. He is often pictured with a golden key.

Indeed, ahoy, easily walking on a board as Peter mentioned, and wearing a sealskin (poor seal) cap, like a (view spoiler)[seaman (hide spoiler)]...

Kathleen wrote: "Thanks for that link, Claudia--how interesting about the name!

Bridget, you did a marvelous job summarizing this complex chapter. It was certainly lively, but I had trouble with at least one of th..."

I am seconding your praise of Bridget's outstanding job here, Kathleen!

I think that Jean who has a great field experience in locations will be in a position to enlighten us on that intriguing pub!

Claudia wrote: "I think that Jean who has a great field experience in locations will be in a position to enlighten us on that intriguing pub!..."

I haven't been to Lytchett Minster for a while, but yes, as you say the name "St Peter's Finger Inn" "the church of Mixen Lane" (great tongue-in-cheek humour there from Thomas Hardy) is a corruption of "St Peter ad Vincula". There are quite a lot of names like that in Dorset. Today I was at "Port Bredy"'s town square which is called "Bucky Doo" - a name I love and was once probably "buck and doe".

As for Mixen Lane itself in "Durnover", which was mentioned before too:

"Mixen Lane was the Adullam of all the surrounding villages. It was the hiding-place of those who were in distress, and in debt, and trouble of every kind."

Bridget has already given us the Biblical reference.

Mixen Lane was a squalid area of slum dwellings "where the only things that flourished were vice and crime". This is actually Mill Lane in Fordingham (Dorchester). Most of the old cottages had been pulled down by the time The Mayor of Casterbridge was written, in 1884-5. Then the entire area was torn down in the urban renewal of 1912. Here it is:



(This photograph was in the Anniversary Edition, 1920 and scanned by Philip V. Allingham, but I don't know when the original was taken.)

Bridget - you're doing a wonderful job here with your summaries and information. Thank you!

Jean I am really enjoying all the photographs that are being linked to our read and hearing about your weekly rambles in Hardy country.

Oh good 🙂Thanks Peter. This area of Mixen Lane does look squalid, for sure.

I meant to add that in the original serial, ch 35 (the point at which Henchard promises to return Lucetta's letters to her) concluded with scene in which Farfrae met Henchard and Lucetta, but did not recognise her! That must have been a nail-biting conclusion.

It seems very careless of Henchard to let Jopp carry the letters in ch 36. Almost anyone else would be preferable and have been more trustworthy, but Henchard seems oblivious to the resentment this man has for him.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Oh good 🙂Thanks Peter. This area of Mixen Lane does look squalid, for sure.

I meant to add that in the original serial, ch 35 (the point at which Henchard promises to return Lucetta's letters to h..."

I agree about Henchard's carelessness, Jean. There is much forboding in the path the story is taking.

Hi everyone! I'm enjoying the moderating and discussion; thank you all.

I'd like to comment related to Jean's statement that Hardy sees women as calculating. Jean, is that a biographical detail, or are you basing that on the evidence from this or other texts?

With that in mind, I think back to Susan, whom characters in the book describe as simple/unintelligent, overly trusting, or unimaginative. We commented that she seemed frail and doomed to die, but we were surprised by her deception of Henchard.

To me, Susan is a character with hidden strengths. She walked away from the 21-year-old Henchard when he abused her one too many times, when he humiliated her and accepted five pounds for her. She went away and lived the life of a seaman's wife, endured the loss of Elizabeth-Jane-1, and then "replaced" her with our Elizabeth-Jane.

And here is a strength: she would do anything for that child, even return to the site of her shame. To give her daughter legitimacy and a stable home, she is willing to take up again with the man who abused her so seriously. She is willing to lie to Henchard and, through him, to Elizabeth-Jane herself.

Why did she write a letter to be opened once E-J had married? Because then E-J would be safe and supported by her new husband. She would know the truth of her paternity, and Newsome could be restored to his proper place in her heart.

What would that have meant to Henchard if he hadn't opened the letter until the wedding day? Perhaps he would have been discarded; it wouldn't matter because the most important thing for Susan was to save her daughter from penury and weaving fishing nets for the rest of her life. Knowing Elizabeth-Jane, she would have found room in her heart for Henchard as well, especially if he had treated her with the love that she deserved as his "daughter."

Erich C wrote: "To me, Susan is a character with hidden strengths. ....she would do anything for that child, even return to the site of her shame. To give her daughter legitimacy and a stable home, she is willing to take up again with the man who abused her so seriously."

Erich - I agree with all the things you say about Susan. Definitely a woman with hidden strengths. It's not in the text, but I would imagine losing a baby (Elizabeth #1), makes a parent even more protective of surviving children (Elizabeth #2).

About your biographical question to Jean, I find it a fascinating question, and though you asked Jean I thought I would throw in some thoughts of my own (for what that's worth ;-)

Generally, I don't think Hardy found women calculating, or at least that wasn't his sole opinion of them. He was raised by a mother who did not approve of marriage. Gemima Hardy always distrusted marriage, which she passed along to her children (I think Tom was the only one of her four children to marry). But, I think Gemima's message was marriage was restricting, not that women were calculating.

I think Hardy truly loved women, and loved having attention from them, which became a huge problem in his marriage. While he was married to Emma, he had serious infatuations with women, the two infamous ones are Florence Henniker, and later Florence Dugdale (who he married after Emma died). I can see how that might lead one to believe he found those two women "calculating", but I think it was more that he just loved romance.

It is possible that Tom found Emma calculating. They were engaged for almost four years before they married. I think Emma was starting to think Tom might never marry her, and so she found a way to get herself to London (staying with her brother) and then all of a sudden they were married. There is very little record of how that all happened. Emma's brother and Tom's landlord were the only other people at their wedding.

On the other hand . . . . though Tom and Emma had a rocky marriage, they also had many happy years together, and he never left her. He stayed with her until she died. And after she died, he wrote some of the most beautiful love poetry.

And one final thought, if Hardy did hold the opinion what women were calculating, I think he must have also felt that trait came from the impossible situation Victorian women were in. Marriage was almost completely the only possibility for women. You can see that side of his opinion in Tess of the D’Urbervilles

Bridget wrote: "And one final thought, if Hardy did hold the opinion what women were calculating, I think he must have also felt that trait came from the impossible situation Victorian women were in."

Thanks, Bridget! That is certainly true in this book if we look at the main female characters.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Oh good 🙂Thanks Peter. This area of Mixen Lane does look squalid, for sure.

I meant to add that in the original serial, ch 35 (the point at which Henchard promises to return Lucetta's letters to h..."

Indeed, that's very true Jean, thank you for bringing that up.

Actually, Robert Barnes chose to illustrate the moment that Farfrae tells Lucetta he thinks Henchard is courting a woman - who of course was Lucetta, only Farfrae didn't recognize her in the shadowy morning in The Ring. It's a confusing plot line, which is probably why Hardy changed it later on. Thankfully, we don't have to worry about understanding all that - whew!!

I tried many times to copy the illustration here, but it wouldn't work, so here is a link to it you are curious.

https://victorianweb.org/art/illustra...

The summary for Chapter 37 is open on the next thread. Here is a link to take you straight there :-)


https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...

Erich C wrote: "I'd like to comment related to Jean's statement that Hardy sees women as calculating. Jean, is that a biographical detail, or are you basing that on the evidence from this or other texts?..."

Great question, and the answer is both!

Bridget gave a most comprehensive answer to this (thanks Bridget!) and I can't improve on it because she has read Claire Tomalin's bio of him much more recently than I have! (Do take a look at her thread on our group read, for more details chapter by chapter).

I would add though that for textual analysis, Far From the Madding Crowd has innumerable references to what Thomas Hardy himself terms "women's wiles". Here's a bit from my review:

"The frequent references to women as “weaker vessels”, being morally less developed than men are unremitting and obtrusive. If a female hesitates, or behaves capriciously the episode will be followed by a little homily on how this is part of all women’s essentially “infirm nature” or their “unalterable infirmity”.

Pretty much everyone participating in our group read became weary of this theme of women getting their own way despite their being “weaker vessels”. (I speculated that this might have been a core reason for finally removing Thomas Hardy from English school examinations about 3 years ago. The reason was never given, but it fitted with the general ethos of including more socially relevant modern authors).

Since Tom and Emma married during the publication of the original Far From the Madding Crowd serial, it seems an odd stance to take at that point! However, as Bridget says, the voice of his mother, Jemima comes through a lot in his writing from that period. She warned him about scheming women in general, and was very against his marriage to Emma.

But over the years his views changed. A mid-period novel such as The Mayor of Casterbridge still retains some of Jemima's influence I think, but by the time of Tess of the D’Urbervilles, his portrayal of women is far more sympathetic and nuanced.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Erich C wrote: "I'd like to comment related to Jean's statement that Hardy sees women as calculating. Jean, is that a biographical detail, or are you basing that on the evidence from this or other ..."

Erich, Bridget, Jean. Fascinating insights, discussion, and observations. I am learning a great deal about Hardy, his writing style, and readers’ insights on TMOC. Thanks all.

I'm sorry, it's not meant to be funny at all, but the image of Elizabeth-Jane, jumping up and (presumably) running like an Olympic sprinter when she hears Henchard's back on the bottle just made me laugh out loud !

Farfrae is also given a line about Fate: "...it's ourselves that are ruled by the Powers above us ! We plan this, but we do that."

Is it believable that when Henchard again agrees to turn over Lucetta's letters, she doesn't make sure he gives them directly to her? Literary license, I suppose.

Brian wrote: "I'm sorry, it's not meant to be funny at all, but the image of Elizabeth-Jane, jumping up and (presumably) running like an Olympic sprinter when she hears Henchard's back on the bottle just made me..."

Brian, so sorry to be late in seeing your post. The start of the school year has kept me away from the GR site.

You're probably right Elizabeth's sprint is not supposed to be funny, but I'm glad you found it humourous. I felt there wasn't as much humor in TMOC as I've found in some of Hardy's other works.

Great quote to pick out about fate. Such an important theme in Hardy's work.

Its totally unbelieveable that Lucetta doesn't go and get her letters from Henchard post haste. I'm sure its literary licesnse, but it could also be part of the massive revisions Hardy did to this novel over the years. (view spoiler)[I think in one version of the novel Lucetta gets her letters back when she first visits Casterbridge via coach. Hardy had to change that later to make the plot work. (hide spoiler)]