GREATEST LIVING WRITER OF ENGLISH FICTION--BECAUSE OF
RESENTMENT OF HARSH CRITICISMS THE PROSE MASTER TURNS TO
VERSE.
No one will question the assertion that Thomas Hardy is the greatest
living English writer of fiction, and the pity of it is that a man
with so splendid an equipment for writing novels of the first rank
should have failed for many years to give the world any work in the
special field in which he is an acknowledged master. Hardy seems to
have revolted from certain harsh criticism of his last novel, _Jude
the Obscure_, and to have determined that he would write no more
fiction for an unappreciative world. So he has turned to the writing
of verse, in which he barely takes second rank. It is one of the
tragedies of literature to think of a man of Hardy's rank as a
novelist, who might give the world a second _Tess_ or _The Return of
the Native_, contenting himself with a ponderous poem like _The
Dynasts_, or wasting his powers on minor poems containing no real
poetry.
Hardy's best novels are among the few in English fiction that can be
read again and again, and that reveal at every reading some fresh
beauties of thought or style. The man is so big, so genuine and so
unlike all other writers that his work must be set apart in a class by
itself. Were he not so richly endowed his pessimism would be fatal,
for the world does not favor the novelist who demands that his fiction
should be governed by the same hard rules that govern real life. In
the work of most novelists we know that whatever harsh fate may befall
the leading characters the skies will be sunny before the story
closes, and the worthy souls who have battled against malign destiny
will receive their reward. Not so with Hardy. We know when we begin
one of his tales that tragedy is in store for his people. The dark
cloud of destiny soon obscures the heavens, and through the lowering
storm the victims move on to the final scene in which the wreck of
their fortunes is completed.
[Illustration: THOMAS HARDY--A PORTRAIT WHICH BRINGS OUT
STRIKINGLY THE MAN OF CREATIVE POWER, THE ARTIST, THE PHILOSOPHER
AND THE POET]
Literary genius can work no greater miracle than this--to make the
reader accept as a transcript of life stories in which generous,
unselfish people are dealt heavy blows by fate, while the mean-souled,
sordid men and women often escape their just deserts. Hardy is not
unreligious; he is simply and frankly pagan. Yet he differs from the
classical writers in the fact that he is keenly alive to all the
strong influences of nature on a sympathetic mind, and he is also a
believer in the power of romantic love.
No one has ever equaled Hardy in making the reader feel the living
power of trees and other objects of nature. You can not escape the
influence of his scenic effects. These are never theatrical--in fact
they seem to form a vital part of every story. The scenes of all his
novels are laid in his native Dorsetshire, which he has thinly
disguised under the old Saxon name of Wessex. In _Far From the Madding
Crowd_ Hardy first demonstrated the tremendous possibilities of rural
scenes as a vital background for a story, but in _The Return of the
Native_ he actually makes Egdon heath the most absorbing feature of
the book. All the characters seem to take life and coloring from this
heath, which has in it the potency of transforming characters and of
wrecking lives. And in _Tess_ the peaceful, rural scenes appear to
accentuate the tragedy of the heroine's unavailing struggles against a
fate that was worse than death.
Hardy's parents intended him for the church, but the boy probably gave
some indications of his pagan cast of mind, for they finally
compromised by apprenticing him to an ecclesiastical architect. In
this calling the youth worked with sympathy and ability; the results
of this training may be seen in the perfection of his plots and in his
fondness for graphic description of churches and other picturesque
buildings. One curious feature of this training may be seen in Hardy's
sympathy and reverence for any church building. As Professor William
Lyon Phelps very aptly says of Hardy: "No man to-day has less respect
for God and more devotion to his house."
The antipathy of Hardy to any kind of publicity has kept the facts of
his life in the background, but it is an open secret that much of the
longing of Jude for a college education was drawn from his own
boyhood. It is also a matter of record that as a boy he served as
amanuensis for many servant maids, writing the love letters which
they dictated. In this way, before he knew the real meaning of sex and
the significance of life he had obtained a deep insight into the
nature of women, which served him in good stead when he came to draw
his heroines. All his women are made up of mingled tenderness and
caprice, and though female critics of his work may claim that these
traits are over-drawn, no man ever feels like dissecting Hardy's
women, for the reason that they are so charmingly feminine.
One may fancy that Hardy took great delight in his architectural work,
for it required many excursions to old churches in Dorsetshire to see
whether they were worth restoring. When he was thirty-one Hardy
decided to abandon architecture for fiction. His first novel,
_Desperate Remedies_, was crude, but it is interesting as showing the
novelist in his first attempts to reveal real life and character. His
second book, _Under the Greenwood Tree_, is a charming love story, and
_A Pair of Blue Eyes_ was a forerunner of his first great story, _Far
From the Madding Crowd_. It may have been the title, torn from a line
of Gray's _Elegy_, or the novelty of the tale, in which English
rustics were depicted as ably as in George Eliot's novels, that made
it appeal to the great public. Whatever the cause, the book made a
great popular hit. I can recall when Henry Holt brought it out in the
pretty Leisure Hour series in 1875. Three years later Hardy produced
his finest work, _The Return of the Native_. He followed this with
more than a dozen novels, among which may be mentioned _The Mayor of
Casterbridge_, _The Woodlanders_, _Tess of the d'Urbervilles_, and
_Jude the Obscure_.
In taking up Hardy one should begin with _Far From the Madding Crowd_.
The story of Bathsheba Everdene's relations with her three lovers,
Sergeant Troy, Boldwood and Gabriel Oak, moves one at times to some
impatience with this charming woman's frequent change of mind, but she
would not be so attractive or so natural if she were not so full of
caprice. His women all have strong human passion, but they are
destitute of religious faith. They adore with rare fervor the men whom
they love. In this respect Bathsheba is like Eustacia, Tess, Marty
South or Lady Constantine. Social rank, education or breeding does not
change them. Evidently Hardy believes women are made to charm and
comfort man, not to lead him to spiritual heights, where the air is
thin and chill and kisses have no sweetness.
In his first novel Hardy lightened the tragedy of life with rare
comedy. These comic interludes are furnished by a choice collection of
rustics, who discuss the affairs of the universe and of their own
township with a humor that is infectious. In this work Hardy surpasses
George Eliot and all other novelists of his day, just as he surpasses
them all in such wholesome types of country life as Giles Winterbourne
and Marty South of _The Woodlanders_. No pathos is finer than Marty's
unselfish love for the man who cannot see her own rare spirit, and
nothing that Hardy has written is more powerful than Marty's lament
over the grave of Giles:
"Now, my own, my love," she whispered, "you are mine, and on'y
mine, for she has forgot 'ee at last, although for her you
died. But I--whenever I get up I'll think of 'ee, and whenever
I lie down I'll think of 'ee. Whenever I plant the young
larches I'll think none can plant as you planted; and whenever
I split a gad, and whenever I turn the cider-wring, I'll say
none could do it like you. If I forget your name, let me
forget home and heaven! But, no, no, my love, I never can
forget 'ee, for you was a good man and did good things!"
_The Return of the Native_ is generally regarded as Hardy's finest
work. Certainly in this novel of passion and despair he has conjured
up elements that speak to the heart of every reader. The hand of fate
clutches hold of all the characters. When Eustacia fails to go to the
door and admit her husband's mother she sets in motion events that
bring swift ruin upon her as well as upon others. At every turn of the
story the somber Egdon heath looms in the background, more real than
any character in the romance, a sinister force that seems to sweep the
characters on to their doom. _Tess_ is more appealing than any other
of Mr. Hardy's works, but it is hurt by his desire to prove that the
heroine was a good woman in spite of her sins against the social code.
What has also given this work a great vogue is the splendid acting of
Mrs. Fiske in the play made from the novel.
In _Jude the Obscure_ Hardy had a splendid conception, but he
developed it in a morbid way, bringing out the animalism of the hero's
wife and forcing upon the reader his curious ideas about marriage.
But above and beyond everything else Thomas Hardy is one of the
greatest story tellers the world has ever seen. You may take up any
of his works and after reading a chapter you have a keen desire to
follow the tale to the end, despite the fact that you feel sure the
end will be tragic. Nothing is forced for effect; the whole story
moves with the simplicity of fate itself, and the characters, good and
bad, are swept on to their doom as though they were caught in the rush
of waters that go over Niagara falls. Hardy's style is clear, simple,
direct, and abounds in Biblical allusions and phrases. In nature study
Hardy's novels are a liberal education, for beyond any other author of
the last century he has brought out the beauty and the significance of
tree and flower, heath and mountain. They may be read many times, and
at each perusal new beauties will be discovered to reward the reader.