Book Review: JUDE THE OBSCURE, by Thomas Hardy

I seem to have hit a rough patch with reading lately. Either I have a bad attitude, or the books I've read recently have fallen short--what else could account for the fact that in the past few weeks I, stubborn as can be, have quit one book in the middle (Durrell's Justine), am considering quitting another (how long can I really spend on Sometimes a Great Notion?) and threatened, several times, to drop JUDE THE OBSCURE when I was over three-quarters of the way done?

Either it's the books, or it's me, and as always I'm inclined to point the finger elsewhere.

After all, JUDE THE OBSCURE takes two of the most obnoxious characters I've encountered in a long time and sets them in a tense little drama about the flaws of Victorian society--with particular emphasis on marriage and religion. Every conversation felt forced and hollow, whether it was about the weather or about the foolishness of certain social conventions, and the characters were, as I said, obnoxious and flat. And overly sensitive.

None of this is helped by the fact that most of the issues Hardy raises with marriage have gone in exactly the direction he foresaw (and a whole lot of good it's done us, too), so that the punch is quite taken out of his assertions, though they no doubt shocked many in his day, as the cover of the books suggests.

Do I sound harsh? I suppose I am, and not least because I loved Hardy's The Return of the Native and therefore hoped that JUDE THE OBSCURE (proclaimed by the cover of the book to be Hardy's masterpiece, as well as "The novel that shocked the Victorian world") would be even better. To my taste, it was quite overdone.

RATING: 2

Book Review: THE OLD PATAGONIAN EXPRESS, by Paul Theroux

In 197_, Paul Theroux hopped on a train in Medford, Massachusettes, with an itch to see how far south the train would take him. A few months of tough train travel later, he found himself in Esquel, Patagonia--though obviously, he switched trains often, since no train runs top to bottom on both American continents. The idea was to travel all that distance without ever leaving the ground, since he states several times (and I have to say I agree) that air travel reduces a trip to its destination, rather than allowing it to be a coherent and vivid journey of scenery and experience. Nobody writes about the journey, Theroux protests.

THE OLD PATAGONIAN EXPRESS is solely travel--what it took to get from Medford to Esquel by train--and Theroux is the perfect narrator to tell the story. At first I was put off by his blunt, opinionated attitude and the way he manages to offend or ridicule or stoutly disagree with nearly everyone he encounters, but over time it became endearing. He's the sort of guy a like to read about, but am glad I don't know personally.

I haven't the stamina to go into his sassiness now, though. I'm sorry, but the review is being cut short by sleepiness and the new Ian McEwan novel (in paperback!) that is draped alluringly over the arm of my couch. It beckons to me. I must go.

But I will say first that I really enjoyed PATAGONIAN, even if it seemed to drag on at times (scenery, scenery, scenery, brief dialogue, scenery, commentary on poverty/tourism/your issue here), and I very much enjoyed Theroux's criticism of the books he read while travelling. My reading list has pathetically lengethened after reading this book, as I must now add Pudd'nhead Wilson (Twain), The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym (Poe), some Thomas Hardy poems, and the short stories of Kipling.

I will also add that it was an odd experience to be reading about the South America of thirty years ago, as Theroux's biting prose has undoubtedly marked the way I view certain cities and countries, even though they might be politcally, economically and geographically very, very different now.

(This wasn't short at all.)

RATING: 3

Book Review: THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE, by Thomas Hardy

I came across Hardy via The Catcher in the Rye:

...That doesn't happen much though...You take that book Of Human Bondage, by Somerset Maugham. I read it last summer. It's a pretty good book and all, but I wouldn't want to call Somerset Maugham up. I don't know. He isn't the kind of guy I'd want to call up, that's all. I'd rather call old Thomas Hardy up. I like that Eustacia Vye.

This reference sent me on a mission to find this Eustacia Vye, and find her I did.

THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE is set on a heath (I had to look up what exactly a "heath" is: "...an extensive area of rather level open uncultivated land usu. with poor coarse soil, inferior drainage, and a surface rich in peat or peaty humus"), in Hardy's own little fictional Wessex.

The story goes roughly as follows: Clym Yeobright returns to the heath after several years spent in Paris, to find romance, scandal and tragedy awaiting him. His cousin, Thomasin, has been disgraced by the innkeeper, Damon Wildeve, who is in love with the aloof and haughtily romantic Eustacia Vye, who harbors certain feelings for Clym himself, whose Parisian lifestyle makes him more attractive to Eustacia than any dashing good looks or riches could do. Lurking in the wings is Diggory Venn, the mysterious reddleman who is quite taken with Thomasin but has been rebuffed--nevertheless, he makes it his mission to see her happily wed to Wildeve, if not to himself.

Whew. As you can imagine, this could be updated rather easily to a romantic comedy starring, say, Ben Affleck and Sandra Bullock (though we'd have to fatten her up a bit to make a decent Eustacia Vye).

The many sets of star-crossed lovers and mistaken identities and narrowly missed opportunities make for a fantastic tale of romantic intrigue. Eustacia's lofty air, her idleness and her raven curls are a bit reminicent of Emma Bovary, but in a more frantic, funny way. Hardy uses the weather and the wildlife and the open loneliness of the heath to his story's advantage, setting the lovers' meetings against a pitchblack writhing sky, or a bare, blue one. The characters' feelings toward the landscape itself provide an interesting foundation for their actions and emotions--few things are more dramatic than Eustacia weeping on the heath at midnight, alone.

Also, THE NATIVE has the best chapter titles: "A Coalition Between Beauty and Oddness", "Sharp Words are Spoken and a Crisis Ensues", "She Goes Out to Battle Against Depression", "Rough Coercion is Employed" and more! I loved them, and took to reading them outloud, much to my husband's dismay.

I had little interest in Hardy before reading THE NATIVE, but now I shall go forth and hunt down his other novels, one by one, beginning with either Jude the Obscure (what a great title!) or Tess of D'Urbervilles (not so great--I can't spell that one). I'd rather like to call up old Thomas Hardy myself, though the fact that he's dead does present certain difficulties.

RATING: 4