Book Review: Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy

maddingcrowdmovie.com

After I saw the trailer for the film based on this novel, I knew I had to read it. I had neither read nor studied anything by Thomas Hardy when I started, so I didn’t know what to expect. What I found was a book written in a style somewhere between Henry Fielding, with its third person omniscient (and sometimes blatant) narration, and Charles Dickens, with a provocative plot that moves you from chapter to chapter. The novel was originally published serially a la Dickens. The best part of Hardy’s writing in this novel was his poetic, rich descriptions of pastoral life in England. There were a few excerpts I read aloud to my dad, knowing that they describe perfectly certain aspects of farming life. This picture of harvest is the closest to real life I’ve ever read:

“Another week passed. The oat harvest began, and all the men were a-field under a monochromatic Lammas sky, amid the trembling air and short shadows of noon. Indoors nothing was to be heard save the droning of blue-bottle flies; out-of-doors the whetting of scythes and the hiss of tressy oat-ears rubbing together as their perpendicular stalks of amber-yellow fell heavily to each swath. Every drop of moisture not in the men’s bottles and flagons in the form of cider was raining as perspiration from their foreheads and cheeks. Drought was everywhere else” (206).

Maybe what I love about that description is the way it still, well over 100 years later, describes the conditions for harvest. Of course, one might have to be driving a very old combine to get the full effect. I did run the C2 Gleaner (made in 1967) when I was in high school, and the cooler on the top of the cap didn’t work, so I would open the little windows on the right side or the door on the left side each time I turned, depending on the breeze!

Anyway, this story revolves around a Miss Bathsheba Everdene, who becomes the heiress of her Uncle’s farm and soon becomes a woman farmer, gracing the local marketplace with her “feminine figure” and grain to sell, something unheard of in mid-1800s England. She has three very different suitors over the course of the novel: one she unintentionally seeks out; one who aggressively seeks her out; and another who seeks her with a beautiful steadfastness. I’ll let you guess who, if any, she ends up with, and end this review with a note about how Gabriel Oak, from whose viewpoint the novel is often told, has become one of my favorite characters in all of literature. He’s right up there with Captain Wentworth and Mr. Darcy! Far from the Madding Crowd is a great love story, and I eagerly await watching this film!

You would like this book if you fit into any of these categories:

  • You are looking for a challenging read. Here is short list of a few of Hardy’s not-so-short words: thesmothete, peregrinations, supererogatory. Not a bit pretentious, even for 1874? Really?
  • You like stories about strong women. Despite a few annoying traits that Bathsheba displays, there are moments in this novel where she shows a strength and level of dignity that I can only dream of.
  • You like stories that have a redemptive quality to them. It all works out in the end.
  • You like nature. The descriptions are gorgeous and edifying.
  • You enjoy plot twists and are willing to suspend your disbelief at times. A few of the plot events are maybe a bit unrealistic, but Hardy was writing in a ROmantic style even if his novel classifies as Victorian realism.
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Book Review: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver

If you’ve never read Kingsolver’s writing, you are missing out on brilliance. The only other book I’ve read by her is Animal Dreams, but The Poisonwood Bible is waiting on my shelf. Those two are fictional (and full of symbols and epic family story lines), but Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is a non-fiction work about Kingsolver’s journey, along with her biology professor spouse and two daughters, to live off the land for a year–to be a locavore. They vowed to only purchase foods grown within a 120-mile radius and from people they knew; in turn, they ended up growing most of their own food.

The thought of no Coca-Cola for a year is not appealing to me, and if my little sister had to go without a bag a Lay’s for a year, she might die. However, the way Kingsolver describes this journey, with its emphasis on getting satisfaction out of manual labor on your own soil, reaping surprise after surprise from your garden, and taking care to plant and grow completely natural plants and animals really spoke to this farm girl’s heart. It also deepened my commitment to learning how to cook with less processed foods, more diverse vegetables and in a way that is friendly to the earth. (One example: the carbon footprint of bananas is ridiculous. Why let the great fruits that are local and in season go to waste while you eat bananas from another continent?) Finding local, farm-fresh meat and dairy is something I hope to accomplish this year. My good friend from too far away, Andi has a farm that sells grass-finished beef, poultry, and pork, among other things, and I truly miss being close enough to support their farm regularly. But, why can’t I find something around here?

As for the style of the writing, I found myself stopping often to sit and digest the metaphorically dripping sentence I’d just read. Sometimes, my reflection ended with a chuckle or a smile. A few parts I had to read aloud to my family, underline for myself, or dogear to copy later for composition class as an example of good essay writing. Kingsolver can make the most simple vegetable sound like an epic hero. Her blend of literary allusion with pop culture references made my mind reel at her talent with the pen. She spoke of food, cooking, home, and family with passion. (That is certainly something that is missing from all the adolescent literature I read!). Here’s just one excerpt for you:

“Some of my neighbors grumble about the trouble of growing potatoes when a giant bag at the store costs less than a Sunday newspaper. And still, every spring, we are all out there fighting with the cold, mucky late-winter soil, trying to get our potatoes on schedule. We’re not doing it for the dimes we’ll save. We know the fifty-pound bag from the store tastes about like a Sunday newspaper, compared with what we can grow. A batch of tender new Carolas or Red Golds freshly dug in early summer is its own vegetable: waxy, nutty, and sweet. Peruvian Blues, Russian Banana fingerlings, Yukon Golds: the waxy ones hold together when boiled and cut up for potato salad; others get fluffy and butter-colored when baked; still others are ideal for over-roasting. A potatophile needs them all.”

Articles from her husband, dealing with each of the abounding political issues Kingsolver’s chapters brought to light encourage the reader to stop for a moment to evaluate how an individual’s food choices can affect the global economy. This format makes the book best read a chapter at a time. So many issues to think about, research further, and discuss with your friends and family! Along with the short essays, Kingsolver’s daughter Camille writes at the end of each chapter from the perspective of a teenager preparing to head to college. She provides recipes and meal planning, based on what is in season in that chapter.

Some would call Kingsolver idealistic. The thought that everyone could live off the land and eat locally is just ludicrous in our fast-paced, global, corporate-driven economy, right? I was a bit skeptical, too. It certainly is a stretch of the mind for people from my area of the state. But, I came away from the book feeling even more strongly that small farms are better than huge farms; local is better than distant; do-it-yourself is better than processed by someone else; and family is something that needs to be nurtured in the best way possible. I think my grandparents and my great-grandparents had the system working quite well. Isn’t that the way America should be? There is a local food movement that is growing, and I hope it will continue to grow. Farmers today would be wise to start planning to cater to those who have the foresight, hindsight, wisdom, and knowledge to see that our food system needs to be changed.

You should read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle for any one of these reasons:
1. You grew up on or currently live on a farm.
2. You like to garden.
3. You care about where your food comes from.
4. You appreciate good writing.
5. You care about the sustainability of the earth as we use it today.
6. You think you might like to garden.
7. You appreciate the simple life (but are willing to work hard!).

Putting a title on these posts is optional. Good. Because I cannot put it into words, try as I may. While walking home tonight, I happened to glance upward and find a clear, clear night sky full of stars. I was compelled to drive out of town to see them better. They did not disappoint.

And, I can’t put it into words. The peace I felt. The awe I felt. And upon further reflection, the love I felt. God created that vast expanse of space that surrounds Earth. Vaster than I can imagine.

Yet. . .

He wants me to know him. How could I be worthy of knowing someone so great and powerful? What merit do I have to make him mindful of me?

I’m not worthy. I don’t have the merit.

Yet. . .

He loves me still.

There are no words.

The Rain

I love rain. I don’t know if it comes from living on a farm, where rain is so important and usually the main topic of conversation with dad, especially on summer mornings, or whether it’s from the imprint that times of drought left on my impressionable young mind. For instance, the summer of 2002, I was preparing to go to college, working out every day on the dusty roads (never to be prevented from doing so by the rain), and the topic of conversation everywhere was our area’s lack of rain. This conversation continued once I got to college and met my teammate Maggie, a ranching girl from Eastern Colorado who could commiserate with me on the subject. That drought almost did some ranchers in!

The best kinds of rains are many. Mid-morning summer showers that occur while birds sing and the sun barely glints through the clouds. Fast and somewhat violent showers that sweep through the fields on a hot, dusty day in July, refreshing everything in its wake, even if there was field work or mowing or baseball games to be done. Evening spring sprinklings that come through just after the barbeque is over and turn into a night full of magnificent thunderstorms, complete with lightning, wind, and booming thunder which keeps you semi-awake all night. Dreary fall drizzles that wet the landscape, making every autumn shade more vivid. And, during any season, I love the rains that come while I’m driving through a city at night, with the wipers running and the lights glowing through the water.

I love rain.

The Wind

It’s one of those blustery, gusting Spring days. The powerful gusts of wind make it much colder outside and louder inside. Compound this wind with the low thick clouds, and you’ve got a recipe for a bit of depression. Usually the wind bugs me. But, today, it’s a wind of anticipation. I’ve tried numerous times to write this emotion down in a poem, but I’ve always failed. Spring winds bring the warm summer days. After a long, cold winter, those days are highly anticipated. That is why Spring winds are so wonderful.

Did you know that Dodge City is actually the windiest city in the U.S.? And I live an hour away from Dodge. I wonder if I’ll ever live in a place where there isn’t much wind.