Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
Bloom's Literary Themes - ymerleksi - home
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234<br />
Thomas Hardy<br />
* * *<br />
Tess, then, is ironically enough Nature’s ‘holy plan’, though strictly<br />
speaking, if she could comment about novel-reading as cited, it is<br />
unlikely she would have been familiar with Wordsworth. ‘She was<br />
not an existence, an experience, a passion, a structure of sensations, to<br />
anybody but herself. She simply existed.’ It is a pity de Beauvoir did<br />
not study Hardy; and he, in turn, might have subscribed to much of<br />
what she wrote in The Second Sex, one passage of which could well be<br />
superscribed over much of Tess:<br />
‘Woman is the victim of no mysterious fatality; the<br />
peculiarities that identify her as specifically a woman get their<br />
importance from the significance placed upon them.’ 9<br />
The existential sanguine is there again when Hardy—once more<br />
somewhat spuriously—attaches a little Sully Prudhomme to his heroine’s<br />
reflections, and remarks that she could ‘hear a penal sentence in<br />
the fiat, “You shall be born”.’ Then after Tess has been betrayed—that<br />
is, after she has ‘fallen’—we are asked:<br />
‘In a desert island would she have been wretched at what had<br />
happened to her? Not greatly. If she could have been but just<br />
created, to discover herself as a spouseless mother, with no<br />
experience of life except as the parent of a nameless child,<br />
would the position have caused her to despair? No, she would<br />
have taken it calmly, and found pleasures therein.’<br />
It is something of a pity Hardy felt he had to make Tess an aristocrat<br />
by birth, for the book is really unconcerned with class, except inasmuch<br />
as that through Alec a rural West Country girl is betrayed by<br />
common trade turned pseudo-squireen. 10 It is a pity if only since it led<br />
D. H. Lawrence into some maddeningly self-indulgent passages on<br />
the novel, in which, however, genuine insights lie buried.<br />
Possibly not meant to be published, and only posthumously so<br />
(in the Phoenix collection edited by Edward D. McDonald), these<br />
pages are rendered almost unreadable by Lawrence’s assumption<br />
that we will all share his love ethic, together with its attendant and<br />
highly arbitrary terminology. Tess is an aristocrat and, for him, ‘has