Shirley, you don't mean that: A Review

A new year means a new trek through England, and I began my journey on the wild Yorkshire Moors. In British Literature, the Brontë sisters and the Moors are so frequently paired together that it is difficult to imagine one without the other. The two Brontë staples -- Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights -- paint a vivid, Gothic, and even romantic picture of this wasteland. But Jane and Cathy aren't the only Brontë heroines, and I decided that it was time to explore two lesser-known characters in an underrated and relatively unknown novel: Shirley.

The synopsis is fairly simple: wealthy heiress Shirley Keeldar takes up residence in her family home and quickly becomes friends with the rector's niece, Caroline Helstone. These two girls are passionately in love, unbeknownst to them and the rest of the world, with brothers. Shirley is in love with the elder brother, Louis Moore, who was her tutor. Caroline is in love with the younger brother, Robert Moore, the owner of a textile mill. When Shirley arrives, everyone assumes that she will marry Robert -- or one of the other countless suitors -- but she remains single. Both women struggle with loving men who cannot love them in return: Robert cannot love Caroline because he is financially unable to marry (except for money) because of trade restrictions hampering his business, and Louis cannot love Shirley because they are not equals in terms of their fortunes. It became obvious to me early on that both heroines would receive their happy endings, but the journey they took to get there and the depth of this novel is where its true beauty lies.

In a nutshell, Shirley is the story of two women trying to find a way to be with the men they love in the midst of war, class struggles, and family drama. Sounds almost like a Jane Austen novel, doesn't it? In a way, this novel and Austen's novels have a good deal in common. Shirley is Charlotte Brontë's only historical novel; it takes place in 1811, the same year that Sense and Sensibility was published. But once you get past the time period, sensible heroines, and witty characters, the differences become evident. One of the most interesting things about classics which are historical novels is that you get a feel for how that era was viewed during the author's life. In this case, we see how a Yorkshire woman writing in 1849 viewed the Napoleonic Wars and the industrial movement of the early 19th Century.

The good life: reading, drinking bourbon, and watching my husband work on the bike.

To me, the most breathtaking part of this novel is the history. Shirley takes place in a period of growing industrialization stunted by the war with Napoleon, and the subsequent riots within the working class: the Luddite movement. As the novel begins, Robert Moore struggles to keep his textile mill afloat. He seeks to combat this industrial depression by bringing in new machinery that will cut costs, allowing his mill to work more efficiently. The workers, many of whom are dismissed, strike back at Moore, and this struggle between employer and employees set the stage for the rest of the novel. While the Luddite movement was an integral part of domestic politics during the 1810's, it is easy to see where Charlotte is getting her inspiration. One of the quintessential characteristics of the early Victorian Era (and really, the 19th century throughout the Western world) is the struggles and consequential rise of the working class. The year before this novel was published, The Communist Manifesto sparked a revolution with its epicenter in Germany, rippling throughout the entire world. At the same time, Charles Dickens had been discussing the trials of the lower classes beginning in the 1830s until his death in 1870, and Elizabeth Gaskell, who is perhaps the most famous female British author devoted to exposing the working classes struggles, published her first novel just a year before Charlotte published Shirley. So Charlotte Brontë certainly had plenty of inspiration for a historical novel illuminating working class struggles.

Other characteristics of the novel also illuminate important influences on her life. The clergy play a huge role in the direction of the novel, particularly in the form of Caroline's controlling uncle/guardian. Charlotte delves into complex theological matters (a little too deep at times -- it's almost as overwhelming as Tolstoy with his 19th century Russian farming techniques) concerning both the Anglican church and the dissenters, which suggests that her clergyman father discussed theology with his daughters. She generally portrays the clergy favorably but, similar to Austen and her various fictional clergymen, still discusses their foibles at length. But probably the greatest inspiration developed during arguably two of the hardest years in Charlotte's life: 1848 and 1849. Charlotte was the middle of six children. Two sisters died as children, and the other three, Emily, Anne, and the only boy, Branwell, died between September of 1848 and May of 1849. With this knowledge, the characters of Shirley and Caroline are even more appealing to the reader as they are a direct reflection of the grief Charlotte felt. The character of Shirley is based on Emily, and when Caroline becomes so ill that she nearly dies, Charlotte writes the blissful, romantic ending that her sisters would never have.

Charlotte's passion and dedication for the working class and the clergy are immediately evident to the reader, but the real gems are the characters. The heroines are two vastly different women with different needs and desires, and yet they are in virtually the same situation. Shirley's fierceness and philanthropy are reminiscent of Emma Woodhouse and Bathsheba Everdene. She is wealthy, and uses that wealth for good, but she needs a guiding force in her life -- just like these two women received in George Knightley and Gabriel Oak. Caroline, on the other hand, is timid and shy, yet loyal and persistent when it comes to the man that she loves, much like Fanny Price and Amy Dorritt. Nothing would deter these women from loving Edmund Bertram and Arthur Clennam, no matter their vices or foolish mistakes, and Caroline was no different. No matter how cruelly Robert Moore treated her, she knew her own heart and would not be persuaded otherwise. And yet, despite Caroline's sweetness and Shirley's wealth, they cannot achieve happiness on their own.

But despite Shirley's fierceness and Caroline's loyalty, these two heroines offer a striking contrast with Jane Eyre. Over the years, the Brontë sisters have become an icon for feminists. Jane Eyre certainly fits the feminist agenda as she declares: "I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you." (Jane Eyre, Chapter 23) But the characters of Shirley and Caroline are the complete opposite. In fact, the last two chapters of this book discuss how these women are eternally tethered and domesticated to the men that they love -- whether their love is returned or not. Louis Moore is the "keeper" of Shirley, the one who tames her wildness. She says to him:

"Mr. Moore," said she, looking up with a sweet, open, earnest countenance, "teach me and help me to be good. I do not ask you to take off my shoulders all the cares and duties of property, but I ask you to share the burden, and to show me how to sustain my part well. Your judgment is well balanced, your heart is kind, your principles are sound. I know you are wise; I feel you are benevolent; I believe you are conscientious. Be my companion through life; be my guide where I am ignorant; be my master where I am faulty; be my friend always!" (Shirley, Chapter 36)

In the following chapter, Shirley is seen submitting to her husband completely:

He was virtually master of Fieldhead weeks before he became so nominally—the least presumptuous, the kindest master that ever was, but with his lady absolute. She abdicated without a word or a struggle. "Go to Mr. Moore, ask Mr. Moore," was her answer when applied to for orders... In all this Miss Keeldar partly yielded to her disposition; but a remark she made a year afterwards proved that she partly also acted on system. "Louis," she said, "would never have learned to rule if she had not ceased to govern. The incapacity of the sovereign had developed the powers of the premier." (Shirley, Chapter 37)

What a blow to modern feminism! Surely, she can't mean that she "abdicated without a word or a struggle." In a world that condemns a woman sharing her wealth and power to her husband is scoffed, feminist icon Charlotte Brontë's heroine submits everything to her husband. Caroline is different in that she is poor with nothing to give, but she still submits everything to Robert. But I don't think this was Charlotte's point. These two women would not submit to just any man. Shirley will not submit to her tyrannical uncle's demand that she marries one of the wealthy suitors, but she does submit to the man who loves her ardently, tenderly, and wholly. She submits to the man who is worthy of her. Caroline submits to her uncle because he is her guardian, but she would become a governess before marrying and submitting to a man who was not her equal.

My adorable, late-night reading buddies.

Shirley does have a few flaws which are more a flaw of the time and modern literary expectations than a flaw of the novel. For one, Charlotte Brontë loved switching for entire pages into French. Since Robert, Louis, and Hortense Moore were all half-Flemish, they frequently switch between French and English in their dialogue. In 19th Century England, this would not have been a problem as French was commonly taught to the gentry. It was difficult to follow when it would switch back and forth between the two languages without giving a translation.

The other flaw is that the climax is so drawn out that it feels like something was missing at the end. It was a very difficult book to get into for the first half, but the second half flew by because it was filled with excitement. The climax spans almost 100 pages of the novel (out of 300) where you feel it must get resolved soon but the characters simply will not communicate their emotions. I think this is less of a flaw of the novel and more of modern expectations for a spectacular ending with explosions and passionate declarations of love. Technically this novel had plenty of both of those things, but I suppose it was a simpler ending than I expected from such a complex novel.

But that's how this different, and why it is such a splendid work of art. The story flows better than many of its contemporary novels. Charlotte paints a realistic picture instead of trying to make it overly romantic. It isn't Gothic like Wuthering Heights, or dreary like Dickens, or pastoral like Hardy -- but it does incorporate many of these elements into the story to give you a realistic picture. And it is truly a beautiful picture filled with love and loss and longing. Charlotte was able to weave a story that kept the magic of the Moors while adding a painfully realistic romance and a historically accurate fictionalization of the early labor movement. There are so many more details in this novel which I did not discuss, but all of them add volume and character to this already brilliant novel. Why this novel was not more popular, I will never know. But what I do know is that it rekindled my love of the Brontë sisters' works.

And feminists, next time you claim an authoress as your poster child, make sure she doesn't have any skeletons in her closet -- like Shirley.

Pride and Prejudice and Ruined Movies: A Review

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Hollywood ruins every book they look at. The better the book, the worse the film adaptation will be. This is particularly true for period drama in particular, because the writers, producers, and costume designers don’t research the era enough to understand what is proper or fashionable. 

I read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies earlier this month to prepare for the film adaptation starring Lily James, Sam Riley, and, most importantly, Matt Smith. While I questioned the casting of a tall, thin man to play Mr. Collins when he is always described at short and plump, and raised an eyebrow over the numerous explosions in the trailer that did not appear in the book, I still looked forward to the film. But now that I have seen the film, I can say that I was genuinely impressed that Hollywood could ruin a zombie movie.

First, let’s talk about how fantastic the book was. Seth Grahame-Smith took a classic – potentially the most well-known piece of British literature outside of Shakespeare – and created another classic. Zombies are a fad right now. From movies, TV shows, and games to people who too seriously prepare for the zombie apocalypse, zombies are everywhere. Grahame-Smith created a pretty valid explanation to the creation of zombies, added a bit of humor, and turned Elizabeth Bennet into a bad-ass warrior. In fact, he created his own universe where Regency era prejudices still existed, but expanded it to include Oriental training and different priorities, such as staying alive.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies changed very little about the story which Jane Austen penned two hundred years ago. Instead he changed the universe in which the Bennet sisters lived. None of the events actually changed. Lizzy meets Darcy at the ball, Jane is heartbroken when Bingley closes up Netherfield and returns to London, Darcy proposes in Kent and Lizzy rejects him, they meet again in Derbyshire and Lizzy’s opinion of him begins to change, and Lydia elopes with Wickham and Darcy rectifies the situation. Now insert zombies to this mix. Lizzy meets Darcy and then the sisters slaughter the zombies that attacks the ball. Bingley returns to London to attend a conference on how to combat “unmentionables” (zombies) at the encouragement of Darcy when he believes that Jane has been infected. Charlotte Lucas accepts Mr. Collins because she has been infected and she wants to live the rest of her life comfortably. Mr. Darcy proposes and Lizzy rejects him by roundhouse kicking him into the fireplace mantle. Darcy tells Lizzy of Wickham’s ruthlessness, but Lizzy withholds the truth from her sisters. Lizzy meets Darcy again in Derbyshire and Darcy saves Lizzy when zombies attack their party while walking at Pemberley. Lydia elopes with Wickham, and Darcy forces Wickham to marry Lydia by beating him until he is a cripple and the Wickham’s leave for Ireland. Lady Catherine approaches Lizzy and they fight each other, but Lizzy spares Lady Catherine’s life.

What makes this tale even more enjoyable is the splendid integration of Oriental fighting style and culture with Regency England. Darcy and Lady Catherine look down on the Bennet family because they received their training in China, where Japan was the fashionable place to train. Lizzy constantly remembers her training, and that training guides many of her actions. When Darcy informs her of Wickham’s character, Lizzy punishes herself for being so blind to his true character. And, most interestingly, Pemberley is styled in a Japanese style. At first, I questioned the addition of ninjas and throwing stars, but after finishing the novel, I realized that the Oriental influences introduced a unique and appropriate perspective that no western culture could have added.

The story is the same, but with zombies and Oriental architecture. And frankly, it’s brilliant. Elizabeth is just as clever as she was, but now her sword is just as deadly as her words. Lady Catherine is protected by a contingent of ninjas, and Lizzy disembowels them. Darcy insults her, so she fights him. Lizzy has to make difficult choices, like killing her friends, because they are undead. And those decisions makes her into the strong woman that countless people have admired for centuries. All of Austen’s characters are just as Austen intended them, and they come to an end which they deserve, just like Austen sought to do. Jane is shy and Bingley is awkward. Lydia is wild and Mr. Wickham is wicked. Mr. Collins is clumsy and Lady Catherine is condescending. Mrs. Bennet is ridiculous and Mr. Bennet is aloof. Mr. Darcy is proud and Lizzy is prejudiced. Seth Grahame-Smith put swords and muskets in their hands, a different impetus for their actions, and tons of zombies to be annihilated.

Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith put a great deal of thought into these two novels, as I hope I made clear. Austen understood the world in which she lived, and Grahame-Smith understood Austen. Unfortunately, Hollywood did not understand Austen, Grahame-Smith, or the Regency Era. At all. They took a good book and decided that it wasn’t exciting enough. They had to Hollywood-ize it. Make it more glamorous and sexy, when really it’s not a glamorous or sexy novel. It’s a novel about ordinary people protecting themselves and falling in love because two people were equals; Hollywood put the zombie war on steroids and treated romance as a side-story. While it’s going to be extremely difficult to limit myself to just eight things that easily could have made this film adaptation better, here’s where the film failed.

Lizzy would not have done that. Ok, if you’re going to make a film adaptation, you first have to understand the characters, particularly the main character. Lizzy Bennet is a strong, witty woman who can take care of herself. But she also understands propriety. She never would have compromised her values for anything, even a zombie. Meeting Wickham alone in a creepy garden in the middle of the night would have mortified her propriety. Traveling unescorted also would have mortified her. Hollywood thought that they were covering their bases when Charlotte Lucas asked Lizzy to accompany her to Rosings Park with her, but really, either a male family member or a married woman needed to escort both of them. Lizzy certainly could have protected her friend, but their traveling alone would have reconfirmed their inferior birth and morals to Lady Catherine. Lizzy and Jane’s values is what sets them apart from their younger sisters. Hollywood places Lizzy on the same level as Lydia when Lizzy rides off alone with Mr. Wickham to St. Lazarus. The reason why females were considered “damaged goods” after an elopement is that their purity could have been tainted, hence no respectable man would want them anymore. Lizzy would have been suspected of the same taint by accompanying Wickham. Lizzy is no longer morally superior to her sisters, and therefore does not deserve Darcy’s good opinion.

You had ONE JOB. If you ask any Austen fan what their favorite scene in the book/film is, they will probably say the scene where Lizzy and Darcy dance at Netherfield. There’s just so much sexual tension that you can feel, but they continue to gently insult each other. Or they will say when Lizzy and Darcy meet at Pemberley, because Lizzy’s heart is softened to Darcy and Darcy is actually nice. Or when Lizzy discovers how generous Darcy truly is, which leads her to discover that she loves him too but she fears that she will never find true happiness because surely he will not renew his proposal again. But he does and everyone lives happily ever after. These are the things that pretty much anyone who has read Pride and Prejudice will say. But Hollywood said “Oh you like those parts? Let’s not put them in the movie then.” Well, obviously Lizzy and Darcy had to get together at the end, but it wasn’t half as romantic as it could have been. The Netherfield dance is iconic. Lizzy is disappointed because Wickham is not there, and she has to dance with Darcy! What a disappointment! But in the film, Wickham shows up then disappears later, and Darcy asks Lizzy to dance but they never actually show the dance. For an industry that tries to sex-up everything, they eliminate the sexiest scene of the book! The second major elimination, the Gardiner’s trip to Derbyshire, segues into my next point…

People change, but no need to show that. In the book, Darcy’s letter shows Lizzy where she had misjudged him. But even though her heart softened toward him, Darcy changed too. When they met at Pemberley, they could see that the other had changed. Without the mutual changes that occurred, they never would have seen each other in a way that allowed them to fall in love. By removing part of that progression, Hollywood made the romance less believable. In the film, Elizabeth smacks Darcy around after the proposal, and the next time they meet suddenly all of their differences are gone even though they have no idea that the other has changed. If Darcy did not realize that he was being irrational, Lizzy’s change of heart would not have mattered, and if Lizzy did not realize that she was being blind, Darcy’s change of heart would have been insignificant. Instead, Lizzy looks fickle, as if the letter alone made her fall in love with him, and Darcy seems as if he’s the same person he always was. By leaving out half of the romance, they made the love story unrealistic. They needed the time at Pemberley, or time in general other than half a conversation about Lydia eloping, to get to know each other without their previous prejudices in order to fall in love.

Good overcomes evil… and not because of a woman. When Darcy finally discovers what Wickham is really up to, they begin to fight and Wickham seems to be getting the upper hand until Lizzy rides in on her white steed and chops Wickham’s arm off. Since when does Darcy need a woman to save him? And to be fair, since when would Lizzy need Darcy to save her? Darcy and Lizzy are both warriors, the best of the best. But Darcy cannot overcome Wickham? This battle is the epitome of good vs. evil in this film. Darcy is self-sacrificing and Wickham is conniving. Darcy wants to save the human race and Wickham wants to destroy it. While Darcy still saves Lydia, his inability to defeat Wickham implies that he is unworthy of Lizzy. Now they are no longer equals who can defeat any foe who comes their way, but instead the inappropriately feminist portrayal of Lizzy as the savior places Darcy beneath her. The entire reason why Darcy is able to put aside his reservations about Lizzy is because they are equals. And when Lizzy rides in and saves the day, she says that Darcy is not worthy of her. Darcy has to defeat Wickham, or Wickham still wins.

But wait, who is the real bad guy here? There are two antagonists in the story: Wickham and Lady Catherine. Wickham is Darcy’s nemesis because he fails to put him in his place years before when Wickham seduces Georgiana. Darcy places his father’s wishes for Wickham’s future above his own desires to smite Wickham. Lady Catherine is Elizabeth’s nemesis because she dishonors and insults the Bennet family, which Lizzy cannot allow. Elizabeth has to defend her honor, hence demonstrating that she is indeed worthy of Mr. Darcy. Now in the film, Lizzy fights Lady Catherine’s body guard before fighting Lady Catherine herself, and prevails over both her foes. Then seconds later, after Lizzy has proven herself Lady Catherine’s superior, Lady Catherine agrees to take the younger Bennet sisters and Mrs. Bennet to Rosings? The only reason why Lady Catherine would do that is because she feels something for Lizzy, such as respect, when in fact she hates Lizzy because she is a threat. Why on earth did the Bennets need to go to Rosings anyway? They are some of the best-trained warriors in all of England and they run to safety instead of defending their home? Even selfish, immature Lydia had more honor than that. Lady Catherine becomes the good guy, and Wickham becomes the main antagonist. Wickham wants revenge on Darcy, but a plot twist from way out in left field reveals Wickham as the leader of the zombies! Since when does Wickham want more than money from Darcy? He is certainly a fortune-seeking womanizer, but a traitor who wants the human race to die? Unlikely. Wickham never sought power, he sought revenge and money; being the bringer of the apocalypse really isn’t his style.

Enough with the explosions already. Hollywood has to make everything more exciting. Because Darcy making Wickham a cripple and Lizzy kicking the snot out of Lady Catherine wasn’t good enough, they had to add an entire subplot that didn’t exist in the book. Darcy was the commander of the battle for London, in which the zombies continued to overtake the military until their only option was the blow up the final bridge to London and trap all the zombies inside. Apparently all the real military officers were turned into zombies and they had to turn to a civilian for leadership. Lizzy and Darcy make it back across the bridge just in time, leaving the audience sitting on the edge of their seat. This entire subplot was added simply to make it more appealing, because explosions are the only way to make an uninterested viewer more interested. I would have preferred to see Lady Catherine and Lizzy throwing punches and swinging samurai swords over a bridge blowing up.

Guys, this is really confusing. The biggest issue that I had with this movie is that the writing was crap. Half the dialogue made sense, and the other half was pointless. For example, when the Bennet sisters and Mr. Collins are walking to Meryton to see their Aunt Phillips, Lizzy stops to talk to Wickham and he tells her all about why Mr. Darcy cannot be trusted. Apart from the fact that Lizzy was WAY too familiar with a man that she’d met, literally, seconds before, Aunt Phillips calls out for Lizzy to hurry so that they can discuss their trip to the Lake District. Ignoring the fact that Mrs. Bennet’s brother, not sister, invited Lizzy to travel with them, the entire trip to the Lake District was removed from the film. Why was this even mentioned when it wasn’t happening in the film to begin with? Another prime example was when Darcy took extreme curiosity in Jane’s illness, suspecting that she was infected instead of having a simple cold. When Darcy is explaining to Lizzy why he separated Jane and Bingley, he fails to bring this up as a reason for his actions. This is Darcy’s main impetus in the book, and frankly it’s a much better explanation than he gives in the film. The movie script read like they were trying to keep certain things from the book, while completely ignoring something that directly related, and it made the plot infinitely more complicated. Oh, and another point: they never actually mentioned Mary and Kitty's names. They were just these two awkward sisters who were in half the movie but got completely ignored. Kinda rude, if you ask me.

Do you even know what the Regency Era was? Time for my obligatory that’s-not-historically-accurate section. Even though it’s a zombie movie, there are still certain things that easily could have been addressed. First, Lily James may look fantastic in dark blue, but unmarried ladies never wore dark colors. Light colors, particularly white, was a symbol of purity. Likewise, married women rarely wore white. Sorry, Mrs. Bennet. Second, aristocratic men wore primarily white cravats. While military men wore black cravats, Darcy was not a military man, even though they tried to make him into one. And if they really wanted to make him into an Army Colonel, he should have been in uniform on the battlefield. Third, unmarried ladies rarely rode astride. None of the women were shown riding side saddle. And they certainly never would have ridden double ESPECIALLY with a man. I could keep going, but I will refrain.

I am very particular when it comes to period drama, perhaps even too picky. The casting was fantastic and the sets were lovely, but this film could have been a great deal better if they could decide exactly what they wanted to do in the story and stick with it. Unfortunately the writers failed to make the story flow well, and I walked away doubting how Darcy and Lizzy had enough time to really fall in love each other. And even if you change part of the story to make it shorter, costumes and hairstyles do not depend on good writing, for goodness sake.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies was a fantastic book. It was clever and well-written and amusing. The film was “entertaining”, as my husband called it, and if I hadn't read the book I probably would have rather enjoyed the movie. But don’t expect Hollywood to make a good period drama that follows a book, even when it’s a zombie movie. I’ll await the BBC’s adaptation if I want a period drama I can truly enjoy.

A Very Slow Start to the New Year

January 2016 has been one of the slowest months for me, ever. I blame the busyness of the fall months and my need to recharge for the first month of 2016. It's difficult for me to believe that a new year has started, and yet I'm supposed to get started on my goals for this new year? So it's the last day of January and I'm finally getting myself (mildly) organized for the new year. I might be a month late in my planning but better late than never. So here's what 2016 has in store for me here in Oklahoma.

I suppose I should recap on 2015 before I delve into 2016. My best friend and I (along with my mother, who didn't make as much progress, which can be blamed fully on their move) set out to read three different books from different regions in England, and we finished those books in December. I am waiting until I can acquire a copy of the BBC miniseries of Cranford. I haven't forgotten about it, it's just delayed.

Reading England 2015 was such a success for us that we've decided to do the same thing again, with a slight twist. We decided that we need to expand our horizons outside of *just* England a little, so we will be doing Reading Europe 2016. We have chosen three countries: Russia, England, and France. Our first journey will be to Russia, to read Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. Next we will travel back to England to read another Dickens novel to fulfill my yearly Dickens' requirement. And finally we will end in France with an Alexandre Dumas novel. We haven't decided which Dickens and Dumas we will read yet, mainly because my books are scattered between two states, and three different places at present and I haven't had the opportunity to find the books I need.

Outside of reading, I have a few sewing projects I hope to do, including quilting more, curtains for the master bedroom, and a few skirts, if I can find the fabric for them. I might try to paint some of our new home if I can find someone to help me. I also hope to start gardening some this spring. My sweet husband made me raised beds in the fall, and I'm ready to fill them with some veggies. I also hope to plant some more flowers in the front flower beds a little closer to spring. We will see how this goal turns out; in the past I've had a brown thumb, mainly because of my forgetfulness. Otherwise I plan to bask in housewifery and try to keep up with my husband's schedule.

I am very excited for this year. I have a few trips and other small projects planned, and I might even get around to posting a few blog posts about my adventures. But I am mostly excited for reading outside of my comfort zone. It's something I haven't done since college and am eager to do again. What are you planning to read this year? I encourage everyone to read something, even if it's not a classic. And if you don't listen to me, at least listen to Jane Austen: "The person, be it a gentleman or a lady, who has not the pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid."

Far From the Madding Crowd: A Review

Upon visiting the movie theater with my husband, nearly a year ago, I saw a movie poster for "Far From the Madding Crowd", and I was instantly intrigued. Very rarely does Hollywood produce period pieces, and even more rarely do these pieces make it to the movie theater. My excitement grew after doing some research into the film when I discovered that Carey Mulligan, one of my favorite British actresses, was cast to play the role of the heroine, Bathsheba Everdene. After mere seconds of contemplation, I decided to make this book the first stop on my journey of Reading England in the Reading England 2015 Challenge.

The Book

Far From the Madding Crowd is set in a place called Wessex -- originally a region in pre-Norman Britain which Hardy adapted into a fictional land for his books. The geographical equivalent in modern England is the rural county of Dorset. To condense the plot to one sentence, this novel is about a young, attractive woman who has three suitors, all of which are appealing in their own way, but she is too wild, headstrong, and childish to chose one and reject the others. Bathsheba Everdene is the epitome of a child who is trying, desperately, to be an independent woman but doesn't understand the world enough to make mature decisions until the last chapter of the book. So here is a synopsis, in order of the suitors who approach Bathsheba.

Suitor One: Gabriel Oak. The novel begins with Gabriel and Bathsheba meeting when our heroine is working on her aunt's farm near Gabriel's small sheep farm. Gabriel quickly falls in love with Bathsheba; he proposes and is rejected. After his inexperienced sheep-dog drives his flock of sheep over a cliff, thus ruining poor Farmer Oak, he sells the farm and sets off toward the nearest town to find work. As he searches for work, he comes upon a burning barn and he rushes to help put out the flames. He is approached by the owner and asks for a job, only to discover that the owner is Bathsheba, the recent heiress of a large fortune and farm.

Suitor Two: William Boldwood. Bathsheba undertakes the management of the farm herself, a highly unusual occurrence in rural, Victorian England. When she goes to sell grain at a local market, she first encounters Farmer Boldwood -- a wealthy, middle aged, eligible bachelor. She peaks his interest when she send him a valentine with a wax seal saying "Marry Me" as a joke. The besotted man does not understand the joke and begins to pursue Bathsheba. Gabriel chides Bathsheba's behavior, and she fires him. When her sheep get sick and are dying, she is forced to beg Gabriel to come back to help save her flock, which he does willingly.

Suitor Three: Sergeant Francis Troy. Walking home late one evening, Bathsheba bumps into Sergeant Troy and becomes entangled with him. While trying to get her dress untangled, Troy remarks that she was beautiful. Bathsheba rebukes him and hurries away. A few days later, he impresses her with his swordsmanship and her hatred turns into infatuation. Gabriel warns Bathsheba that Troy is a scoundrel, but she takes no heed. They meet in Bath and are married. Upon returning, Sergeant Troy throws a wedding feast; he and all the rest of the farm workers get exceedingly drunk. Gabriel warns Bathsheba that a storm is coming, and the two of them struggle to get the crops covered so that they are not destroyed.

The Troys encounter a girl on the road who Frank discovers to be his lost lover, Fanny Robin. Trying to keep Bathsheba ignorant of the girl, he sends her ahead and gives Fanny some money with the promise of finding her soon. But before they could rendezvous, Fanny dies giving birth to Frank's child. Fanny and child are brought to Bathsheba's estate, as that location was her last place of employment, and Bathsheba's servant informs her of rumors that Fanny and Frank were lovers. Upon opening to coffin, she discovers Fanny, along with her child. Frank enters the room, kisses the corpse, and informs his wife that the dead woman means more to him than she ever will. Frank leaves and goes swimming in the ocean, leaving his clothes upon the sand, and is picked up by a boat. After he fails to return for a year, he is presumed drowned.

Farmer Boldwood renews his attentions toward Bathsheba. On Christmas Eve, Troy returns and confronts Bathsheba at Boldwood's Christmas party. Boldwood shoots Troy and kills him. He is imprisoned for insanity and Troy is buried with Fanny and their child. When Bathsheba's farm is secured, Gabriel informs her of his intention to leave for America. Confused by his intention to leave and desperate to keep him by her side, she confronts him, asking for his reasons, and he admits that her reputation was his main motive. He proposes and they are married.

This novel is more about a child becoming an adult through trials and grief, and less about a good love story. Bathsheba marries Troy out of passion, agrees to marry Boldwood out of convenience and logic, and finally marries Gabriel out of love and respect. Gabriel displays unending devotion, concern for her well-being, and genuine desire for her to succeed and be happy, which Bathsheba is too immature to recognize at the beginning to the book but cannot live without by the end. Gradually she realizes what she needs, not what she wants, and marries the man who completes her inadequacies. 

The Adaptation

I finished this book in April, and was unable to watch the adaptation until last week because no theater in the entire state of Texas was showing it (despite the fact that the local theater had a movie poster up, but you know, details.) Finally, it came out on DVD and an Amazon order was promptly placed. It was worth the wait. This is the best Hollywood adaptation (as opposed to BBC adaptations) that I have ever encountered. They thoroughly botched the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice and did an adequate job with the 2012 adaptation of Great Expectations, and frankly there haven't been many other classic British literature adaptations since then. 

From costuming to sticking to Hardy's original plot line, this adaptation was the level of quality I would expect from the BBC. The minor changes they made were to simplify the story and condense a 500 page book into a two hour film -- all changes that did not alter the plot line, just failed to enhance the depth of the characters.

As this was the first Thomas Hardy novel that I have read, I cannot compare it to his other novels. His writing style is poetic and romantic, similar to other 19th century authors. I thoroughly enjoyed the novel, and the film adaptation as well, and I cannot wait until I can explore more of his works.