Nature is one of my favourite elements in a book; whether it is soaring mountain peaks in a fantasy adventure, or the simplistic English countryside in a short but sincere novella, I love seeing the ways different authors present the natural world. I decided to read Far From the Madding Crowd with the expectation that Thomas Hardy would immerse me in the sort of sweeping nature prose I encountered while reading Tess of the D’Urbervilles – with a healthy dash of Victorian melodrama – and I wasn’t disappointed. Nature turned out to be a core characteristic of the novel, one that shapes events and plays a large part in the development of major characters.
Hardy’s novel centres on Bathsheba Everdene, a self-assured young woman who has inherited a farm with plans to run it herself, contrary to the norms of Victorian England. But her plans are soon disrupted by three men, and though they are individually unalike, they each share a passion for Bathsheba that threatens to completely overturn her new life.
Spoilers Ahead.
Nature to Divine and Contrast in Far From the Madding Crowd
With a story as unpredictable as Far From the Madding Crowd, the one thing you can predict with certainty, chapter to chapter, is the changing of the seasons themselves. Each new phase in Bathsheba’s life, though marked by ardent lovers and petty schemes, is also heralded by a change in weather. This seems pretty ordinary for a book which takes place in an agricultural landscape, a location where the weather is not only very noticeable, but integral to the operations of the village of Weatherby. However it also juxtaposes the often erratic actions of the characters at the heart of this drama.
After a particularly vehement outburst by Bathsheba’s second suitor, Mr Boldwood, he “turned his face away, and withdrew, and his form was soon covered over by the twilight as his footsteps mixed in with the low hiss of the leafy trees.” The subdued quality of the field around them stands in stark contrast with the “fury” of Boldwood, as he threatens Troy (suitor number 3). You can almost hear the chilly silence through the pages after this, as Bathsheba stands alone and motionless, reeling from this sudden outburst with only the “low hiss” of the wind moving through the trees.
This scene itself stands in contrast to the first time Boldwood propositions Bathsheba, which takes place on a bright day when the farm is trying to make a lamb “take”:
“…which is performed whenever an ewe has lost her own offspring, one of the twins of another ewe being given her as a substitute. Gabriel had skinned the dead lamb and was tying the skin over the body of the live lamb… the mother and the foisted lab were driven, where they would remain till the old sheep conceived an affection for the young one.”
It is fascinating that Hardy chooses this pastoral scene to accompany Boldwood’s proposal. Rather than the birth of a lamb, with its obvious connotations of new life and fresh beginnings, we have the rather grim image of an lamb being “foisted” onto a mother ewe, covered in the skin of the mother’s dead child, in the almost parasitic fashion of a cuckoo stealing into a nest. Instead, the implications are two fold – that here is Boldwood’s attempt to “foist” himself onto Bathsheba, forcing himself into her life until she manages to “conceive an affection” for him. However it also serves to foreshadow events later in the novel, when Bathsheba uncovers the coffin of Fanny (Troy’s previous lover). Bathsheba herself becomes the imposter lamb, hidden under the shadow of a previous beloved and forcing her way into its place. The imagery of Fanny’s dead child also parallels that of the dead lamb, and drives home the concept that death, while part of the natural order, is not necessarily unavoidable or random.
Nature as Judgement
Despite nature evidently surrounding the events of Far From the Madding Crowd, it’s ignoring the natural world that often lands characters in the most trouble – as Ronald Blyth writes*
“throughout the novel, things go wrong and people get hurt when they forget or neglect the laws and commands of the everlasting circle.” The most potent and literal example of this is when Troy goes to swim in part of the sea enclosed by cliffs:
“Inside the cove, the water was uninteresting to a swimmer, being smooth as a pond, and to get a little of the ocean swell Troy presently swam between the two projecting spurs of rock”.
It’s Troy’s blithe and foolhardy nature that causes him to underestimate the dangers around him, to even consider nature as “uninteresting”, which is also reflected by his boredom at the farm and subsequent desire for adventure. Though he is eventually able to navigate his way to safety via a passing boat, this sequence of events ultimately sets in motion his downfall, by causing his departure to the seas, prolonged absence and eventual return. This return finally sets ablaze the smoldering resentment of Boldwood in the final act – another whose inner ‘nature’ Troy greatly underestimates.
The Fools of Far From the Madding Crowd
Ultimately, nature is always presented as a serious and powerful element, one that dictates the lives of all the laborers of the farm, since their livelihoods depend upon the success of the farm. Those of higher social standing can afford to be idle, but this then gives them time for frivolities or else utter neglect of their duties. The prank valentine Bathseba sends; farmer Bolewood ceasing to look after his farm after being rejected; Troy dismissing the incoming storm and leaving the hay ricks uncovered – these are all examples where the absence of hard work and care leaves central characters unoccupied and prone to rash or impassioned actions. Gabriel (suitor number 1), on the other hand, leans into his agricultural duties in the face of rejection, leaving him less time to indulge in regretting his failed proposal to Bathsheba, and making him the most ‘grounded’ character by the novel’s end.
Fanny, who literally leaves the agricultural world to pursue the folly of her relationship with Troy, arguably pays the worst price. I think it’s no coincidence that she ends up in a workhouse – the very antithesis of farm life, and no doubt an allusion to Hardy’s anti-industrial sentiments, as implied by the title of the book and made much more prominent in Tess of the D’Urbervilles.
Concluding Thoughts
Thomas Hardy takes the concept of nature, something ordinarily thought of as passive and even peaceful, and uses it as an active agent in the making and breaking of his characters. He does this without making it a hurdle for characters to overcome or define by their own terms, as other novels in a nature setting often do. Pastoral elements flow through every chapter of this novel with a sense of dramatic irony; the reader is aware of just how destructive every threat of storm, fire and sea really is, but is left to watch as characters disregard the natural world again and again, much to their own ruin.
What did you think of Far From the Madding Crowd? What do you think the most important theme in Hardy’s work is? Let me know in the comments!
*Quote taken from an essay within the Penguin English Library edition.
