Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Penguin Classics)

Recently, my brother and I were discussing the "poverty penalty," the concept that the poor pay more for what they must buy because they have no bargaining power to invite competition, which drives down prices. This is obviously not a new phenomenon, because poor Tess Durbeyfield pays quite a poverty penalty through the course of Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy.

This is the first novel of Hardy's I have read, but I chose it after reading "What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew" by Daniel Pool, a fabulous book about 18th century daily life.

Hardy's title, as quickly becomes evident, is tongue-in-cheek (he is author of my favorite title of a book, Jude the Obscure, which I haven't yet read) is ironic and mocking. Tess, the lovely and somewhat educated daughter of a cottager in Hardy's British district of Wessex, has the last name of Durbeyfield, but in the first pages of the book, her father, the ne'er-do-well, learns that he is descended from Norman aristocracy, the D'Urbervilles, and there aren't many of them left, except his clan, as the local reverend informs him. He instantly thinks himself very grand and takes it as an excuse to go carousing, which causes Tess and one of her many younger siblings to have to make an early morning journey with the horse for the family's means of making money. Sleeping on the journey, Tess wakes to find the horse impaled in a wreck and killed. Feeling guilty, she agrees to be sent as a poor relation to the Stoke-D'Urbervilles to seek assistance of some kind. (They are "new money" and have bought the name "D'Urberville" to build position for themselves, so they are actually no relation.)

There she encounters Alec D'Urberville, who pursues her vigorously, though she repeatedly eschews his attentions. She takes a job for his mother, watching her fowl, but one evening, separated from her friends in the village on the way home from a Saturday night out in the village, Alec stops accepting no for an answer.

Later she falls in mutual love with a gentleman (the son of a minister) who has rejected the pulpit himself in favor of learning the trade of dairy farming so that he may run his own farm some day. Angel Clare does fall in love with Tess, but at the same time, he doesn't seem to really know her, or want to... he thinks of her as a pure country maid, and has no idea about her past. When she tries to tell him, he shushes her, thinking he knows all about her. When she finally confides in him after the marriage, the results are disastrous and Tess is once again dealing with harsh reality.

I won't recount the rest of the story, but it's clear that the bourgeois (Alec) and the gentry (Angel) have a great deal to do with the pain and hardship of Tess's life; they inflict the poverty penalty on her. The idea of the fluidity of the aristocracy in the 18th century -- Tess is descended from them, but has no rights thereof, Alec has taken the name due to his money, and Angel has rejected the career of his familial role in favor of farming whilst entertaining a very aristocratic (and inaccurate) view of the "peasantry" -- is prominent in the novel, with Tess's inability to care for herself and fulfill her perceived familial goals without resorting to asking for help from those who don't have her bloodline at all. The town of Kingsbere, where Tess's ancestors are said to be buried, figures somewhat in the novel, and one cannot help but think that this symbolizes their use to her as being just as dead as they are.

There are some motifs of paganism in the book... Tess meets Angel for the first time at a May dance, a pagan rite, and she has another climactic plot moment at Stonehenge toward the end of the book. Angel himself seems to reject his father's Christian teachings, and the beliefs of Tess and her society are often deemed superstitious or quaint and encompassing of pagan belief systems. Tess often wishes to be free of her life of burdens, and who can blame her? She didn't cause the horse's death that plunged her into this chain of events, and yet she is punished and punished and punished.

Hardy's writing is beautiful and engaging. The book, though long, seems to quickly move from event to event, and the author's descriptions are enlightening and complete. I really liked this book and look forward to reading more by Hardy.

When Thomas Hardy first had "Tess of the D'Ubervilles" published in 1891, the controversy that surrounded it ensured for him financial security and status as one of the most popular authors of the time. The novel's scandal was concerned with the plot itself, in which an innocent young maid is seduced by an aristocratic cad, and pays for such an indiscretion with everything she holds dear in her life. In Hardy's journal (as recounted in Margaret Higonnet's introduction in this edition) he records that one of the Duchess of Abercorn's dinner parties ended in an argument between those who believed that Tess deserved her fate, and those that sympathized with her plight. However, by today's standards (in which premarital sex barely registers an eye-blink) one can't help but wonder if such a novel is relevant anymore.

I'm going to argue, that yes, of course it is - if not simply to illustrate how lucky we are to no longer live in a world where a woman can be utterly destroyed through the hypocrisy of the society she lives in. However, there's considerably more to it than that, particularly as the remnants of this ideology remain to this day; and since one of the central themes of the novel is the negative effect of past traditions on the present, this bears keeping in mind.

Tess Durbeyfield is a simple country lass, easily manipulated and with a limited education, but with a keen intelligence and insight into human nature. However, when her foolish father is casually told by the village minister that he is the offshoot of a once-noble family, Tess is thrown into her parent's ambition mechanizations. Made to leave her home and younger siblings, Tess begins work tending chickens at a relative's house whilst attempting to ward off the unwelcome attentions of her devious cousin Alec D'Uberville. However, her resolve slips one night when she is alone with Alec, lost and (as the text suggests) intoxicated, and he takes full advantage of her vulnerability.

Having borne his child and lost it soon after (all without Alec's knowledge) Tess seeks employment elsewhere, and finds a sense of peace and security as a milkmaid in a neighboring village. That is, until she meets the parson's son Angel Clare, a very different kind of man from Alec D'Uberville. Falling in love, (along with every other girl on the farm!) Tess finds herself in a new moral crisis. Should she reveal her secret to Angel? Would he accept her if he knew? Her family (not to mention her common sense) warn her to keep her mouth shut, but can any relationship last if it is based on a lie? Shouldn't she have faith in Angel's testimonies of love to her?

However, you've probably already guessed that the story doesn't have a happy ending, and this is a tragedy in the old grand tradition. When young Tess is seduced by a man her fate is sealed. She is a fallen woman, carrying the shame of her indiscretions throughout the rest of her life. However, the novel is remarkable because of Hardy's ability to find light amongst all the grimness. In the depths of Tess's drudgery and despair, we feel her moments of tranquility and appreciation of the beauty that surround her. Likewise, in moments of joy and peace, there is the underlying dread of the secret threatening to rare its ugly head. The emotions stirred in reading this novel are relentless - not to put anyone off from reading this novel, but I was in a constant state of agitation and discomfort in reading; that's how vivid the circumstances of the novel were. I mean that as a good thing of course; books these days are like movies - you sit, you watch, you more often than not feel nothing. But I was truly moved by "Tess of the D'Ubervilles" and her story; and I can't remember the last time I became so invested in a character and her happiness. Despite the pain it brought me in reading it, "Tess of the D'Ubervilles" was worth every agonizing word.

In many ways this is a feminist novel, and although I would hate to put too modern a spin on it, it is very easy to see that Thomas Hardy's sympathies lie with Tess, writing in a letter: "I lost my heart to her as I went on with her history." It is impossible not to feel a swell of indignation when Alec D'Uberville makes Tess swear not to tempt him anymore (as if his lust for her attractiveness is somehow *her* fault!) and a sense of bitter frustration at Angel Clare's inability to accept Tess's indiscretion, particularly when he himself is guilty of the same crime. When his lofty image of Tess as his pure `child-bride' is taken from him, you can't help but feel he's doing it just as much out of injured pride than any sense of propriety.

But this propriety is all-powerful in the novel; a heavy weight upon Tess that destroys her life. Hardy brings forth the idea that this is indeed a fallen world, but that it is so because of mankind's own structures of tradition and circumstance, rather than any divine ordination or original sin. To be free of some of them is a great release, though there are plenty that remain in this and other cultures around the world. The story is one of endurance; enduring the condemnation of others, the physical trials of manual labour, the suffering of a broken heart, the terror of encroaching death. We cannot control any of these aspects of our lives - all we can do is endure them, as Tess did.

This book, while perhaps well written, is just so ridiculous and self-contradictory that it's maddening to read. While it's necessary to forgive him some annoying parts of his style as being a part of his age, one cannot overlook the horrible plot and characterization.
Not one of the characters in the entire book is coherent or believable. He begins with a stereotype--the innocent country lass (Tess), the skeptical intellectual (Angel), the depraved rich dandy (Alec)--describing mainly their appearance and superficial thoughts, so that they never rise above the stereotype. Then, if they stereotype doesn't suit the plot, he'll simply have them act in complete contradiction of their previous shoddy characterization, without any explanation of how they might have changed. Angel's rejection of Tess, for example--he, the skeptical nonconformist who questions conventional social mores, suddenly repudiates Tess for being the victim of a rape, despite his own questionable conduct. I might expect that behavior from a conceited hypocrite, but not the all-around good guy that Hardy has made Angel out to be. And it's not like we've made a discovery here about Angel's real nature, because Hardy goes right on describing him the way he had before. Of course, he takes her back, which is perhaps believable, except that he has not a moment of hesitation when he finds out she murdered Alec. So when your wife tells you she was raped, you leave her, but when she kills someone, you help her to escape without even a second thought?
Then there's Tess. She seems like a pretty resourceful and sensible girl right up to the point where Angel leaves her for a stupid reason and she spends the next five years or whatever pining for him. She writes him one scolding letter, and then regrets it. And even though she can't muster the courage to approach Angel's father, or tell Angel off, or rebuff the advance of Alec--although Hardy describes her as having "natural fearlessness" at one point--she can somehow stab Alec later.
Alec, of course, is the one who first becomes a preacher because someone talks to him on the road, and then gives it up because Tess is just too darn beautiful. You'd think some more convincing would be needed for either conversion, but nope, Hardy can't spare any time for actual character development when he could describe Talbothays again.

Finally, I can take an example from a minor character. At one point in the book Hardy describes Izz Huett, a milkmaid, as "by nature the sauciest and most caustic" of the milkmaids; a mere 20 pages later he describes her as "a girl of tact." Did he read what he wrote before sending it to the publisher?
Aside from the contradictions in every one of his major characters (and a lot of the minor ones too), there are also points in the book that are just plain ridiculous. I mean, Stonehenge? Come on. How cheesy can you get? Not to mention the fact that he sent sixteen cops after them so they could be surrounded in the morning. It's as if he put stuff into his book because he thought it would be cool. Same deal with Angel going to BRAZIL. Also, apparently Angel can pick berries with his whip. Hardy also tends to get carried away with his own writing. He once mentions the plains of Brazil (if by "plains" he meant "rain forest") and describes a cow's "large-veined udders."
Lastly, the book oozes prejudices about country folk and women--mostly to the effect that they're naive and ignorant. In fact, Hardy seems to share the prejudices of Angel Clare. In any case, this book is a lot of reading in return for all the reward of a trashy romance novel.

The whole tragedy is in the fact that I was NOT forced to read this book but actually picked it up because I WANTED to read it (or so I thought at the time). I have read many books in my life, quite a lot of them classics, but I have to say that this book just about drove me bananas. I think there is a general misapprehension in thinking that a classic must be good.
I dare not even think of how many times I probably came close to being committed to an asylum for acting suspiciously on the train while reading "Tess" (every two seconds I would sigh, roll my eyes, scoff or just plain throw my hands in the air from frustration). Many reviewers had rightly pointed out that the character of Tess is the shubbiest excuse of a woman in the whole Solar System. How can anybody, in any age, on any continent, be as spineless and masochistic as she is? This woman is more of a martyr that Joan of Arc, for crying out loud.
The excuse that this book takes place in Victorian England doesn't quite cut it. I saw more strength and backbone in Hester of The Scarlet Letter (which story took place in a much more prudish and puritanical setting than England of 1800's).
I think Thomas Hardy invented himself a woman who would act like his cocker spaniel; no matter how much he beat the crap out of that 'faithfull friend' the poor dog would always come crawling back and lick his boots, which is pretty much how Tess acts throughout the book. The whole scenario smacks a lot of a perverted male fantasy. Maybe Hardy had a nasty mother, who knows. I bet psychiatrists would have a field day with the author.
I am disappointed and feel cheated of the time that I could have used to read something else; Dickens, for example. Or just Maeve Binchy, if I wanted female driven narrative. "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" would have been a much better book if that idiot-of-a-husband and Tess herself would fall into that bloody river in the middle of the book (exactly as Tess wanted it) and have done with it. I know I would applaud such a great ending!
In short: steer way clear of this one.

When I saw the depressing amount of 1-, 2-, and 3-star reviews for this novel, I had to wonder what had gotten into the general populace. Then I read the actual reviews, and realized something. They are reading this for pleasure, yes - but why in the world to people turn to a classic novel for a fast-paced, action-packed story? (Yes, I quote.)

Tess's is a dark tale, a depressing tale, a tale with no perky moments to speak of (seeing as how we all know it'll get that much worse should anything good happen). The language is poetic and ethereal, with descriptions of incredible beauty that I would give anything to have written and an overtone of intense tragedy and ill-fated cruelty. The characters are all conflicted and in turmoil, oppressed by the moral standards of the day, and Tess is likeable, as opposed to Emily Bronte's Catherine Earnshaw, say. I would like to mention that I chose this book to write a ten-page analytical paper on, know it cover-to-cover, and know that it is SO much more meaningfull when one stops to take in the paragraphs that scream, "Pay attention to ME!!!" I would also mention that I am not a college professor. I read this as a high-school freshman, which goes to show that this isn't just a book for the elite.

And in relation to all the readers who feel that Hardy is a bad author? I always believe that people who act as though they can write a classic far better than the author really ought to try their hand at writing a story that will survive the ages as well as Tess. Hardy writes in lyrical prose, in similar style to his poetry, and though I completely understand wanting to read "mind candy", I don't understand expecting books accepted as real literature to do the trick. Maybe try a trashy novel first, and read Tess to cleanse the palate.

This is, ultimately, my favorite novel of all time. Naturally, I have many more to read, but of all those I have tried, I have never read another that so seamlessly combined luminous tragedy, heartwrending romance, and cruel fate in a novel as beautiful as it is painful.

I see "Tess" as the story of how a beauty is wronged by evil and by arrogance.

But oh, what a story. Hardy's novels read like poetry. Tess is so lovely, innocent and good, Alec so relentlessly hideous, and Angel so pathetically self-righteous, that I find the gradual destruction of Tess (with whom I empathize) at the hands of these two men, to be difficult to experience again, line by line!

What a masterpiece of the human condition, and I'm told, of the female experience. Hardy's bitterly honest portrayal of the worst and best of human behavior is as powerful as any I've found in literature.

When I need a Hardy fix and I don't want to be depressed, I turn to "Far From the Madding Crowd."

In a certain light, Thomas Hardy's "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" might be seen as a Cinderella story horribly disfigured by a tragic twist. When we first meet the heroine, Tess Durbeyfield, as a poor, hardworking farm girl who has to take care of her five younger siblings and fulfill the responsibilities abandoned by her inebriated father, she seems like a girl destined for greater things: a brilliant career in a more stimulating occupation, a blissful marriage to a wonderful man. But Hardy likes to illustrate fate's capacity for cruelty, and Tess is merely an innocent woman who is seemingly punished for her innocence.
The name Durbeyfield is a vulgarization of d'Urberville, a family with a rich history descended from Norman knights and wealthy landowners, but various misfortunes have reduced the lineage to the commoners who presently inhabit the impoverished Durbeyfield household. (We learn later in the novel that the Durbeyfields are not the only local family to have suffered this appellative fall from grace.) Although the d'Urberville nobility is defunct, in the near past an enterprising businessman named Stoke sought to increase the prestige of his own family by appropriating a distinguished name from the county annals, and d'Urberville is the one he chose. Thus when Tess, to aid her family's finances after an unfortunate accident deprives them of their income, takes a job tending the fowl at the nearby d'Urberville estate, she mistakenly believes she is working for her relations.
This ostensibly minor detail is really the basis of the irony which drives the novel. Had Mr. Stoke been honest and not assumed the name of the Durbeyfields' ancestors, Tess would not have been likely to meet the lecherous, skulking Alec d'Urberville, who rapes her after she rebuffs his attempted seduction and impregnates her with a baby that dies in infancy. Of course Hardy, evading the risk of censorship, is decorous enough to suggest in the subtlest manner possible that the rape happened rather than describe it explicitly, but Alec's immoral behavior is clearly implied.
Mortified, heartbroken, Tess then goes to work as a milkmaid at a dairy farm where she and a young man named Angel Clare, the heartthrob of several of the farm girls, fall in love. Angel has defied his father, a vicar, by spurning a career in the clergy for agriculture and marriage with a middle class girl for Tess. He scoffs at his parents' snobbery, but after marrying Tess, he reveals a disturbing hypocrisy when she confesses to him the vicious treatment she had received from Alec and its consequences. Angel's reaction is far from the gentle sympathy one would expect from the magnanimous personality he projects; he is disgusted that she has been robbed of her purity and draws a strange parallel between her violation and the fall of her family's ancestral prestige. He rejects her, they separate, and once again she is mortified, heartbroken, and looking for a job.
Tess is destined to rencounter both Angel and Alec before the end of the novel, and the changes to their characters not only advance the plot in unexpected ways but further emphasize Hardy's utilization of irony. The starkly contrasted images of the novel's penultimate scene at Stonehenge and the last scene, which takes place outside a prison where a black flag flies announcing an execution, raise the question of whether even Hardy knew when he started exactly how this somber story would end.
The novel contains several recurring Hardy elements. Like most of his major work, it takes place in the southwestern part of England he calls Wessex, this time in the fertile Blackmoor Vale, and his evocation of the scenery sets the stage beautifully. Tess's co-workers at the dairy farm are a realistically cheerful lot and provide the continuum of humanity that such a story needs as a reprieve for its tragic mood. An interesting touch which shows that Hardy is not above recycling his own motifs is the similarity between the death of the Durbeyfield horse (a definite foreshadowing for Tess) and the tumbling sheep in "Far from the Madding Crowd," in that both incidents cause their respective protagonists to take distant jobs with fateful results. The incentive to read Hardy lies in his ability to put language at the service of one of the greatest functions of literature: to express the deepest desires and emotions of mankind.

(Warning: Tells Plot of the Story)
Through many revisions and editions, Tess of the D'Urbervilles A Pure Woman Faithfully Presented By Thomas Hardy still holds readers captive over a hundred years later. Tess's plight though childhood innocence to womanly revenge is similar to other fairy tales and classic novels. It is said to be a love story for young girls or an adults' treasure of allusions and serious themes. Tess grows up fast, having to deal with the wrongs of mankind, her social class, a noble lineage, and the renewal of her true self. Tess of the D'Urbervilles is a novel that can surpass the ages as a heartbreaking tale for any reader who believes in redemption and compassion for the all-encompassing heroine.

In 19th Century Britain, Tess searches for a little pleasure out of her wronged life. Through many novels, Thomas Hardy has told the stories of characters and flaws. Hardy's insight to a woman's life is remarkable. He shows the injustices women have received and the stereotypes that follow women still today. Without knowing the narrator to be a man, it could easily have been a woman who told this very feminine tale. The book was very controversial at the time of its release in 1891. Parts were censored and seen as obscene because of it's sexual views. Hardy continually revised the story, changing the interpretations of the main characters. He did this through including information on some facts and removing statements on others. Alec D'Urberville could be seen in one edition as only the antagonist, not the villain he is in this version. His alterations lead to the 1912-13 edition that is usually the book available now.

Hardy focuses on many themes throughout the book, mostly on the feminine role and social class. Tess Durbeyfield realizes her social struggle when she caused an accident to happen sending her family into financial need. With the recent discovery of their family's lineage to be that of the once very prominent D'Urbervilles, Tess is sent off to her wealthy relatives. The relatives in reality are not D'Urbervilles, only a family that had taken the name because questionable activity was attached to their old name. Alec D'Urberville realizes Tess's financial need and uses it against her to join him at his mother's estate. Gender roles are brought up when Joan Durbeyfield, Tess's mother, believes that "her face" (53) is her one advantage. Only D'Urbervilles advantage is greater. He holds the blackmail of economic need over Tess's head until he eventually takes advantage of her. "An immeasurable chasm was to divide our heroine's personality thereafter from that previous self of hers who stepped from her mother's door to try her fortune at Trantridge poultry-farm" (74). The pregnant Tess, as an unmarried woman isolated from others, escapes home to have her baby. Tess tries her hand as a field worker where women "were the most interesting of this company of binders, by reason of the charm which is acquired by woman when she becomes part and parcel of outdoor nature" "A field-man is a personality afield; a field-woman is a portion of the field" (87-89). Roles are defined by gender again as women being earthly and beautiful, men having no goodness, and in the end the man still gets the better of the woman.

Tess's baby dies, leaving her to start over at Talbothay's Dairy. Finding real love in Angel Care, he convinces Tess to marry him. She tries to tell him of her past only to have him refuse to hear her each time. After their wedding, Clare admits his previous sexual experience asking for forgiveness and receiving it. When Tess relates her story, he can no longer be with her, claiming that "forgiveness does not apply to the case. You were one person; now you are another" (228) "the woman I have been loving is not you" (229). Men's double standards are shown. Clare leaves her for Brazil to decide if they could fix matters. During his long extended absence, Tess is reduced to farm labor. Her father dies and her family is evicted from their home. Her economic welfare falls again into Alec D'Urbervilles hands. His advantage persuades Tess to be his wife because her real husband was never coming back, according to D'Urberville.

Clare came back to find his wife living with D'Urberville. Tess, in a moment of revelation, avenges the wrongs of D'Urberville by killing him. Clare and Tess have a few days of paradise together before she is taken away for D'Urbervilles murder. Tess understands that this is how it has to be. She will be able to die before Clare can despise her again. She dies a fulfilled woman, "'I am ready,' she said quietly" (396).

Besides being a wonderful tale, Hardy's strength in writing merits the book to be an excellent read. Hardy achieves his goal of relating the story of an innocent girl whose life was simple before the villain D'Urberville comes into the story and nearly perfect after he is out of the story. Hardy portrayed his "Pure Woman" with brilliancy and faithfulness. Social class issues are displayed though Tess's country girl nature yet noble lineage. If her family had not been in economic problems, her tragic flaw would never have occurred. She could have lived as a farmer's wife and lived a simple life. The feminine stereotypes and generalizations are represented by the actions of others upon the poetic Tess.

Hardy's background in poetry gives the novel a lyrical quality missing in the books of today's generation. Hardy alludes to several other works of art including Greek mythology, Shakespeare, fairy tales, and the Bible. He utilizes imagery as well. His uncanny imagery creates the entire world of Tess for the reader, down to the little window reflections upon a dress. The extremely detailed and well articulated descriptions can easily be seen in the readers mind. These literary elements are well used and fit the tale accordingly.

Enjoyment would be received from Tess of the D'Urbervilles by those hopeless romantics who value depth to a story and appreciate the British setting. Gender roles and social class issues are blatantly raised with no subtly. Love story or social issue awareness, the beloved heroine, innocent, strong, loving, and pure will reach into one's heart and capture it forever in the world of fairy tales and happy endings.

if i'm being truly honest most 'classics' leave me cold. Pride and prejudice ? Bored me rigid. The amabassadors ? A guaranteed way to induce sleep. Remembrance of things past ? Still only read two of the books...and have no real desire to read more So when i picked up tess i was expecting more of the same. Worthy, intellectual, dull .I was wrong . Tess was a page turner , populist in the best way and strangely, considering cinema hadn't been invented yet , rather cinematic in it's description and creation of scenes . Even the passages that described the countryside add to the overall feel and mood of the book, rather than just describe for describing sake . As for the reviewers who accuses Hardy of being verbose, I can only say that for the time he's positvely Hemingwayesque.

Yes, the book is a little melodramtic and if it wasn't for all the tragedy and downbeat ending you could see it being made into a mini series on tv but frankly.... what's wrong with that ? It's precisely this approachability that lets Hardy get you thnking about issues like women's rights , men and women's relation to each other and predeterminism.

Finally to those that say Angel and Alec's behaviour is inconsistent .I can not agree. Alec is exactly the kind of person who rushes from one passionate extreme to another and Angel is exactly the kind of idealist who has trouble excepting the realities of life and the failings of the average person.

Finally a word on Tess herself .She is one of the sexiest characters i've ever seen written in victorian fiction .It interests me that a man should write such a character and then have her killed as if such beauty (both internally and externally) can't be allowed to exist on the earth becuase of men like him, me and maybe you....

Some great discussions come out of this book. Thomas Hardy has a very distinct style, and uses the environment essentially as another character, so it may be beneficial to at least have some familiarity with England before reading. No one can read this book without having strong opinions about the characters, especially the two main men. This is one of the standout pieces of literature of its time and is well worth the read.