Hello, reader. I've decided to ever-so-tentatively dip my toe in the pool of blogging. My aim is to review, however briefly, books that I read. Perhaps it might inspire someone to pick up a book; otherwise, I'm perfectly happy to have this as my own record of what I've read. So, without further ado...
"Well, as my views changed my course became very depressing. I found that I was trying to be like people who had hardly anything in common with myself. I was endeavouring to put off one sort of life for another sort of life, which was not any better than the life I had known before. It was simply different."
- Clym Yeobright, The Return of the Native
There's a moment in the film The History Boys (yes, book blog, I realize I'm already getting off track) in which one character expresses the wonder of reading something written long ago that speaks directly to you, likening it to a hand coming up through the page to grasp your own. I felt something akin to that upon reading Clym's words above, as sometimes I feel I am living in a world that is so different from where I grew up, and outwardly "better" perhaps (much like Paris is for Clym), yet in some respects not so.
But perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. The Return of the Native is Hardy (cue groan), one of the more intimidating writers, not for his language (which is often quite engaging, even amusing), but more for his themes - misery on the heath doesn't exactly inspire one to run down to the library. And that's unfortunate, because if you can get past the fact that things aren't exactly rosy in Hardy's world, there's a lot to be said for it.
The titular native is the previously-quoted Clym Yeobright, a clever and industrious young man who has become dissatisfied with his lot as a diamond merchant in Paris, and has decided to return to his home in rural England to teach. His resolve to do so, despite his mother's protests, is strengthened when he meets the bewitching Eustacia Vye. Eustacia longs to escape the heath for somewhere more cosmopolitan (you can already see how this is going to be a problem, yes?). In addition, there is a bit of a love pentagon brewing that also involves a handsome innkeeper, Clym's timid cousin, and the local reddleman (who sells dye for marking sheep). Things go...not so well, as you might have guessed.
I first read Hardy the summer before my senior year in high school: Tess of the d'Urbervilles. I was not looking forward to it, and was surprised to find that it wasn't half-bad. Earlier this year, I read The Mayor of Casterbridge after watching a wonderful television adaptation starring Rome actors Ciaran Hinds, James Purefoy, and Polly Walker. I didn't like Native quite so much as the latter, but it certainly has a lot of fine points. The characters are well drawn, for one. There is not a villain among them, yet selfishness, simple mistakes, and, of course, fate contrive to allow some terrible events to transpire. The plot is not predictable, but always plausible, and although I felt the end to perhaps be a bit much, I can't say it wasn't a pageturner by that point.
Aha, now I'm beginning to discern how it could be difficult to write this blog: I could go off in many directions at this point. I could warn that you may be tempted to roll your eyes at Eustacia's theatrics, or speculate upon the accuracy of casting in the tv movie (another Rome alum, Ray Stevenson, as Clym; Clive Owen as his rival Wildeve), or praise Hardy for his excellent character names (they're uniformly snazzy, yes? I guess after a hard day cutting furze, heath dwellers came home and got pretty creative in the baby name department). I guess I'll settle for mentioning all of these things and elaborating on none; a bit of a cop-out, but it is my first post.
I guess it boils down to this: should you read it? I will say, I don't think you (the generalized you, that is) should be put off by the author. The first 20 pages are a bit of a slog, but after that it's not a difficult read, and you get the pleasure in enjoying the work of someone who really knew how to use words beautifully. If you're doubtful, it may be worth giving the movie a go first (if you don't mind spoilers) - I can't vouch for its quality, having not yet seen it, but this approach worked really well for Mayor. You'll have a streamlined narrative in your head before you read, which should make everything quite easy to follow, and you'll be able to relish all of the details that inevitably were cut to allow a decent running time.
Next up: I've been simultaneously reading Native and rereading childhood favorite The Westing Game, so I may finish that up next; I also have the non-fiction book Red Tails in Love sitting on my shelf.
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