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A review by unisonlibrarian
Thomas Hardy by Claire Tomalin
5.0
Claire Tomalin is fast becoming the epitome of the biographer. Her books are praised far and wide and this one regarding the wonderful Thomas Hardy is no exception. She separates the man from his writing very well but also emphasises the deep connection Hardy has to his creations and the biographical nature of some of the characters and plots surrounding them.
Hardy did not have the fortunate birth of some of his literary contemporaries and was always something of an outsider by nature. Slightly jealous of others noble birth he continually aspired to the gentlemanly nature of the Victorian season dweller. Yet, also he maintained a curious distance to some of the mopre extravagant examples of rich notoriety and kept a dangerous radical streak that he kept hidden from upper-class society until they required release through the wonderful characters in his novels.
He found it difficult to get published initially as many authors do, and always considered himself more of a poet writing fiction professionally. Indeed, the level to which he bowdlerised much of his writing shows us that he wasn’t as protective of his art as some authors can be. Due to the graphic and, at the time, shocking nature of some of the set pieces within his books he would often be required to change endings and plot lines at various points throughout the publication process. His books were serialised first in periodicals of the time, so the changes were not practically difficult but somewhere the intolerant nature of the literary elite must have galled Hardy greatly.
Later in his life, after the publication and reaction to Jude The Obscure Hardy settled in to his poetry and a more solitary existence, reserving his public side for dignitaries and visitors. His troubled wife bore much with regards to his mood swings and in a storyline worthy of one of the man’s novels, Hardy only really appreciated Emma once she had died.
He devoted much time after her death, despite remarrying, on the memory of his late wife writing many, many poems about their life together. Emma is a curious figure throughout the book and it’s fair to say that Tomalin is a little hard on her. She ridicules Emma’s own attempts at writing (“readable, but nothing more”), and traduces her early assistance to Hardy when trying to be published. Surely her encouragement must have kept him going in those long weeks waiting for responses from publishers and bouncing back from initial disappointment? Perhaps also if her own literary ambitions had been supported by Hardy in the same way she did his, she may have amounted to more. Perhaps Tomalin thinks Emma should have been grateful to be with such a learned scholar and got on with it rather than having dreams of her own, but this would belie the individuality that Hardy seemed to find attractive in women.
When Tomalin writes about Thomas however, an enormous amount of respect and good feeling pours from the book. It is a beautifully crafted biography about a fascinating man whose life will no doubt fill volumes yet to come.
Hardy did not have the fortunate birth of some of his literary contemporaries and was always something of an outsider by nature. Slightly jealous of others noble birth he continually aspired to the gentlemanly nature of the Victorian season dweller. Yet, also he maintained a curious distance to some of the mopre extravagant examples of rich notoriety and kept a dangerous radical streak that he kept hidden from upper-class society until they required release through the wonderful characters in his novels.
He found it difficult to get published initially as many authors do, and always considered himself more of a poet writing fiction professionally. Indeed, the level to which he bowdlerised much of his writing shows us that he wasn’t as protective of his art as some authors can be. Due to the graphic and, at the time, shocking nature of some of the set pieces within his books he would often be required to change endings and plot lines at various points throughout the publication process. His books were serialised first in periodicals of the time, so the changes were not practically difficult but somewhere the intolerant nature of the literary elite must have galled Hardy greatly.
Later in his life, after the publication and reaction to Jude The Obscure Hardy settled in to his poetry and a more solitary existence, reserving his public side for dignitaries and visitors. His troubled wife bore much with regards to his mood swings and in a storyline worthy of one of the man’s novels, Hardy only really appreciated Emma once she had died.
He devoted much time after her death, despite remarrying, on the memory of his late wife writing many, many poems about their life together. Emma is a curious figure throughout the book and it’s fair to say that Tomalin is a little hard on her. She ridicules Emma’s own attempts at writing (“readable, but nothing more”), and traduces her early assistance to Hardy when trying to be published. Surely her encouragement must have kept him going in those long weeks waiting for responses from publishers and bouncing back from initial disappointment? Perhaps also if her own literary ambitions had been supported by Hardy in the same way she did his, she may have amounted to more. Perhaps Tomalin thinks Emma should have been grateful to be with such a learned scholar and got on with it rather than having dreams of her own, but this would belie the individuality that Hardy seemed to find attractive in women.
When Tomalin writes about Thomas however, an enormous amount of respect and good feeling pours from the book. It is a beautifully crafted biography about a fascinating man whose life will no doubt fill volumes yet to come.