Canter Bridge

I sometimes wonder, trundling along near the end of six decades, how I’ve managed never read Thomas Hardy. Until now.

Prodded on by the marginally satisfactory film version, I downloaded this very English novel. It had me by the throat from its first pages. My wife and I are now, in consequence, listening to a spoken version of Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Thomas Hardy gets quickly to the reader’s heart.

Far from the Madding Crowd is a tragic tale that somehow ends in deep comedy. Only after all its protagonists have loved (nobly or not) on to their own injury does the joyful denouement begin to come into view. Along the way, Hardy shows himself to be the kind of novelist who can capture more human observation in a dependent clause than many of us manage in a lifetime.

I’m hooked.

A reader who doesn’t want to miss one of the English language’s great novelists might find Far from the Madding Crowd a serviceable place to start. This extremely inexpensive digital version makes the beginning an easy expense to bear. Then, read, read, read. Don’t put it down. The night is darkest just before the most splendid of dawns.