Current read: Tess of the d'Urbervilles

A few weekends ago, my girlfriend and I stopped by the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in downtown Kansas City for their 75th anniversary celebration. The commemoration was three days long and included free admission to their current exhibit feature Art in the Age of Steam, a collection of painting and photography that offered a myriad of ruminations regarding the advent of industrialization and technologically-driven modernity. (This nostalgic subject interests me greatly because it grants a much-needed historical perspective: it's so easy for my culture to forget about yesterday! I suggest reading Steinbeck's novel The Winter of Our Discontent and Hawthorne's short story The Birth-Mark for further discussion of the theme.) Largely, the exhibit struck a somber note; I believe it is a Rob Bell book that points out how the invention of the lightbulb gives mankind the option to divorce himself from the rhythms of day and night, just as a temperature-controlled indoor environment has enabled separation from the hardships (and joys) of four revolving seasons. As railways began appearing in landscapes across America and Europe, many artists responded with lamentation as they saw the New indiscriminately replace the Old, and their works now hanging at the Nelson reveal the prophetic warnings they proffered to a world increasingly entranced by the siren song of Industrialization.

It is here that Tess of the d'Urbervilles is philosophically situated. It deals with a host of themes (as any good novel will), but I have so far appreciated the way that Thomas Hardy considers the approach of the 20th century (and the ideals that would come to define it). He stations two characters, Tess and Angel (both in their early twenties), between a generation still steeped in the decidedly-unscientific superstitions and belief systems of pastoral rusticism, and an ever-encroaching modern culture. And these two characters are ever so confused.

Moreover, it is interesting to read Thomas Hardy as an author in literary suspension. His books were criticized by his genetic society as offensive and immoral, particularly due to his treatment of sex and marriage. Even as he pens biting diatribes of Victorian culture and practices, it seems that he is nearly too modern for his own good, which is to say that he is often pretty un-Victorian himself. Though he isn't quite the experimental morally-relative modernist, he certainly marks a departure from many traits of 19th century literature.

All in all, I'm thoroughly enjoying this book. Portrayal of social hypocrisy is always fun to read, and Hardy presents nature in such glory that somewhere Barbra Kingsolver is at this very moment surely sighing in gratitude.

(And, since I haven't blogged in nearly 6 months, I believe I'll keep typing...)

It is interesting to see how Thomas Hardy uses adjectives (I know, what a lame thing to say). I'm someone who, to a fault, takes words at face value. Where others may think that 'fine' is some sort of red flag when used to answer the question 'how was your day?', I tend to use it frequently because, of course, the word is itself a positive one (meaning anything from 'of high quality' to 'satisfactory'). I'll try to avoid arguments that will surely come across as high-minded and condescending (such as, since words are supposed to be vessels of specific meaning, perhaps we should endeavor to use them to communicate instead of hoping that "I'm just fine" will somehow indicate that there's something wrong): suffice it to say, I tend to trust words as they come to me. However, Hardy often uses adjectives rather loosely in order to create an impression instead of perfect image, as in "the mixed, singular, luminous gloom in which they walked". I read once about how this is very Faulknerian, that he did the same thing. And, I suppose, words are still being used to impart meaning; the meaning comes however when taking a phrase as a whole and not by dissecting words individually. How difficult it must be to achieve this effect without falling into linguistic ambiguity such that the mind cannot extract any meaning! I tend to have the opposite problem of using too MANY words and losing my meaning along the way.

It's good to be reading again! Glad the semester is over....