What do you think?
Rate this book
Far From the Madding Crowd was the first of Hardy’s novels to give the name of Wessex to the landscape of south-west England and is set against the backdrop of the unchanging natural cycle of the year. The story both upholds and questions rural values with a startlingly modern sensibility.
Part of the Macmillan Collector’s Library; a series of stunning, clothbound, pocket sized classics with gold foiled edges and ribbon markers. These beautiful books make perfect gifts or a treat for any book lover. This edition features original illustrations by Helen Allingham and an introduction by Professor Mark Ford.
Gabriel Oak is only one of three suitors for the hand of the beautiful and spirited Bathsheba Everdene. He must compete with the dashing young soldier Sergeant Troy and respectable, middle-aged Farmer Boldwood. And while their fates depend upon the choice Bathsheba makes, she discovers the terrible consequences of an inconstant heart.
Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1874
“All romances end at marriage.”
“It may have been observed that there is no regular path for getting out of love as there is for getting in. Some people look upon marriage as a short cut that way, but it has been known to fail.”
(on the day of Gabriel's and Bathsheba's wedding)
""Faith," said Coggan, in a critical tone, turning to his companions, "the man hev learnt to say 'my wife' in a wonderful naterel way, considering how very youthful he is in wedlock as yet-hey, neighbours all?"
"I never heerd a skilful old married feller of twenty years' standing pipe 'my wife' in a more used note than 'a did," said Jacob Smallbury. "It might have been a little more true to nater if't had been spoke a little chillier, but that wasn't to be expected just now."
"That improvement will come wi' time," said Jan, twirling his eye."
“I am not a fool, you know, although I am a woman, and have my woman’s moments.”
“Women are never tired of bewailing man’s fickleness in love, but they only seem to snub his constancy.”
"I shall never forgive God for making me a woman, and dearly am I beginning to pay for the honour of owning a pretty face." Way to humblebrag, right?
This supreme instance of Troy's goodness fell upon Gabriel's ears like the thirteenth stroke of a crazy clock.
Boldwood: "But do give me your [--] . You owe it to me!"
Bathsheba: "Don't press me too hard. [...] Pray let me go! I am afraid!"
Boldwood: He begged in a husky voice unable to sustain the forms of mere friendship any longer. "Promise yourself to me; I deserve it, indeed I do. Be gracious and give up a little to me."
Bathsheba: The trimmings of her dress, as they quivered against the light showed how agitated she was, and at last she burst out crying. "And you'll not-press me-about anything more?" she sobbed, when she had the power to frame her words.
Boldwood: "Yes, then I'll leave it." Boldwood came close to her side, and now he clasped one of her hands in both his own, and lifted it to his --.
Bathsheba: "What is it? Oh I cannot!" she exclaimed on seeing what he held. "Don't insist Boldwood- don't!" In her trouble at not being able to get her hand away from him at once, she stamped passionately on the floor with one foot, and tears crowded to her eyes again.
Boldwood: "No sentiment- the seal of a practical compact," he said more quietly, but still retaining her hand in his firm grasp. "Come, now!" And Boldwood slipped the -- on her --"
Bathsheba: She said, weeping as if her heart would break. "You frighten me. Please let me go!"
Boldwood: "Only to-night: just to-night, to please me!"
Bathsheba: At length she said, in a sort of hopeless whisper- "Very well, then. I will-to-night, if you wish it so earnestly."
Boldwood: "And it shall be the beginning of a pleasant --?
Bathsheba: "It must be, I suppose, since you will have it so!" she said, fairly beaten into non-resistance.
Boldwood: "Boldwood pressed [his] -- and allowed it to drop in her lap. "I am happy now," he said. "God!"
(Afterward)
He left the room, and when he thought she might be sufficiently composed sent one of the maids to her. Bathsheba cloaked the effects of the late scene as she best could.
“This good fellowship - camaraderie - usually occurring through the similarity of pursuits is unfortunately seldom super-added to love between the sexes, because men and women associate, not in their labors but in their pleasures merely. Where, however, happy circumstances permit its development, the compounded feeling proves itself to be the only love which is strong as death - that love which many waters cannot quench, nor the floods drown, besides which the passion usually called by the name is as evanescent as steam.”