Far from the Madding Crowd

by Thomas Hardy

cavil

you are pretending!" she said, shaking her head. "Your words are too dashing to be true." "I am not, upon the honour of a soldier."

"honour" -- rolling my eyes hard rn

"Because you are so distracting—and I am so distracted." "You look like it."

Lol

"There is no such sudden feeling in people. I won't listen to you any longer.

Yess girl, don't let him love-bomb you!

Love yields to circumstance.'

That watch has regulated imperial interests in its time—the stately ceremonial, the courtly assignation, pompous travels, and lordly sleeps. Now it is yours."

Watches, clocks, and time-keeping are continually discussed. Oak's large broken clock in the beginning, his ability to track time via the stars, Bathsheba timing his shearing with her watch (under a half hour), Bathsheba being without a watch, and now this

dissembler!"

with an intonation of such exquisite fidelity to nature that it was evidently not all acted now.

Omg now he's really falling for her? Faked it till he made it? Or perhaps her response to him stoked his fickle little desire into something greater?

quiescent,

though his seriousness was less than she imagined, it was probably more th...

A factitious reply had been again upon his lips, but it was again suspended, and he looked at her with an arrested eye. The truth was, that as she now stood—excited, wild, and honest as the day—her alluring beauty bore out so fully the epithets he had bestowed upon it that he was quite startled

Never more beautiful than when she's angry, right?

you are too lovely even to care to be kind as others are." "No, no; don't say so! I have reasons for reserve which I cannot explain."

Is Boldwood her reason for reserve? Or just her private wish not to marry and sacrifice her independence?

"Perhaps in setting a gin, I have caught myself.

Been there, bro.

Well, will you let me work in your fields?" he coaxed. "Yes, I suppose so; if it is any pleasure to you."

Omg, so he's just like the sad sack he described. Just like Oak, willing to do whatever it takes to be in Bathsheba's proximity, even if he doesn't get what he really wants: her devotion

Her heart erratically flitting hither and thither from perplexed excitement, hot, and almost tearful, she retreated homeward, murmuring, "Oh, what have I done! What does it mean! I wish I knew how much of it was true!"

Only way to find out how much of it is true is to pursue the relationship in earnest. And isn't that terrifying?

A process somewhat analogous to that of alleged formations of the universe, time and times ago, was observable. The bustling swarm had swept the sky in a scattered and uniform haze, which now thickened to a nebulous centre: this glided on to a bough and grew still denser, till it formed a solid black spot upon the light.

Just so beautiful

made herself impregnable with armour

In this pursuit and in matters of the heart

At once she heard, not ten yards off, a voice that was beginning to have a strange power in agitating her.

Omg like the audio of Abby from Dance Moms "when all of the sudden, I hear this agitating, grating voice"

she asked, in what, for a defiant girl, was a faltering way; though, for a timid girl, it would have seemed a brave way enough.

So a whimsical fate ordered that her hat should be taken off—veil and all attached—and placed upon his head,

Literally taking off her protective gear and giving it to him. Uh oh

She waited one minute—two minutes—thought of Troy's disappointment at her non-fulfilment of a promised engagement, till she again ran along the field, clambered over the bank, and followed the original direction. She was now literally trembling and panting at this her temerity in such an errant undertaking; her breath came and went quickly, and her eyes shone with an infrequent light. Yet go she must.

Just like when she ran after Oak

She reached the verge of a pit in the middle of the ferns. Troy stood in the bottom, looking up towards her.

Her descent into the pit, guided by Troy. Uh oh

The middle within the belt of verdure was floored with a thick flossy carpet of moss and grass intermingled, so yielding that the foot was half-buried within it.

Caught in a tangle. Oh boy

You are my antagonist, with this difference from real warfare, that I shall miss you every time by one hair's breadth, or perhaps two. Mind you don't flinch, whatever you do."

Like the shearing of the lamb

Now you are not afraid, are you? Because if you are I can't perform. I give my word that I will not only not hurt you, but not once touch you." "I don't think I am afraid. You are quite sure you will not hurt me?" "Quite sure." "Is the Sword very sharp?" "O no—only stand as still as a statue. Now!"

"But how could you chop off a curl of my hair with a sword that has no edge?" "No edge! This sword will shave like a razor. Look here." He touched the palm of his hand with the blade, and then, lifting it, showed her a thin shaving of scarf-skin dangling therefrom. "But you said before beginning that it was blunt and couldn't cut me!"

Just like he has the power to hurt her, and if she's going to try courting with him,she must rely on him to refrain from doing so

It had brought upon her a stroke resulting, as did that of Moses in Horeb, in a liquid stream—here a stream of tears.

A liquid stream? ( . )( . ) like when a woman is aroused?

The circumstance had been the gentle dip of Troy's mouth downwards upon her own. He had kissed her.

What an anticlimactic way to report it

Bathsheba, though she had too much understanding to be entirely governed by her womanliness, had too much womanliness to use her understanding to the best advantage.

Fuck this. Womanliness and good judgment are not mutually exclusive, or two opposite ends of some spectrum. Is Troy considered womanly forcbeing led by his sexual desires? I don't think so

Bathsheba loved Troy in the way that only self-reliant women love when they abandon their self-reliance. When a strong woman recklessly throws away her strength she is worse than a weak woman who has never had any strength to throw away. One source of her inadequacy is the novelty of the occasion. She has never had practice in making the best of such a condition. Weakness is doubly weak by being new.

Holy shit.

And Troy's deformities lay deep down from a woman's vision, whilst his embellishments were upon the very surface; thus contrasting with homely Oak, whose defects were patent to the blindest, and whose virtues were as metals in a mine.

The difference between love and respect was markedly shown in her conduct. Bathsheba had spoken of her interest in Boldwood with the greatest freedom to Liddy, but she had only communed with her own heart concerning Troy.

Good point. It is such a red flag when we hide things about a love interest from our closest confidantes. It's because we instinctively or subconsciously know they are not a good match

intractably.

No Christmas robin detained by a window-pane ever pulsed as did Bathsheba now.

Crazy creative image!

This supreme instance of Troy's goodness fell upon Gabriel ears like the thirteenth stroke of crazy clock.

Clock mentioned!

"Are ye not more to me than my own affairs, and even life!" he went on. "Come, listen to me! I am six years older than you, and Mr. Boldwood is ten years older than I, and consider—I do beg of 'ee to consider before it is too late—how safe you would be in his hands!"

This is so selfless, and should show Bathsheba that Oak's intentions are in the right place. He's not trying to compete with Troy. He simply wants the best for the woman he loves

A distressing explanation of this anxiety to be rid of him at that point now ensued. A figure apparently rose from the earth beside her. The shape beyond all doubt was Troy's.

Sending her into Troy's arms, distressed and seeking comfort from a (devious) man risen from the earth

Gabriel went home by way of the churchyard.

Aaaaand the devious man's saintly foil

froward

"Oh, I love him to very distraction and misery and agony!

"I must let it out to somebody; it is wearing me away! Don't you yet know enough of me to see through that miserable denial of mine?

"Oh, how I wish I had never seen him! Loving is misery for women always. 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."

"I won't notice anything, nor will I leave you!" sobbed Liddy, impulsively putting up her lips to Bathsheba's, and kissing her. Then Bathsheba kissed Liddy, and all was smooth again.

Wish this would just turn into a queer love story tbh

"He is a sort of steady man in a wild way, you know. That's better than to be as some are, wild in a steady way. I am afraid that's how I am.

Do you know, I fancy you would be a match for any man when you are in one o' your takings." "Never! do you?" said Bathsheba, slightly laughing, though somewhat seriously alarmed by this Amazonian picture of herself. "I hope I am not a bold sort of maid—mannish?" she continued with some anxiety. "Oh no, not mannish; but so almighty womanish

I get this

She had walked nearly two miles of her journey, watching how the day was retreating, and thinking how the time of deeds was quietly melting into the time of thought,

What a beautiful and accurate way to conceptualize day and night

tergiversation

punctilios.

supplicate

"I don't throw you off—indeed, how can I? I never had you." In her noon-clear sense that she had never loved him she forgot for a moment her thoughtless angle on that day in February.

Cruel