Works of Thomas Hardy discussion

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The Mayor of Casterbridge
The Mayor of Casterbridge
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The Mayor of Casterbridge: 1st thread: Chapters 1 - 9
First, Jean, thank you for your posts about the Corn Laws of 1815, and the repeal in 1846. I remember hearing about the Corn Laws, but I always forget the particulars of what they were.
Thank you also for your post about Susan Henchard, and also Peter's comment about Hardy calling her "Henchard's wife". We learned much more about Susan in this chapter, including that she is not feeling well. As they approached Casterbridge, Elizabeth-Jane discovered to her alarm that her mother's health was not what it once had been - which made me wonder if Hardy is foreshadowing something here. I'm a little worried about Susan's health now.
I learned a lot about Elizabeth-Jane too. She is very different from her mother's simple ways. She appears to have a curious mind, and observant nature. Susan had perceived for a long time how zealously and constantly the young mind of her companion was struggling for enlargement . . . the desire - sober and repressed - of Elizabeth Jane's heart was indeed to see, to hear, and to understand. How could she become a woman of wider knowledge, higher repute . . .was her constant inquiry of her mother. This is a very interesting mother/daughter pair.
Thank you also for your post about Susan Henchard, and also Peter's comment about Hardy calling her "Henchard's wife". We learned much more about Susan in this chapter, including that she is not feeling well. As they approached Casterbridge, Elizabeth-Jane discovered to her alarm that her mother's health was not what it once had been - which made me wonder if Hardy is foreshadowing something here. I'm a little worried about Susan's health now.
I learned a lot about Elizabeth-Jane too. She is very different from her mother's simple ways. She appears to have a curious mind, and observant nature. Susan had perceived for a long time how zealously and constantly the young mind of her companion was struggling for enlargement . . . the desire - sober and repressed - of Elizabeth Jane's heart was indeed to see, to hear, and to understand. How could she become a woman of wider knowledge, higher repute . . .was her constant inquiry of her mother. This is a very interesting mother/daughter pair.
Thanks Bridget - good catch there! Your comments are always so pertinent. (I always have to be reminded of English Laws at certain dates too, so those in another country would be a mystery!)
Let's move on ... but remember the poem for chapter 4 in Connie's thread first, everyone, and do add your comments. You don't want to miss that!
Let's move on ... but remember the poem for chapter 4 in Connie's thread first, everyone, and do add your comments. You don't want to miss that!
Chapter 5
Following the sounds of the brass band, Susan and Elizabeth-Jane arrive outside of the chief hotel in Casterbridge, the King’s Arms. The blinds of the front room of the hotel are open, and across the street a group of idlers stands surveying the events in the front room of the hotel. Susan encourages Elizabeth-Jane to make some enquiries of this group about Henchard.
Elizabeth-Jane asks an old man in the group what is going on, and he tells her that they are watching a dinner of the foremost men in town, including the councilmen and the mayor, Michael Henchard. Surprised, Elizabeth-Jane and Susan climb the steps across the street, so they can look into the hotel room. Michael Henchard sits at the head of the table within the room, laughing occasionally. His face has matured, and his clothes are fine with jewelled studs. At his right hand is only a glass of water.
As Susan looks at Henchard, she is overcome with emotion and withdraws into the shadows.

“Her mother whispered as she drew near, ”Tis he“” - Robert Barnes - 16th January 1886
Elizabeth-Jane asks her mother if she has seen their relative, and Susan exclaims that she has seen him and now only wants to “go—pass away—die.” Elizabeth-Jane thinks her mother is afraid that Henchard will not want to help them, and says she thought he seemed like a generous man, pointing out his gentlemanly looks and his diamond studs. Susan says he overpowers her, and she doesn’t wish to see him any more.
Elizabeth-Jane is excited by their connection to the mayor, and watches the scene inside with interest. She notices that Henchard’s wine glass is never filled and points this out to the old man in the crowd. The old man says that Henchard is famous for his abstinence from liquor because he had long ago sworn an oath to not drink, for at least another two years. Another old man joins their conversation and the two refer to Henchard as a lonely widower. Elizabeth-Jane asks when he lost his wife, and learns that it was long ago, before he came to Casterbridge. Henchard, the men report, owns the most profitable business in wheat and corn, and has worked his way up to the top of local society.
“Why, my good maid, he’s the powerfullest member of the Town Council, and quite a principal man in the country round besides. Never a big dealing in wheat, barley, oats, hay, roots, and such-like but Henchard’s got a hand in it. Ay, and he’ll go into other things too; and that’s where he makes his mistake. He worked his way up from nothing when ’a came here; and now he’s a pillar of the town.”
However, recently his business has sold a crop of bad wheat.
One of the minor tradesmen seated at the foot of the table in the hotel asks Henchard about the bad bread. Despite this man’s lower social standing, others take up his question. Henchard’s face darkens with temper, but he tells the listeners that they must make allowances for the running of a large business and the poor weather that year.
“If anybody will tell me how to turn grown wheat into wholesome wheat I’ll take it back with pleasure. But it can’t be done.”
He says he has advertised for a manager to help with his business and to prevent such mistakes. When pressed on whether he will replace the poor purchased wheat, he says he would if anyone could tell him how to turn bad wheat into wholesome wheat, but that this cannot be done.
Following the sounds of the brass band, Susan and Elizabeth-Jane arrive outside of the chief hotel in Casterbridge, the King’s Arms. The blinds of the front room of the hotel are open, and across the street a group of idlers stands surveying the events in the front room of the hotel. Susan encourages Elizabeth-Jane to make some enquiries of this group about Henchard.
Elizabeth-Jane asks an old man in the group what is going on, and he tells her that they are watching a dinner of the foremost men in town, including the councilmen and the mayor, Michael Henchard. Surprised, Elizabeth-Jane and Susan climb the steps across the street, so they can look into the hotel room. Michael Henchard sits at the head of the table within the room, laughing occasionally. His face has matured, and his clothes are fine with jewelled studs. At his right hand is only a glass of water.
As Susan looks at Henchard, she is overcome with emotion and withdraws into the shadows.

“Her mother whispered as she drew near, ”Tis he“” - Robert Barnes - 16th January 1886
Elizabeth-Jane asks her mother if she has seen their relative, and Susan exclaims that she has seen him and now only wants to “go—pass away—die.” Elizabeth-Jane thinks her mother is afraid that Henchard will not want to help them, and says she thought he seemed like a generous man, pointing out his gentlemanly looks and his diamond studs. Susan says he overpowers her, and she doesn’t wish to see him any more.
Elizabeth-Jane is excited by their connection to the mayor, and watches the scene inside with interest. She notices that Henchard’s wine glass is never filled and points this out to the old man in the crowd. The old man says that Henchard is famous for his abstinence from liquor because he had long ago sworn an oath to not drink, for at least another two years. Another old man joins their conversation and the two refer to Henchard as a lonely widower. Elizabeth-Jane asks when he lost his wife, and learns that it was long ago, before he came to Casterbridge. Henchard, the men report, owns the most profitable business in wheat and corn, and has worked his way up to the top of local society.
“Why, my good maid, he’s the powerfullest member of the Town Council, and quite a principal man in the country round besides. Never a big dealing in wheat, barley, oats, hay, roots, and such-like but Henchard’s got a hand in it. Ay, and he’ll go into other things too; and that’s where he makes his mistake. He worked his way up from nothing when ’a came here; and now he’s a pillar of the town.”
However, recently his business has sold a crop of bad wheat.
One of the minor tradesmen seated at the foot of the table in the hotel asks Henchard about the bad bread. Despite this man’s lower social standing, others take up his question. Henchard’s face darkens with temper, but he tells the listeners that they must make allowances for the running of a large business and the poor weather that year.
“If anybody will tell me how to turn grown wheat into wholesome wheat I’ll take it back with pleasure. But it can’t be done.”
He says he has advertised for a manager to help with his business and to prevent such mistakes. When pressed on whether he will replace the poor purchased wheat, he says he would if anyone could tell him how to turn bad wheat into wholesome wheat, but that this cannot be done.
The Illustration
Now, you might assume I've chosen the wrong illustration here, but I haven't! Please bear with me and hopefully all will become clear.
Robert Barnes has chosen an emotionally-charged moment to illustrate. Susan and her young daughter overhear the conversation in the adjoining room between Henchard and ... someone — and apparently Susan instantly recognises Henchard's voice. Robert Barnes has bathed the room in mysterious shadows, and we feel that this reunion of Susan and Michael will be a momentous one, and crucial to her well-being, since the reported death at sea of the genial sailor, Newson.
The artist pays attention to detail, showing the restricted space at what seems like a seventeenth-century inn with the table-legs, the guttering candle, the chair, plain flooring, and canopied bed. Our attention however is drawn to the realistic earnest looks on the faces of the women and their sensible but not ostentatious mourning dresses.
This illustration was placed in the original serial at the point I have included it, although it is slightly anticipatory. Philip Allingham explains:
“The third installment begins with "Chapter V (continued)," but, since the moment realised occurs in Chapter VII, the reader must decode the plate proleptically, and then turn back to it when the textual moment arrives. Barnes has signed the plate lower left with his name and "1885", which suggests that he had several weeks at least prior to publication to read and react to the third installment of the novel in proof.”
Presumably then, both Thomas Hardy and Robert Barnes approved of this anticipatory illustration, which relates to what is described in chapter 5. A secret onlooker or eavesdropper equates to Susan and her daughter eavesdropping on the Mayor's dinner from the street - but the illustration shows a similar happening in an interior location, at a slightly later time.
Thomas Hardy is teasing us, and adding another air of mystery!
Now, you might assume I've chosen the wrong illustration here, but I haven't! Please bear with me and hopefully all will become clear.
Robert Barnes has chosen an emotionally-charged moment to illustrate. Susan and her young daughter overhear the conversation in the adjoining room between Henchard and ... someone — and apparently Susan instantly recognises Henchard's voice. Robert Barnes has bathed the room in mysterious shadows, and we feel that this reunion of Susan and Michael will be a momentous one, and crucial to her well-being, since the reported death at sea of the genial sailor, Newson.
The artist pays attention to detail, showing the restricted space at what seems like a seventeenth-century inn with the table-legs, the guttering candle, the chair, plain flooring, and canopied bed. Our attention however is drawn to the realistic earnest looks on the faces of the women and their sensible but not ostentatious mourning dresses.
This illustration was placed in the original serial at the point I have included it, although it is slightly anticipatory. Philip Allingham explains:
“The third installment begins with "Chapter V (continued)," but, since the moment realised occurs in Chapter VII, the reader must decode the plate proleptically, and then turn back to it when the textual moment arrives. Barnes has signed the plate lower left with his name and "1885", which suggests that he had several weeks at least prior to publication to read and react to the third installment of the novel in proof.”
Presumably then, both Thomas Hardy and Robert Barnes approved of this anticipatory illustration, which relates to what is described in chapter 5. A secret onlooker or eavesdropper equates to Susan and her daughter eavesdropping on the Mayor's dinner from the street - but the illustration shows a similar happening in an interior location, at a slightly later time.
Thomas Hardy is teasing us, and adding another air of mystery!
A little more …
Locations
“the chief hotel in Casterbridge—namely, the King’s Arms. A spacious bow-window projected into the street over the main portico … and here Mayor Henchard presided over the corporation dinner”
We know the Kings Arms Inn building - it’s where we have our chat lounge! (If only we could meet there in real life … there is quite a nice public lounge.)

The Kings Arms Hotel, Dorchester, Dorset (as it is today)
It’s a fine old coaching inn, with an impressive entrance portico and bow window. Thomas Hardy wrote some parts of his stories in an upper room there.
Here it is in 1886:
Locations
“the chief hotel in Casterbridge—namely, the King’s Arms. A spacious bow-window projected into the street over the main portico … and here Mayor Henchard presided over the corporation dinner”
We know the Kings Arms Inn building - it’s where we have our chat lounge! (If only we could meet there in real life … there is quite a nice public lounge.)

The Kings Arms Hotel, Dorchester, Dorset (as it is today)
It’s a fine old coaching inn, with an impressive entrance portico and bow window. Thomas Hardy wrote some parts of his stories in an upper room there.
Here it is in 1886:

Working class characters in the street observe the goings-on in the King's Arms, enabling us to observe the various differences in wealth and class in Casterbridge folk.
The marks of the change Henchard has gone through since he stopped drinking are apparent in his position (as mayor), his mannerisms (laughter), and his physical indications of wealth (fine clothes and jewels). He is clearly not drinking alcohol, as he once would have done at any opportunity.
Susan’s reaction to Henchard’s elevated position is one of intimidation and shame. Perhaps she remembers Henchard’s force of character even when he was a lowly hay-trusser, and fears his current power. Or perhaps she is ashamed by the economic and social differences between them, that have resulted from their eighteen years apart.
Elizabeth-Jane, unlike Susan, finds Henchard more appealing because of his position and his obvious marks of wealth. From the crowd, Elizabeth-Jane learns of Henchard’s abstinence from liquor, his loss of a wife in his past, and his profitable business.
All of these details of this information are revealed to be surprisingly accurate for town gossip. Thomas Hardy tends to use this as a device to inform his readers in several of his novels. We often see that the townsfolk (or workers) have access to information and secrets, often before those who the secrets concern.
Henchard’s face darkening with temper shows that he has not lost all of his natural passion. However, in this situation, he responds rationally to the questions about his bad wheat. He says he is seeking a manager, which reveals yet again his tendency to blame others, or the absence of others, when something goes wrong. But it also makes us wonder if he will find one.
The marks of the change Henchard has gone through since he stopped drinking are apparent in his position (as mayor), his mannerisms (laughter), and his physical indications of wealth (fine clothes and jewels). He is clearly not drinking alcohol, as he once would have done at any opportunity.
Susan’s reaction to Henchard’s elevated position is one of intimidation and shame. Perhaps she remembers Henchard’s force of character even when he was a lowly hay-trusser, and fears his current power. Or perhaps she is ashamed by the economic and social differences between them, that have resulted from their eighteen years apart.
Elizabeth-Jane, unlike Susan, finds Henchard more appealing because of his position and his obvious marks of wealth. From the crowd, Elizabeth-Jane learns of Henchard’s abstinence from liquor, his loss of a wife in his past, and his profitable business.
All of these details of this information are revealed to be surprisingly accurate for town gossip. Thomas Hardy tends to use this as a device to inform his readers in several of his novels. We often see that the townsfolk (or workers) have access to information and secrets, often before those who the secrets concern.
Henchard’s face darkening with temper shows that he has not lost all of his natural passion. However, in this situation, he responds rationally to the questions about his bad wheat. He says he is seeking a manager, which reveals yet again his tendency to blame others, or the absence of others, when something goes wrong. But it also makes us wonder if he will find one.
I look forward to everyone's comments up to the end of chapter 5. (Obviously we can also suggest what might be happening in the proleptic illustration.) We'll read chapter 6 tomorrow 🙂

Thank you for the backstory about the illustration, Jean. Pretty sneaky of Hardy! And for the Kings Arms photos. I was having trouble picturing this, and they help.
I found Susan's strong reaction to Henchard interesting and a little surprising. Also, it seems we have another looming threat to worry about: the end of the abstinence oath coming in a short two years ...


Elizabeth-Jane: "She ascended to the top of the steps."
Susan: "She arose, and stepped up to her
daughter’s side as soon as she could do so without showing exceptional eagerness."
Another parallel with Les Misérables:
Monsieur Madeleine came out of nowhere and became a successful entrepreneur in the black bead trade, competing with Whitby jet and German glass. He was helpful but quiet. He preferred to keep unnoticed but was elevated to the position of mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer in spite of himself. He too was harbouring a secret. Just one person and the readers knew who he was, under his assumed name, and that might be his downfall.
Here, Michael Henchard has climbed the social ladder. He too came out of nowhere but kept his identity, as nobody knew his name at the Weydon fair. But he is different from his French counterpart: his behaviour is more noisy (his ambiguous laugh), he wears diamond studs as tokens of his prosperity. Everyone around knows exactly about his vow not to drink, how long, etc. But no one else knows the reason behind this, except Susan, visitors at the fair back then, or the furmity woman, and of course the readers. He has two Achilles heels: his secret and his business, depending on agriculture (good or poor harvesting, reliable suppliers).

I think the issue with the wheat that is ‘off’ plays a significant role in the symbolic nature of his relationship to Susan and Elizabeth-Jane who are now just metres from him. Nature had its way with the poor harvest of wheat. In response to the question ‘what are you going to do to repay us for the last’ Henchard replies ‘’how to turn grown wheat into wholesome wheat I’ll take it back with pleasure’.
I see the issue of the wheat to be reflective of the fact his wife and daughter. Would Henchard live up to his promise to make up for the his bad wheat and take it back? If so, then surely he should take back his wife and child who are now in Casterbridge. How will he respond to seeing them again should they make themselves known to him?
Henchard is confronted with several problems. Can he appease the local townspeople who are upset; what will he do if confronted by his wife and child; will he see his pledge of sobriety to its end? How will he deal with his management of his agriculture in the future?
I truly enjoyed seeing the illustration. As Jean pointed out, there is a proleptic nature to it. While such an illustration may somewhat confuse today’s reader, the Victorians were very used to seeing images of events yet to occur in the plot. The interplay of text and image has — in my opinion anyway — been lost on present day readers who very rarely see a novel that is fully illustrated. We are fortunate to experience what the initial readers of this novel did.

Thanks for the illustration Jean!
This enhances the impression we are gradually getting on Elizabeth-Jane: she is an observer, a watcher, a listener. Like a journalist, she has a talent in mingling with the idlers around and on the stairs, and get some info from the older men - as Peter said, those who are more in a position to deliver accurate information.
She instinctively knows where to stand. If not for Susan who is more emotionally involved she would perhaps have already skilfully asked the whole town.
Great comments everyone. I have family visiting right now, which is why I couldn’t post earlier today. But I’m here reading along and truly enjoying everyone’s posts today! After today’s chapter, I’m even more appreciative of Jean’s post on the Corn Laws.
Connie - Thanks for reminding us of the "Greek chorus" feature, which we noticed before in his other novels where the working community provide a commentary. Peter also picked up on the fact that in this case this comprises the older men; those who remember the history of the town, which is important for the corn law troubles.
Thanks too Peter and Bridget for also expanding on my final point at the end of chapter 4 that the poor corn yields parallels Michael and Susan's marriage. Both need to be fixed, and perhaps we will see how.
Claudia picked up another parallel - a tiny detail how Susan and Elizabeth mounting the flight of stairs to get a good view, mirrors Michael Henchard climbing the social ladder. Lovely!
Thanks Laura, for reminding everyone that in England corn means wheat (and other grains), as we saw in our group read of Far From the Madding Crowd. Great explanation about "grown wheat", but my post on the Corn Laws explains that Henchard might have had no choice in what he bought. There might have been nothing else at the time, so we cannot necessarily criticise this and say he had poor judgement. He argues his case well ... After all he has made a great success of his business.
I have a feeling this is Thomas Hardy telling us once again that we are all in the hands of Fate. Poor Michael! I hope he find a solution ...
Let's read chapter 6.
Thanks too Peter and Bridget for also expanding on my final point at the end of chapter 4 that the poor corn yields parallels Michael and Susan's marriage. Both need to be fixed, and perhaps we will see how.
Claudia picked up another parallel - a tiny detail how Susan and Elizabeth mounting the flight of stairs to get a good view, mirrors Michael Henchard climbing the social ladder. Lovely!
Thanks Laura, for reminding everyone that in England corn means wheat (and other grains), as we saw in our group read of Far From the Madding Crowd. Great explanation about "grown wheat", but my post on the Corn Laws explains that Henchard might have had no choice in what he bought. There might have been nothing else at the time, so we cannot necessarily criticise this and say he had poor judgement. He argues his case well ... After all he has made a great success of his business.
I have a feeling this is Thomas Hardy telling us once again that we are all in the hands of Fate. Poor Michael! I hope he find a solution ...
Let's read chapter 6.
Chapter 6
New people have joined the group observing in the street and among them is a young man who is distinct from the others by his pleasant air and his carpetbag, which marks him as a traveller. He overhears Henchard’s final words about restoring wheat, and stops to write a note, which he gives to one of the waiters at the door of the hotel with instructions to give the note to the mayor at once.
Elizabeth-Jane overhears this interaction and is intrigued by the young man and his Scottish accent, as well as the exchange. The young man asks the waiter to recommend a more moderately priced hotel, and he is directed to The Three Mariners. The young man leaves for the hotel and Elizabeth-Jane sees his note brought to Henchard at the table. Henchard is visibly affected by the note and stays quiet, thinking, as the other men give toasts. Elizabeth-Jane asks her mother what she would like to do, as it is late in the evening. Elizabeth-Jane recommends that they head to The Three Mariners, like the young man, whom she judged to be respectable.
Just after Susan and Elizabeth-Jane leave the crowd outside, Henchard leaves the table and asks the waiter about the young man who sent the note. Seeing that the toasts in the dining room are proceeding merrily without him, Henchard sets off toward The Three Mariners. Henchard buttons his overcoat over his good shirt and attempts to tone down his appearance of wealth to his everyday appearance before he enters The Three Mariners inn, which is joined by a dimly lit passageway to the horse stalls at the back.
New people have joined the group observing in the street and among them is a young man who is distinct from the others by his pleasant air and his carpetbag, which marks him as a traveller. He overhears Henchard’s final words about restoring wheat, and stops to write a note, which he gives to one of the waiters at the door of the hotel with instructions to give the note to the mayor at once.
Elizabeth-Jane overhears this interaction and is intrigued by the young man and his Scottish accent, as well as the exchange. The young man asks the waiter to recommend a more moderately priced hotel, and he is directed to The Three Mariners. The young man leaves for the hotel and Elizabeth-Jane sees his note brought to Henchard at the table. Henchard is visibly affected by the note and stays quiet, thinking, as the other men give toasts. Elizabeth-Jane asks her mother what she would like to do, as it is late in the evening. Elizabeth-Jane recommends that they head to The Three Mariners, like the young man, whom she judged to be respectable.
Just after Susan and Elizabeth-Jane leave the crowd outside, Henchard leaves the table and asks the waiter about the young man who sent the note. Seeing that the toasts in the dining room are proceeding merrily without him, Henchard sets off toward The Three Mariners. Henchard buttons his overcoat over his good shirt and attempts to tone down his appearance of wealth to his everyday appearance before he enters The Three Mariners inn, which is joined by a dimly lit passageway to the horse stalls at the back.
And a little more …
Hardy’s Edits of Locations: The Two Inns' Names
As mentioned before, there are numerous small changes made by Thomas Hardy, and occasionally by his editors, in The Mayor of Casterbridge right until Hardy’s death.
One more major one right at the start happened between being published as a serial and when published in a book edition. The two hotels were then given different names, to match the real life hotels in Dorchester.
The real life name of the best hotel in Dorchester is the “Kings Arms”, but in the serial it was called “The Golden Crown”. A smaller hotel further down the street is called “The Three Mariners”, although in the serial edition the smaller hotel in Casterbridge had been called “The King of Prussia”. Your edition might reflect these earlier names; Laura has already used them.
Yesterday I wrote about the King’s Arms hotel. Thomas Hardy tells us that the Three Mariners was: “about a hundred yards further down … two prominent Elizabethan gables, bow-window, and passage-light could be seen from where he stood …
This ancient house of accommodation for man and beast, now, unfortunately, pulled down, was built of mellow sandstone, with mullioned windows of the same material, markedly out of perpendicular from the settlement of foundations.“
Thomas Hardy goes on to give a description of the inn, which again is so detailed that we can see the architect’s eye here. All the angles are askew from age, as is the inn sign:
“Hereon the Mariners, who had been represented by the artist as persons of two dimensions only—in other words, flat as a shadow—were standing in a row in paralyzed attitudes. Being on the sunny side of the street the three comrades had suffered largely from warping, splitting, fading, and shrinkage, so that they were but a half-invisible film upon the reality of the grain, and knots, and nails, which composed the signboard.”
This sign is perhaps why Thomas Hardy chose to rename his inn to match the earlier real life one, before it was published in book form.
In Dorchester itself, the old “Three Mariners” was an Elizabethan building which was replaced by the one which stands there now later in the 19th century. As we can tell from the words in bold, Thomas Hardy is describing this earlier Elizabethan building in his “Casterbridge”.
Laura has given us a marvellous photo of a black and white Tudor inn in another county. They still exist, dotted all over England, but not all are as impressive as this! In the 1930s there was even a fashion for building semi-detached ordinary residential houses with that facade of Tudor black and white with oak beams, just for show. These are called "mock Tudor".
You may notice that Thomas Hardy uses both words “Tudor” and “Elizabethan” to describe the original “Three Mariners” inn in today’s chapter 6. That’s because the Tudor period (1485-1603) encompassed the entire era when the House of Tudor ruled England, but the Elizabethan era specifically refers to the reign of Queen Elizabeth I (1558-1603) - Elizabeth Tudor - within that period. Essentially, Elizabethan England is a subset of Tudor England, so some but not all features are identifiably Tudor or Elizabethan.
Hardy’s Edits of Locations: The Two Inns' Names
As mentioned before, there are numerous small changes made by Thomas Hardy, and occasionally by his editors, in The Mayor of Casterbridge right until Hardy’s death.
One more major one right at the start happened between being published as a serial and when published in a book edition. The two hotels were then given different names, to match the real life hotels in Dorchester.
The real life name of the best hotel in Dorchester is the “Kings Arms”, but in the serial it was called “The Golden Crown”. A smaller hotel further down the street is called “The Three Mariners”, although in the serial edition the smaller hotel in Casterbridge had been called “The King of Prussia”. Your edition might reflect these earlier names; Laura has already used them.
Yesterday I wrote about the King’s Arms hotel. Thomas Hardy tells us that the Three Mariners was: “about a hundred yards further down … two prominent Elizabethan gables, bow-window, and passage-light could be seen from where he stood …
This ancient house of accommodation for man and beast, now, unfortunately, pulled down, was built of mellow sandstone, with mullioned windows of the same material, markedly out of perpendicular from the settlement of foundations.“
Thomas Hardy goes on to give a description of the inn, which again is so detailed that we can see the architect’s eye here. All the angles are askew from age, as is the inn sign:
“Hereon the Mariners, who had been represented by the artist as persons of two dimensions only—in other words, flat as a shadow—were standing in a row in paralyzed attitudes. Being on the sunny side of the street the three comrades had suffered largely from warping, splitting, fading, and shrinkage, so that they were but a half-invisible film upon the reality of the grain, and knots, and nails, which composed the signboard.”
This sign is perhaps why Thomas Hardy chose to rename his inn to match the earlier real life one, before it was published in book form.
In Dorchester itself, the old “Three Mariners” was an Elizabethan building which was replaced by the one which stands there now later in the 19th century. As we can tell from the words in bold, Thomas Hardy is describing this earlier Elizabethan building in his “Casterbridge”.
Laura has given us a marvellous photo of a black and white Tudor inn in another county. They still exist, dotted all over England, but not all are as impressive as this! In the 1930s there was even a fashion for building semi-detached ordinary residential houses with that facade of Tudor black and white with oak beams, just for show. These are called "mock Tudor".
You may notice that Thomas Hardy uses both words “Tudor” and “Elizabethan” to describe the original “Three Mariners” inn in today’s chapter 6. That’s because the Tudor period (1485-1603) encompassed the entire era when the House of Tudor ruled England, but the Elizabethan era specifically refers to the reign of Queen Elizabeth I (1558-1603) - Elizabeth Tudor - within that period. Essentially, Elizabethan England is a subset of Tudor England, so some but not all features are identifiably Tudor or Elizabethan.
The traveller contacts Henchard via a note. He is unable, because of his lower class position and his newness in town, to address himself to the mayor directly. He is described as having a pleasant air, and Thomas Hardy’s reference here in the second paragraph:
“He was ruddy and of a fair countenance, bright-eyed, and slight in build”
echoes the description of David in the Bible. Perhaps this is a deliberate clue to one of the many way the story could develop. If we remember David’s story in Samuel I: 16. v.12 and 17. v. 42.(view spoiler) , especially since it goes on:
“He might possibly have passed by without stopping at all, or at most for half a minute to glance in at the scene, had not his advent coincided with the discussion on corn and bread, in which event this history had never been enacted”.
We learn the young man is a Scotchman, but not his name. Elizabeth-Jane observes the young man, the note he sends, and Henchard’s reaction, noting all the details very closely. She is intelligent and perceptive. In many ways she behaves more like a mother than a child, to Susan. It is Elizabeth-Jane whose practical side comes out, when she suggests going to The Three Mariners hotel. She takes charge of their situation, because her mother is overcome by Henchard’s presence and position. We do have to wonder at her motivation in choosing the same hotel as the young stranger though. Is is just because it would be less expensive, do we think?
The note is enough to cause Henchard to seek out the young man who wrote it. He adjusts his appearance before going to The Three Mariners, not wanting to show his evident wealth through the quality of his dress and the objects he owns. Casterbridge society assesses characters on their possession and treatment of property: clothes, fashionable items, houses, and furniture.
“He was ruddy and of a fair countenance, bright-eyed, and slight in build”
echoes the description of David in the Bible. Perhaps this is a deliberate clue to one of the many way the story could develop. If we remember David’s story in Samuel I: 16. v.12 and 17. v. 42.(view spoiler) , especially since it goes on:
“He might possibly have passed by without stopping at all, or at most for half a minute to glance in at the scene, had not his advent coincided with the discussion on corn and bread, in which event this history had never been enacted”.
We learn the young man is a Scotchman, but not his name. Elizabeth-Jane observes the young man, the note he sends, and Henchard’s reaction, noting all the details very closely. She is intelligent and perceptive. In many ways she behaves more like a mother than a child, to Susan. It is Elizabeth-Jane whose practical side comes out, when she suggests going to The Three Mariners hotel. She takes charge of their situation, because her mother is overcome by Henchard’s presence and position. We do have to wonder at her motivation in choosing the same hotel as the young stranger though. Is is just because it would be less expensive, do we think?
The note is enough to cause Henchard to seek out the young man who wrote it. He adjusts his appearance before going to The Three Mariners, not wanting to show his evident wealth through the quality of his dress and the objects he owns. Casterbridge society assesses characters on their possession and treatment of property: clothes, fashionable items, houses, and furniture.
We now have a free day, and will read chapter 7 on Thursday 26th June
How are you finding it so far? All these ways the story could go forward ...
How are you finding it so far? All these ways the story could go forward ...



Also, the description of the Inn's sign was fabulous, with the wood grain coming through. All this attention to detail really makes a story for me, and to answer your question, Jean, so far I'm finding it delightful!

Yes, that love of all things old is one of things I most enjoy about Hardy's work!

But, as a good watcher and observer even of things not quite her business, she has noticed the unknown (respectable) young man with ruddy hair and a carpet bag. She has also noticed everything, the note and all. She is acting like a detective, and this keeps the readers on edge.
The Three Mariners' structure and building itself is definitely reminiscent of times long past (Tudor, Elizabethan). The signboard of the Three Mariners, whose weather and seasons have transformed them into a pale imitation of their former selves ("flat as a shadow") is two-dimensional, thin and split, "a half invisible film on the reality of the grain".
"The long, narrow, dimly-lit passage" in the inn (wonderfully described by Thomas Hardy the architect) reminded me of the avenue, "dark as a tunnel" in chapter 4.

And to the Gospel reference as well, so well known that I even did not think of it!

Henchard stood without the inn for a few instants; then lowering the dignity of his presence as much as possible by buttoning the brown holland coat over his shirt-front, and in other ways toning himself down to his ordinary everyday appearance, he entered the inn door.

As Claudia suggests above the two hotels mentioned are yet another way to discover the depths and breadth of Hardy’s style.
It is never a bad idea to consider a person's name, toponyms, and seemingly insignificant historical references when doing a close reading of a passage. In this light I’m wondering if it is a stretch to pause and consider the name of the inn. The Three Mariners. In this chapter we have three sets of people who direct themselves to it.
Henchard, who has lived in Casterbridge, seems to disguise himself before entering the inn. I’m not sure why. Surely the people of the town will recognize him. If his intention is to speak to the mysterious traveller, then the covering coat also does not make sense for the traveller has already seen Henchard during the town meeting. Indeed, the traveller has written a note to Henchard. Might the traveller not expect a response to his note from Henchard?
The second person/group to go to the inn is Susan and Elizabeth-Jane. They, like the traveller, are seeking a comfortable but inexpensive place to spend the night.
The third person to retire to the inn is the traveller, a most interesting person. When he write his hasty note to Henchard we learn two important clues. The first is that the traveller is literate. The second is that the contents of the note piqued the interest of Henchard enough to show a noticeable reaction in his features and create enough interest in Henchard that he goes immediately to the Three Mariners. I think we are being nudged by Hardy to think that these three groups are, or will become intertwined within the story. Mariners. Travellers. They are all travellers. Henchard, Susan, Elizabeth-Jane, and the Scottish man have all travelled to Casterbridge and now to The Three Mariners.
Laura wrote: "I doubt very much he has been duped or restricted in his choice of corn, I think it indicates a far more sinister aspect of Henchard. This "mistake" doesn't point simply to a miscalculation or something out of Henchard's control but a much more serious flaw in his character...."
I think you make an excellent point,Laura, about how sprouted grain is more than useless. It can't even be turned into beer. But I think at this point in the story its too soon to use the word "sinister" to describe Henchard's actions in selling the grain. I'm thinking about the older man Elizabeth-Jane talks to in Chapter 4 and how he describes Henchard:
He worked his way up from nothing and 'a came here; and now he's a pillar of the town. Not but what he's been shook a little to-year about this bad corn he has supplied in his contracts . . .though Mr. Henchard has never cussed me unfairly ever since I've worked for'n, seeing I be but a little small man, and though 'tis not my interest to spak against him, I must say that I have never before tasted such rough bread as hey been made form Henchard's what lately
What that little speech makes me think is that normally Henchard is a decent, fair business man, but this last year he has had bad luck with the crop. Perhaps he didn't store it well, or perhaps the was more rain than expected. We don't know for sure yet. Certainly he is selling sub-par wheat, but there may be more to the story. I'm not ready to call him sinister.
I'm also uncertain connecting the wheat sale and the wife sale. You say Henchard's drunkenness "happened repeatedly", but I would say it happened only occasionally. I'm thinking of Susan's description in Chapter 4 where it says "in her time with him he had been given to bouts only and was not a habitual drunkard". To me that indicates only occasional drinking, though admittedly, when he did indulge in drink his personality worsens, and he makes bad decisions. But then, that happens to many people.
I think you make an excellent point,Laura, about how sprouted grain is more than useless. It can't even be turned into beer. But I think at this point in the story its too soon to use the word "sinister" to describe Henchard's actions in selling the grain. I'm thinking about the older man Elizabeth-Jane talks to in Chapter 4 and how he describes Henchard:
He worked his way up from nothing and 'a came here; and now he's a pillar of the town. Not but what he's been shook a little to-year about this bad corn he has supplied in his contracts . . .though Mr. Henchard has never cussed me unfairly ever since I've worked for'n, seeing I be but a little small man, and though 'tis not my interest to spak against him, I must say that I have never before tasted such rough bread as hey been made form Henchard's what lately
What that little speech makes me think is that normally Henchard is a decent, fair business man, but this last year he has had bad luck with the crop. Perhaps he didn't store it well, or perhaps the was more rain than expected. We don't know for sure yet. Certainly he is selling sub-par wheat, but there may be more to the story. I'm not ready to call him sinister.
I'm also uncertain connecting the wheat sale and the wife sale. You say Henchard's drunkenness "happened repeatedly", but I would say it happened only occasionally. I'm thinking of Susan's description in Chapter 4 where it says "in her time with him he had been given to bouts only and was not a habitual drunkard". To me that indicates only occasional drinking, though admittedly, when he did indulge in drink his personality worsens, and he makes bad decisions. But then, that happens to many people.

The three different parties entering The Three Mariners are indeed three travelers. We do not know Henchard's itinerary eighteen years before. Susan and Elizabeth-Jane have a life full of turbulence and change.
We do not yet know the Scottish accented traveler. He carries a carpet-bag just like Herman Melville's Moby-Dick or, The Whale narrator in chapter 2, titled The Carpet Bag, headed "to Cape Horn and the Pacific" and arriving at the gable-ended Spouter Inn in New Bedford, not quite the poshest one in town too. The carpet-bag has definitely a feel of far-away voyages.
Where is our Scottish guest going to? Why exactly does he want to meet the Mayor of Casterbridge?
Interestingly, the narrative voice insists on the coincidental element. The Scotchman "might possibly have passed by without stopping at all (...), had not his advent coincided with the discussion on corn and bread; in which event this history had never been enacted."

I see Henchard as a man who severely lost his way, as some people who are apt to react over strongly when drinking do. I'm really expecting to see him make amends as I read more.
The Scotchman is an interesting character. Unlike many Hardy characters, he doesn't seem to possess any vices or character flaws - A device that I always believe Hardy uses quite carefully. Will he be the character to glue the whole disaster together?
I also think the 'simple'-ness of Susan quite interesting. Hardy-as-narrator has described her as so. Is this to remove some element of responsibility from Henchard himself and some onto her?

Claudia wrote: "Where is our Scottish guest going to? Why exactly does he want to meet the Mayor of Casterbridge?.
Interestingly, the narrative voice insists on the coincidental element. "
Nice job picking up on the coincidental element, Claudia. Your questions about the Scotchman are my questions as well. I might also add, What did the Scotchman find so interesting about the corn conversation? Does he have an idea to remedy the situation? Thes are the things I'm wondering now.
(I also loved your comparison to Moby Dick. I had forgotten about the carpetbag at the beginning of that novel.)
Interestingly, the narrative voice insists on the coincidental element. "
Nice job picking up on the coincidental element, Claudia. Your questions about the Scotchman are my questions as well. I might also add, What did the Scotchman find so interesting about the corn conversation? Does he have an idea to remedy the situation? Thes are the things I'm wondering now.
(I also loved your comparison to Moby Dick. I had forgotten about the carpetbag at the beginning of that novel.)
Tom wrote: "As I always do, I'm thoroughly enjoying this one. As always, Hardy makes me want to walk out of my little town (in Wessex) and seek the solace and simpleness of country folk.
I see Henchard as a m..."
I'm envious, Tom, of your proximity to the fictional Wessex! How fun to read Hardy and be surrounded by the countryside he describes! You raise great questions about all the characters, who we are just starting to understand. Personally, I have more questions than answers right now. I'm certain Hardy will take care of that in short order!
I see Henchard as a m..."
I'm envious, Tom, of your proximity to the fictional Wessex! How fun to read Hardy and be surrounded by the countryside he describes! You raise great questions about all the characters, who we are just starting to understand. Personally, I have more questions than answers right now. I'm certain Hardy will take care of that in short order!
There are some great comments here!
Tom - I think you’ve put your finger on the crux of the novel at this point:
“I see Henchard as a man who severely lost his way, as some people who are apt to react over strongly when drinking do. I’m really expecting to see him make amends as I read more.”
So do we all! It’s lovely to see you are at the other Northern end of “Wessex” from me - the “Weydon Priors” end rather than the “South Wessex: Casterbridge” end. Together we encompass the entire novel (and yes we are lucky indeed, Bridget. Actually yesterday I heard from another friend in this and other groups, Sue, who used to post local and Hardy news in our group, but sadly she is leaving GR.) I remember being pleased about this when you introduced yourself Tom … which reminds me
Laura - can you introduce yourself here please, so we 'Hardyans' can all get to know a little more about you? Thanks. https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
Kathleen - I love your sweet miniature carpet bag! The mention of carpet bags always reminds me of an occasion when Chris and I were young teenagers and at a residential summer school. There was a fancy dress competition, and we pinched a large carpet from the students' common room, wrapped it round ourselves and went as “the carpet baggers”.
Claudia - How amazing that you highlighted in bold the exact same clause I had, to show Hardy’s foreshadowing. It shows what a master he was, at skilfully and deliberately dropping this in, for us to pick up and zoom in on if we choose.
Tom - I think you’ve put your finger on the crux of the novel at this point:
“I see Henchard as a man who severely lost his way, as some people who are apt to react over strongly when drinking do. I’m really expecting to see him make amends as I read more.”
So do we all! It’s lovely to see you are at the other Northern end of “Wessex” from me - the “Weydon Priors” end rather than the “South Wessex: Casterbridge” end. Together we encompass the entire novel (and yes we are lucky indeed, Bridget. Actually yesterday I heard from another friend in this and other groups, Sue, who used to post local and Hardy news in our group, but sadly she is leaving GR.) I remember being pleased about this when you introduced yourself Tom … which reminds me
Laura - can you introduce yourself here please, so we 'Hardyans' can all get to know a little more about you? Thanks. https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
Kathleen - I love your sweet miniature carpet bag! The mention of carpet bags always reminds me of an occasion when Chris and I were young teenagers and at a residential summer school. There was a fancy dress competition, and we pinched a large carpet from the students' common room, wrapped it round ourselves and went as “the carpet baggers”.
Claudia - How amazing that you highlighted in bold the exact same clause I had, to show Hardy’s foreshadowing. It shows what a master he was, at skilfully and deliberately dropping this in, for us to pick up and zoom in on if we choose.
Peter - What a brilliant theory about “The Three Mariners”! No wonder Thomas Hardy changed the name to match it so soon (and I rather wish the pub in Dorchester was called “The Three Travellers” now, to make it even better!)
Today we will discover another Cratylic name as we learn the name of the Scotchman. Thomas Hardy had crossed out several names in his draft before he thought of this perfect one. It was originally Giles until chapter (view spoiler) , when it then appears as James, remaining in that form. His surname was Stansbie until chapter (view spoiler) . There's also indications in the manuscript that other names had been considered, until Thomas Hardy had finally decided on Henchard's first name of "Michael".
The Christian or forename of the visiting young stranger is Scottish, and just look at the romantic effect of exotic distance conjured up for the Wessex folk, by the Scottish dialect of the surname, "far from ..."
Sadly I need to post my prepared posts for chapter 7 now, so please forgive my just picking out a few to respond to. The dentist awaits, and also my internet keeps dropping out in this heat. My service provider promises to repair it on Saturday, so keep your fingers crossed. But I digress …
Today we will discover another Cratylic name as we learn the name of the Scotchman. Thomas Hardy had crossed out several names in his draft before he thought of this perfect one. It was originally Giles until chapter (view spoiler) , when it then appears as James, remaining in that form. His surname was Stansbie until chapter (view spoiler) . There's also indications in the manuscript that other names had been considered, until Thomas Hardy had finally decided on Henchard's first name of "Michael".
The Christian or forename of the visiting young stranger is Scottish, and just look at the romantic effect of exotic distance conjured up for the Wessex folk, by the Scottish dialect of the surname, "far from ..."
Sadly I need to post my prepared posts for chapter 7 now, so please forgive my just picking out a few to respond to. The dentist awaits, and also my internet keeps dropping out in this heat. My service provider promises to repair it on Saturday, so keep your fingers crossed. But I digress …
Chapter 7
Susan and Elizabeth-Jane enter The Three Mariners after debating about whether or not they can afford to stay in even this modest inn. They are taken to their room where the inn, although old-fashioned and poorly constructed on the outside, is revealed to be clean and well-kept, with a prodigious amount of linen. Susan fears that they cannot afford to stay there, but Elizabeth-Jane insists that they must be respectable. Susan frets that Henchard is “too high” for them to make themselves known to him, and so they have only their own money to depend upon.
Elizabeth-Jane decides to sacrifice her own dignity for the sake of their situation, and so she approaches the landlady with an offer to work at the inn, which is busy that evening, in order to help cover the cost of their accommodation. A bell rings downstairs, and the landlady directs Elizabeth-Jane to take the Scottish gentleman his supper on a tray. Elizabeth-Jane discovers that the young man is in the room next to her and her mother’s. He is reading the local paper when she enters, and she sets down the tray and goes away without a word.
Elizabeth-Jane takes their own supper upstairs, but finds that her mother is listening in on a conversation occurring in the next room. Henchard has called on the young Scottish man, and asks if he is the one who sent the note to him at the King’s Arms. Henchard assumes that the young man must be Joshua Jopp, a man whom he had planned to meet the next day and interview for the position of manager of his business. The Scottish man instead introduces himself as Donald Farfrae, adding that he is passing through town on his way to Bristol, to seek a passage to America.
Henchard is grateful for the note Farfrae gave him, and asks if he would be willing to prove the contents of the note: that he has a method for restoring poor wheat to quality. Farfrae willingly demonstrates the technique with a few grains he has on hand. He is only too glad to pass on the technique to Henchard, if the older man finds it useful. Henchard promptly offers him the position of his business manager. Farfrae, however, refuses, as he is committed to his plan to travel to America.
Farfrae will not accept payment for the technique, and Henchard is even more impressed by such kindness from a stranger, and pleads with Farfrae to accept the post. Farfrae declines, but invites Henchard to drink with him. Henchard says he cannot as he had taken a vow many years ago, after a deed he will be ashamed of for his whole life. The two part ways amicably.
Susan and Elizabeth-Jane enter The Three Mariners after debating about whether or not they can afford to stay in even this modest inn. They are taken to their room where the inn, although old-fashioned and poorly constructed on the outside, is revealed to be clean and well-kept, with a prodigious amount of linen. Susan fears that they cannot afford to stay there, but Elizabeth-Jane insists that they must be respectable. Susan frets that Henchard is “too high” for them to make themselves known to him, and so they have only their own money to depend upon.
Elizabeth-Jane decides to sacrifice her own dignity for the sake of their situation, and so she approaches the landlady with an offer to work at the inn, which is busy that evening, in order to help cover the cost of their accommodation. A bell rings downstairs, and the landlady directs Elizabeth-Jane to take the Scottish gentleman his supper on a tray. Elizabeth-Jane discovers that the young man is in the room next to her and her mother’s. He is reading the local paper when she enters, and she sets down the tray and goes away without a word.
Elizabeth-Jane takes their own supper upstairs, but finds that her mother is listening in on a conversation occurring in the next room. Henchard has called on the young Scottish man, and asks if he is the one who sent the note to him at the King’s Arms. Henchard assumes that the young man must be Joshua Jopp, a man whom he had planned to meet the next day and interview for the position of manager of his business. The Scottish man instead introduces himself as Donald Farfrae, adding that he is passing through town on his way to Bristol, to seek a passage to America.
Henchard is grateful for the note Farfrae gave him, and asks if he would be willing to prove the contents of the note: that he has a method for restoring poor wheat to quality. Farfrae willingly demonstrates the technique with a few grains he has on hand. He is only too glad to pass on the technique to Henchard, if the older man finds it useful. Henchard promptly offers him the position of his business manager. Farfrae, however, refuses, as he is committed to his plan to travel to America.
Farfrae will not accept payment for the technique, and Henchard is even more impressed by such kindness from a stranger, and pleads with Farfrae to accept the post. Farfrae declines, but invites Henchard to drink with him. Henchard says he cannot as he had taken a vow many years ago, after a deed he will be ashamed of for his whole life. The two part ways amicably.
Michael Henchard
At only just over a seventh the way through the book, we can hardly make a reliable summing up of his character. There are 45 chapters! We need to come to this gradually, as events unfold. But just as after chapter 4 I wrote a post about how we could see Susan so far, at chapter 7 this now seems a good place to look at Michael Henchard. Bridget may also have some thoughts to share about his character, as we see it at this point in the book.
The subtitle of The Mayor of Casterbridge is “The Life and Death of a Man of Character”. We know by now that Michael Henchard, the Mayor of Casterbridge, is who we must watch. This is unusual for Thomas Hardy. No other novel by him so far has depicted a male right from the start (i.e. rather than a female) who is to stay centre stage as the main focus of our attentions, not even his historical novel The Trumpet-Major. We are pointed firmly in this direction by the title. The subtitle "A Man of Character" promises a figure to focus on who has lots of depth and complexity, influencing and leading our opinion of him. In the same way, the later subtitle of Tess of the D’Urbervilles "A Pure Woman, Faithfully Presented" was also to do this as we saw, much later. The novel's subtitle also tells us that we will follow Michael Henchard to his death, and inevitably we begin to wonder what he will make of his life.
We may be tempted to judge by our gut reactions, and I do wonder how many readers in the general population stopped reading in chapter 1, when Michael did what seemed an unforgivable thing: selling his wife. But the point surely is that Michael Henchard has not forgiven himself. In that one fact, we see him as a character with depth and humanity, and we want to learn more. Not only did he spend a long time looking for Susan and Elizabeth-Jane, but he made a solemn vow to abstain from alcohol, and has kept it. He reminded us of the shame he felt at the end of this chapter 7. Michael Henchard is no pantomime villain; Thomas Hardy does not write those. He is a many-layered character.
Thomas Hardy was to claim in the first chapter of his next novel The Woodlanders that “dramas of a grandeur and unity truly Sophoclean” might sometimes be reenacted in the real in some remote spot, “outside the gates of the world”. This followed directly from his traumatic experience of writing The Mayor of Casterbridge: the novel which is acknowledged as marking a crucial stage in Thomas Hardy’s sense of himself as a Wessex novelist.
By now Michael Henchard is much admired and respected; nobody gets to be a mayor in an English town or city without being well respected for their work in the local community. He has worked himself up to be a “pillar of the town”. We have seen him as a young man, and noted the change from a self-centred young man, an out of work (unskilled) haytrusser. That part of his journey we can only deduce from how others talk about him, and they do not know his secret burden. It remains a secret because as Thomas Hardy told us earlier, Henchard is torn between his conscience and his pride.
At the moment some of the townspeople who always said how fairly Michael Henchard had always dealt with them, have taken against him, because of events in the last part year. People are like this and quick to change allegiance if they are out of pocket! Here bakers and millers have lost money, because Henchard’s business has outgrown his capacity to supervise it. We see that Henchard is trying to correct this and appoint a manager.
However some critics believe that this is Thomas Hardy describing a Thebes in Dorset. Hardy knew Greek (which he had taught himself) and was incredibly well-read, despite being largely self-taught. In Aeschylus’s play, Agamemnon walks into his house on a red carpet. We have just seen Michael Henchard give a lavish “roaring dinner” for the well-to do businessmen, who proceed to question him about his poor corn. Are both characters full of hubris? Is Thomas Hardy telling us that Casterbridge at the moment is suffering because of its ruler’s sins all that time ago?
Within the novel Thomas Hardy quotes or alludes to Cain, Job, Saul, Oedipus, and King Lear. (This is not a spoiler, as the character is so complex.) The Mayor of Casterbridge deals with the violation of moral law, with love, loss and belonging, and with intertwined themes of friendship, power and rivalry.
The critic Phillip Mallett has said that:
“it’s tempting to say that this novel is about an older greater and somehow more truly rural way of life, and a newer smaller and essentially mechanical one. But this is to simplify the novel”.
Some critics do this, as of course this is a major theme in the novel. But it's more than that; we see this as essentially intertwined with the vicissitudes of Michael’s life: how he reacts to all the changes of circumstances which befall him, and also those of his own making.
Michael Henchard is acknowledged as one of the great male figures of Victorian fiction. He is a towering figure at the centre of this novel. I look forward to further following his story, and seeing how he changes during his life (as we all must change), and how he acts when Hardy’s “finger of fate” determines events.
Already this Michael Henchard is a very different person from the petulant young haytrusser of chapter 1, although his passion are still easily roused. What will he be like a quarter through the novel, or a half? And what will he have made of his life when Bridget begins to lead the second half of Michael Henchard’s story?
At only just over a seventh the way through the book, we can hardly make a reliable summing up of his character. There are 45 chapters! We need to come to this gradually, as events unfold. But just as after chapter 4 I wrote a post about how we could see Susan so far, at chapter 7 this now seems a good place to look at Michael Henchard. Bridget may also have some thoughts to share about his character, as we see it at this point in the book.
The subtitle of The Mayor of Casterbridge is “The Life and Death of a Man of Character”. We know by now that Michael Henchard, the Mayor of Casterbridge, is who we must watch. This is unusual for Thomas Hardy. No other novel by him so far has depicted a male right from the start (i.e. rather than a female) who is to stay centre stage as the main focus of our attentions, not even his historical novel The Trumpet-Major. We are pointed firmly in this direction by the title. The subtitle "A Man of Character" promises a figure to focus on who has lots of depth and complexity, influencing and leading our opinion of him. In the same way, the later subtitle of Tess of the D’Urbervilles "A Pure Woman, Faithfully Presented" was also to do this as we saw, much later. The novel's subtitle also tells us that we will follow Michael Henchard to his death, and inevitably we begin to wonder what he will make of his life.
We may be tempted to judge by our gut reactions, and I do wonder how many readers in the general population stopped reading in chapter 1, when Michael did what seemed an unforgivable thing: selling his wife. But the point surely is that Michael Henchard has not forgiven himself. In that one fact, we see him as a character with depth and humanity, and we want to learn more. Not only did he spend a long time looking for Susan and Elizabeth-Jane, but he made a solemn vow to abstain from alcohol, and has kept it. He reminded us of the shame he felt at the end of this chapter 7. Michael Henchard is no pantomime villain; Thomas Hardy does not write those. He is a many-layered character.
Thomas Hardy was to claim in the first chapter of his next novel The Woodlanders that “dramas of a grandeur and unity truly Sophoclean” might sometimes be reenacted in the real in some remote spot, “outside the gates of the world”. This followed directly from his traumatic experience of writing The Mayor of Casterbridge: the novel which is acknowledged as marking a crucial stage in Thomas Hardy’s sense of himself as a Wessex novelist.
By now Michael Henchard is much admired and respected; nobody gets to be a mayor in an English town or city without being well respected for their work in the local community. He has worked himself up to be a “pillar of the town”. We have seen him as a young man, and noted the change from a self-centred young man, an out of work (unskilled) haytrusser. That part of his journey we can only deduce from how others talk about him, and they do not know his secret burden. It remains a secret because as Thomas Hardy told us earlier, Henchard is torn between his conscience and his pride.
At the moment some of the townspeople who always said how fairly Michael Henchard had always dealt with them, have taken against him, because of events in the last part year. People are like this and quick to change allegiance if they are out of pocket! Here bakers and millers have lost money, because Henchard’s business has outgrown his capacity to supervise it. We see that Henchard is trying to correct this and appoint a manager.
However some critics believe that this is Thomas Hardy describing a Thebes in Dorset. Hardy knew Greek (which he had taught himself) and was incredibly well-read, despite being largely self-taught. In Aeschylus’s play, Agamemnon walks into his house on a red carpet. We have just seen Michael Henchard give a lavish “roaring dinner” for the well-to do businessmen, who proceed to question him about his poor corn. Are both characters full of hubris? Is Thomas Hardy telling us that Casterbridge at the moment is suffering because of its ruler’s sins all that time ago?
Within the novel Thomas Hardy quotes or alludes to Cain, Job, Saul, Oedipus, and King Lear. (This is not a spoiler, as the character is so complex.) The Mayor of Casterbridge deals with the violation of moral law, with love, loss and belonging, and with intertwined themes of friendship, power and rivalry.
The critic Phillip Mallett has said that:
“it’s tempting to say that this novel is about an older greater and somehow more truly rural way of life, and a newer smaller and essentially mechanical one. But this is to simplify the novel”.
Some critics do this, as of course this is a major theme in the novel. But it's more than that; we see this as essentially intertwined with the vicissitudes of Michael’s life: how he reacts to all the changes of circumstances which befall him, and also those of his own making.
Michael Henchard is acknowledged as one of the great male figures of Victorian fiction. He is a towering figure at the centre of this novel. I look forward to further following his story, and seeing how he changes during his life (as we all must change), and how he acts when Hardy’s “finger of fate” determines events.
Already this Michael Henchard is a very different person from the petulant young haytrusser of chapter 1, although his passion are still easily roused. What will he be like a quarter through the novel, or a half? And what will he have made of his life when Bridget begins to lead the second half of Michael Henchard’s story?
Several of us have noticed the differences between Susan and Elizabeth-Jane. Here their opposing reactions to the cleanliness and expense of The Three Mariners reveal their different priorities and personalities.
Susan feels intimidated, both by the inn, and by Michael Henchard. She feels they don’t fit in. Elizabeth-Jane though is willing to do whatever it takes to be “respectable” showing her pragmatic self-control and independence of spirit. Also Elizabeth-Jane’s decision to wait on the guests of The Three Mariners, and her act of waiting on the young Scottish man, reveals to us that she is curious about him.
Susan, despite her close connection to Henchard, is cautious and gathers information before revealing herself to him. Elizabeth-Jane though, does not know the reason for this caution, nor what a huge secret it is. Farfrae is introduced as a traveller and fortune-seeker, who is passing through Casterbridge. He is tempted to stay, but insist that he wants to see the world.
The method for restoring poor wheat is presented in the overheard conversation. Henchard’s insistence that this cannot be done, that time cannot be reversed, could be interpreted as symbolic of his relationship with Susan. If this bad wheat can be restored, so too can the connection between Susan and Henchard.
Farfrae’s generosity is demonstrated in this first interaction with Henchard, in which he gives him the wheat restoring technique freely. What a cliffhanger though! Surely Thomas Hardy can't leave it there, with Farfrae going off on his travels?
I am looking forward to everyone's comments on this chapter 🙂
Susan feels intimidated, both by the inn, and by Michael Henchard. She feels they don’t fit in. Elizabeth-Jane though is willing to do whatever it takes to be “respectable” showing her pragmatic self-control and independence of spirit. Also Elizabeth-Jane’s decision to wait on the guests of The Three Mariners, and her act of waiting on the young Scottish man, reveals to us that she is curious about him.
Susan, despite her close connection to Henchard, is cautious and gathers information before revealing herself to him. Elizabeth-Jane though, does not know the reason for this caution, nor what a huge secret it is. Farfrae is introduced as a traveller and fortune-seeker, who is passing through Casterbridge. He is tempted to stay, but insist that he wants to see the world.
The method for restoring poor wheat is presented in the overheard conversation. Henchard’s insistence that this cannot be done, that time cannot be reversed, could be interpreted as symbolic of his relationship with Susan. If this bad wheat can be restored, so too can the connection between Susan and Henchard.
Farfrae’s generosity is demonstrated in this first interaction with Henchard, in which he gives him the wheat restoring technique freely. What a cliffhanger though! Surely Thomas Hardy can't leave it there, with Farfrae going off on his travels?
I am looking forward to everyone's comments on this chapter 🙂

This chapter is telling much about Elizabeth-Jane's dynamics and mobility, quick decision, and as you mentioned, curiosity, vs her mother's more static poses.
The whole eavesdropping scene is cleverly narrated and was wonderfully illustrated as you showed us before.
We the readers are following closely the conversation between Henchard and Farfrae but we are constantly reminded that Susan and her daughter are listening as closely through the thin wall - a great coincidence too that the wall happened to be thin. The perspective is constantly shifting to and fro, from our visual perspective to their listening/eavesdropping one. The narrative voice is regularly adding some details on the sounds and the silences the ladies are able to perceive through the wallpapered door. For example: "The click of a lock followed, and there was a sifting and rustling".
Jean I also enjoyed your posts. I particularly liked your idea
If this bad wheat can be restored, so too can the connection between Susan and Henchard..
I had not made that connection, that's so insightful.
I enjoyed getting to meet some of the secondary characters in this chapter and loved Hardy's descriptions of them. Mr. Stannidge, the landlord who helps out the staff, but only because his wife is watching.
And the description of Mrs. Stannidge who remained as fixed in an arm-chair as if she had been melted into it when in a liquid state, and could not now be unstuck - that description made me laugh!
If this bad wheat can be restored, so too can the connection between Susan and Henchard..
I had not made that connection, that's so insightful.
I enjoyed getting to meet some of the secondary characters in this chapter and loved Hardy's descriptions of them. Mr. Stannidge, the landlord who helps out the staff, but only because his wife is watching.
And the description of Mrs. Stannidge who remained as fixed in an arm-chair as if she had been melted into it when in a liquid state, and could not now be unstuck - that description made me laugh!

Susan continues to project timid characteristics and Elizabeth-Jane continues to be the mother figure in their duo. Elizabeth-Jane shows her willingness to work, to make mature decisions, and to project confidence, all characteristics that seem missing in her mother
Farfrae is our new character. Interesting. He is a man of direct character, creative, and principled. What he knows about agriculture he is freely willing to share, and he is equally uninterested in taking too much credit or any cash for sharing his knowledge with Henchard. He will be a character to watch, and I don’t think it a stretch to predict we will be seeing much more of him in the following chapters.
This chapter gives us a much better measure of Henchard. While it is impossible to forget his actions to his wife and child we do learn, once again, that he has not forgotten the incident with his wife and child nor broken his oath of sobriety. He has made much of himself and his social position in the last 20 years, but, as mentioned by Jean, the title of the novel has already projected the arc of his life
We now stand and listen to the conversation between Henchard and Farfrae with Susan and Elizabeth-Jane. Thank heavens for thin walls! So close, yet separated. Two men on one side of the wall and two women on the other. There are multi-layered possibilities with how Hardy will move these character forward, and, in time, no doubt blend them together.
Laura wrote: "Nobody likes my analysis that Henchard gambled with the wheat purchase?
He bought in bulk with the intention to sell when wheat was unavailable or very expensive. But he didn't store the wheat wel..."
Laura, I liked what you talked about in message 199 about the "haves and have nots". You are picking up on the many class differences we've seen these first chapters. Classism is a theme throughout Hardy's writing, mostly because it was a very personal issue for him. I'm no Hardy expert - far from it - but here's a little information I've gathered over the last couple years about Hardy's writings.
He was born in 1840 to a simple, working Dorchester family. His mother, Jemima, had been a servant for the upper class before marrying his father (also Thomas) who was a stonemason and builder. The Hardys were able to educate young Tom, because early on he showed promise as a student. But most of his life Thomas Hardy felt the class difference between his humble beginnings and those of his more educated friends, like Horace Moule.
Though Hardy wanted acceptance into the upper crust, Hardy also deeply loved the people of the countryside, and one of the best things about his writing is that he never patronizes them but instead shows their sufferings and joys in a real way. He celebrates the sense of community they have, as well as their connection to the natural world. He also writes effectively about their struggles to survive.
Hardy saw the modernization of the world and even embraced much of the scientific advancements. He was a fan of Darwin. He owned a copy of Einstein's "Theory of Relativity". But he also thought that the modern advances were creating a distance between people and the natural world, and this he did not think was beneficial.
I'm not sure about your suggestion that Hardy is exposing capitalism as immoral. Maybe you are right. For me, I need to read more of the story before I can draw that conclusion. You and I have written back and forth about our views on the bad wheat, and we'll just have to agree to disagree on that. Anyway, there is so much more to the discuss about the book. So many directions the story could go.
The classism is there for sure, with more of it to come.
He bought in bulk with the intention to sell when wheat was unavailable or very expensive. But he didn't store the wheat wel..."
Laura, I liked what you talked about in message 199 about the "haves and have nots". You are picking up on the many class differences we've seen these first chapters. Classism is a theme throughout Hardy's writing, mostly because it was a very personal issue for him. I'm no Hardy expert - far from it - but here's a little information I've gathered over the last couple years about Hardy's writings.
He was born in 1840 to a simple, working Dorchester family. His mother, Jemima, had been a servant for the upper class before marrying his father (also Thomas) who was a stonemason and builder. The Hardys were able to educate young Tom, because early on he showed promise as a student. But most of his life Thomas Hardy felt the class difference between his humble beginnings and those of his more educated friends, like Horace Moule.
Though Hardy wanted acceptance into the upper crust, Hardy also deeply loved the people of the countryside, and one of the best things about his writing is that he never patronizes them but instead shows their sufferings and joys in a real way. He celebrates the sense of community they have, as well as their connection to the natural world. He also writes effectively about their struggles to survive.
Hardy saw the modernization of the world and even embraced much of the scientific advancements. He was a fan of Darwin. He owned a copy of Einstein's "Theory of Relativity". But he also thought that the modern advances were creating a distance between people and the natural world, and this he did not think was beneficial.
I'm not sure about your suggestion that Hardy is exposing capitalism as immoral. Maybe you are right. For me, I need to read more of the story before I can draw that conclusion. You and I have written back and forth about our views on the bad wheat, and we'll just have to agree to disagree on that. Anyway, there is so much more to the discuss about the book. So many directions the story could go.
The classism is there for sure, with more of it to come.

Sorry Jean, I have only read this today! Indeed I wrote my post as if I had discovered America myself and not someone else before...
The thing is, I was stuck in the last phase of my removal, so I admit to have been skim reading everyone's posts the last few days.

He bought in bulk with the intention to sell when wheat was unavailable or very expensive. But he didn't store the wheat wel..."
Laura, for the reasons mentioned above I have been skim reading many posts.
I agree with some parts of your comments, particularly on the physical location of those who are "mighty" and well off, and the others, less fortunate. We have indeed seen this throughout most chapters we have read thus far.
The class issue is indeed a theme in the 19th century. The story we are reading is set in the 1840ies, a decade with many existential issues: the Industrial Revolution and its side effects and victims, the Hungry Decade in Ireland, the Revolutions on the Continent, Mary Barton published by Elizabeth Gaskell, Die Lage der arbeitenden Klasse in England by Friedrich Engels based on his enquiries in Manchester but elsewhere in Britain too.
No wonder some of these crucial issues are emerging in more rural areas too, on a smaller scale as everyone was impacted by the Corn Laws and the consequences of the development of a capitalist system.
I am not yet deep enough into the story and no Hardy expert and I feel safer, for the time being, to agree that Henchard is a complex character. His former deed is weighing upon him and we have still to discover if and how the expected confrontation of the four persons on both parts of the thin wall is to happen!
Claudia (also quite a long post 😆)
“The perspective is constantly shifting to and fro, from our visual perspective to their listening/eavesdropping one. The narrative voice is regularly adding some details on the sounds and the silences the ladies are able to perceive through the wallpapered door.”
These are marvellous close observations on ch 7, thank you. Now we can see the symbiotic relationship between the Victorian illustration and the text, and begin to understand why it might have been published with the earlier chapter; in order to allow us to partially anticipate this scene, and appreciate it in depth, as you have. I very much enjoyed your final quotation.
And your later post “Indeed I wrote my post as if I had discovered America myself and not someone else before … ”
really made me laugh! 😂 It did not matter at all that you accidentally quoted the same clause that I had. It only served to demonstrate how skilful Thomas Hardy had been in slipping that little hint of foreshadowing in. It means that we can hope, as Peter says, that Farfrae will be a part of this story, but have no idea in what way! A very clever way of writing.
(Off-topic - I hope your removals are going well, Claudia! And please don’t stress about skim-reading or what you might miss. We all know it may happen in these close reads if posts are long, so please don’t feel you have to respond to every single one. We have 34 people in the discussion at the moment, so you can imagine what it would be like if everyone posted every day! And even harder if there are extra comments. Mostly we hope people will contribute as they like, but keep things focused. It works really well, with insightful and enjoyable comments.)
“The perspective is constantly shifting to and fro, from our visual perspective to their listening/eavesdropping one. The narrative voice is regularly adding some details on the sounds and the silences the ladies are able to perceive through the wallpapered door.”
These are marvellous close observations on ch 7, thank you. Now we can see the symbiotic relationship between the Victorian illustration and the text, and begin to understand why it might have been published with the earlier chapter; in order to allow us to partially anticipate this scene, and appreciate it in depth, as you have. I very much enjoyed your final quotation.
And your later post “Indeed I wrote my post as if I had discovered America myself and not someone else before … ”
really made me laugh! 😂 It did not matter at all that you accidentally quoted the same clause that I had. It only served to demonstrate how skilful Thomas Hardy had been in slipping that little hint of foreshadowing in. It means that we can hope, as Peter says, that Farfrae will be a part of this story, but have no idea in what way! A very clever way of writing.
(Off-topic - I hope your removals are going well, Claudia! And please don’t stress about skim-reading or what you might miss. We all know it may happen in these close reads if posts are long, so please don’t feel you have to respond to every single one. We have 34 people in the discussion at the moment, so you can imagine what it would be like if everyone posted every day! And even harder if there are extra comments. Mostly we hope people will contribute as they like, but keep things focused. It works really well, with insightful and enjoyable comments.)
Bridget - I too really enjoyed the humour about the landlord and his lady, Mr. and Mrs. Stannidge. (I wonder now if this is why Hardy changed the earlier name of Farfrae, Stansbie, as it was too similar.) People forget that there is a lot of humour slyly tucked away, in Thomas Hardy.
I do apologise to everyone for the consequent delay to today’s chapter, nor is there time for me to comment on the illustration or add notes - sorry.
I do hope lots of readers feel like commenting on chapter 8, (and what has gone before of course) though, especially if you've been quiet for a bit! 🙂Let's hear what you think!
I do apologise to everyone for the consequent delay to today’s chapter, nor is there time for me to comment on the illustration or add notes - sorry.
I do hope lots of readers feel like commenting on chapter 8, (and what has gone before of course) though, especially if you've been quiet for a bit! 🙂Let's hear what you think!
Chapter 8
Elizabeth-Jane and Susan finish their meal in silence, consumed by their own thoughts. Donald Farfrae descends to the general company downstairs, and Elizabeth-Jane, after carrying down his tray as well as their own, quietly joins the guests in the sitting room. At the request of some tradesmen, the young Scottish man entertains everybody with a song. Elizabeth-Jane particularly is enraptured by the beauty and emotion of his song.
Solomon Longways and Christopher Coney, two local men, call upon Farfrae to sing again, and exclaim over the song, which speaks of Farfrae’s homeland of Scotland.

“Young Farfrae repeated the last verse. It was plain that nothing so pathetic had been heard at the *King of Prussia for a considerable time” by Robert Barnes. “The Graphic” 23rd January 1886
They ask Farfrae why he has left his home, when it is clear that he cares for it so strongly. They bemoan England, and particularly Casterbridge’s dark history, in comparison, referencing its historical rebellions against the crown. Farfrae sings a few more songs, completely winning over the hearts of the occupants of the sitting room. They ask if Farfrae plans to stay in Casterbridge, but hear that he is only passing through.
Elizabeth-Jane admires Farfrae and agrees with the general disappointment about his brief stay in Casterbridge. She feels that he sees the world in a very similar way to herself: as something that is primarily tragic, rather than comical; in which happiness and lightness is intermittent, rather than expected. When Farfrae plans to retire, the landlady tells Elizabeth-Jane to turn down his bed. Coming back down the stairs, Elizabeth-Jane encounters Farfrae on the stairs. He sings to her a verse of a song about “bonnie Peg my dearie.”
Elizabeth-Jane returns to her room to find Susan distraught at the idea that Elizabeth-Jane lowered herself to waiting in the inn. She feels that this would cast a poor light on them to Henchard, if he did connect himself with them. Furthermore, this information was public. Elizabeth-Jane says that she did not mind waiting upon such a very respectable young man.
Henchard, who has wandered past the inn after his meeting with Farfrae, overhears the young man singing, and wishes he could have convinced him to stay and join his business.
(* as mentioned before, the name of the smaller inn in the original serial was not “The Three Mariners” but “The King of Prussia”)
Elizabeth-Jane and Susan finish their meal in silence, consumed by their own thoughts. Donald Farfrae descends to the general company downstairs, and Elizabeth-Jane, after carrying down his tray as well as their own, quietly joins the guests in the sitting room. At the request of some tradesmen, the young Scottish man entertains everybody with a song. Elizabeth-Jane particularly is enraptured by the beauty and emotion of his song.
Solomon Longways and Christopher Coney, two local men, call upon Farfrae to sing again, and exclaim over the song, which speaks of Farfrae’s homeland of Scotland.

“Young Farfrae repeated the last verse. It was plain that nothing so pathetic had been heard at the *King of Prussia for a considerable time” by Robert Barnes. “The Graphic” 23rd January 1886
They ask Farfrae why he has left his home, when it is clear that he cares for it so strongly. They bemoan England, and particularly Casterbridge’s dark history, in comparison, referencing its historical rebellions against the crown. Farfrae sings a few more songs, completely winning over the hearts of the occupants of the sitting room. They ask if Farfrae plans to stay in Casterbridge, but hear that he is only passing through.
Elizabeth-Jane admires Farfrae and agrees with the general disappointment about his brief stay in Casterbridge. She feels that he sees the world in a very similar way to herself: as something that is primarily tragic, rather than comical; in which happiness and lightness is intermittent, rather than expected. When Farfrae plans to retire, the landlady tells Elizabeth-Jane to turn down his bed. Coming back down the stairs, Elizabeth-Jane encounters Farfrae on the stairs. He sings to her a verse of a song about “bonnie Peg my dearie.”
Elizabeth-Jane returns to her room to find Susan distraught at the idea that Elizabeth-Jane lowered herself to waiting in the inn. She feels that this would cast a poor light on them to Henchard, if he did connect himself with them. Furthermore, this information was public. Elizabeth-Jane says that she did not mind waiting upon such a very respectable young man.
Henchard, who has wandered past the inn after his meeting with Farfrae, overhears the young man singing, and wishes he could have convinced him to stay and join his business.
(* as mentioned before, the name of the smaller inn in the original serial was not “The Three Mariners” but “The King of Prussia”)
Elizabeth-Jane is as enthralled as the occupants of the inn by Farfrae’s musical talent and his presence. Farfrae seems to win friends and admirers naturally and everywhere he goes, unlike the gruffer, moody Henchard. We wonder whether Elizabeth-Jane’s attraction to Farfrae will persist.
Villagers like Solomon Longways and Christopher Coney play peripheral and yet vital roles throughout the novel. They give us an insight into the thoughts of the local working folk. The development of these secondary characters helps to flesh out the world of Casterbridge. In this scene, these characters discuss their home and develop the historical setting. They also demonstrate the way that Farfrae’s natural openness and joy makes him immediately popular in the town.
Elizabeth-Jane, despite her limited knowledge of Farfrae, is quick to establish similarities between themselves. She is attracted to Farfrae’s character and it’s tempting to wonder if Farfrae is interested in her too.
Susan’s distress at Elizabeth-Jane working at the inn reflects her almost obsessive focus on Henchard’s high position. She has not been able to overcome her fear of Henchard’s position, despite her conviction that it is her duty to return to him. Henchard though feels as charmed by Farfrae as any of the villagers, and wishes he would stay.
Villagers like Solomon Longways and Christopher Coney play peripheral and yet vital roles throughout the novel. They give us an insight into the thoughts of the local working folk. The development of these secondary characters helps to flesh out the world of Casterbridge. In this scene, these characters discuss their home and develop the historical setting. They also demonstrate the way that Farfrae’s natural openness and joy makes him immediately popular in the town.
Elizabeth-Jane, despite her limited knowledge of Farfrae, is quick to establish similarities between themselves. She is attracted to Farfrae’s character and it’s tempting to wonder if Farfrae is interested in her too.
Susan’s distress at Elizabeth-Jane working at the inn reflects her almost obsessive focus on Henchard’s high position. She has not been able to overcome her fear of Henchard’s position, despite her conviction that it is her duty to return to him. Henchard though feels as charmed by Farfrae as any of the villagers, and wishes he would stay.
Over to you! Please do use the links at the beginning of this thread, if you like.
Chapter 9 is tomorrow and after that we start a new thread 😊
Chapter 9 is tomorrow and after that we start a new thread 😊

There is much to think about in these short chapters but, basically, I think Michael Henchard is developing into a complex character, and there seems to be a bit of attraction between Elizabeth-Jane and the Scotsman.
I agree that Susan is coming across as a very shy and retreating creature and I wonder just how she expected to approach Henchard. Yes, there is a difference in their circumstances, but the shoe could have easily been on the other foot. And again, how is this secret of just who Henchard is, going to be shared with Elizabeth-Jane?
As a mother, how Elizabeth-Janes responds — that would be my greater fear, frankly.
Bionic Jean wrote: " (I wonder now if this is why Hardy changed the earlier name of Farfrae, Stansbie, as it was too similar.).."
Oh, good thought Jean! That might just be it! I quite like the name Farfrae. I'm glad Hardy made the change.
Oh, good thought Jean! That might just be it! I quite like the name Farfrae. I'm glad Hardy made the change.
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The quotation about Susan's motivation is an interesting one. It feels rather like self-justification after the event to me! It's all very well her believing that Henchard would be the "proper" one to make the decision, being a man and now inhabiting a higher class. Given the time and culture, we can see how she would think that way.
But it begs the question of why she has not told Elizabeth-Jane already, before she got to 18. Elizabeth-Jane's reaction is not likely to be very positive - and even worse - as you say - if told to her by a stranger. Either Susan is not thinking straight, or she is dissembling and deceiving herself as to her reasons.
Good thoughts here!