Moore captures the sense of Hardy's writing in historical literary context. He demonstrates, in detail, that Hardy's novels were ironic, satirical, and by and large critical responses to the major themes of Romantic and Victorian cultural postions. Moore argues, convincingly, that Hardy's main theme in Wessex was the fall of idealism into a history which was without Reaon, or "non-rational," as Hardy once named it. Hardy's major novels, more shows, replay the dark themes of Shelley's "Triumph of Time," in local contexts.
Moore's study is comprehensive, detailed, and well-argued. It is surprising that it is not more widely appreciated in the Hardy and Victorian studies communities, both of which are sorely in need of a few good arguments and fresh critical approaches.

I think that this book was really fantastic. It was very close to reality in the way that the characters act. I also thought that the shooting close at the end was surprising.

The Hand of Ethelberta starts well, maintains its' lively pace through the middle with many plots and schemes all throughout, and finishes well to boot; but not in the way one first expects it to conclude.

Ethelberta, Hardy's heroine for this book, is one of the most complex characters in Hardy's work. She is the daughter of a butler, who, being ambitious, aspires to raise herself up through a well placed marriage with someone of wealth and class. (As the story begins she has done this once already and became widowed a mere 3 weeks later.) She is cunning and resourceful in ways few others are, but, while being driven in part by motives not entirely selfish, seems at times cold and calculating.

She is pursued first by an old lover, Christopher Julian. Mr. Julian was once a potential marriage for her but she opted for his rival, Mr. Petherwin, instead. He has since fallen into ruin after the death of his father and, being penniless, turned to his hobby of music for his profession. His lone companion at this point in his life is his sister, Faith, with whom he lives. But Mr. Julian has rivals.

There is Mr.Neigh, the nephew of an influential family, with whom she is acquainted with by the name of Doncastle, who is said to be independently rich and known to be more than a little aloof, if not eccentric.

And there is Mr.Ladywell. A painter of moderate celebrity but is from a good family and is wealthy, of course.

As if things weren't bad enough, there is Lord Mountclere, a rich and powerful womanizer, whose enjoyment of the childish games he plays is fueled as much by his jealousy as by his sense of power.

Hardy gives this story its' tension by making Ethelberta's lineage unknown to all concerned, but already known to Mr. Julian. In Hardy's time social class was EVERYTHING. The upperclass was for the upperclass only. The lower class was expected to keep its' respectful distance and know its' place. Ethelberta had dined at their houses, attended their gatherings, not as a member of her own true class, but as an equal. This would have been scandalous in its' day. To have excepted the daughter of a servant as an equal to those with money, education, and worldly opportunity and experience would have been unheard of. A marriage with an upperclass bachelor to that of a woman whose lower class pedigree is confirmed by her father's occupation, that being a butler, could hardly be expected to be entered into knowingly.

Hardy gives us other characters that balance out the narrative. There is Picotee, one of Ethelberta's sisters, who falls in love with Mr.Julian. Her invalid mother, Mrs. Chickerel, who is afraid of almost everything except giving unsolicited commentary and advice peppered with her own doubts and misgivings. Her father, Mr. Chickerel, who tries to be fatherly on occasion but really only seems fit to be a butler. There is Mr. Mountclere, the brother of Lord Mountclere, whose condescending manners are the stuff revolutions are fueled by. And last but not least there is the perfidious Miss Menlove, whom the men certainly do seem to love but are never really more than a flirtatious fling to her, who threatens to be Ethelberta's undoing.

For fans of Victorian Literature already acquainted with Hardy's work or not, Make This Purchase Now! With a rich story line and its' incredible heroine, Ethelberta, this novel deserves to be read.

This is an excellent collection, including some of Hardy's most beautiful poetry. Hardy, in our modern period, is more famous for his controversial novels (Tess of the d'Urbervilles and Jude the Obscure among them), although in his life, he was most known, and preferred to call himself a poet. In fact, he is buried in the poet's section of Westminster Abbey. His poems sound with the same issues as his novels, although they are perhaps marginally more digestable because they are all moderately short. I would not recommend reading more than a few of these poems at a time because they are all permeated by the classic Hardian tragic sense of life that we all know and love. If you have not read Hardy's novels, I strongly recommend that you do, and also experience his poetry, which is quite out of this world as well.

This is by far the best book about lime and it's applications that I have ever had the pleasure to read. Thomas Hardy is a genius!

A question about the source of human tragedy lies at the heart of The Mayor of Casterbridge. Characters frequently mention fate and providence as causes for tragedy (and joy), but Hardy offers more subtle and complex explanations for individual tragedy. At times, Hardy seems to indicate that circumstance and timing play a more important role than Providence in shaping the course of human destiny. Can people survive without the aid of luck or providence by pure force of will? Henchard (the Mayor) is a man whose loneliness, egoism, and pride cause him to make bad decisions. His faulty judgement certainly do not help him in his quest for fulfillment, either. Hardy's depiction of an ultimately unknowable universe is achieved partly through his characters' false assignment of meaning to meaningless incidents. Fate, human will, and faulty perceptions are central issues in much of Hardy's writing. Though not as moving and intense as Hardy's masterpiece Tess of the d'Urbervilles, The Mayor is not to be missed. Hardy's complex rendering of Henchard's multi-faceted personality is remarkable. In addition, The Norton Critical Addition provides excellent commentary and background information from noteworthy critics.

I buy yet another copy of Hardy's 'The Return of the Native'. A brand new version added to my collection. What a treat it is to actually hear Hardy's words! I must say I already own many copies some more musty than others, many autographed by faceless faded students. It is the thought, the abstract longing for love and happiness, and not the actual possesion and enjoyment of them that actually makes us divine. The beauty of sadness. In Hardy's triumph 'The Return of the Native' a fathomless doomed romanticism shines with a vast and ecclectic frame. Glory and truth spread thinly in a dark canvas. Some have asked why is Hardy so preocupied with tragedy. The sane answer would be: look up Aeschyles and Sophocles. To me, The Return of the Native, a very favorite book, is a delicious witch's brew. Clym Yeobright returns from Paris to Egdon Heath (Cornwall) disappointed to open a school for the poor, but alas enters a fatal liaison with a local, Eustacia Vye. Like Madame Bovary this character is drawn with such originality and depth, that it's awesome. In the famous chapter where Eustacia Vye is so valiantly exposed, "Queen of Night'I find the most perfect prose. An elegy of such soulful and poetic splendor, so whimsical yet so telling. Never had an author rendered a dire mysterious character, so bare. For those critics whom over decades have banned this clear chapter as affected and ponderous I say they lack something in their brains and hearts. Read or listen to Hardy's 'The Return of the Native'or 'Flaubert's 'Madame Bovary' if you want to encounter two of the most fascinating leading ladies in all of classical literature. Comparable, a poem by Theophile Gautier or the equally tragic 'La dame aux camelias' by Alexander Dumas fils,enjoy, along with this, Thomas Hardy's superb and foremost literary masterpiece. Mise en scene that are brilliant, though only ominous fragments of an amorous, dark and wicked tableaux. A hurting sexual chiaroscuro condemmed from the start by fate, and by the intensity of the raw, pounding emotions. An ecclipsed moonlit play driven downwards inexorably by an exquisite but flawed heroine. I counted them, I now own 26 copies of 'The Return of the Native'!

If you are looking for a collection of Hardy's poetry, look no farther than this collection. The Penguin editors have done an incredible job of organizing the dense, complex body of Hardy's work into a very readable collection. This is more than just a simple "Hardy's greatest hits." Yes, there are the standard favorites here, but there is also an impressive collection of the writer's more obscure work. Reading the entire contents of this book is the best way to see the breadth of Hardy's existential and metaphysical angst.

Gerard Manley Hopkins is the greatest English poet to ever put pen to paper, bar none. Yes, even better than Shakespeare. Every student of English lit should read Hopkins. Hopkins writes from a profound love and awe of God and the beauty of His creations, but also from a deep despair resulting from chronic depression. His mastery of classical English combined with his magic use of sounds and word inventions is sheer genius. Read him.

Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles is a substantial piece of equipment: 325 watts of mixing power make child's play of creaming butter, kneading dough, and whipping cream. The kid in you will appreciate how quick and easy it is to mix up a batch of cookie dough. This model comes with three attachments: a flat beater for making batter, meat loaf, and all textures in-between; a wire whip for egg whites, mayonnaise, and more air-infused creations; and a hook for mixing and kneading yeast doughs. All three are solidly constructed and easily secured to the beater shaft with a simple twist. This model also includes a pouring shield for guiding ingredients to their proper destination, and the bowl itself locks tight to the base. Standing about 15 inches high, jutting out a foot, and weighing more than a grown woman's bowling ball, this stand mixer isn't the sort of appliance you'll wipe down and put away. Better to find a square foot of free counter space for easy access; besides, this machine is as pretty as it is rugged--you'll want to show it off.